Jim x Dwight Oneshots *smut warning*

Jim and Dwight mpreg pt. 3 (ART)

(In case you don't know, this is a continuation of the storyline already in this book, so go back and read those chapters if you haven't already!)

(Also another update, I made a NSFW sims 4 machinima based on this story. You can find it on the google drive link in my bio)

In the cozy dining area of our quaint farmhouse, early morning sunlight streams through lace curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room—a scene of domestic tranquility that Dwight and I cherish.

Dwight sits at the wooden dining table, cradling our adorable one-year-old son, Phillip, on his lap. Phillip, dressed in tiny overalls adorned with miniature red beets, lights up the room with his plump cheeks and bright blue eyes, eagerly watching Dwight.

Dwight scoops a spoonful of homemade beet paste from a small glass jar, guiding it towards Phillip's tiny mouth. The little guy's enthusiasm is evident as he opens his mouth wide, allowing the beet paste to disappear into his mouth with a delighted smacking sound.

I stroll in from the adjacent living room, and my eyes dart around the kitchen. "Hey, Dwight," I call out, my voice filled with a mix of curiosity and excitement, "you think there's any more of that birthday cake from Phillip's big day in the fridge?"

Dwight's brow furrows in thought, his gaze shifting from Phillip to me. "I think there might be some in the back."

My eyes light up as I spot the cake at the rear of the fridge. Carefully, I retrieve the container, trying not to make too much noise. I slice myself a generous portion, a hearty piece that threatens to overflow from the plate. I gently place the box back in the fridge before heading back to the dining table, where Dwight and Phillip sit.

With a playful grin, I take a big, unabashed bite. "I can't believe our little guy is one year old already," I muse between mouthfuls of cake.

Dwight raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk forming on his lips. "Whoa there, Jim," he says with mock concern, "got enough cake for yourself?"

I chuckle, swallowing my mouthful of frosting. "Someone's gotta eat it before it goes bad, right?"

My eyes sparkle mischievously as I take another heaping forkful of cake, savoring the sweet and creamy confection. In just two bites, I nearly devour half my slice. Dwight and Phillip, their wide eyes fixed on my eating, share a glance filled with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment.

Still chewing, I can't help but notice the homemade beet paste that Dwight has been feeding to Phillip. My eyes dart between the cake and the jar of beet paste, and a playful idea begins to form. I lean over and scoop up a massive dollop of beet paste, plopping it onto my next bite of cake.

Dwight raises an eyebrow, his amusement giving way to a mock-serious expression. "Jim, leave a little for Phillip, why don't you?"

"Consider it the daddy tax," I chuckle between bites, thoroughly enjoying the fusion of flavors.

Dwight rolls his eyes with a smile, fully aware that my antics are all in good fun. He's about to retort when a familiar smell reaches his nose, prompting him to shift his attention.

"Someone needs their diaper changed, huh?" Dwight remarks, glancing down at Phillip. He lifts our son from his lap, cradling him in his arms. Phillip babbles and giggles, seemingly oblivious to the impending diaper change.

I watch them go with a small smile, my plate of cake now almost empty. I lean back in my chair, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. The combination of rich vanilla and earthy beet paste has left me feeling content in a way that only life on the beet farm with Dwight and Phillip can.