Preggy Pie

by Cloudwell

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, Romance, Slice of Life, Human
Length: 13677

A PoV story in which your wife, Pinkie Pie, is pregnant with your first foal.

Despite the 'sex' tag, this is not a clopfic. It is erotica, however. A PoV-style fic in which you have married Pinkie Pie and are expecting your first foal. This is a spin-off of Sanguinius's fanfic, Preggity. There is light fetish material and numerous sex scenes throughout, but it is intended to be a story first and foremost. Despite being a spin-off, you do not have to read Preggity first for context.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-03 22:12:14 UTC

Ch. 1 - Your Wife, Pinkie Pie

Preggy Pie

Inspired by the fanfic 'Preggity' by Sanguinius

Important note about rating: This is a mature fanfic, and I ask politely that you do not rate this down simply because of its adult nature. Doing so would be very petty and immature. Please read it and judge it based on its quality, not the fact that it has some sexual material. If you disapprove of sexual material in fanfics, please turn on your adult filter so you don't have to be subjected to it. I've gotten a few hateful comments for no other reason than the story has some sex in it. Please use your discretion.

Author's note: I will, without hesitation, admit that I am nowhere near as eloquent or creative as Sanguinius. His work, Preggity, is a stellar fanfic that I suggest you all read. He was kind enough to give me permission to write this spin-off in his well-developed second-person style. Just keep in mind that I am an entirely different author, quite a few years younger, and am still developing my skills as a writer. That being said, I hope you enjoy this fanfic! There will be adult material, but considering this is rated 'mature', that's a given.

Edit: At this point (June 25th) I've released four chapters. If you want to read this in the "proper chronological" order, I recommend you read chapters two and three before reading this one. Afterwards you can read chapter four. Of course, this way is fine too.

Chapter One

You are awoken late in the morning by a few gentle rays of light streaming through the window. You haven't slept better in ages. You look down and see your wife sleeping beside you, resting her head on your chest for comfort. You smile. Every day she seems to become more beautiful. You lean down and kiss the top of her head, and in response, her eyes gently flutter open. She smiles up at you. “Good morning,” she says in a quiet voice. She sounds so sweet you could just melt. You give her a long, heartfelt kiss on the lips. She nuzzles you happily.

You remember the first day you met Pinkie. It was rare for humans to be seen in Equestria, let alone Ponyville, but you were looking for a new home and felt you might belong here. It was a small, humble town, but it wasn't too rural or obscure. You were expecting to meet someone, hopefully a human, to fall in love with and start a family. But fate, you soon found out, has a way of surprising you. Or rather, shooting you in the face with confetti, which was the case with Pinkie Pie. Her energy was boundless. Her smile was contagious. But more than anything, you saw kindness in her eyes. She was genuinely happy to see you. When you visited other towns, you were a spectacle. There were only a few humans in Equestria, but they were extremely rare. She didn't see you as a human, though. She saw you as a wandering soul that needed a friend.

It didn't take long for you to fall in love with her. You were a little secluded at first, but she quickly broke you out of your shell. She came to visit you every day just to let you know you weren't alone. She cheered you up when you felt dejected. And when you asked her why she was doing all this, she just answered,

“Because I like you, silly billy!”

You took a chance and asked her out. She was surprised at first, never having dated anyone, but she said yes. You went to dinner, but since Pinkie was getting antsy indoors, you spent the rest of the night together, lying on a grassy hill and talking. That was a great idea; you learned a lot about her that night. She wasn't just some excited pony that liked to make friends. She was genuinely thoughtful and considerate, and she actually had a lot of interesting things to say.

You remember the first time she realized she loved you. It was cute; not knowing what being in love was like, she thought she was sick. She talked to Twilight to see why she had trouble thinking straight and why her heart was beating so fast. Then, when Twilight suggested she might be in love, she got embarrassed. It was the first time you had ever seen her act shy. She blushed whenever she saw you. She had trouble making jokes because she was worried you wouldn't find them funny. Then eventually, when she had had enough, she broke down and cried, saying she didn't know how to talk to you anymore. But you told her you loved her too.

That's when you kissed for the first time. It was her first kiss, and she couldn't have been happier. You couldn't have been happier.

You had a small wedding a few months later; it was just you, Pinkie, and all your close friends. It was the most amazing day you've ever had. Even Rainbow Dash welled up during the ceremony. That made Pinkie happy.

You softly rub your wife's belly which has grown in the past five months. She isn't too big yet, but it's still noticeable. Besides, you like her this way. What they say about pregnant women—or rather, mares—is really true. They do glow. And after it's all over, you and your wife will have a beautiful foal to raise as your own.

A foal...you can't wait. Just the thought makes you grin. You lean down and kiss Pinkie's tummy.

“I think she's happy,” says Pinkie with a giggle. Of course she is; her mother is the happiest mare in Equestria. You don't know for sure that the foal is a filly, but you also know that Pinkie Sense never fails.

You rub her coat for a while as she closes her eyes, resting against you. Her hyperactivity has toned down since she became pregnant, but her optimism and contentedness still remain; and though she's become less energetic, she's still just as playful. You lower your hand so that you are nonchalantly rubbing her flank. She grins. “I know what you're doing.”

What? You're doing something? No, you're just moving your hand a little. But just for good measure, you give her a little squeeze. She giggles and stands, moving to sit on top of you. She gives you a kiss. “It's okay, you silly billy. If you want it, you don't have to be shy about it.” She nuzzles you and you smile. You rub her flank some more and kiss her in return. She's so soft, especially now that she's pregnant.

You don't go far with her most mornings. You usually just play around a bit. It's just as satisfying; lying in bed, holding your wife in your arms, touching the places on her body only you are allowed to touch...besides, it makes her happy. In the end, that's all you really want.

She breathes a little more sharply as your hand slips and you accidentally touch her marehood. “Careful,” she says with an apologetic smile, “The baby's making me all sensitive today.”

You chuckle. She's been like that lately. “What are you laughing at?” she asks. “Did I say something funny?”

You shake your head, grinning. You love it when she's sensitive. You gently run your fingers across her marehood again and she takes another sudden breath. “B-but, you just woke up and I don't want to tire you ou—oh!” She tightens up as you do it once more. She looks back, feeling herself becoming wet. “Well, do you want me to do something...? I don't want to be the only one who...”

You turn her head back to you and shake your own. This is for her. You don't need anything. You bring your fingers together and start to rub her up and down, tugging slightly at her hole with your middle finger. She arches her back and presses her face against your chest. She breathes sharply but spreads her legs to let more in. You slide two fingers into her wet slit and she makes a noise half way between a moan and a hum. You know this means to keep going. You make slow motions with your fingers, in and out, and stretch them apart so she can feel herself spread.

Pinkie gasps, her eyes popping open. They flutter halfway shut and she lets out a shaky breath, coming to orgasm. It looks like it was sudden, and you know it was because your fingers are dripping when you pull them out. “Oh, wowie...” she says, a bit embarrassed. “I didn't know I was going to do that...” She giggles and kisses you. “Thanks.”

You smile against her lips as you return the kiss. You then stand and get out of bed.

“Are you sure you don't want me to...?”

You shake your head and smile. You only wanted to satisfy her. Besides, it was so quick that it barely took any effort.

She blushes but nods in understanding. “Okay.” She hops out of bed and follows you to the shower. You help her wash her coat (as well as the spots she can't reach) and she washes your back. You grab a couple towels and you both dry off.

You ask her what she wants to do today as you work on your hair.

“Hmm...well, I don't have to work until tomorrow, so my day's mostly—oh! Why don't we visit Rarity? She told me she's been craving my cupcakes lately. She says they're to die for. That silly filly; she doesn't have to die to have some of my cupcakes.” She giggles. How can any mare possibly be this cute?

“Hello, Rarity!” sings Pinkie as you step into the boutique. Rarity spots you two and trots over hastily. She sighs in relief as she sees the box of cupcakes in your arms.

“Oh, darling, thank you. I was at my wit's end without these. I was about to die!” Her horn glows and the box is lifted from your arms. She clears her throat. “Figuratively speaking, of course. You have no idea how much you crave sweets when you have a foal. Although...” She smiles at the both of you, “...you will soon, won't you?” She trots to the back of the store and sets them down.

You lean down and kiss the top of your wife's head. She busies herself by browsing through Rarity's collection of dresses, though it's clear she isn't interested in them. She won't be able to fit any of them in a month anyway.

Rarity opens the box and looks at the cupcakes. “Oh, these look divine. I've needed to treat myself to something, you know. Ever since Unique was born, I've scarcely been able to leave the house. I'm so glad you are willing to come here instead; I would lose my mind if it weren't for these visits.

“Oh, that reminds me, how does that shirt I made for you fit?” Rarity asks, looking over her shoulder at you as she turns to straighten some hangers on a rack. “I just used my husband's measurements. You two are about the same size, aren't you?”

You nod and smile, tugging on your shirt to show how well it fits. You're lucky to have such a generous seamstress as a friend. She doesn't even make you pay.

“Well, that's good,” she says proudly. “I rather enjoy making human clothes. They are more of a challenge than regular pony clothing. It keeps my skills refined.” She smiles. “Do you need anything more, dear?”

You shake your head and laugh. She's done more than enough.

You hear the cry of Rarity's foal from upstairs and Rarity groans. “For Celestia's sake! Will that filly ever be quiet? I can hardly sleep at night anymore, let alone get work done.” Rolling her eyes, she turns to you. She does her best to curve her lips into a smile. “Thank you for stopping by. I'll be seeing you two soon, then, I hope?”

You nod and retrieve your wife. The two of you leave as Rarity attends to her foal. You notice Pinkie staring distantly ahead as you walk back. Something must have hit her, because she doesn't say a word the entire way home.

Ch. 2 - Your First Date (Flashback)

Author's note: Sort of experimenting with this one. Also, suspension of disbelief: ponies can somehow hold forks. Don't question it. (By the by, does anyone have a good picture of a pregnant Pinkie that I can use as a story icon?)

Chapter Two

One year ago...

There was a knock on your door. You sat up, still a bit groggy, and yawned. You had a feeling it was Pinkie, carrying out her usual round of bringing you food, so you stood, lifting your blanket and tossing it on the couch where you had fallen asleep. You hadn't earned enough money to buy a bed yet, but you were getting there. You managed to land a job as temporary replacement for a baker in town; you had been getting some extra money for working overtime, too. (Fingers were useful when baking in place of hooved mammals. You looked like an overachiever.) You walked past a mirror and checked your hair. It looked alright—not perfect, but it would do. You jogged to the door and opened it. It was Pinkie, as you guessed, grinning ear to ear.

“'Morning, sleepyhead! I got something for you...” She shuffled out of view and came back shortly with a basket in her mouth. She said something, but it was muffled by the handle. She trotted into the house and set it down. She turned to you.

What did she say?

“Oh, oops! I meant to say, 'I know you cook sweets all the time, so I brought you some apples.' Applejack let me take them; she said she didn't mind.”

You smiled and petted her head. She giggled. Every day she brought you food. You wanted to say no, but you were having trouble paying for the house as it was. First the bread, then the vegetables, then the rest of the gifts...and now apples. You asked her why she was doing all this.

“Because I like you, silly billy!” she said, still smiling. She had the most heartwarming smile.

This wasn't the first time you felt attracted to Pinkie. It had been happening more over the past week, and although you struggled with the idea of being with a pony, you wanted to tell her how you felt. It took someone--or somepony, rather--special to bring you food and check up on you every morning. Especially without asking for something in return. It wasn't unheard of to date a pony, either; Rarity married a human and they already had their first foal on the way.

You two chatted for a while, though it was Pinkie who really led the conversation. She almost always did. She was outgoing and loved to talk, though, so you didn't mind. She actually told you how much she enjoyed telling you things. She said you were a great listener. It was perfect, because you loved listening to her speak. One date couldn't hurt, right? Just to get to know her better.

You picked up the basket and set it on the coffee table. You turned to her and smiled, although you were nervous. It was now or never. You casually asked if she was doing anything tonight.

“Mm-mm, I don't think so,” she answered. “Well, that depends on what you mean by 'anything,' because I'll probably end up doing something if I don't have anything to do! You never know what the future holds, you know!” She gasped. “Oh my gosh, what if you did? Would you have to do whatever you know you would have to do if you knew what was going to happen, or would you be able to change it? What if you can't control your destiny and everything in your future is already decided?”

You laughed. She blinked.

“Did I say something funny?” she asked. You shook your head and grinned. She was confused. “Then what's so funny?”

You answered her by saying you were going to ask her on a date.

She didn't speak for a few seconds. “You mean...like a date-date?”

You nodded.

“You mean...a date that two ponies go on? Together?”

You nodded again.

“So...you want to go somewhere with me, but not just as a friend?”

You slowly nodded a third time. You were starting to worry; you were hoping for a simple yes or no. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...it was sudden, after all...

“Sure!” she answered, grinning again. “That sounds fun! I've never dated anypony before...” She giggled. “Or should I say, any human before!”

You were relieved. You got on your knees and gave her a hug, grinning. She laughed.

“What's the hug for?”

Because I like you, silly filly!

You picked Pinkie up later that night and walked with her to the restaurant. It was a nice one—you decided to splurge for the occasion—and it was in a part of Ponyville you weren't too familiar with. Pinkie knew the area, but not the restaurant; you both wanted to be surprised.

Pinkie looked stunning; Rarity had coaxed her into wearing a nice blue dress for the occasion,

and she had given her mane light curls instead of the regular bigger ones she wore. She even had a flower in her mane for good measure. You liked that.

“What do ponies do on dates?” she asked as you two walked. “I've never been on one before!”

You thought about running through the different possible activities, but you decided to summarize by saying 'whatever it takes to get to know each other.' That sounded right. She thought that was a funny response. You thought that was cute.

When you got to the restaurant, you were escorted to your table by a well-dressed pony who kept glancing up at you as he walked. Sometimes you forgot how tall you were in comparison to the ponies. Pinkie's head only went above your hip, but at least that made her easier to pet. Win some, lose some, you told yourself.

You got to your table and pulled out the chair for Pinkie. She giggled at this and sat down, grinning. Nobody had ever treated her like a lady, so this was a lot of fun for her. Seeing her happy made you smile; she really didn't see you any differently from the ponies. You picked up the menu and browsed through the main courses. Pinkie wanted spaghetti. Knowing she was dressed so nicely, you considered telling her this wasn't a good idea. However, she wasn't used to eating in nice places, so you let her get it. You ordered some too, just in case she got messy; you didn't want her to feel alone.

The date started out fine; you talked about what it was like moving into Ponyville, Pinkie talked about her friends and how she reacted when she saw you, and overall, there was a lot of laughter. Her laugh was just contagious that way. You normally wouldn't care about people—or ponies—you didn't know, but she made it interesting. You had met them once in a group, but they weren't sure how to react to you. When she introduced you to them, she talked like you were just a normal pony. She didn't care that you were different. She just wanted you to feel welcome.

“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked.

You realized you were smiling at her as she talked, propping yourself up with your palm. You must have looked pretty stupid. You cleared your throat and moved your hand to take a sip of water. She just giggled. You were about to make up an excuse, but then the waiter came with your food. Perfect timing, too, because you were out of ideas.

She twirled her fork in the pasta and took a big bite. “Ooh, that's yummy! Try it; it's the tastiest spaghetti I've ever had!”

You did the same. It really was good. You ate as she talked some more, listening intently to every word. She had such a cheesy sense of humor, but it was really cute. And on occasion, she said something that was so funny you nearly choked on your food. The best part was, she made her funniest jokes when she wasn't trying to be funny. So throughout the meal, she kept asking if you felt alright and saying you needed to drink some water.

The both of you finished your plates and you paid the bill. You asked her where she wanted to go next. A movie? A play, maybe?

“Um, if it's alright with you, I want to go somewhere outside,” she said. “Being inside for too long makes me anxious.” She smiled sheepishly.

You nodded, and as you stood you noticed a tall grassy hill through the window. You turned to Pinkie and gestured toward it. She thought it was perfect.

You sat on the side of the hill facing the forest, not wanting to be bothered by the city lights. Pinkie sat right beside you, gazing contentedly at the stars. The night air was perfect. It was warm, but not so warm that she wouldn't sit close to you for comfort.

“Have you ever just thought about the stars?” Pinkie asked. “They're all so pretty...they look close, but they're really far from each other.” She smiled. “At least they get to look down at us while we enjoy them from a distance. I think that counts for something.” She turned to you. “Hey, come closer. I need to tell you a secret...”

You leaned towards her. She looked around, making sure nopony was there, then kissed you on the cheek. She grinned. “I saw Mrs. Cake do that once when I was younger. I wanted to try it too.”

You laughed and gave her a hug. She giggled. “Thank you so much for the date,” she said. “It was the best one I've ever been on. Well, the only one, but also the best.”

You slipped your arm around her. She leaned against you and sighed.

“I can't believe Rarity's having a foal,” she said. “I always thought she would be the last in the group to get married, since she can be so flip-floppy at times—well, except for Rainbow Dash. But even she's with somepony now...” She breathed softly out her nose. “Everything's changing, and yet everypony is still happy...I'm glad.” She smiled up at you. “Thanks...again.”

You grinned. You leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She blushed, but she got closer to you and set a hoof on your chest. The next few minutes were silent, but you couldn't have asked for a better ending to a date. You had a feeling that Pinkie Pie was somepony special.

Ch. 3 - Lovesick Pinkie (Flashback)

Author's note: Apparently editors are...a thing. And I should get one. Dang it. Oh well; for now I'll just post chapters and have them edited later! (Also, this chapter has a couple of inconsistencies with the first one, but don't worry. I'll fix that later.)

Chapter Three

One year ago...

You knew Pinkie had trouble talking to you after your first date, but there was more to it than you first believed. A couple months after you got married, she told you the entire story.

Pinkie woke up very early the morning following your date. She was sweating and her heart was pounding. She sat up, her comforter slumping forward, and pressing a hoof to her chest. She felt some quick pulses and tried to breathe, but it felt like she needed more air. She kept thinking of your face, your smile, your voice...everything about you. Could you have gotten her sick? She wondered if ponies could get sick from humans. She walked to her window and pushed it open. She took a deep breath, but instead being calmed down, she started to feel nervous. Nervous about what, she couldn't tell, but it was horrible. She went back to bed, but her mind was racing. Her legs couldn't keep still. She couldn't find a comfortable position. After a grueling hour of this, she picked up her pillow and threw it to the floor. She tossed her covers to the side and stood up. She was upset. She didn't want to get sick; not now, anyway.

She got up and trotted downstairs. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well cook.

Pinkie reached up to her cupboard and pulled out one of a few cookbooks she owned. She didn't want to make something sweet right now. She wasn't in a very sweet mood. But she did want to make something. Eventually she found a recipe for vegetable pot pie. It was involved, but at least it would make for a decent distraction. She trotted to her fridge and got out some carrots and mushrooms, and she got the flour, eggs, salt, onions, and potatoes from her pantry.

As she set the cutting board on the coutner, Pinkie kept telling herself not to think about you. Not to think about the date. Not to think about that grassy hill, or the stars, or that kiss you gave her...

She gasped, realizing the knife was only millimeters away from her hoof. She had almost cut herself. Why? Why was she like this? She didn't get sick often, but she knew it wasn't this hard to focus while sick. And why did she keep thinking of you? It was as though you had done something bad to her, but you didn't. You made her feel happy. You made her smile and laugh; you even made her blush...

Pinkie felt a warmth creep onto her face. She was definitely doing it again...she couldn't see it, but she knew. Thank goodness nopony was around to notice. She breathed through her nose and let it out gradually. Everything was okay. She had nothing to blush about. She kept cutting up the vegetables, and once they were all diced, she started mixing the dough. It was a simple dough; it didn't even have milk. It wasn't as difficult as the specialty breads you made at your job. It was tough to need, though. It must have been much easier for you to do with your fingers. Your fingers were gentle. They were soft; they were never used to trot on the ground. And they wrapped around her sides perfectly...they could comfort better than any stallion could...

Pinkie was overcome with an emotion. An odd emotion. It was like her tummy had bubbles in it. She felt like she needed to cry, but she didn't want to. She wanted you to be there to give her a hug.

It took much longer to prepare the pie than needed; Pinkie kept getting distracted for reasons unknown to her. It was a miracle she didn't leave it in the oven for too long. But once it was ready, she was scared. What if you didn't like it? She had given you food every morning without worry, but what if she made it wrong? Did she salt the crust too much? Did you not like mushrooms? She minced them, so it shouldn't have been a problem...what about carrots? What if you were allergic?

She took some panicked breaths. What if it was so bad that you hated her for it?

No. Pinkie had come this far; she couldn't stop now. She wrapped it up and placed it in the usual basket. Slipping the handle into her mouth, she made her way out the door.

The walk to your house was miserable. It was bright out, but to Pinkie, the sky was cloudy. She wanted to turn back, but she knew she couldn't. This was the funniest sickness she had ever experienced. It was probably even worse than the Cutie Pox. When she finally arrived at your house, she felt like her heart was about to burst. She was so scared. She tried to build up the courage to ring your doorbell. One minute...not enough. Two minutes. Still not enough. Finally, once six minutes had passed, she rang.

You answered the door and she set the basket down on your doorstep. "This is...for you," she said, "I have to...uh...I mean, I want to...no, I...I..." She was mortified; she could barely speak. Turning, she darted away, leaving you with the pie (and many questions).

Pinkie needed help, fast. She felt like she could die at any moment. She went to Twilight, the only doctor she trusted. She knocked on the door, her face now a bright red. This was all so much. Twilight opened the door and saw her friend trembling.

“T-T-Twilight?” stammered out with an un-Pinkie-like timidity in her voice, “I...I think I need some medicine or something. I'm feeling...” She trailed off, her gaze now fixed on the floor.

Concered, Twilight quickly ushered her in and sat her on the couch. She put a hoof to her forehead and tilted her head in thought. “Hm...I don't feel a fever; but you look like you might have a cold. Hold on; let me go grab something.” A minute later she returned with a stethescope around her neck. She tucked the buds into her ears and pressed the diaphragm to Pinkie's chest. Her heartbeat was far too fast to be normal. “Pinkie, are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Well, no...not dizzy. But my stomach feels a little queasy.”

Twilight took a mental note. “Are you having trouble seeing?”

Pinkie slowly turned her head from side to side. “No, I can see just fine, but...I can't talk as well today.”

Twilight found this curious. “I see...but you seem to be speaking fine now.”

“Well, this morning was different...” she muttered.

“What did you do this morning?” Twilight inquired.

Pinkie explained that she started to feel sick last night after having gone out with you, and that this morning she didn't talk much when she saw you. The nausea, the heartbeat, the blushing, the trouble speaking...it all suddenly made sense. Twilight suppressed a smile and asked one more question.

“Pinkie, does your heart hurt?”

Pinkie started to look hopeful. “Y-yeah...so you know what's wrong, then?”

Twilight laughed and hugged her. “Oh, Pinkie, you're fine! You're not sick; you're in love!”

Pinkie's eyes went wide and she broke free from Twilight's embrace, fumbling backward on the couch and pressing against the arm rest.

“Pinkie Pie, what's wrong? This is a good thing!” insisted Twilight.

Pinkie's lip quivered and she lowered her face into her hooves, too embarrassed to make eye contact. She let out a little whimper of sorts, as though she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Chuckling softly, Twilight set a hoof on Pinkie's shoulder. “Pinkie, it's okay. You don't have to be embarrassed. Love is a wonderful thing; I'm happy for you!”

Pinkie had never blushed this much in her life. What was this? She felt shy on occasion, but even that was rare. She had never been embarrassed before. Was this how embarrassment felt? It was like she just wanted to disappear and be alone forever. And Pinkie hated being alone. Not only that, but if this was love, then love felt horrible. If love felt nervous and queasy, she didn't want to be in love.

“How can I stop it...?” Pinkie asked desperately, peeking at Twilight through her hooves.

“Stop being in love? I'm not sure you can, unless you just don't see him again.”

Pinkie thought about this. Twilight immediately interjected. “Pinkie, no. You have to face your feelings; you can't just avoid him and hope for the best.”

“But I can try!” Pinkie said.

Twilight frowned. Her tone was very stern. “Pinkie. No. You can't just avoid new feelings by hiding from them. This will all subside once you just talk to him some more. Go on another date; get to know him.” Her expression became more gentle. “Who knows? You two could even get married someday.”

Married? You and Pinkie? She let out a little whimper and covered her face with her hooves again. Too intimate. Too close for comfort. She thought she liked talking to ponies; she thought she could talk about anything, but love was so embarrassing to talk about. It was different talking about herself rather than somepony else. She suddenly didn't like being the center of attention.

Twilight remembered her studies. She didn't have time for this right now. “Why don't you go home, Pinkie? Get some rest...think this through. I know it's a lot to handle, but you'll be fine if you just give it some time.”

Pinkie, relieved at this opportunity to escape, nodded and got off the couch. She walked briskly out the door and went straight to her house; or rather, that would have been her plan if she hadn't bumped into you along the way.

This part you remember—you were in the center of town, grabbing some breakfast before heading to work, when you felt somepony walk straight into you from behind. You stumbled, dropping the food you were holding, and spun around to find Pinkie staring at you, her face a deep red. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she wound up face-to-face with the one person she didn't want to see right now.

You smiled and said hi to her, but she didn't respond. She stared at the food you had dropped and shrunk back a bit.

“I...uh...I mean, I didn't...” She shut her eyes tight and galloped straight past you. She couldn't go to her house; you might look there. She just needed to get away. You watched, without a word, and wondered what you might have done wrong.

...

“Why, yes, I did feel like that for a short while,” said Rarity, levitating some tea and sugar onto the table where Pinkie sat across, “but that was only when I met my first coltfriend. The feeling wears off after two or three; I didn't feel it with my now-husband, but that doesn't mean I don't love him.” She stirred some sugar into her cup and took a sip. “However, I never felt sick, just a little nervous. Perhaps you really are ill...”

“I hope so,” said Pinkie. She sighed quietly, her head propped up by her hoof as she stared idly at the unsweetened tea before her.

“I know just the thing!” Rarity sang. “Why don't we go to the spa? It's been a while since I've had a good pampering...”

“But Rarity, you're pregnant; should you really--”

“Oh, nonsense, Pinkie,” Rarity dismissed with a wave of the hoof, “It's no danger this early on. I have at least another month before I need to worry. Besides, my husband is at work and it's been so lonely lately...please?”

After some thought, Pinkie nodded. She needed a distraction, and she wasn't going to find it talking about her problems.

A few minutes later, Pinkie was at the spa with Rarity, soaking in a hot bath with her head just barely above the water. She hummed quietly; a pleasant response to the warmth.

Rarity, who was leaning over the edge of the tub, sighed. “If there's one thing I know, it's relaxation. Well, fashion, but relaxation is a close second.”

Pinkie smiled and closed her eyes. "Wowie...this feels so good..." She let her mind wander and found herself thinking of that kiss you gave her on the date. It was just on the head, but she remembered it vividly. The warmth of your lips. The security of your arm around her. That first leap she felt in her heart. The feeling of butterflies she got when you walked her home; and the happiness she experienced that night as she drifted off to sleep...

Sleep...

Sleep...

“Pinkie!” came Rarity's voice from above.

Pinkie's eyes jerked open and she looked up. Rarity was standing above her, brow furrowed in concern. “Goodness, you've been in there for at least half an hour. Did you doze off? You need to get out; that much is unhealthy!”

Pinkie stood and climbed out, though her steps were very wobbly and unstable. She stumbled about, eventually tripping and knocking over a small table which hit the ground hard. Rarity grabbed her by the hoof before she fell into the mound of towels and sponges which were now covering on the floor. Pinkie just laughed. There were lines under her eyes from sleep deprivation.

“Pinkie, dear, are you alright? That bath was rather hot; the sign said not to stay in for more than ten minutes...”

Pinkie just giggled. “I'm fine...everything is all...spinny.”

“Ah, yes...spinny...” Rarity looked towards the door. “We should probably get you home. Walk beside me; I don't want you crashing into anypony.” She led Pinkie out of the spa, her mane and coat still wet.

Rarity brought Pinkie home and got her into bed. Even though it was only noon, she fell asleep right away.

…

You were working harder than you had in weeks. Every move was quick and accurate; you cracked eggs in one fluid motion; you kneaded dough firmly and smoothly; you cut the dough so swiftly, the tiniest mistake could have left you with a bleeding finger. But you didn't make a mistake. Everything you did was done with intent and dexterity. Your initial clumsiness from when you got the job was now gone; you had mastered the kitchen so well, you could have gotten a baking Cutie Mark by now if it it were possible. That was something you envied about ponies.

Everything you did was with Pinkie in mind. That date was incredible, even if it was just something small and simple. You wanted to take her out again; you wanted to make her happy and see her smile more. It was crazy, knowing you two had only been on one date, but you were in love. There was no doubt about it.

The store bell rang and you turned around. You were about to say you weren't open yet, but to your immediate confusion, you saw through the kitchen door a wet and disheveled Rarity trotting inside.

She called out your name and you stepped out from the kitchen.

“There you are; I came to tell you to check up on Pinkie. She's been...less than herself, to say the least.”

You mentioned your strange encounter with her that morning. She sighed.

“Yes, I know. Ever since you two went on that date, she's been an absolute mess. She can hardly think straight and she doesn't know what to do. I'm not asking for much, but...” She lowered her eyelids wryly. “My mane is soaked. My coat is a mess. I don't have any makeup on. My hooves are dirty, and I'm pregnant. Go to her, now.” She spun towards the door, tail whipping in the air, and trotted off.

You ran back to the kitchen and got the last few loaves ready. You left a note apologizing for your absence and let the owner know an emergency came up. You wrote down the amount of time the bread needed to be cooked and at what temperature. You mentioned that you were willing to work extra the following day if needed.

You hastily took off your apron and tossed it on a rack by the door. You washed your hands and face before darting off, praying you wouldn't get fired for doing this.

...

You got to Pinkie's house and found her lying in bed, fast asleep. She looked exhausted; she clearly needed rest. You had already left work, though, so you just pulled up a chair beside the bed and waited. Pinkie's house wasn't big, but it felt like home. She had pictures everywhere of all her friends, and even wrote notes for each one.

One particular picture was of Pinkie hugging Twilight. Pinkie's face was practically beaming with joy. Twilight looked camera-shy. The note attached simply read, “My new best friend, Twilight Sparkle!”

She actually had one of these for all of her friends, each of which was apparently her best. This made you chuckle. She just loved everyone so much. She was so thoughtful.

Pinkie also had a diary open on her nightstand. You didn't want to invade her privacy, but you could see that the entry it was open to was written in a hasty, enthusiastic manner. You assumed this wasn't the only one written in this fashion. The letters were large and there were little comments and notes jammed in the margins. The bright green ink in which it was written switched to orange half-way through, possibly because she ran out of ink, but it was more likely she just got bored with the one she was using. It was signed with a rose-colored “Pinkie!” at the end (the exclamation was included). You squinted and saw another note beneath it: “Sorry, I ran out of pink. I'll go see if Rarity has some!”

All throughout the house were plastic drawers stacked atop one another, each containing a different type of party supplies. Bright-colored streamers, noisemakers, champagne poppers, and punch mixes were just a few of the hundreds she had. Across the room from her bed was a calendar with a few dates circled in red, and to the right was a list of supplies for each. These were probably these days she was hired to prepare parties for clients, but she obviously didn't do all this herself. You stood from your chair and moved closer; there was a sticky note attached to the corner which read in a smooth cursive font,

“I hope this helps.

-Twilight”

You imagined Pinkie showing up to someone's house on the wrong day with the incorrect supplies. This was probably for the best.

You didn't want to snoop around her house for too long, so you returned to your chair and waited. And waited. Finally, after an hour or so, her eyes fluttered open.

You smiled faintly and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. It was still messy from the bath. Pinkie just watched you silently, pulling the covers further up so they were covering her neck. She started to worry. Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes.

“I'm sorry...” she whispered, almost inaudibly. “I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...” Her voice cracked and she trembled, biting back tears. She took in sharp breaths of air as she tried to speak. “I...I ran away from you, and...I could barely talk to you...and I don't want...you to hate me...”

You frowned in concern and set a hand on her hoof. You weren't mad at her...you didn't even know why she was crying. You reassured her that you weren't upset; you had no reason to hate her. She shook her head.

“But I don't know how I'm going to talk to you anymore...” she murmured.

You asked her why.

Her voice became soft. “Because I...I think I love you...” She looked down. She didn't want to see your reaction.

You knelt in front of the bed and lovingly caressed her cheek. She was so warm...so soft. She was absolutely beautiful, even with her mane in a mess and her coat stained with tears. You were certain of it, and so you told her those four words she needed to hear right now,

I love you too.

You tilted her head upward and kissed her. Not on the head like last time, but on her lips. Time stopped. Everything else faded away. It was just you and Pinkie, in silence, sharing your first kiss together. Right when you were about to pull away, she wrapped her hooves around you and pulled you back in. She was the one to kiss you this time, not willing to let you go. You smiled against her lips and pressed a hand to her heart. It was beating fast, but she didn't care anymore. She loved you, and if she had to stay like this forever, it was worth it.

Ch. 4 - A First Time for Everything

(Important) Author's note: So, I'm trying something a bit different here. Not only are we back to the present, but I've also decided to add in brief selections of dialogue for you, the narrator. I understand that this is a risky move, but there's just some stuff that can't be communicated via a nod or some other gesture. In the past I've done it using a descriptive umbrella, such as “you tell her that (such-and-such)”, but there's a level of personal connection that can't be achieved without straightforward, traditional dialogue. So from now on, there will be one or two instances where you speak, even if it doesn't match the way you speak in real life. I'll try to make it sound pretty general, but please forgive me if it isn't perfect. Thanks for understanding.

...Also, I've been gone for the past week, so it's been like three weeks since I've written a chapter. My bad. Thanks for being patient.

Chapter Four

You wait outside the bathroom as Pinkie Pie finishes getting ready for your get-together with Fluttershy. This has only been a recent occurrence; she started caring about her appearance shortly after she became pregnant. You personally don't mind whether she dresses up or not. Either way, she'll look amazing to you. Whenever you go out, though, she always insists on wearing her mane in a more adult style. When you ask her why, she always gives you the same response: “Because cotton candy isn't as pretty as ribbon candy.” Although you understand, you worry about her insecurity. She was never concerned about her looks when you were dating. Of course, you only really started caring about your own appearance once you got married, so you can't judge. You would like to think it isn't about you; she doesn't work too hard to look nice when it's just you two alone; but you know you must have caused this change somehow.

Fluttershy, surprisingly enough, was the one who invited you two to tea. That was uncharacteristic of her, but it was nice to see her break out of her shell. She's been like that lately. You haven't seen her much (without Pinkie by your side, you don't have much of a reason to), but each time you run into each other she seems to be more outgoing. This is her biggest step forward. You know she has invited her friends over before, but never you. She was the slowest to accept you when you were dating Pinkie, mostly because you frightened her. Anything bigger than Fluttershy frightens her, except maybe bears. You've been told she can kill a bear if she wanted to. You'd like to see that. You wonder how that would play out...

Pinkie's voice derails your train of thought. “How do I look?”

You turn and see your wife smiling up at you. She has delicate curls in her mane. Mildly glossy lips. A thin coating of mascara to bring out her eyes. The faintest layer of blush. She looks so gorgeous, you could just kiss her. You tell her this, but mention you don't want to mess up her lips by doing so. She nuzzles your side and giggles.

“You're such a sweetie. Now let's go; I don't want to keep Fluttershy waiting!”

You nod and walk to the door. You open it for her, and after she's trotted out, you follow behind. You notice her tail has those same delicate curls. It's no wonder she took so long in the bathroom. It hurts to admit, but you prefer this to how she usually looks. It's not that she looks bad normally; it's just that she looks so beautiful on days like this. It's nice to see her act like an adult, despite how much you adore her occasional childishness. To you, this is a sign that she is ready to become a mother. Maybe that's why she started caring about her appearance.

As you walk beside your wife through the center of town, you start to wonder about yourself. Whether you're ready to become a father. Whether you're putting in the same effort as Pinkie. Pinkie has given up so much for this foal: her social life, her job, the respect of her parents for marrying a human...and what have you given up? You've worked some extra hours at the bakery to pay for supplies for your child. That's it.

Pinkie gives you a look of concern. “Are you okay? You didn't answer my question.”

You respond with a mildly confused frown, not having heard it.

“I asked if we should do something in return for Fluttershy. This is really thoughtful of her, and I know how much of a step forward this is.”

You nod. That sounds like a good idea. You ask her what she would want.

“Oh, Fluttershy would like anything! She only cares about the thought. Why don't we make her something? You can cook and I can decorate.” Pinkie smiles, but it's different from her usual one. It's a longing, nostalgic smile. “We'd be just like Mr. and Mrs. Cake...” she says, a bit more quietly. There is a long pause. After a good minute, she speaks again. “You know, when Rarity seemed frustrated at her foal, it got me thinking about Mrs. Cake after she had her twins. She was really tired, but she loved them. I saw it. She let me hold them, play with them, let me foalsit them as they got older...and they were super cute, too. Not just Pound and Pumpkin, but the whole family. They looked so perfect together.”

Pinkie's smile becomes more faint. “I mean, Mrs. Cake is sick now, but she still takes time to help the twins with their school work, and she always makes time to spend with her husband...she hasn't skipped a beat. I want to be like that someday. A mother and a wife, until the end...”

You nod and pet her coat, bringing her just a bit closer to you as you walk. She was probably trying to tell you something. She hasn't brought up the Cakes as much recently as she used to. When you were dating, she would bring them up at least once every date, even if just in passing. But four months ago, you remember Pinkie coming home with a distant look in her eyes. She didn't want to talk that night. She just went straight to bed, not even bothering to eat first. Later that night, you heard quiet sobs coming from the bedroom. You rushed in to see what was wrong. She tried to speak, but the most she could muster was to sputter out a little “Mrs. Cake” before crying again. The worst possibilities came to mind. Did she die? Did she and Mr. Cake divorce? Did she disappear, leaving her wife and husband?

Pinkie clutched your shirt and you just wrapped your arms around her, comforting her until the worst of it was over.

Your memory is cut short by Pinkie's voice.

“Um, honey?” says Pinkie. “It's kind of hard to walk like this.”

You look down and realize that you were accidentally pulling your wife closer during your recollection. You sheepishly let go and she distances herself a bit. You walk quietly for a while, looking ahead, and then feel the familiar texture of your wife's coat rubbing against your hip. You look down and see her grinning.

“Well, it can't hurt for a bit, right?”

You laugh and lean down to give her a kiss. You can't help it, even if her makeup does get a bit messed up. Her lips are soft, and her gloss tastes like strawberries. That might seem childish to some, but it's Pinkie. She'll always have some of that whimsical filly nature in her. It's just another part of her you love.

Soon, you find that long dirt trail leading to Fluttershy's. The trees on either side of the path provide you with shade as you walk, and the light breeze is soothing. Pinkie sighs softly and leans against you as she trots along. Soon, you get to Fluttershy's front door and knock. The door opens almost right away.

“Oh, you're here!” says Fluttershy with a smile. “Come in, please.”

Fluttershy seems eager. Pinkie giggles and trots inside, and you follow after her. There is a small round table set out with a teapot in the center, and next to it are three white teacups. On the other side is some milk and sugar. Pinkie takes a seat in one of the chairs and so do you; the table is slightly taller than most others in Ponyville, and you can only assume Fluttershy was considering your height when she brought it out. That was nice of her; you were tired of always sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“Pinkie Pie, how are you? How's the foal?” asks Fluttershy.

Pinkie rubs her belly. “Good; Twilight says it's healthy, but we don't want to know the gender. We want it to be a surprise.”

“Have you felt it kick yet?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet, but Rarity says it'll happen soon. She wants to know the gender so she can make clothes for it.” She laughs. “She's been trying to get us to find out for weeks!”

Fluttershy giggles. “That sounds like Rarity. She didn't know Unique's gender at first, though, did she?”

“No, but that's just how Rarity is. Too eager for her own good,” responds Pinkie.

You ask Fluttershy why she invited you to her home.

“Oh, um, right. Well, I was talking to Applejack and I remembered her birthday is soon.” She looks down at her teacup shyly. “Pinkie, if it's not too much to ask...could you maybe...”

“Throw a party for her?” interrupts Pinkie, setting her hooves on the table and standing.

“Um, yes.”

Pinkie beams. “Of course I can, you silly filly!” She sits back down and her eyes begin to dart back and forth, already planning mentally.

“It's been a while,” you say to Fluttershy. She smiles and nods in return.

“I'm just worried about her,” Fluttershy explains. “I want a way to introduce her to some ponies; she seems nervous about meeting stallions, and seeing as you two and Rarity are already married, well...”

“You want to help her?” says Pinkie. “But what about you?”

Fluttershy blushes faintly. “Oh, um, I'm fine. I'm not looking for anypony right now...”

Well, you can't say it's surprising. Fluttershy would be the last to find someone in the group. Her and Applejack are the only ones left that are single, but honestly, it would be best for them both to find coltfriends soon. Pinkie tells you they've felt left out of the group lately. But you knew from the start that things would change between them, especially once Rarity got married. You decide you're going to help Applejack find someone at the party if you can. I mean, you'll end up going with Pinkie anyway, so what's the harm?

The rest of the tea date goes well. You mostly listen as Fluttershy and Pinkie chat, catching up on the latest events and developments in their lives. Fluttershy occasionally asks you a question, to which you respond in a friendly, lighthearted manner. Although you don't always feel like faking enthusiasm, you want a good relationship with Pinkie's friends. That was one of the biggest obstacles when you first met, and ever since you've been making strides to earn their approval. Fluttershy is the last one left now, more or less.

After two hours of tea, chatting, and Fluttershy showing Pinkie her new garden, you and your wife say goodbye. She and Fluttershy made plans to get together the following week, and when you were invited, you said they need some bonding time and respectfully declined. You'll use that time to do something for the foal, like start making plans for his or her room. You're going to make more sacrifices from now on. You've focused too much on Pinkie becoming a mother and need to make yourself ready for fatherhood.

The whole walk home, Pinkie has this light, warm smile across her face. “Thanks for coming,” she says. “I was worried about Fluttershy, but she seems fine. Happy, even. I mean, I want her to find her special somepony, but she has time. She can wait until she's ready.” She moves her and rubs it lovingly against your hand. “I know you weren't able to say much. It's hard getting along with friends you don't have a history with.” She tilts her head up. You know this means she wants a kiss. You lean down and she gives you one that is more sensual than you expect. She giggles softly as you pull away. “And that's just part one.”

Part one? What is she talking about?

“Oh, you'll see,” she says with a little wink. She skips ahead as well as she can in her pregnant state and sways her hips softly as you follow behind.

Oh. That's what she means. You grin and follow close behind. You wonder what she has in store. This isn't the first time this has happened; she has these little playful moments from time to time that always end in something wonderful. But this time, maybe she's just happy you came with her. Either way, you're happy she's thinking of you.

You get back to your home and she walks up the stairs, letting her tail sway from side to side. She hums innocently and trots to your room. You follow her in and she hops up onto the bed.

“You wanna come up here?” she asks sweetly. You get up. She smiles and blushes softly as she speaks, mostly because she's rarely so forward. “You might want to take off some of those clothes if you want your surprise.”

You grin and laugh softly, pulling off your shirt. She watches, her tail still swaying. You get down to your underwear before she speaks again.

“You know how the other day, you said you just wanted to do something nice for me, and that you didn't need anything for yourself?”

You nod.

She smiles, still shy about the matter. “Well...now I want to do something for you, so...” She comes closer and sets her hooves on your hips. She holds the elastic of your underwear with her teeth and slowly pulls it off. You can see her visibly become a little redder as your member is exposed, but she doesn't look away. You feel yourself becoming harder as she looks at you. You expect her to change positions so you two can make love, but she doesn't move. She stays where she is.

“I know you've never brought it up because you want me to feel comfortable...” she says softly, “But this is for you, and I want to make you feel good.” She sets her hooves on your thighs and moves in.

You can feel your heart beat quickly as she comes closer. It's true; you've never done this with her. You never wanted to ask because you only cared about her pleasure. You loved making her happy and letting her know she would never have to step outside her comfort zone. This is different, though. She wants to do this, and yet you still worry she won't enjoy it. But you let her do it anyway.

She looks down at your penis as a drop of liquid pools at the top in anticipation. She figures that's a good place to start. She takes a lick—her very first taste of your manhood—and lets the pre run across her tongue. You watch her expression for any hesitation and she actually seems relieved.

“I was worried,” she says, “But...it's not that bad.” She kisses your tip. You can feel the glossy texture and warmth of her lips. She looks up at you just to make sure you're fine and you respond with a loving smile. Content with this, she goes back down and licks from the bottom of your shaft up. She's never seen you this closely before. This is more intimate than she's used to. Once she reaches the top, she opens her mouth and takes you in. She wraps her lips around your shaft and starts going down. Everything starts off slow as she tries to get a feel for it, but each time she goes down she goes deeper.

Soon, she's as low as she can take you. You let out a low moan just to let her know she's doing well. You can see her smile slightly and relax more. She breathes out her nose gently and you can feel it against your lower body; just another reminder of what she's doing for you. Her expression keeps making small shifts as she does things differently with her tongue. To you, though, it's all fantastic. It's wet, sensual, and the perfect balance between gentle and rough. Yet still, you have trouble knowing what to do. On one hand, you can't do much to begin with. On the other hand, there must be some way to make this better for her. She said this was for you, but your instinct to make her feel good is kicking in. You decide that the most you can do is let her know she's doing a good job, so you moan again.

As she gains confidence, she starts to bob her head faster. She presses her hooves against your manhood and massages it as she focuses on the top. She seems to be getting the hang of it.

You can feel yourself tighten. It must be mental, because you haven't been doing this for too long. But just knowing that she's here, giving you a blow job...that alone is getting you riled up. You try to hold back. You summon all your strength, but you just can't. You warn her, but she keeps going, wanting to show you what she can do. Of course, that's only until she feels the first stream of cum hit her tongue.

You see Pinkie's eyes widen as the rest shoots inside, shot by shot. The next few seconds are so slow, it feels like time has stopped. She isn't used to the taste. She didn't know it would feel so strange; she only wanted you to feel good. She wanted to show you she loves you just as much as you love her. And she especially didn't want you feeling guilty for having her do it. But this was just too much at once.

She pulls back, taking her lips off your length. She doesn't say a word. She looks up at you, mouth closed for fear of you finding out. You ask if she's alright and she nods. You smile comfortingly and tell her it's alright; that she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to.

Pinkie clearly wishes she had more willpower, but she brings her head down to the sheets and spits it out. She blushes profusely. “I'm sorry...” she mutters. “It's not...I mean, I didn't mean to...” She can't think of the right words, so once again, she just apologizes. She's so embarrassed, you feel like you need to comfort her.

You open your arms and she comes up to you. You give her a hug and a kiss. “Don't worry,” you tell her, softly brushing her mane with your fingers. “It doesn't matter. There's a first time for everything, and I'm just happy you did that for me. It was perfect.” You give her one more kiss and she sets a hoof on your chest, raising her head to look at you.

“Really?” she says.

You nod, smiling. “Really.”

She looks down for a second, thinking, before meeting your gaze again. “Do you promise?”

You chuckle. “I promise.”

You hold her close and rub her back. She rests against you, closing her eyes and blushing. Not out of embarrassment, and not out of timidness, but because she remembers once again why she fell in love with you.

Ch. 5 - How You Got Here

Be sure to give feedback as usual! I'm not too sure about this one.

Chapter Five

You didn't realize it at the time, but planning for a party after Pinkie had given up her life as a party planner meant you'd have to buy supplies. And boy, did Pinkie buy supplies. She's burned through a couple hundred bits so far, and she won't tell you what she's buying, either. She says she'll have it all set up the day of the party, and that you should just wait and be surprised. That's fine with you, but you don't think she realizes she's spending the money you were going to use for the foal's room. After last night, however, you figure she's earned it.

Today is a Sunday, meaning you don't have to work. Instead, you spend the day helping Pinkie prepare for the party, although her instructions are pretty vague. The only thing she's told you so far is to “Get a cake ready, but be sure it isn't apple.” Apparently that's too predictable. Being a baker, though, you have too much experience with cakes to just choose one. There are subtle nuances to what makes a cake good, and picking one at random would be like telling a stage musician to go into a music store and just “pick out an instrument”. It would take hours to decide.

It's a hot day out, about 98 degrees, and you go out wearing a black collared shirt and a nice pair of jeans made by Rarity. She tells you they used to be her husband's, but it doesn't show. They fit perfectly and look fantastic. After wearing the same clothes for work nearly every day, this is a nice change of pace.

On Sundays, Sugar Cube Corner sells the cakes and pastries prepared on previous days, so no one is working the kitchen. Instead, only one pony is working, Mr. Cake, who seems a little out of his element. It's usually his wife working the counter, but after what Pinkie has been telling you, you aren't surprised to see him in her stead. He greets you and notices your wife isn't present.

“Is Pinkie staying home today?” he asks.

You relay to him the extent of your knowledge of what Pinkie is doing at the moment, then explain her request.

Mr. Cake frowns in thought. “Just a cake? That's too vague...”

“That's what I thought,” you tell him.

He puts his hooves together and leans on the counter, considering your options. He sighs. “My wife usually sells the cakes; I just bake them. I suppose we'll need to ask her. Hold on...” He walks up the small set of stairs leading to their room. A minute or so passes until you can hear a faint conversation which gradually gets louder.

“He just wants to know. You didn't have to get out of bed.”

“I'm fine, honey. It's good for me to get some exercise...”

“The doctor told you not to. Please, go back to sleep.”

“But honey, this is for Pinkie. I wouldn't want her to be disappointed.”

“Please, just rest. At least until your session tomorrow. I can take care of this...”

You feel a small part of yourself sink as you see Mrs. Cake descend the stairs. Her hair has become more gray, and parts of it are thinning. She has tired eyes. She's thinner than you remember. She's clearly having trouble walking; but Pinkie was right. She hasn't stopped smiling.

“Hello, dear. How is Pinkie doing?” she asks, trotting behind the counter. She voice possesses a subtle shakiness, though it's still sweet and mostly the same.

You force a smile and answer with a simple 'good'. You glance at Mr. Cake and notice him watching his wife in concern. You can only guess this isn't the first time this has happened. Mrs. Cake cares too much about the ponies in Ponyville to stay away when they visit. She's like a mother to everyone. Especially Pinkie.

“So, you need a birthday cake? Knowing Applejack, she wouldn't want something elaborate. She's a very practical pony. Nothing too bright; perhaps something with an earthy tone.”

Mr. Cake quickly throws out an option. “A carrot cake? It's my specialty, and I could get it done on my own fast.”

His wife chuckles. “That's alright, dear. I can help you--”

“Go to bed,” he says sternly, raising his voice and cutting her off.

The ensuing silence is painful. The silent exchange between them is like nothing you have ever seen. Mrs. Cake's eyes widen just barely as she gazes at her husband. Her mouth opens slightly, as though she wants to say something, but no words come out. She looks surprised. Afraid, almost. For just a second, you notice Mr. Cake's expression change to one of regret, but he doesn't say a word, knowing his decision is for the best. You've never seen him raise his voice to his wife, and from the looks of it, she hasn't either.

The corners of Mrs. Cake's mouth quiver as she attempts to smile. “Yes...you're right. I should rest.” She looks at you and nods her head. “Tell Pinkie I say hello.” She trots back to her room, her visage now heavy with dismay. You don't know what to say, or whether you should even say anything.

“Come back in two and a half hours,” Mr. Cake says to you, sighing and averting his eyes. “It will be ready then.” He keeps his gaze locked on the floor, refusing to look you in the eye.

You hesitate briefly before asking if anything is wrong.

He stares at the floor, debating whether to answer. Finally, he responds, “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. The cake will be ready at one.”

With that, he walks into the kitchen.

When you get home, you find several large cardboard boxes sitting by the front door. You enter the house and call for Pinkie, letting her know her packages have arrived. She bounces to the door eagerly. Being able to throw a party again has been good for her.

“I'm so excited!” she giggles. She turns and grins at you. “Just wait and see! This will be the best party I've ever thrown. Did you get the cake?”

You nod. “It's going to be a carrot cake; it will be ready at one.” You decide against telling her what happened at Sugar Cube Corner.

“Oh, that's a good choice! Carrot cake is super yummy; it doesn't feel like you're eating carrots at all.”

You chuckle and give her a kiss. She's just so cute. It's been a while since you've seen her act so filly-like. You try to push today's events to the back of your mind. You can't worry too much about the Cakes. They're doing fine. They can handle things on their own.

...But it's not possible. You just can't forget that look in Mrs. Cake's eye when her husband told her to leave. You wish you could side with her, but at the same time, you could see how hard it was for Mr. Cake as well. He wanted her to rest for her own good. He mentioned a session...what kind of session? Therapy? Chemo? You don't even know what kind of sickness she has. You can only imagine how Pinkie feels.

You remember one of the reasons humans first tried making contact with Equestria was to trade with them for medicine. Equestria was the only country with magical creatures, so they were able to create miracle cures while humans were struggling to find scientific methods of medicine production. Your father was an ambassador, so he constantly communicated with the Equestrian government, searching for possible ways to pay the ponies for giving the humans medicine. The humans figured the ponies would be quicker at finding cures for things like heart disease and cancer, and getting a hold of them could mean saving millions of lives. Unfortunately, ponies viewed humans as selfish, warring creatures and refused to trade with them.

Your father went on trips to Canterlot often to discuss political matters with the Equestrian government. Since you were young, you went with him most of the time. The ponies didn't mind human children in their country; they felt that a child couldn't do any harm to Equestrian society. Your father, on the other hand, they were suspicious of; only a few humans lived in Equestria, and most of them were there for political reasons. You found this sad. You had been to Canterlot so many times, you had grown attached to it. You wished you could live with the ponies, coexisting peacefully without fear of discrimination. So you prepared to immigrate as you grew older, studying Equestrian government and customs in hopes of changing their views on humans. You were committed, and even started an Equestria Appreciation Club in high school that received over twenty active members. Then, you blazed through college, putting your all into studies so you could find a decent job in Equestria once you got there.

Finally, the time came for you to immigrate. It was more painful than you had ever imagined. You spent hours filling out forms ensuring you weren't a human terrorist. You took several long, involved tests regarding Equestrian history and culture. Then, you waited a full year, during which you worked overtime for the expenses of your new home. When your friends found out you were moving, many of them left you. It wasn't until that point you realized how bad relations were between your country and Equestria, but that didn't stop you. Finally, one year after the process began, you were an official dual citizen. You arrived in Equestria with nothing but a suitcase and 18 hours' worth of jet lag, but you were ready.

You found your first job at a bank. The manager was kind enough to hire you, but you soon realized that ponies didn't like entrusting their money to a human. In fact, the ponies didn't like trusting you with anything. You were no longer a child. You were an adult human male with a major in Equestrian Politics. You were scum to them. They didn't want you anymore.

You spent two long, emotionally grueling months in Canterlot before deciding to leave. However, you weren't going to give up. You decided you would move somewhere else where the ponies were less judgmental. More friendly. More humble. And that's when you heard the name of a small town, Ponyville, mentioned in passing by a dressed-up mare depositing a check. She was speaking to her husband, and she referred to it as a 'town for the underwhelming', but that sounded perfect for you. If Canterlot ponies hated it, odds were you would love it.

Getting there was the toughest part. You had no investments to your name. You were lucky to get an apartment, but Canterlot apartments burned your finances like none other. You just barely had enough to move, but as you found out from a fellow teller, they didn't have apartments in Ponyville, only homes, meaning you would have to take on a mortgage. It was a risky move, especially since you had just graduated college and had student loans to pay off.

You kept reminding yourself this was for the good of humanity. It was for the good of pony kind, too. It was to end racism and show that humans and ponies were equal. So you took the biggest chance of your relatively short life and bought a house. You thought that you might find a wife someday (though with the human population it was unlikely), so you were sure to get one big enough for two people.

As you were moving the boxes from your apartment into your new home, you witnessed something amazing. Something unheard of. Something that gave you hope. It was a purple-maned pony walking beside a human, conversing with him openly. She was even smiling. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you saw the human lean down and give her a kiss. A kiss! She returned it, too; it wasn't one-sided. Then you noticed her slightly swelled abdomen and realized she was pregnant.

At the time, all you had were questions. Was the baby his? If it was, would it be part-pony, part-human? Were they married? You had forgotten to check for a ring...but in the end, it didn't matter. You knew that whoever he was, he was accepted, meaning you could be, too.

You hear Pinkie's voice and snap back into the present, just like before.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” she asks, nuzzling your side. You look down and pet her reassuringly. She frowns mildly. “No, really. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you answer. You just have a lot on your mind. You were just reminded today that despite all the magic in Equestria, some things can't be healed yet.

“Good. I was worried. Now then...” She walks outside and presses her hooves hard onto the top of the first box, cracking the tape and splitting it. She peers inside before whipping her head in your direction. “They got the color wrong!” she huffs. “I told them auburn, not brown...”

You can't help but smirk. “Is there a difference?”

She gasps. “Of course there's a difference! Saying auburn is like brown is like saying an orange is like a grapefruit! They're totally different!”

You laugh. “But an orange and a grapefruit are pretty similar! They just taste different.”

Pinkie stomps her hooves on the ground. “You know what I mean! We have to send them back. We can't take any chances!”

She's acting so much like Rarity right now. Maybe her pregnancy hormones are kicking in. You haven't seen her act out yet, though, so that's a good sign. “Do you want to take a break?” you ask. “You can go meet with somepony and I can take over. I don't mind.”

Pinkie thinks about it. She does need a break; she's been away from her friends for a while now. She nods. “Okay.” She smiles and gets up, setting her hooves on your chest and giving you a kiss. “Just try to organize the boxes and set aside anything that doesn't match the list on the counter.”  She gestures to a piece of paper resting on the island in the kitchen. “But don't look inside any of them! Just look at the labels.” She gets back onto the ground and says goodbye before walking out.

You look at the first box and set it aside, knowing that somehow, it's wrong. You end up pushing down one of the cardboard flaps, needing to peek. It looks like a box of plastic tablecloths...no, regular tablecloths. Brown. You don't know why making it auburn would make a difference, though.

You remind yourself not to look again as you get to the next one. You can't break Pinkie's trust. As she always says, breaking somepony's trust is the fastest way to lose a friend forever. You think that a husband would get a few more chances than just a regular friend, but you decide not to take any. You lift the second box and grunt. What's in this box, bricks? Still, you don't look. You set it next to the previous one. The label reads “PLMNT STGS 00124”. Perfect. That totally helps you know where to put it. Maybe you'll just arrange them by weight...

Your phone vibrates. It must be your job. Why are they calling you on a Sunday? You pull it out of your pocket and see the name 'Jonathan' on the caller I.D. You answer it right away.

“Hey, Jonathan!” you say with a grin. “What's going on? I haven't seen you in ages.”

“Hey! I'm doing good,” he responds with a laugh. “Man, you sound different. Maybe it's just your voice on the phone. Of course, I haven't heard you in a year...”

“More than a year,” you say. “Not since I first moved to Canterlot. How's everything?”

“Can't complain. I'm just calling to let you know I'm visiting Equestria in two days and was wondering if you wanted to get together.”

Oh, right, Jonathan would be going on his first Canterlot trip soon. If you were still pursuing your political career, you would be going around this time, too. Jonathan was one of your roommates in college; you shared the same major. “That sounds great!” you respond, grinning. “I can introduce you to my wife and...”

“Your wife?” he interrupts, followed by a laugh. “I never thought you'd get married! What's she like?”

“Was that an insult? Anyway, yeah, she's great. She's...” You pause as you remember that no one from home knows you married a pony. “She's beautiful. Sweet, considerate, funny...one-of-a-kind. You'll love her.”

“Can't wait. It's so crazy you met another human in Equestria...”

You can't think of a proper response for that. “Hey, I need to go. I'll call you later, alright? Take care.” You hang up. You start to feel something akin to disappointment. Are you ashamed to have married a pony? You hope not. That would break Pinkie's heart.

You return to the task at-hand, but you worry about your friend's impression of your new life. Pinkie has already gone through the shock of her family finding out. Your family still doesn't know. You suppose this will be your first real challenge.