notnicodrawingstuff

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Full term pregnant guy has been having intense back pain all day. By the time he realizes that it was labor, the baby is already through his cervix; luckily, he lives near the hospital so he should be able to make it, right? He rushes to get out of the house, but at the very last second, he slips due to his haste and falls on his back. He tries to get up, but his big belly is weighing him down. He even tries to roll on his side to get up, but the pain is too great and his efforts just push the baby down further. Eventually, he has to give up and is stuck giving birth on his back with no gravity to help him and his pants are still on.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Engineered

18+ fiction, no minors allowed

Based of this from my side

Contains: Cryptic pregnancy, trans (ftm) preg, geriatric pregnancy, accidentally drinking while pregnant, near clothing birth, about 3k words.

.

.

.

Raphael splashed water on his face and stood up. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw an accomplished man with cinnamon sugar hair, brown eyes, and weathering brown skin. 

He smiled, showing off his gold capped tooth and happily shot himself some finger guns. Sure, he had gained a little weight recently, but he didn't mind. That kind of thing came with age. 

He found himself deep in thought. Aging was a hard thing for people like him to come by. He felt lucky to have a safe, cozy apartment where he could decompress however he wanted. 

But that was also a kind of depressing thought, so he shook it out of his head. It was time to move on before he ruined such a nice morning. 

He pulled on a long sleeve white button down, thick, light washed jeans, his work boots and his hard hat and vest. 

Today was supposed to be a short day due to the rain, so If he was lucky, maybe he could get a drink with his coworkers at the bar. They had a couple boys that were new to the site, Trevor and Phil, since his best employee, Garrett, was recovering from heart surgery.

They were young and spry, but at times, that could be a problem. Their decorum was kind of lacking. Raphael sighed at the thought of them. Hopefully, he could talk some sense into those two trouble makers, before they offended too many people. 

Pulling on his bag and grabbing his jug of water, Raphael walked out of the door to greet the cloudy day. 

~~~

Raphael enjoyed designing. Putting thought into buildings took a lot of care. Would this be functional? Are there accomodations available for people with disabilities? Why was there a sink in the closet? 

But, he adored being on site. Slowly watching his designs come alive was magical. They were like his babies. 

Really big, metal babies. 

With a goofy grin, he hopped out of his jeep and walked up to the cautionary fences.

“Hey, Darryl!” He exclaimed.

Darryl, the security guard on duty, looked up from his newspaper. At first he looked grouchy, but a smile spread across his face as soon as he saw Raphael. 

“Raphi! Good to see ya!” He replied.

“What's up?” Raphael asked. 

“Not much. Though, Amani did just lose her first tooth.” He said. 

Raphael nodded. “Oh, that's cool. Did she get anything from the tooth fairy?” He asked. 

“She caught me trying to sneak a 5 dollar bill under her pillow last night. She seemed pretty vindicated.” Darryl said, shrugging. 

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. 

“Next, she's gonna discover Santa Claus.” He joked. 

Darryl sighed. “I thought we had a few more years.” He said. 

“She's seven, right?” Raphael asked. 

“Yeah.”

Raphael shrugged. “I don't know what to tell ya. Childhood whimsy was never my strong suit.” He said. 

Darryl chuckled and picked up his newspaper. “Thanks for listening anyway.” He replied. 

Raphael nodded and waved. “See ya Darryl!”

To be honest, Raphael wasn't sure he wanted children, but it was too late now anyway. He was 52 years old and hadn't had a period since he started testosterone thirty years ago. He was probably dried up by now.

No matter. He had a building to oversee.

~~~

Lucky for him, the forecast was right this time. Midway through his shift, it started coming down.

Phil shook water out of his hair like a dog after they cleared the site. Raphael dodged the droplets and nearly ran into Trevor, who laughed heartily.

Raphael kissed his teeth and pushed Trevor away playfully. As they walked away, Darryl met up with them, taking off his hardhat. 

“What do you say we go get some drinks?” He suggested. 

Raphael smiled slyly. “You payin’?” He joked. 

Darryl wrinkled his nose like he had smelled something disgusting. “Now you know damn well…” He started. 

Raphael threw his hands up playfully. “I’m just joshin’ ya. Drinks are on me tonight.” He said.

Trevor and Phil high fived, knowing their boss had the money to cover them. Raphael rolled his eyes at the young bucks. 

“Thanks, Raphi!” Darryl cheered, running to his car. 

Raphael chuckled and started to walk to his car. As the last of his laugh escaped him, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach like a bolt of lightning. Fast and hot. 

He was taken aback, putting his hand where the pain had hit. He frowned curiously. After a few moments, it passed and didn't come back.

Raphael sighed softly and started walking to his car. Maybe he was coming down with something. 

~~~

He was definitely coming down with something, or maybe he had forgotten his t shot. This felt worse than cramps though. 

Throughout the night, the pain kept coming back, striking him suddenly. As time went on, the pain got worse and more frequent. He didn't even feel like drinking anymore. The atmosphere of the bar was completely lost on him as he started to be swallowed by the aches. 

“Hey…”

Raphael heard someone speak, but he was so dizzy he could barely register it. 

“Hey, pops!”

Raphael suddenly widened his eyes and became aware of his surroundings. Trevor was staring at him worriedly, with his big brown eyes. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

Raphael took a shot, hoping to distract himself. “I told you not to call me that.” He replied gruffly. 

“Sorry, you just seem kind of out of it. And you’ve only had two shots.” Trevor said. 

Raphael sniffed and closed his eyes tiredly. “I’m okay, I’m just old. I guess these years are finally catching up with me.” He replied.

Just as he thought about taking another shot to numb the pain, another burst of pain ripped through him, but this was different. It was stronger, it felt like his belly had its own heartbeat. He grunted and doubled over on the bar, gritting his teeth as his hips ached. 

Suddenly, he felt a pop and a gush of fluid soaked his boxers. He jumped in surprise and his eyes opened wide. What the hell was happening? 

“Mr. Cortez?” Phil gruffed, looking at him through his long, scruffy brown hair. 

Raphael clutched his belly as the pain passed, feeling whatever was in his boxers starting to soak through his pants. He had to get out of here. 

Without a word, he snatched his jacket off of the back of the chair and made a break for it, leaving his card for the bartender. 

“Mr. Cortez!” Trevor shouted. 

“Raphi!” Darryl called after him. 

Raphael ignored their cries and ran to his car, not noticing the blood trailing behind him. 

~~~

The drive home was the most excruciating thing he had ever experienced. Waking up after surgery had nothing on it. He clutched his belly in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, gritting his teeth to bite back the pain. 

Just as he reached the next light, it flashed red, trapping him there. 

“Fuck…” He grunted under his breath. 

Another ripple of agony pushed through him as he tried to keep himself together. It forced his jaws apart, and he screamed in torment. He wrenched his eyes shut and put his chin to his chest. He felt like he needed to take a shit, but a thousand times more painful. On instinct, he put his chin to his chest and before he knew it, he found himself pushing. 

But pushing out what?

A burst of fluid spilled from his pussy as he felt the blockage press downwards. He gasped as the explosion of pain passed. Even after that, he felt sore and now, his pants and the seat of his car were soaked. Carefully, he reached down and touched his jeans. When his hand came back up, he caught the shimmer of clearish pink liquid in the street lights. 

“Shit!” He hissed. 

Maybe he needed to go to the hospital. Something was definitely wrong, but what? This was clearly more than a stomach bug. 

Interrupting his thoughts, a horn blew behind him. He looked up from his hand, seeing that the light had turned green. Immediately, he pressed his foot on the gas pedal and started for his apartment. 

~~~

As quickly as he could, he scurried into his apartment under the cover of the night and rain. As soon as he got through the door, he reached for his phone, but found that all of his pockets were empty. 

Tears pricked his eyes as he realized that in his haste, he had left it at the bar.

“Fu-”

Cutting him off and turning his curse into a cry, another whip like sting shot through his abdomen and back, causing him to sink to the floor against the front door. 

He didn't even think as he bore down once more, putting his chin to his chest and spreading his legs. Another pop sounded from deep inside of him as something hard pressed past his cervix and into his pussy. 

“Hah!” He gasped as it opened him up. 

He pulled himself off of the door and dragged himself to his bedroom before another ache could ambush him. He leaned against his bed just as the pain returned. 

The sharp throb was so harsh that he couldn't even scream. His jaws separated, but no sound came out as tears spilled down his face. 

Whatever was inside of him spread out his hips and lips, coming down to his opening. As the pain end, Raphael reached into his jeans and his eyes popped open. 

Something hard was in between his legs, and it had hair.

His breath hastened and his heart practically beat out of his chest. He touched his belly, feeling that it was firm. At the same time, the baby's head started to slip back inside of him. 

A baby. 

He was having a baby. 

When did he get pregnant? How? Wasn't he supposed to be post menopausal by now? He was 52 years old for God's sake! It wasn't possible!

And yet, there was a head poking his pussy. A baby. His baby. 

Tears filled his eyes as he threw his head back into the mattress. How could he not have known? What if the baby came out messed up? He had drinks during the pregnancy. What if the baby was a preemie. Was he gonna have to rush himself and the baby to the hospital?

He sobbed as another contraction rushed through him. He screeched and pressed his chin to his chest, bringing his knees up. He bore down, feeling the head right behind his swollen labia. 

He gripped the comforter that hung over the side of the bed, pulling it down as he tried to push. His jeans weren't even undone, he still had on his work boots and his hard hat and he was covered in dirt. 

The baby’s head puffed out his labia, but didn't go any farther. Raphael opened his eyes, seeing the blood and fluids that he had tracked into the house. He had to get out of this stuff!

Quickly, he tore off his boots and threw them somewhere in the room, not caring if they put mud in his carpet. Trying to beat the next contraction, he ripped open the zipper of his pants and pushed them to his ankles. He tried to kick them off, but another rippling contraction pressed against him. 

“Ah-hah!” He cried. 

A little bit of fluid rushed past the head and into his soaked boxers, but the baby didn't budge. He panted, feeling his tight belly loosen again. 

He dragged the wet undergarments down his thighs and down to his ankles. The cool breeze felt so good against his clammy skin and burning pussy, but that feeling didn't last long. 

Another contraction ripped through him. He gripped the comforter and pushed with it, feeling the head slowly slip down. He could feel his inner labia stretching around the head, becoming thinned out. His t-dick started to be put under the pressure of his baby's skull. An odd mix of pain and the ache of his t-dick swirled in his hips.

Sweat poured down his temples as he gasped for air. Grasping at the sheets of his bed, he stopped to pant through the odd sensations. As soon as he stopped pushing, his labia slipped closer together, retrapping his baby inside of him. 

“Fuck…” He hissed, throwing back his head. 

He has already made so little progress, having it immediately erased was frustrating. However, he didn't get to be irritated for long. As he started to sigh, a contraction made his breath catch in his throat. 

He hiccuped loudly as the baby's head pressed against his narrow opening. Because of testosterone and his age, his body was no longer built to birth a baby. 

“Please! Get out!” He cried. 

Despite his efforts, his t-dick was in the way, being dragged out and in by the head of his unborn child. He didn't have the energy that he used to and his hips were square and shallow. His swollen clit was so sensitive that he could barely push. 

“Please! Somebody help me!” He screamed.

Somebody had to hear him. His next door neighbors, downstairs neighbors, anybody. He had to do something. If he couldn't birth this baby, he was in danger.

As the next contraction rearranged his guts, he lifted his foot and stamped on the floor as hard as he could. He heard his pussy squelching as he moved, trying to release his child. 

“Help me!” He cried.

He lifted his leg to stomp again as he pushed. As he did, fluid squirted from him across the room. His baby's head slipped and fell into his opening, spreading his lips apart in a teardrop shape. 

He gasped in surprise, feeling the slip. Without much of a thought, he laid down on his side and pressed his foot into the mattress to keep his leg up, opening his hips. 

“Please…” He whined. 

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly, feeling tears run down his face. He pushed as hard as he could. The baby pushed him apart, spreading him out farther than he had ever been before. 

His pussy burned with fury as the head filled him up, his right leg that he had on the bed trembled as he opened his mouth and screamed in pain. 

“HAAAA-AUUUGH!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, using all of his energy to push. 

Suddenly, more fluid burst from him and the head came halfway out of his sore pussy, still burning him. 

“Fuck!” He shouted. 

As quickly as he could, he turned over on his stomach, applying pressure to his constricting womb. The baby's head was pushed free down to the end of its neck. 

Raphael laid flat on the floor with his legs as wide as he could get them. He panted, feeling the baby rock in and out of his manhood with every breath that he took.

On a mission to be free of the pain, he lifted his chin off of the floor, and pressed his hands into the carpet. He pushed his stomach further into the ground, and the baby's shoulders popped out of him with a vengeance. The baby turned and fell out up to its hips. 

Raphael gritted his teeth and scooted forward. With a release of pressure that he had nearly gotten used to and a vast amount of fluids, the baby finally slipped out onto the floor. 

As soon as he heard the baby cry he turned himself around and scooped up the little girl, cradling her in his strong arms. 

She was the most beautiful, terrifying thing that he had ever seen. Curly black hair and almond brown skin. As she gurgled, he stuck his fingers down her throat and nose, pulling out any fluids that could choke the little girl. 

Her cries became clearer and she wriggled in his grasp. 

“You tell ‘em, mija. You tell 'em.” He whimpered, crying just as much as his daughter. 

Soon after, the baby started to calm down, getting used to him. She opened her big, golden brown eyes, looking up at him tearfully. 

He whimpered and smiled down at her. 

“Fuck. What am I gonna call you?” He asked aloud. 

“Catrina?”

She didn't look like a Catrina.

“Mialani?”

Nope.

“Isabela?”

The baby scrubbed her face as if she was disgusted, though she was probably just hungry. 

“Not too much, bebé. I'm trying.” He said. 

Then something clicked. Those eyes, they said everything. 

“Sonaé. Your name is Sonaé.” He declared to her. 

Then, he heard a slam and jumped, tightening his core, which hurt like hell after just giving birth.

Fuck. He forgot to lock the door. He looked down at his baby. They were vulnerable. Footsteps approached the bedroom, and since the door was open, he didn't have much time. 

Using all of the strength he had left, he used the bed to stand up, still attached to the baby that rested in his arms. He grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and outstretched his arm, ready to fight the intruder. 

Before he could act, he saw a familiar face. A tall and husky black man met his brown eyes with his golden ones, then he looked down at the baby, the umbilical cord, and the blood in the carpet. He was soaked from the rain. 

“Darryl called me. He-he said he saw blood on you. Are you okay? What happened?” He rambled. 

Raphael threw the scissors down. 

“Garrett…”

Garrett immediately ran to him as his legs gave out, the adrenaline fading from him. 

“Raph! Oh my God.” Garrett cried. 

He looked down at the baby again and back to Raphael 's pale face. 

“How?” He asked. 

Raphael shrugged. “I didn't think I could get pregnant.” He said. 

“Well, it's obvious now.” Garrett said, still staring at the baby. 

“Her name is Sonaé.” Raphael said. 

Garrett looked at her in silence. 

“She looks just like you.” He continued. 

“She does.” Garrett whispered, tears filling his eyes. 

He sniffed and swung Raphael's legs over his other arm, carrying him and their baby. He grabbed the blanket off of the bed and rushed them to his car. 

The boys weren't gonna believe this.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

ah yes my favourite divorced half-foot dad

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Don't mind me, just dropping pregnant Kenji Sato.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

[notnicodrawingstuff]

A world where in order for nobles to make their official debut into high society, they must bear a holy child from an angel, labor for a week in the cathedral basement, and give birth on an altar in their land. Their motto is "the harder the suffering, the stronger the child". In this case a prince gives birth to a holy child in his coronation as a crown prince, and to ensure his position, the queen forcefully strengthened his unborn by feeding him only holy water and blessed or something bread for the week he's been laboring in the cathedral

The Angel's Grace

18+ fiction, no minors allowed

Contains: Childbirth, urination, slight stuffing, ftm pregnancy (using afab terms for anatomy), labor, religious elements, graphic descriptions, tearing, difficult birth, fetal macrosomia, about 8.15k words.

Enjoy! ;)

.

.

.

Malachi looked at his watery hazel eyes in the mirror, trying to ignore the rest of his body. On one hand, this was what he needed to do to take his place as king of Osonia, on the other hand, he was terrified. Over the span of a year, his body would house the spawn of whatever angel set his eyes upon him. And that was if he was lucky. 

His mother, Celeste, ran her soft hand down his cheek and dusted off his shoulders carefully. He could see his own terror in the reflection of her crimson eyes, so he knew that she did as well. 

“My dear, your father and I went through the same thing and we came out all right. Your brothers are now soldiers in the God’s army, protecting our lands. Your child will do the same.” She said. 

Malachi looked away. “What if I am not strong enough?” He asked. 

Celeste inhaled sharply. “Do not even entertain such thoughts. You shall pull through this trial. All nobles must.” She replied. 

Malachi hesitated, and then, decided not to voice his next thought. 

“What if the angels find me to be unworthy?”

That could not happen. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“Do not entertain such thoughts.” He told himself, repeating his mother's words. 

“The altar awaits you, my darling.” Celeste said, interrupting the thoughts that he was certainly not entertaining. 

Shaking his head to dispel such things, Malachi pulled up the hood of his long white robe and began to walk towards the cathedral. 

“Remember darling, “the harder the suffering-”

“-the stronger the child.” Malachi replied, walking into the dark temple.

As he sauntered down the aisle, the nobles in white hoods turned to look at him and stood in his presence. 

On the front row was his younger sister, Hestia, who would be next to present after him. 

He could only hope to bring honor to her. 

When he approached the altar, Malachi bowed his head and the bishop hung her staff above his head. 

“People of Osonia, we have gathered today because our all-fulfilling heir, Malachi, has come of age.” She said. 

Malachi kept his head down, his ears burning as the bishop went on about him. 

“Knighted at 16, Prince Malachi of Osonia joined the war efforts and avenged his father, King Nicodemus after he was poisoned in his own castle.”

He closed his eyes, letting her voice drone until it became nothing to him. She continued on about his family, his deceased father and his accomplishments. Hearing everything back made him more anxious than ever. 

Was all of this truly enough to win the favor of an angel? If he was damned… would it hurt? Would his sister be able to move on from it? What would his family do if he wasn't there to bear the crown?

Finally, the bishop tapped her staff, filled with holy water, on his head. 

“Rise and remove your hood, my prince.” She commanded, her smile residing in her booming voice. 

Malachi did as he was told, slowly pulling himself to his feet. He removed the hood, letting his sandy brown curls fall loose around his shoulders. He felt the eyes of the Kingdom’s nobility resting on him, counting on him to win the heaven’s favor. 

He gritted his teeth and lifted his head. As he did, the sun shone upon the cathedral, lighting up red and purple stained glass portrait of the archangel Michael.

The fractals formed a magenta light that beamed over Malachi, touching him, warming him. 

“Be not afraid, for you are chosen.” 

The voice was one and many at the same time, filling his ears with a gentle purity that couldn't be recreated. The fusions of man and woman, adult and child, many and few. Heavenly. 

He felt heat in his womb, as the mark of an angel was pressed upon his skin. Warmth slowly crept through his body as the light bathed him. He gasped and tears filled his eyes. He collapsed to his knees, breathless as the light began to fade. His womb clenched. 

“Oh!” He cried out, his outburst echoing through the church. 

As if he were punched in the chest, a large sum of air rapidly escaped him as his whole body seized with his womb and then released. 

“Congratulations my prince! You will bring honor to your family and to your kingdom!” The bishop cheered. 

Malachi hardly heard her, gasping for air as he came untouched, falling apart in front of his subjects. A large wet spot formed on the bottom of his robe, soaking into his skin. 

“Stand.” She commanded. 

Malachi's legs shook through his orgasm. He put his hands down onto the floor and pushed himself up on all fours. The bishop hooked her arm under his chest and helped him to his feet. 

She turned him towards the crowd. The prince could barely see through tears of pain and pleasure. He didn't know that he could ever feel like this, that something so strange could feel so good. 

He couldn't even move to open his robe, his whole body tremored from the touch of Michael. The bishop quickly unzipped his garment to his hips, just enough to reveal the new, burning marking atop his womb. A bright red dragon, curling into himself as his body tried to force him to. 

“Our crown prince, blessed by the archangel Michael!” The bishop announced. 

The crowd of nobles stood, clapped and cheered in excitement. Michael, the ruler of all angels, was a rare father. Clearly, his child would be strong. 

And his suffering great. 

~~~

Malachi tried to curl up in his bed, but his large, distended abdomen didn't even allow his hands to touch. He felt like a beached whale, stuck in his bed while being poked, prodded and hand fed. 

Three hundred and seventy-seven days had passed since the archangel Michael had blessed him with his child. He should have given birth and presented his child to the heavens, taking his place as king of Osonia. 

But there was nothing. Almost two weeks past due and there was nothing! Malachi thought to roll over on his side, but he knew that he couldn't. His child was too large for him to do much of anything, even sleeping. 

As he thought of his predicament, the child kicked his bladder, turning his stupor into haste. As quickly as he could, he reached to grab the head of his bed and slowly pulled himself up. 

“Tabitha!” He cried. 

In an instant, a maid ran into the room, no questions asked. She grabbed the bedpan and pushed it under him. Now that he was so large, he couldn't truly wear panties, so he was completely naked under his nightgown. 

He reached for the hem of his dress, but his belly blocked his way. He could feel a burn from below, if he didn't get the gown up now, he was going to wet himself. He tried to bend down, but it only put more pressure on his bladder. A short spirt of piss soaked into his gown.

“Shit!” He cursed. 

Luckily, Tabitha noticed his struggle, ripped his gown up over his huge burden, and held it under his breasts. And not a second later, the dam burst. His meaty lips opened and released.

“Hoh!” Malachi gasped.

Towards the end of his pregnancy, he had become so needy. Even urinating was orgasmic. He felt disgusting, opening his legs for anything, but he couldn't help it. His body was raging. 

After his bladder was empty, Tabitha took the bedpan and emptied it into the chamber pot. Now that Malachi was sitting up, the weight of his load pressed his back inwards. He rested his hands on his hips and stretched, trying to rid himself of the pain. 

“You should rest, your highness; that baby could come any day now.” Tabitha said as she washed her hands. 

“It does not seem like it. This child ails me.” He said. 

The faucet turned off and Tabitha reentered the room, drying her hands with a towel. 

“Do not speak of such things. This child is a blessing from the heavens. The God must be taking his time with them.” She scolded.  

Malachi rubbed circles with his thumbs into the small of his back. “Truly.” He replied sarcastically. 

Tabitha smiled softly, then she turned and put the towel away. “Do not fret, your highness; this will all be over soon.” She said. 

“I hope that you are right.” Malachi groaned. 

“Is there anything else that you need, sir?”Tabitha asked. 

“No thanks, Tabi. I'm alright.” He said. 

His maid nodded. “Good, then I will leave. Get some rest, your highness.” 

“I will try.” Malachi replied. 

“Hm.” Tabitha hummed with a smile as she closed the door behind her.

Now, Malachi was alone again, somewhat. Tabitha was in the adjoining room so that she could hear his every call. Now that he was so heavily pregnant, he needed someone to watch over him and make sure that he got to the cathedral on time once he did finally go into labor.

Whenever that happens…

He sighed deeply and pulled his gown back down His belly had dropped late last week, so he was finally able to breathe again. On one hand, it was a relief, on the other, it meant that he was close to giving birth, he just didn't know when. Other than that, his ribs seemed to be his child’s favorite plaything, next to his poor bladder of course. 

His baby shifted, casually sitting on his stomach, making him groan in discomfort. 

“You're running out of room, child. Why don't you just come into this world already so that we can both be at peace?” He questioned aloud. 

Of course, he was given no response, other than his stomach lurching under the baby. He gagged and groaned from the unpleasant sensation. He just wanted this to be over soon. 

Finally, his child shifted again and sat lower in his hips. He could feel them pressing downwards and the pressure was great.

“Hooh.” He breathed, holding his giant roundness. 

His clitoris burned with desire and his vagina pulsed. 

“Not now, I can't-”

His baby pressed down lower, sending his hips careening downwards. His swollen clit was pressed between his bed and his belly, rubbing against his soft, cotton nightgown. 

He felt so hungry, so untouched. He had spent so much time lounging, awake because of his belly that his body seemed to be taking care of his arousal for him. He couldn't have that.

Carefully, he turned around, facing the headboard. His fattened clit burned at every movement, crying to be touched. He pulled his nightgown down over it and grabbed the fluffiest pillow on his bed.

Quickly, he puffed it more, pressing it into a fine hump. Perfect.

He lifted his hips as much as he could and slid it under him. When he sat, his clit pressed against the nightgown. He threw his head back and rolled his eyes as he straddled the pillow. 

Slowly, he rocked his hips back and forth, letting the cloth rub softly against him. He gripped the pillow tightly and pushed his pussy into it.

“Ah…hah-” He cried. 

It had been so long since he had even had the thought to touch himself, much less had the energy. Now, he was lost in the rhythmic sway of his own hips, the pillow’s soft give and the nightgown rubbing his clit. 

After barely any time, he came and cried out, hoping that Tabitha would ignore him. 

When his womb clenched, he thought that it was just another orgasm, until it clenched again. 

Malachi fell forward onto his pillows, clutching his ailing stomach.

“No, not now. Not now!” He whimpered.

After a moment, it finally stopped and he sighed in relief. Maybe he had overdone it. He had been having Braxton Hicks for the past week, but he was still disappointed that they had interrupted his fun. He should probably wait until after the baby was born to entertain himself. Clearly his body could handle i-

He winced and leaned against the headboard as another contraction pierced through him. He could feel his cervix clenching, trying to open him up. His baby's head sat low in his hips, practically leaving them ajar.

He had had small contractions before, but these were different. He felt as if his womb was being ripped out of him while he was still alive. His back arched in and cramped as well, making his heart race from the pain. 

Malachi gasped, holding onto the head of the bed. He felt something thick dribble from inside of him. He took a deep breath and pulled up his nightgown. When he looked down at the pillow he was jumping, he saw a thick, slightly bloody, yellow liquid.

“Gross.” He hissed.

He gritted his teeth and whined as another contraction set in. Now, they became even more excruciating, whatever that was must have been cushioning his cervix. Now there was nothing between him and the baby other than the amniotic sack. 

“Hooh! Tabitha!” He cried. 

He heard nothing at first. He dove down as his back arched and his next contraction overtook him. He gripped the headboard for dear life as he gathered the breath to scream again. 

“TABITHA!” 

Suddenly, the curly blonde maid burst into the room. 

“Mal- Oh my goodness!” She squeaked. 

Malachi felt his entire body heat up as his last contraction gave one last kick.

“Help me!” He cried. 

“Right. Hang on, my prince!” Tabitha cried. 

Hardly any sooner, the servants came to pick him up. Quickly and quietly, he was whisked off to the cathedral in the center of the town. He held onto the window sill of the carriage for dear life. Every bump and rock made him feel like he was going to break apart. If only this baby would come quickly. 

But he knew that wasn't possible. 

Day 1:

Malachi wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he woke up to darkness with only small beams of light breaking through the tiny basement window. 

His pussy wept, tired and sore from all of his contractions over the night. He lay in a hooded robe just as he did over a year ago when he was blessed by Michael. Soon, he’d birth his child on the very same altar. Still, soon wasn't soon enough. How was he supposed to press down his baby after a week straight of this? 

“Here, drink this.”

Malachi didn't think twice about it. His throat was dry and he felt like he was breathing through a straw. The water bubbled in his mouth and seemed to sizzle on the way down, but anything was a relief at this point. 

“Good. That's it.” 

His mother's voice soothed his ears and suddenly, he felt safe again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” She asked, pressing the back of her hand against his damp forehead. 

“Tired.” Malachi said. 

“Aww. I’m sorry, my dear. It will be over soon. The week will pass by quickly.” She said.

Malachi swallowed thickly as another contraction ran through him, cramping his back. 

“Ngh…”

Searching for comfort, he rested his head on his mother's bosom and held her tightly as his womb cried out in desperation to push out this baby. He held onto her long after the contraction ended. 

“Can I have something for the pain, mummy?” He asked. 

Gently, Celeste ran her fingers through his curly sandy brown hair. 

“I'm sorry, my dear; it's not possible.” She said. 

Malachi frowned and pulled away from her enough to look her in the eyes. “What do you mean “it's not possible”?” He demanded to know. 

“Well, the harder the suffering, the stronger the child.” She recited. 

Malachi was in disbelief. “We still take that so literally? Why?” He asked.

“My mother let my pain run its course and your brother became an unbeatable soldier because of it. Every noble goes through pain to honor the heavens. It's just the deal.” She explained, though her eyes sank with sadness.

“I'm sorry, my love.”

Still, with no one else to hold him, Malachi cried into her as the next contraction overtook him. 

Day 2:

“Eat this.”

Celeste broke off the bread and drowned it in honey, pressing it into her son's mouth. Malachi took it hungrily. After all this time, he had only dilated 1 centimeter. Sure, the day wasn't over, but he was just so tired. When will the week be over? 

“Hey, I know that walking may not hurry the process, but it might make you feel better.” Celeste suggested. 

~~~

Malachi wasn't allowed outside of the cathedral until after the birth of his baby, but the sanctuary was large enough to get lost in. He looked out at the stained glass windows wistfully. The setting sun poked its head in, giving him a taste of the warmth that he longed for. 

He held up his belly, waddling as he walked next to his mother. 

“I told Lady Ferguson that she should have raised a more honorable child if she wanted the blessings of an archangel for her family.” She said.

“Hooh. That's nice, mama.” He said, half listening as they circled the pews once more. 

“In fact, there were no angels involved at all. Her daughter barely labored for a day! Of course, she got all huffy when I mentioned that, but that is not my problem.” She continued. 

Then, Celeste broke off a piece of bread and handed him a goblet. “Here, have this.”

“I'm not hungry, mama.” He protested. 

“Eat. You and your child will need strength for your big day.” She said.

Malachi bit his lips into his mouth as he took the bread and goblet. His mother was acting odd, watching everything that he consumed. It seemed that every half hour, she was at his side with bread, honey, grape juice or water. She just never stopped. 

“Thank you.” He said through his teeth. 

Even if he didn't want anything now, he had to appear polite, she was his mother after all. 

Surprisingly, when he ate everything, he still felt hungry. It was like his stomach was bottomless, and his mother seemed eager to find his limit. 

Day 3: 

Malachi laid on his back on the bed in the basement. His big belly torpedoed towards the ceiling. Inside, his child rolled around like a gymnast, treating his body like a playground. 

“Ugh…”

Malachi reached to touch his burden, in hopes of soothing the baby, but his hand came to a stop halfway up his belly.

He was getting bigger. In just a few days he was growing. Why? How? Maybe because the child was a nephilim it was having one last growth spurt before birth. Maybe this was how his suffering increased, a sign that his baby would be strong. 

His arm plopped down next to him in retreat. Three days in and he was already sick of it. His only saving grace was that the contractions were inconsistent. Sometimes, he couldn't even bear to speak, other times, he was waddling around, longing for the outside world. 

As a cramp reached and cupped his womb, he realized that today might be the former. 

He tried to roll onto his side, but he was too heavy to curl up. He was stuck in his back, vulnerable, exposed. 

“Augh!” He whimpered as his belly constricted against him. 

He felt a burn from deep inside of him as his cervix began to give once more. It hurt like hell. Apologies to The God, but it did. He reached up to touch his ailing stomach again, feeling every ripple run through him. 

He panted through it, resisting the urge to push. If he pushed now, he would surely perish. His cervix was still too tight, his baby wasn't ready. He had to hold on. 

Quickly, he clutched the sheets of his bed, gripping them with all of the might that he would have used to push. He gritted his teeth to keep from cursing. The God wouldn't appreciate such things in his own house. 

“Hah!” He gasped as a rush of pain entered his body. The baby pressed low against his cervix, blocking him up. He felt like he was trapped with a monster inside of him. Truly, his baby was a monster, not fully human. 

Finally, the pain stopped just long enough for him to roll over and curl up on his side. 

Day 4: 

Five centimeters. Four days and he was only dilated five centimeters. His contractions from the day before had kept him up the entire night. Now, he lay on his back again, legs open.

At this point, he was completely naked, but it was still sweltering. His long set of curls clung to his head and neck, soaked with sweat. Everytime he breathed, he felt it in his nethers. It was as if his pussy was suffocating, blocked by his undoubtedly large child. 

Crusted tears covered his sweaty face and the pillow, he gasped as the contractions ripped through him again and again. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Suddenly, beams of light fell into the basement as the door was opened. Light footsteps made their way down the stairs. Malachi didn't have the strength to turn his head at the moment, but he had a guess of who it was. 

“How are you, darling?” His mother asked.

Malachi swallowed thickly and started to speak, but another cramp squeezed his womb. He jumped, putting his chin to his chest as he gritted his teeth in agony, wrenching his eyes shut. 

“Oh!” He gasped as if finally ended, falling back against the fluffy pillows. His cervix burned with effort, trying to keep his child’s head in. Now, he almost wished that a doctor would just cut him open and pull the baby out. 

“I can't do this anymore.” He thought aloud. 

“Yes you can. I know that it's hard now, but you are my son. Large, healthy babies are in our blood. Even you were eleven pounds, my dear.” Celeste encouraged.

Malachi rolled his eyes over towards her, sight blurred by tears. 

“How does that help me? From what I feel and hear, this child will rip me apart.” He hissed bitterly.

“Not if you both have the strength to get through the birth.” She said. 

“Mother…” He groaned.

“Not now, child.” She turned to the servant behind her and took a large platter from his hands. “You must eat.” She said.

The platter was full of entire loaves of honey covered bread, and had a goblet and a bottle, one of grape juice and one of water. At the bottle of water, Malachi squinted suspiciously.

A cross wrapped around the cork and the liquid fizzed and rolled towards the top of the bottle. It shone in the few beams of light, nearly blinding his eyes as they shot open in shock. 

Without a second thought, he jumped out of the bed and backed away. 

“Holy water!” He cried. 

Celeste looked up on him silently. 

“You’ve been giving me holy water!” He cried. 

“Yes.” She said.

“How could I be so foolish? Even an angel’s child would not grow so fast. The bread is part of this too! Is it blessed?” He fussed. 

Celeste didn't answer, instead, she changed the subject. “You must eat.” She said.

“I refuse! How could you do this to me, mama?” He cried. 

Hearing the budding argument, servants started down the stairs, gathering in a triangle formation behind his mother. 

“Seize him.” She commanded. 

“No! Don't!”

Two servants rushed towards him and grabbed his arms, pinning him to the wall. Malachi cried out as his back hit the stones.

“Stop this! I am your king!” He screeched, fighting against his captors. 

Celeste shook her head. “Until you give birth, I am still the queen and your mother. You are powerless here.” She said. 

“No…” He moaned.

At the worst time possible, another contraction rocked him. He could feel his cervix bulging under the sheer force of the baby's head. His legs shook and he dropped to his knees. 

“Hold him down.”

Two other servants pressed down on his shoulder, pushing him to the floor. With all of the agony inside of his body, Malachi could do nothing to fight back. 

As the servants held him in a place, he felt a pop from deep inside of him. He gasped and lifted his head. His waters rushed from his vagina, soaking the floor below him and his bruising knees. 

“Wonderful! Now, the real challenge begins.” Celeste exclaimed. 

Then, she snapped her fingers. “You there!”

Another servant stepped forward and took the platter. She approached Malachi with a piece of honeyed bread in her hand. It was forced into his mouth mid-cry. As the contractions tore him apart, all he could do was chew and swallow as the servant girl fed him the entire platter in minutes. 

Day 5:

He knew that if he tried to push, that he would only hurt himself, but the urge was overwhelming him. 

Now, chained to the bed, he couldn't do anything except roll onto his sides and back. Servants had come in hour after hour with bread, holy water and grape juice. 

He looked up at the ceiling, alone in the dark, waiting for the next platter that would be forced down his throat. 

He felt lucky to be covered by a blanket when beams of light brightened the basement once more. At least some of his dignity would be preserved. 

“Mal?” A soft voice wondered.

Malachi immediately recognized his little sister. Hestia entered the room, looking around. The basement stank of birthing fluids and sweat, Malachi's hair was loose around his head and was beginning to mat.His belly trembled whether he was contracting on not and his eyes had giant bags underneath them.

“You look terrible.” Hestia gasped. He half expected her to tease him, so when she didn't Malachi just felt hopeless. 

“So do you.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you cut your own hair again?”

Quickly, Hestia reached up to her chocolate brown curls. “What? Is it uneven?” She asked.

“Very.” Malachi lied. “You must leave your crown alone. We have people for this.” He teased. 

Hestia rolled her eyes. “Have those people simply left you behind?” She asked. 

Malachi shrugged. “Maybe.”

Then, Hestia glanced at his wrists.

“Why are you chained?” She asked. 

“They got tired of seeing me.” Malachi joked.

Hestia frowned. “Brother, this is serious. What are they doing to you down here!” She asked. 

For the first time in his life (at least, he thought so), Malachi looked upon her fondly. 

“Things that I will not let you go through when it is your time.” He said.

Hestia stayed with him, holding his hand as he contracted until she had to sneak back into the palace. 

Day 6:

9 centimeters. Soon, he could push and this entire ordeal would be over with. Now, he just wanted to stop being in pain. He was lucky that he was restrained. The kingdom was lucky.

Malachi was red faced with anger and pain as he was fed more. Now, wine has been added to the repertoire, keeping him somewhat sedated. 

Even in his drunken mind, he was still aware of what was happening, but all that he could do was lay back and let it continue.

Without the amniotic sack cushioning his child’s head, his cervix burned, bent and stretched with every movement either of the two made. It was agonizing. How any nobles before survived this ritual he would never know. 

He didn't have the power or strength yet to punish his torturers, but he would soon.

When he was king.

Day 7: 

Malachi’s eyes rolled back in his head from the pain. He was miserable and fully dilated. If he could just push, then it would be over. Fuck the ceremony.

He lifted his head as much as he could and bore down. The head pressed against his cervix and pain rushed through his body. His belly trembled and shook with effort, but nothing moved. 

He gasped for air as he finally let go. He was in the exact same position as he had been two hours ago. Ever since he had awoken, he had been pushing when there was no one around, but nothing came of it. His baby was too large, too heavy and he was laying flat on his back with no momentum to carry the child down. 

He lay in the bed, tired and sweaty, but never hungry, Celeste made sure of it. He rubbed the sides of his full belly, hoping to soothe himself.

“It's okay, love. This'll be over soon and we can get out of here, just bear with me.” He said softly.

As he rubbed his belly, another contraction rolled through him. He gritted his teeth and pushed. The baby’s head pressed forward, but was stopped by his cervix, instead hanging low in his womb. 

He knew that Nephilims were big, but his child felt gigantic. Like a huge boulder rolling over his sensitive cervix. He had no idea how he was gonna get this baby out.

But he had to try. 

Stretching as much as he could in the chains, Malachi pulled his knees back and held his aching load. He gritted his teeth and put his chin to his chest as he pushed. 

The only thing that he felt enter his empty pussy was the cool draft and more of his waters. He flopped back down in agony, resting his arms by his sides. His baby stayed stubbornly inside of him. 

“Are you pushing?”

Malachi nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard his mother's voice. He whipped his head around towards her and she stared at him in a mix of shock and annoyance.

“Mama…” Malachi panted breathlessly. 

Celeste narrowed her eyes. “It's too late at night, dear. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning; when we can gather all of the nobles.”

“You're lying.” Malachi spat. 

Celeste shook her head. “I am not. I know it is always dark in this basement, but if it were daytime, we would get the ceremony started.” She said. 

“You just want me to suffer. That's why you fed me all of that. You wanted to fatten me up.” He accused. 

Celeste’s expression saddened. “I only need your baby to be stronger.” She said.

“Even if it kills me?” He shuddered. “Shouldn't Michael's blessing be enough?”

Celeste was silent for a moment. “We are losing the war without you. Our Nephilims need all the help that we can get.” She said. 

“If I weren't incapacitated, I could be fighting with the-” A cramp ran through his womb and he clenched, trying to ride through the pain. 

As his vision darkened from the agony, two servants walked in behind her, holding a golden chastity belt. 

“There are rules that we have to follow, my son. The blessing ceremonies are one of them.” She said.

He shook his head, eyes filling with tears. “No. You wouldn't!” He cried. 

“I'm sorry.” 

Celeste stepped back and the servants approached him. One held his legs open as the other began to fasten the belt. 

“Please! Don't do this to me!” He pleaded. “I have to give birth. It hurts!” 

Instead of comforting him or answering his cries, Celeste turned and walked up the stairs, leaving him alone in the darkness.

~~~

Malachi was awake and aware the entire night, plagued by contractions and back pain. Despite pushing, even though the belt stopped at his lips, his child hadn't moved an inch. He felt suffocated, forced to hold off his birth from the outside and plugged by his child from the inside. 

Shakily, he reached up and rubbed his belly, trying to reassure himself and his massive baby. Feeling his hand from above, the baby kicked his palm. Despite the pain, Malachi couldn't help but feel relieved. 

Until a group of servants stamped down the stairs, eyes fixed on him. They came empty handed, no food or drink. As Malachi tried to grasp their reason for being here, a male guard began to unlock the chains around his hands. 

Immediately, Malachi tried to curl up and hold his belly as it contracted again, but it was simply too large. All that he could do was lay on his back as fluids spilled from his pussy. 

Just as quickly, the guard undid the chains on his ankles. If only Malachi could run, escape this cathedral and evict his child on his own. Alone and in peace. Despite his wishes, he was much too heavy, he knew that the day had come, the ceremony was upon him. 

“My prince, you must stand.” A servant whispered.

Malachi shook his head. “I can't. My baby is too heavy. I can't.” He said. 

“Please, my prince. It will be even more painful if we have to force you.” Another servant pleaded.

“Did you not understand me? I am in great pain. I cannot move!” He shouted. 

A heavy silence fell upon the servants like a mist, as the oldest maid nodded at the guard. He held Malachi under the small of his back and slowly lifted him up to sit. Just moving, and not even on his own, triggered another painful contraption. The searing pain screamed its way through his womb, forcing him to curl as much as he could. 

“HAH-” He cried, tears welling up in his eyes. He leaned back against the wall for support, lifting his head to the heavens. 

“My angel! Why must I endure such agony?” he sobbed. Despite his cries, there was no answer. The guard took his hand and pulled him off of the bed. 

Malachi's legs shook under the sheer weight of his immense gourd of a belly. He felt fluids rush towards his cervix, but they were blocked by his child’s large head, plugging him up. 

Even though he felt weak, he did not fall. He couldn't. Even if he had to do it in front of all the adult nobles in the kingdom, he had to give birth. He had to persevere. He was going to make it. 

Every time that he stepped forward, he could feel gravity pressing down on his baby, ramming them into his sensitive cervix. He gritted his teeth and with the support of the servants, he forced himself up the stairs. 

~~~

As quickly as they could, the servants bathed him, braided his hair and adorned him in the white robe that he had once worn. 

Each second that passed was agony. Still squeezed into the chastity belt, his only desire was to push. Truly, that wasn't what was stopping him. 

Even though he was fully dilated, his baby was a unit of a nephilim. Each time he pushed, he only felt them run into his cervix and force it just slightly further apart. 

He hadn't seen Celeste at all today. He couldn't put much thought into it through his pain, but he hoped that his mother was ashamed of what she had done to him. Honestly, he hoped that he would never see her again. 

But he knew that was too good to be true. 

Every contraction made him feel as if he would burst. His baby had nowhere to go but out, but he was starting to wonder if they were too big. What if he couldn't push them out? Would they cut him open in front of the entire court? Would they even bother sewing him up?

As a servant gently pulled his hood over his head, a single, fat tear fell from his right eye. 

Two guards stood at his side, holding his hands while another walked behind him in case he fainted. No one spoke to him, the guards simply started walking and he had to force himself to keep up. 

With every step, the baby pressed into his cervix. He tried to put his head down and close his eyes, but the guard on his left lifted his chin, forcing him to look forwards as the doors to the cathedral were opened for their display. 

Immediately, every noble in the pews jumped to their feet. All of the eyes in the room were on him as he limped down the aisle. His mother was the first face that he recognized, standing at the very front. Even though she had hurt him, she was the first person that he looked to for comfort.

As soon as they made eye contact, he ripped his head away, wincing in pain as his tummy tightened up again. The guards ignored it and kept walking. Malachi squeezed their hands, trying to keep himself upright. 

It seemed as if they would never reach the altar. Overcome by pain, Malachi fell into a deep squat and tried his hardest to push. With a pop, fluids began to puddle at his feet, but the baby's head remained largely unmoved. The guards stopped until they noticed him stop pushing. Malachi desperately wanted to stay in one spot and push again, but the guards silently pulled him along, forcing him to give up his footing. 

As they walked down the aisle, Malachi's ears caught onto whispers and chatter throughout the crowd. 

“I’ve never seen one this big!” A woman hissed.

“Do you think that he will make it?” A man asked. 

“I wonder how much the child will weigh.” A man thought aloud. 

“It's probably just water weight.” A woman replied. 

“How much do you want to bet that the child will be over twelve pounds?” A man asked.

“Two hundred. I have a good feeling about this.” A woman wagered. 

Malachi shook his head, trying to ignore the chatter, but the insults, questions, and comments just kept coming and coming. They invaded his ears, and when he tried to shut them out, he was only met with the intense pain that his baby caused him. 

“Almost there. Almost there.” He muttered to himself as his belly tightened once more. 

Ignoring him, the guards walked him up the stairs to the grinning bishop, who grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face the crowd as the guards left the stage in either direction. 

“My fellow countrymen! We gather here today for the birth of Prince Malachi’s first child, a nephilim sent by the angel Michael.” She announced.

Politely, the crowd began their round of applause. Malachi caught sight of his mother, standing silently in the midst of the nobles. Pained, he looked away, gritting his teeth as the bishop continued her speech. 

“Our kingdom has been blessed by something truly special. The archangels rarely participate in our ceremonies, so this may be a once in a lifetime birth.” She said. Then, she shook Malachi’s shoulders and grinned at him. 

“Make sure to savor every moment.”

Malachi eyed her with utter disdain, but she completely ignored him. She continued by unzipping his long white robe, revealing his gigantic belly to the kingdom. 

The nobles gasped and gawked at the sheer size of him. His belly was high in his chest and sank well past his hips, round and firm. He was covered by deep, a dry, red stretch marks that matched the bright red dragon that had spread across his womb, completely covering his belly. 

The bishop took a jingling key out of the pocket of her robe and carefully lifted his belly. Taking the key, she unlocked his chastity belt and let it fall to his feet. Unreleased fluids spilled into the floor below them.

“She took her hand from him and turned towards the crowd. “You may be seated.” She said. 

Then, she turned to Malachi with her shiny white grin. “Good luck, my prince.” Was all the support that she had to offer. 

As soon as she released him, Malachi fell to his knees, gripping his ailing belly.

“Oh God. Oh my God!” He cried as the pain set in again. 

Now, he could push for real, no more rules, no more restrictions. All that he had to do was give the people a show. 

He stretched his arms over the sides of his belly, stopping before he could even reach its wide peak. He gritted his teeth and rubbed it as he put his chin to his chest and bore down as hard as he could.

He could feel his cervix ballooning out, taking on the shape of the child’s head. He pushed harder, feeling his head swim. He clamped his eyes shut and continued, trying not to faint. 

As soon as the contraction ended, the baby snapped back into his cervix like he hadn't done a thing. All of his efforts were nothing. He gasped for air and popped his eyes open, looking at the swirling patterns of light that the stained glass windows made on the ceiling. His hood fell off of his head, revealing his long curls. 

Carefully, he spread his knees apart and lowered his hips. The next contraction hit him hard and fast, ripping his mouth open so that he could scream. His cry of agony echoed through the large cathedral. He barely had the mind to push through the pain. 

His baby's head stretched his cervix out once more, pressing forwards.

“UUUUGGH-AURGGHH!” He screeched, bearing down once more.

This time, his baby's head stayed stuck in his cervix, pushing it outwards into his waiting birth canal. 

“HOOH! HOOH!” Malachi cried, gasping for air through quick pants. 

After all this time, his baby had barely moved. His head felt heavy and hot as he tried to keep his eyes open. He had to do something. He brought his hands down on top of his belly and pushed down with the next contraction. 

At this point, all of his cries had become screams of anguish. He could barely hear himself any more. Still, he kept pushing, adding more pressure with his hands. 

Finally, with a loud pop, the baby was completely lodged into his cervix, just speaking into his birth canal. Malachi sighed in relief. Now, he was making progress; however, the relief didn't last for long. 

Another, large contraction caused him to fall forward, forcing him on his hands and knees. His body was starting to panic with such a large baby stuck inside of him. All of his instincts were screaming at him to push as hard as he could. 

“AUGHH!” He screamed into the otherwise silent cathedral. 

His belly ached apoplectically. Forcing him to cry out and bear down. His vocal cords scratched against each other, causing his belly to lurch. He dry heaved so hard that his belly nearly flattened against his body. 

With a loud pop, the baby's head was out of his wounded cervix. Finally opening his birth canal. His soaked pussy seemed to yawn around the child’s head, getting ready for it to pass through. 

As another contraction rippled through him, he gave it all of his attention, until he caught something out of the corner of his eye. 

He whipped his head towards the slow moving figure. The bishop had moved from her prime seat and was approaching him. 

“The crowd can't see.” She said, arms reaching out.

His big belly was stuck to the ground, blocking any view of his open pussy. As soon as those words left her lips, Malachi was filled with rage.

“Hrrggh!” He grunted as he pushed. Fluids spilled from his pussy and onto his feet under him. He ignored it, focusing his eyes on the bishop as he kept pushing. 

“Touch me and- *huff* and I'll fucking kill yooouuuu! He screeched angrily. 

“Ooh!” The crowd gasped at his foul mouth, but Malachi didn't care. He didn't care if the crowd saw a single drop ounce of the baby! He wasn't going to be moved by some bystander, not again. 

The bishop quickly pulled her hands back to her sides and rushed to sit down. Malachi turned his face back towards the floor, tears and sweat dripping onto the stage. 

“Hunnnghhh!” He grunted hoarsely, pushing again. 

He felt his baby’s head finally begin to stretch him out. He was so close. If he just pushed harder, he would soon be crowning. He arched his back upwards and curled into himself, spreading his knees further apart until he was almost laying on his belly. 

“Come on!” He groaned. 

The pressure inside of and outside of him was great. Fluids burst from him, propelling the baby's head down just a little bit. In front of the crowd, Malachi crudely reached inside of himself. He couldn't stretch far enough to even feel the baby's head. It was still just past his cervix. 

Malachi cried out in despair, feeling discouraged. How was he ever going to give birth like this? The whispers of the crowd reached his ears again.

“What is he doing? Why isn't he pushing?” A woman said. 

“Cursing in the house of our God. How uncouth!” An old man fussed. 

“His baby's not getting out like this.” Another man grunted. 

Suddenly, it was like a lightbulb had lit up above his head. Of course his baby wasn't getting out like this, he was practically laying down again, just like he had for days in the basement. If he wanted to break his child free, he had to use gravity to help him. But how?

Malachi glanced up and his eyes locked onto the altar. That was it! If he could just pull himself up, he could squat and birth against it. 

Without a word, Malachi crawled towards the altar and pressed his hand against the marble. Slowly, he climbed up the surface, stretching one arm up to the top and using the other to scale it. 

He could feel every noble's eyes on him as he mounted the altar. His back curved inwards as another contraction rolled through him, but this time he was ready. 

Bending his knees, he held onto the start with both hands and shifted to turn his back to the crowd. As long as he could give birth, they could have their little show. He just hoped that it would work. 

He pushed himself into a low squat and bore down. Fluids spilled from him. He arched his feet upwards, deepening his squat as much as he could. Once he was in position, he quickly got rid of his ruined rove, throwing it off to the side. He gritted his teeth and grunted hoarsely, having no energy left to scream and cry. 

Suddenly, the baby's head burst free from his pussy like a battering ram. The puddle below him quickly became polluted with his own blood as he forced himself to continue pushing. His head swam and his fingers trembled weakly. Quickly, he closed his eyes, trying to keep himself lucid. 

He arched his back inwards and pushed. The tear in his pussy let his baby drop more easily, though it burned with distress every time that the baby pressed against it. 

Tears spilled from his eyes as he panted. The baby's left shoulder ejaculated from him and then the right. At this point, Malachi felt sick to his stomach and close to fainting. He flattened his feet and bent his knees completely, getting his baby closer to the floor. 

With the last of his strength, he shook his hips and the baby soon erupted from his battered pussy. As soon as they hit the floor, they began to wail.

Coming to their rescue, Malachi dropped and scooped the child, a baby girl into his arms, ignoring the growing puddle of blood under him. 

She was the biggest, chunkiest baby that he had ever seen and genuinely felt weighty in his arms. He looked into her gleaming grey eyes as she settled into his arms. 

The crowd cheered and flower petals rained from the highest pews. Despite all of the possible distractions, Malachi was completely enamored by his baby daughter. 

“Grace. Your name is Grace.” He whispered to her. 

“She will carry your legacy well.” A set of layed voices said.

Malachi looked up to see a beam of white light shining through the stained glass windows.

“Us angels brought you these children as gifts, but humans soon turned this into a vain competition. Our God has plans for you and Grace. Do not fail us.” 

Then, the white light faded, becoming red like the window that it came from.achi looked up in awe as the bishop took his baby and announced her to the kingdom. 

Grace of Osonia, born at 22 pounds and 8 ounces, overseer of the gifts. 

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Masterlist

Crowning on Camera

you are a porn actor hoping to shoot your last kink video before you go on leave to give birth. unfortunately, your baby comes much sooner than you expected. (1815 words)

clothing birth, fast labour, second person POV

Halloween Special

Sidney tries to hide her labour during a Halloween party where no one even knows she’s pregnant… but this wasn’t the kind of Halloween scare she had in mind. (5309 words)

semi-public birth, drug mentions, alcohol mentions, third person POV

Giving Birth at Your Own Wedding

you’ve been able to hide your pregnancy from your conservative family until you’re already married, but what happens if you give birth at your own reception? (2206 words)

blurb, semi-public birth, second person POV

Am I Dreaming?

you wake up already in labour but you don’t remember being pregnant when you went to sleep. (1520 words)

blurb, slight clothing birth, solo labour, sudden/mysterious pregnancy, second person POV

Express, No Stops

Bree gets caught in her seatbelt on the bus and has no choice but to deliver into the bus driver’s arms. (1379 words)

blurb, public birth, birthing in (minor) restraints, third person POV

You Should’ve Skipped Class

you went to class even though you were already feeling pressure, now try to give birth without disrupting the lecture. (1050 words)

blurb, public birth, second person POV

You Should’ve Skipped Class (the remix)

you went to class even though you were already feeling pressure, now you’ve got to leave and get off campus before it’s too late. (1911 words)

blurb, public birth, clothing birth, fluff (kinda), outdoor birth, second person POV

Clearance: Everything Must Go

Paige and her girlfriend do some very last minute shopping for the baby. (802 words)

blurb, public birth, outdoor birth, third person POV

In a Rush

your wife facetimes you, already in labour, and she needs you to hurry home before she’ll start pushing. (2061 words)

blurb, (self) birth denial, fluff, second person POV

Too Late to Reschedule

a pregnant midwife goes to assist a client in labour, goes into labour herself, and tries desperately to hide her own labour until she can leave (5431 words)

(self) birth denial, slight clothing birth, third person POV

Swim at Your Own Risk [iyp cross-post]

Margot gets her money’s worth at the country club, using the luxury pool as an unexpected water birth tub. (4821 words)

public birth, slight clothing birth, outdoor birth, third person POV

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Birth Poll!

Kai is almost fully dilated and ready to push. He and Henry are asking you how he should give birth! As Kai struggles in his lavender bathrobe, bent over the sink, Henry puts the poll on screen.

Hurry! Kai's about to pop!

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Kai from "Money Shot" in labor with his second kid. The poll for this story is on @writing-nico vote on how he should give birth!

Ignore the anatomy, I can't draw from certain angles. 😅

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Lab Rat: Nine Weeks

Part one here; https://www.tumblr.com/writing-nico/748384877180813312/lab-rat?source=share

Contains: Rapid growth, hyper pregnancy?, Reoccurring characters, childbirth, genetic engineering, experimental medicine, anal birth, somewhat erotic birth, tearing, multiples about 5.7k words.

{A young man is chosen to test new technology that could potentially revolutionize childbirth. He is implanted with two fetuses and is told to take a pill for the next three days. Over the next nine weeks, he swells up with twins.}

.

.

.

Julian waited by his front door anxiously. Genesis had called him last week saying that they had something for him, but he still didn't know what it was. Despite being a little in the dark, he was kind of excited. After two long years, they were finally moving on with the trials. He was also kind of nervous since his last birth had been a bit… 

…unexpected?

Or rather, surprising- 

Even so, it was what got him paid. Maybe if he was lucky, they’d find something cool when they tested it on him. 

Just not too cool. He wanted to be there and tell the story himself afterwards. Plus now, he had three little ones to think of. 

Right now, his toddlers, Athena, Jason, and little Lucas were at the Genesis daycare while he waited for Anita, his nurse, to arrive.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and pulled off dead skin, watching the peephole of his door just in case. As he did, he heard the sound of a car puttering into his driveway. 

~~~

Having his body examined was uncomfortable at times, but it was necessary. 

Anita snapped her gloves off and threw them away. “Everything looks good. You're all set!” She exclaimed. “We can do another implantation in about two weeks.” She said.

“Does this mean that I finally get to test something?” He asked, pulling back on his clothes. 

Anita smiled. “You bet! We finished trial testing on this one about three years ago.” She said. “This little pill that we call “Kwiwan” can shorten a pregnancy to nine weeks!” 

Julian blinked rapidly. “Nine weeks?”

“Yeah, it's pretty interesting. Each trimester becomes three weeks, given that the fetus is noticed early enough.” She replied.

“And if it's not?” He asked.

“Then your pregnancy only lasts nine more weeks, speeding up the fetus's growth from where it was discovered.” She said. “We hope to use it to help those at higher risk carry to term.” 

Julian frowned curiously. “So why test it on me?” He asked. 

“We know that it works, we just want to see how it affects a normal pregnancy first, along with how it works with an artificial uterus like yours.” Anita explained. 

Contemplatively, Julian nodded. It seemed reasonable enough. He would look into the side effects before he took it, but it seemed interesting. 

The idea that pregnancy didn't have to drag was also a plus. 

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

~~~

Week 1:

His hips were a bit wider and his belly had an array of stretch marks where his babies had once grown, but Julian’s body had mostly gone back to normal after the triplets were born. He was back in the mirror again, looking at his fading scars. He wasn't as flat as he used to be, but under a shirt, no one could really tell. 

The two embryos had been thoroughly checked and tested for defects over the course of his two week waiting period, but he was still a little worried. Kwiwan would have drastic effects on all of them. They had even given him a salve to make his skin more elastic just in case his body couldn't keep up with the rapid growth. 

The idea of that scared him a bit. He wasn't as worried about himself, but he did have three kids already, and now, two more on the way. (Hopefully with no surprise twins this time) He wanted to be there for them.

The tiny white pill rested in his hand. This thing would change everything. Lifting the glass of water, he popped it in his mouth and took a swig. 

Week 2:

Having morning sickness again was not for the weak. He wiped his mouth with a tissue and flushed the toilet, not daring to look at the contents. 

Genesis was monitoring him closely, searching for any reason that they needed to end the trial. Luckily for Julian, everything was going well so far. The twins had progressed to the size of 8 weeks already. He could hardly believe his eyes. They were barely bigger than his first set when he first saw them, but all of this had only happened in two weeks.

As he washed his hands, the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps rang in his ears. He turned to see Athena, holding her teddy bear and sucking her thumb. 

“Hey, what are you doing up?” He asked. 

It was only four in the morning, and still dark outside. His little girl’s wide hazel eyes seemed unblinking as she watched him. 

“Athena, honey?” He asked, turning off the faucet. 

She popped her thumb out of her mouth and wiped it on the side of her dress. “You okay?” She asked, her voice squeaking. 

Julian chortled and carefully kneeled down to her level. “Yes, I’m okay.” He replied. 

The little girl frowned. “You're sick?” She asked.

Julian tilted his head and shook his hand from side to side. “Not really.” He said. Then, he looked up and down the hall dramatically, and turned back to her with a big grin. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He whispered. 

Athena jumped, grinning back at him. “I love secrets!” She cheered. 

Gently, Julian put his finger to his lips. Athena copied him, quieting down.

“Sorry, daddy.” She whispered loudly. 

Julian chuckled. “It's okay. Do you wanna know what it is?” He asked. 

Quickly, Athena nodded. “Petticoat too!”

At first, Julian lapsed, until he remembered the bear that she was holding. Where she had heard the word “petticoat” he had no idea. 

“Okay, he can know too.” He said, smiling. 

Athena lifted the bear up beside her face and her eyes stayed honed in on her dad. He smiled at her and cupped one hand around his mouth. 

“You're gonna be a big sister.” He said. 

Athena jumped into the air, just barely hanging onto Petticoat. Her purple nightgown swished as she bounced on her toes. “Really? When?” She asked. 

Julian shrugged. “Pretty soon actually.” He replied. 

“Can I see the baby?” She asked, looking past his shoulder as if she'd find one.

“Not yet, you’ll have to wait until they're born, then you can see them.” He answered. 

Athena nodded, and Julian could see all the gears turning behind her wide eyes. “Okay.” She said, though she sounded a little disappointed. 

Playfully, he tussled her black curls and laughed. “Atta girl!” 

Athena giggled and lightly used Petticoat to defend herself. “Daddy!”

Julian stopped and looked at her. “Now, you never told me what you were doing up.” He said. 

“We couldn't sleep.” Athena replied.

Julian raised his eyebrow. “We?”

From around the corner, two boys poked their heads into the bathroom. Jason and Lucas with their matching pairs of brown eyes.

“Can we sleep with you tonight?” Jason rasped. 

Julian held himself back from rolling his eyes. Of course his kids would ambush him like this. “Just for tonight.”

The triplets cheered and raced to his bedroom, hoping to claim the best spots in the bed. Slowly, Julian shook his head and followed them. Little did they know, he would be getting the spot that they all wanted regardless.

Week 4:

Just like that, he looked four months pregnant. He was still sort of small, but he was showing now. He honestly couldn’t believe that he was almost halfway done!

“Ugh, that's cold!” He hissed.

“Sorry.” Anita said as she stuck the wand into the gel on his belly, moving it around. Julian watched the screen from the table. So far it didn't look like much. All that he could see was darkness and indistinguishable glowing grey spots. 

“There they are!”

And then suddenly, they were there. Two humanoid blobs on the screen. The one in front took up most of the space, sucking their thumb calmly. He could barely see its sibling, but they were there. 

Anita looked over to him, her brown hair swishing. She gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen. 

“Do you wanna know the sexes?” She asked.

Week 7:

The last time that he had gotten this far, Julian had been tired of being pregnant. This time however, it had been less than two months. 

His belly has completely rounded out with the twins. Honestly, the way that this pregnancy had passed so quickly, he wished that he had more time to enjoy it. 

“Ugh.” He sighed. He had just barely made it to the bathroom, thanks to his baby. Sometimes, he wondered if she saw his insides as toys. It would explain a lot. 

The twins were an interesting pair. Baby A was always moving, a huge ball of energy. She liked to play games like “kick daddy’s bladder��� or “shove my twin into daddy’s ribs.”

Baby B was always hiding behind baby A. He liked to think that they were shy. They barely showed up on ultrasounds, so much so that Anita couldn't tell what sex they were. Julian wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that he didn't have two rowdy babies. 

Carefully, he poked at the lump in his belly. After a moment, it moved, earning him a swift kick. 

Even though it was uncomfortable, he felt relieved. Baby B was way too chill sometimes. 

Week 10:

Now Julian was tired of being pregnant. At this point he would be considered overdue, and he sure felt it. 

His belly looked more like an oblong than a ball. It was lopsided and his large twins poked out at every angle. His stretch marks had stretch marks and he was so tired all the time. If another week passed, it would be like he had been pregnant for 11 months and that was the last thing he wanted. 

The last time that he was pregnant, he hadn't developed breasts, but this time they were huge and filled with milk, constantly leaking. Normally, it would be a plus not to have to buy formula, but he would have gotten it for free anyway!

He and Anita agreed that if he didn't pop by the end of this week, that he would be induced at Genesis. He knew he would be safe, but it wasn't what he wanted. 

So here he was, bouncing on a yoga ball, hoping to disrupt his still waters. His belly weighed him down considerably, so he had to plant his feet to make sure that he didn't fall. 

He was tired and sweating, even though it had only been a few minutes. These twins were taking a lot out of him. He held the underside of his gravid mass, keeping himself balanced.

Of course, baby A had something to say about this. She kicked like a madman inside of him, making moving lumps in his belly. 

“I'm trying to get you out of here. Just hold on.” He panted. 

Julian bounced and bounced to the point where his muscles were starting to get sore. Other than a few general aches, he felt nothing change. He sighed, disappointed. He spread his legs and leaned on his knees, trying to think of what to do next. 

“I wish I had a partner.”

Sex induced labor would be a pretty high note to start on. Unfortunately, he was a single dad with no prospects. Genesis wasn't exactly a dating service. 

But now that he thought about it. Who was the other parent to his children? They never gave him any information on the egg donor. He couldn't produce eggs on his own, so there had to be someone out there. Were they with Genesis too? 

Quickly, Julian shook the thought out of his head. He would definitely be asking about this later, but right now, his priority was trying to induce labor. Since the ball wasn't working, he’d have to try something else. 

Maybe a jog? 

Before he thought to assess this idea, he was outside, under the hot son, sweating like a pig. He should have just paced through his house or something. This was hell! 

His hand grew clammy around his house keys as he tried to jog. Why hadn't he put them in his pockets? 

He looked down at his chest which bounced with every move. 

Women held things in the bras all the time. Maybe he could try to find the appeal. 

After looking around for any of his neighbors, he pulled the collar of his shirt and dropped his keys into his breasts. After a little while longer, he had completely forgotten about them, only thinking of how hot the sun was. 

Considering that he could hardly walk, trying to jog was interesting. It was more like a brisk walk. His huge breasts shook too much for him to run comfortably and his gravid belly slowed him down. So he had to settle. 

His new neighborhood was small and quiet. No one cared to bother him, so he felt comfortable walking around like this. At least, as comfortable as he could be while being heavily pregnant.

He walked a few houses down, carefully avoiding any cracks in the sidewalk. He’d learned the hard way that with this belly, he could be a little clumsy. At least he had caught himself in time. 

He looked behind him, making sure his house was still in sight. Even though the kids were at daycare, he didn't want to go too far, just in case the babies finally did decide to come. 

He paced his neighborhood at least five times. After a while, he was sore and tired. Still, there was nothing. Now he was just sweaty, huge, and exhausted. At least before, he was just huge. 

Julian sighed in disappointment again. It wasn't what he had planned. After his first babies, he felt comfortable in his home. He imagined being in a tub full of warm water with Anita coaching him and holding his hand, bringing life to his twins in the safety of his dwelling. 

If he had to get induced, he’d be stuck at Genesis. It wasn't a bad place, hospitals were worse and far more cold, but he didn't want to be surrounded by strangers and unfamiliar walls. Maybe he’d be physically safe with all of the doctors around, but where was the comfort in that?

He ruminated on his anxiety as he started to walk home. Salty tears pricked at his eyes, making it hard to focus. Going through this pregnancy so quickly was already so much, he just wanted to give birth his way. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a shaky breath as he approached the house. He’d call Anita tomorrow morning and have her drive him to the facility. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She would still be there to care for him. 

He walked through the back gate and shut it. After all the exercise that he had been doing, he just wanted to get in bed and lie down. His babies weren't coming today anyway, a little rest would hurt.

As he started down the cobblestone path to the back door, he felt something in his belly drop and a twinge in his side. He frowned at the sudden sensation and rubbed his roundness to soothe it. 

Keeping his hand on his belly, he continued walking. As he did, his belly felt heavier than ever. His lower back ached and creaked with every step. He felt completely stuffed. 

Just as he took his next step, his belly compressed itself hard. He grunted and lowered his body into a deep squat. Deep in his hips, he felt something sink. A familiar feeling split through him as his anus opened for his baby’s head.

He rolled his head, unable to move due to the pain. 

“Fuuuck!” He exclaimed as he pushed. 

The head pressed against his ass outwards, opening him up and waiting for him to push again. He put his hands on his knees and panted through the pain.

All of a sudden, he was about to give birth in his sweatpants.

“*HUFF!* Guess I’m…” he paused, letting out a strained breath. “...not getting… *huff!* induced!” 

On one hand it was a relief; he wouldn't have to give birth at Genesis. If he could just get into the house, he could fill up the tub and call Anita for help. On the other hand, how was he supposed to get to the house now?

His hips were wide open and he could feel his baby slipping. If he was going to make it, he had to do it fast!

With a deep breath out, he forced himself to stand. His baby shifted uncomfortably, trapped in his tight birth canal. Calmly, he rubbed his belly. 

“It's okay. It's okay. We’ll be safe soon. Just hold on.” He whispered to his soon-to-be-born twins. 

Carefully, he lifted his left leg to start walking. He felt like his baby was going to fall right into his boxers. She shifted impatiently, making her way down to his rim. He trudged through the odd pressure, making headway towards the house. 

Another contraction rolled over him, he tried to walk, but the pain burned him on the inside. He stopped and put his hands on his knees. He didn't want to push, he couldn't! He was in his backyard!

“Please, please just let me get inside.” He quietly pleaded to his body. 

Unfortunately, he knew very well that his babies did not like to be held in. All of a sudden, he felt his face grow hot and his belly tense. Without even thinking about it, he was pushing into his pants.

“No no no!” He cried breathlessly. 

A splatter of mucus fell from his loosening hole, making him uncomfortably wet. If he didn't get into that house soon, he was gonna be bent over in his yard. He had to move. 

With a low groan, he lifted his belly in his arms. It didn't lift his baby girl much, but it did relieve some of the pressure. He sighed shakily, feeling twin b enter his ribs. It was nothing he couldn't handle, he had spent months being heavy like this with his last set. He could do this…

The head made it so that he couldn't close his legs anymore. He squatted down and tried his best to crab-walk to the house. He could feel the head pressing down as his hole twitched with strain. This baby was itching to be born. 

Finally, he reached the stairs of his home. As soon as he lifted his leg, a wet gush soaked his pants. The baby dropped right into his anus, bulging it out. 

“Shit!” He hissed, making a sour, pained expression. 

Still, he kept going, lifting his heavy load as much as he could. Every time that he opened his legs, his ass bulged more. He could feel his skin rubbing against his boxers. The door was right there; even if he couldn't make it to the tub, he’d at least be inside. 

As he conquered the last stair, another contraction conquered him. He dropped to his knees and gritted his teeth in agony. Without him even trying, his baby popped into his underwear at a full crown. 

He gasped in surprise as the baby's legs rushed past his prostate. At the same time, he came into his pants, both ends soaked. 

“Hah!” 

He opened his knees and leaned on the door with his forearms. He placed his head against his way in and closed his eyes, panting. The baby's head swung back and forth with each breath he took, held loosely by his aching rim. 

Julian's heartbeat throbbed in his ears, his pulse racing. Slowly, he put his hand in his pocket, careful not to disturb his baby. 

His skin grazed the leather of his wallet, a crunchy candy wrapper, and his allergy pills from this morning. 

But no keys. 

His eyes burst open. Foregoing his waiting baby, he shoved his hand in his other pocket and felt around. 

Phone, broken threads, wait, why was his grandpa’s watch here?

Still no keys. 

“Oh!” Another contraction spread him to the greatest width. Now, his baby’s shoulders were pressing against him.

He wasn't gonna make it. 

Tears welled in his eyes as he leaned forward against the door. Using his home as support, he finally bore down, admitting defeat. 

It was like lightning had struck somewhere in the left side of his ass. His mouth opened to scream, but only whimpers were released. 

He stopped, letting the baby hang in his boxers. 

“*Huff!* *Huff!*”

The pain rippled through him like a tide; with it, he swung his hips side to side. Teary cries escaped his lips as he slumped against the door.

“I can’t do this. I can't!” He sobbed to no one. 

His legs trembled weakly under him as his arms dropped to the side and he fell against the concrete. 

~~~

A draining sound screamed in his ears as his eyes were greeted by the afternoon sun. 

“Ah!” He hissed, shielding himself.

As soon as he moved, he felt his daughter, half born into his boxers. Still. His head jumped up and he took in the scene around him. He could feel his heartbeat in what would soon be a bruise on his head, but that wasn't what he was concerned about. 

Under him was a thin pool of blood, soaked into the concrete. It reflected the glare of the sun right into his eyes. He hissed and brought his hand up to his head. As soon as he did, it just caused him more pain. 

He pulled his hand back and stared at the blood on his fingers.

Immediately, he reached for his belly. He could feel all of the fluids he had lost soaked into his pants. His belly had gone down significantly, he could see the outline of his second baby, writhing around inside of him like she never had before. 

He sighed deeply, half in relief and half in terror. Baby B was okay, but he had to push out Baby A and check on her. 

Still on his side, he opened his legs. His baby girl dropped into his boxers, hanging inside of him. First, he had to get these pants off. 

He grabbed the waistbands of his pants and boxers. They were completely drenched, stuck to his clammy skin. 

Carefully, he lifted his left hip off of the ground. The strain on his abdomen pushed his baby even lower, but that wasn't what he was focused on. 

As quickly as he could, he dragged his wet garments down his legs. They stuck to every nook and cranny on him, especially his stretch marks. Another contraction rushed through his body and he closed his teary eyes. Still, he kept pulling, feeling his baby's hips pop out of his. 

He gritted his teeth and pushed through, pulling his clothes down. As soon as he got them to his knees, baby A slipped out of him with a gush of amniotic fluid, and lay on the concrete. 

Without even thinking about it, Julian reached for her. He pulled her up to his face. At first, she was slumped in his hands, not doing anything.

Julian’s heart shot up to his mouth. Quickly, he turned her onto his back and felt her chest. 

His eyes filled with tears when he felt her heartbeat, but she still wasn't breathing. 

He turned her onto her side and stuck his fingers down her nose and throat. She was still. With tears falling from his eyes, he patted her back hard, pressing his palm into her pale skin. 

Then, her mouth opened and liquid sprayed from her. She opened her eyes, gasped, and finally cried. 

“Oh my God!” He cried, immediately pulling her up to his chest. 

His baby squirmed in his arms, screaming her way into the world. Julian hugged her close and cried with her. In response to her cries, his breasts leaked with milk, wetting his shirt. 

He blinked. Shit, how was he supposed to nurse? 

Quickly, he pulled his shirt up and unclipped his bra. He grabbed his left breast to feed her, but then a low *clink* hit his ears. 

“I know you fuckin’ lyin’.” He muttered. 

He reached between his legs, retrieving a set of sweaty keys. Why he had decided to put them there, he had no idea. His pockets weren't even full. 

Even though there was no one there, he found himself blushing with embarrassment. The memory of him grabbing them and putting them in his bra came over him. He had just wanted to know what it was like. 

Now he knew that he could lose stuff in his boobs. 

Great. 

He turned his wrist and grabbed his house key. Holding his baby girl in one hand, he used the other to reach up and unlock the door. At least he wouldn't have to be in the hot sun when his second baby decided to come. 

He crawled on the floor, holding his oldest. As soon as he was in front of the couch, he collapsed onto the soft rug. 

“Ughhh.” He groaned. 

With the sudden force, his phone tumbled out of his pocket. A familiar ringtone played from it and he turned his head. Anita’s name appeared on the screen.

Immediately, he reached for it and answered the call. Even though he was already covered in it, he couldn't help but flinch at the cold goo on the device. He wasn't about to put that on his face, so he pressed the speaker button. 

“Hello?” He said. 

“Hey Julian. I just got finished with another birth. How are the twins coming along?” She asked.

Julian looked down at the phone, to his back girl and back to the phone. 

“Umm. I kinda just had one.” He said sheepishly. 

“Wait, what!?” 

Julian cringed. “Baby B is still chilling though. The usual I guess.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Hold on tight, I'm coming over there!” Anita said. Over the phone he could hear her tires squealing. 

“That's cool, the back door’s open.” He said. “I can't exactly get up to close it. 

“Julian…” Anita sighed. 

“Don't run too many reds.” He suggested playfully. 

“...Okay, see you soon.”

~~~

Seven minutes later, he heard the door creak open. He turned around to see Anita staring down at him with her grey eyes open in terror. 

“Julian!” 

She rushed to his side and collapsed next to him. Before he could say anything, she was shining a flashlight directly into his eyes.

“Okay, it doesn't look like you have a concussion, but we should go to a hospital and make sure.” She said. 

“Uh, ouch?” He grumbled. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” She asked, ignoring his comment. 

“Long story short, my keys were in my boobs.” He replied jokingly. 

Anita didn't laugh, instead her face was completely serious. “You’ve lost a good amount of blood. We should at least patch up your head before Baby B comes.” She said. 

Quietly, Julian nodded. 

Anita pulled the first aid kit off of her shoulder and shone the light on the gash on his forehead. 

“Ooh. You might need stitches, Julian.” She hissed. 

Julian calmly shifted his baby in his arms as she searched for any other injuries.

“You tore a little bit, but it’s not too bad.” She murmured. 

Julian nodded, looking away as she examined him.

Anita held out her arms. “Let me see her, please.” She said. 

Without question, he placed her in Anita's arms. 

“She's a little pale. Let me check her oxygen levels.” She said. 

Throughout their examinations, Julian said nothing. He watched her as she handled his baby, but it felt more like he was looking through her and not at her. As she wrapped his little girl in a blanket, a sudden pressure filled him. 

“Hooh…” He huffed.

Anita's eyes shot up to him. “Julian?” 

He looked down at his writhing belly and then back to her. “I think the baby’s coming.” He said. 

Quickly, Anita sprang into action. She laid out the first aid kit and grabbed puppy pads to put under him. 

“The carpet’s already ruined anyway.” He muttered tiredly. 

“This'll still make it easier to clean up.” She replied. 

She pushed his shoulders back and set him against the couch. Gently, she lifted his knees and spread his legs open. 

“Do you need anything?” She asked. 

Julian folded his lips. “Water.” He said. 

“Okay, just hang on.” She replied, quickly jumping up to walk to the kitchen. 

Julian threw his head back against the couch cushion. He felt himself opening up again, his baby was almost ready. This would all be over soon. 

A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye and dropped onto the couch. His head throbbed and he felt cold air on the cut. As he started to cry, Anita came back with a cup of water.

“Julian?” She whispered. 

He flopped his head to the side, whimpering as tears spilled from his eyes. 

“Anita!”

Quickly, she was at his side again. “Are you hurting? Is something wrong?” She asked. 

“She- she wasn't breathing. She was turning blue. I don't know how long I was out.” He rambled. 

Anita blinked. “You passed out?” She asked. 

Julian nodded, his lips trembling. 

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. 

“It's okay. You're not alone anymore. She's still here and so am I. You're gonna be okay.” She whispered to him. 

Julian leaned onto her shoulder as a contraction hit him again. He opened his knees and started to bear down. He felt Anita jump in surprise. 

“Julian, wait! I have to check on the tear.” She started to release him from her arms, but he swiftly grabbed her hand. 

“Please don't go.” He said. 

Anita's grey eyes welled with tears. She blinked them back and sniffed. “Okay.” She replied. 

“Thank you.”

She wrapped her arms around him once more and he put his chin to his chest. Planting his feet into the puppy pads, he pushed again. 

“You’ve got this Jules.” She whispered. 

Julian threw his head back against the couch and panted. His baby's head was beginning to fill him up, but wasn't coming down as fast as Baby A. 

“Fuck.” He cried.

“Come on Julian. Give me another big push.” Anita said, squeezing his shoulders. 

Julian gritted his teeth and pulled his head back up. Spreading his knees apart, he pushed again. This time, fluids sprang from his asshole, his water had finally broken again.

“URGH!” 

He forced himself to keep pushing, feeling his baby split him open. 

“You're doing great, Jules.” Anita encouraged him. 

Finally, his second baby reached his rim. The tear stretched open and he flinched in pain. 

“Fuck, it hurts!” He exclaimed.

“Keep pushing.” Anita said. 

So he did. He felt the burn as his baby spread him wider than he ever should be. Ripping him open farther than their twin. 

He whimpered and threw his head back with tight teeth. “Ohhh!” He cried out. 

“Come on, you're almost there!” Anita proclaimed. 

Julian's heart raced as her voice gave him the strength to go on. He pushed his chin as deep into his chest as it could go. His hips slipped forward, but Anita held him tightly so that he didn't fall. 

“AAAA-AUUUUGH-HAH-HAH!” He screamed. 

His feet kicked the air and he held tightly to Anita. In one final push, his baby spilled out of his asshole and began to cry. 

Anita's tears finally fell onto his bare skin. “It's a girl!” She exclaimed. 

Julian leaned into her shoulder, panting heavily. 

“Stay with me, Jules!”

Anita placed the baby into his trembling arms. She jumped down to look at the tear.

“I'm gonna call an ambulance. Keep your eyes open for me.” She said.

“Uh…huh.” Julian slowly groaned. 

“Come on now. You’ve got two babies and three other kids to be here for. Don't make me shake you.” She said. 

Weakly, Julian lifted his head off of the couch and looked down. Immediately, he regretted it when he saw the pool of blood under him, still growing. 

“No, Look at me!” Anita shouted. 

Julian lifted his head again and stared into her teary grey eyes. “Stay with me, Jules.” She said. 

Julian nodded, still holding his baby girl. 

~~~

“They're so little.” Athena whispered in awe. 

“They sure didn't feel little…” Julian muttered. 

Once they were weighed, the doctors found that his twin girls were each the size of a one month old. Baby A being 9 pounds and 10 ounces and Baby B being 11 pounds and 3 ounces.

Just the thought of it made him shudder.

“I'm glad these are ours, cus those other babies look funny.” Jason said. 

A young couple turned to look and him and Julian cringed. “Don't say that. That's rude.” He chastised. 

“What are their names?” Lucas asked sweetly, standing on his tiptoes to look at his new baby sisters. 

“The one on the left that's wriggling around is Estrella.” He said. 

“What about her?” Lucas asked, pointing to his other sister. 

“I was getting to that!” Julian exclaimed playfully. He grinned at his baby girl through the window. “She's Erika.” He replied. 

“Yay! I'm not the only girl anymore!” Athena cheered. 

As she took a victory lap through the maternity ward. Jason looked back at Julian. “Three on three.” He commented. 

With a chuckle, Juliam tousled his oldest son's hair. “That's right!”

“Are you gonna have any more, daddy?” Lucas asked, his brown eyes wide with wonder. 

Julian winced. “Ooh! Don't even start, kiddo.” He said. 

All of his stitches were still itchy three days later. Not to mention the hemorrhoids. Ugh. 

“Daddy, how are babies made anyway?” Jason asked. 

Julian looked off to the side. “Um…”

How many ways should he even explain to a two year old? There was no way that they were gonna understand test tube babies yet.

“How about I tell you when we get home?” He replied. 

“Okay.” Jason said.

He was totally doomed. 

[notnicodrawingstuff]

The King's Wrath

Got this on my other account, so here you go!

Contains: Childbirth, birth denial, monster pregnancy, sadism, pushingbabybackin, mpreg, tmpreg, about 4.6k words

.

.

.

The king was livid. As Armand was escorted from the prison, he felt the head of his first child pressing against his cervix. After a long wait, it was finally time, but he wasn't excited.

His swollen belly sunk between his knees, curving his back inwards painfully. His wide load was too large to be just human children, and he knew it. He just didn't want to believe it. After a couple nights spent between his king and a dragonborn vagabond, he fell pregnant. The witch doctor had exposed his affair, and no one knew who the father of his children was.

As he was bathed in the sunlight of the throne room, he laid eyes upon his majesty. King Leon Albaine the third was no dragon born. Standing at 5 feet and two inches, the gnome had long, flowing brown hair, clever green eyes, under brows that nearly covered them in anger, and a long and full beard.

Despite his stature, Leon was a rock of a man. He could win nearly any battle…

…Except this one. 

He looked down upon Armand with dark eyes. 

“Leon I-”

“Silence.” The gnome said coldly. “Have you thought about what you’ve done?” 

Armand nodded, his eyes filling with tears.

“I doubt that. Your whoring has ruined me. My kingdom thinks that I am weak, that I allow my consorts to float about. I must show them that is not the case.” He said. 

Armand looked up at him, wondering how he would do that. He had already thrown him in prison and denounced him. What more could he do?

“Essence!”

The dreaded witch instantly appeared by his side, her silver hair floating on a non existent breeze. 

“The book, please.” He said.

With a sly smirk, she handed it to him. He took his glasses from his cape and turned the pages quickly.

“By Aryulan customs, and unfaithful consort with be punished on display in front of the kingdom. On the throne, she will birth her children, chained to the crest of the Albaine crown.” 

Armand’s eyes dropped open. He looked up at Leon in complete shock. “What?”

Leon closed the book. “It is a tradition held by my bloodline since my great, great grandmother Leonna and her “wife”. It is as it says.”

He turned and pointed to the large crest on the wall above his throne. It gleamed with the pride of generations. 

“When your water breaks, you will sit on this throne and birth your bastards. My subjects will watch and cheer at your pain as you did mine.” He continued.

“Leon-”

“Spit my name from your mouth. The privilege to call me that expired after you broke my heart!” He shouted.

Armand sniffed. “But your majesty. What will this solve? You said that you loved me. How could you hurt someone that you love?”

The gnome king squinted and turned his back on him. “I could ask you the same question.” He replied. 

~~~

Armand sat up in his cell panting through contractions. He hoped that if he didn't do anything, his water wouldn't break. Maybe then, Leon would have time to get over this tantrum; and he could give birth normally.

But he was exhausted, two days in and he felt as if his baby would burst out of him like a rocket. Why couldn't he have felt like this the month before? Before Leon knew that he had cheated. 

It was all Essence’s fault. That damn witch. She ruined everything. If it weren't for her gossiping tongue, he wouldn't be in this situation. His heart raced in anger, just from the thought of her and her smug face. 

Why did she have to-

His thought was suddenly interrupted by a cramp that drew his huge belly in. He gasped in surprise and pain. His baby's head slammed into his cervix, bringing tears to his eyes.

“Oh Gods!” He whispered.

The one time that he needed this baby to stay in, it wanted to come out. Kids never listen!

Slowly, he scooted up the wall, recovering from his contraction. As he did, he felt something burst, and all of a sudden, he was soaked. 

“Curses!” He whispered

He didn't have much time left. He knew that the guards stood in the hallway, periodically checking on him and his stubborn womb. If he was going to do this, he had to make it as quick and quiet as possible. 

His robes were heavy and full, surely they could conceal him. Feeling another cramp begin, he scooted back and leaned against the wall to support his back. If he spread his legs it would be too obvious that something was going on, so he sat in a butterfly position. 

His belly hung low between his legs, just barely touching the ground that he sat on. Quickly, he swiveled his head and listened for the guards. He didn't see or hear any, so they were probably just outside.

He took the hem of his robe, stepped on one side and pulled as hard as he could, ripping it. He stuck the makeshift rag in his mouth, hoping to muffle any sounds that came from his pain. 

He already felt bruised on the inside, the head pressed hard against him, starting to poke its way through before he had even begun to push. 

He sat back on his butt, lifting his pussy as it started to bloom. He sighed into the rag, leaning back on his hands to support himself. Under his robes, a gush of fluid burst from him as he first began to push. 

He bit down on the rag, but kept his eyes open, watching and listening for any guards. His face heated with effort and his ears rang as he bore down. He could just barely see his large burden shrink with contraction under his dress. He just hoped that no one else would notice from afar that he was giving birth. 

The head was wide and long. Each soft scale brushed against his cervix as it entered his birth canal. He could feel thick mucus dribble out of his pussy and into his slick panties.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed again; eyes wide open in case someone came in. With his hips angled downwards, the head parted his pussy quickly and quietly.

“Mhm!” He grunted into the rag as the head reached his opening. He stopped pushing and panted through his nose. His big belly rose and fell with each breath. Just drawing air spread him farther. In just moments, he was overwhelmed with a searing pain. 

Quickly, he clapped his hand over his mouth, choking back a guttural scream. Moaning into his palm he threw his head back and rocked his hips. If he pushed now, he was sure to cry out and blow his cover. 

He felt his baby’s head move within him every time that he took a breath. The urge to push was overwhelming, but he knew that he couldn't. This was the birth of his baby that was in jeopardy, who knows what Leon would do to him if he was caught.

“Hmph-” He grunted, angling his hips downwards. The head spread him open and the scales scraped his bruising hole. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out.

Why had he done this? He was no dragon! These scales felt like hot iron inside of him, tearing his birth canal. 

He moaned into the rag as he felt his baby move down again. There was so much pressure that he could hardly take it. His belly warped with movement and contractions, as if whatever was inside of him would burst from his womb. 

Slick with fluids, the head slowly slid down, pushing his pussy outwards. He gritted his teeth into the rag and took in the deepest breath that he could. Armand wrenched his eyes shut and bore down. 

Hot tears slipped from his tightened eyes and cascaded onto his full breasts, weighed down by milk. His belly nearly flattened against him as he pushed. Fluid spurted into his robes and the first half of the head popped out with a soaking squelch. 

He gasped through his nose, shocked by the sudden sensation. His pussy and hips were spread to their limit. The stretched, bulging skin of his opening burned, trembling over the baby's head. The pain was unbearable and the heat radiated throughout his body. 

His robes kept all of his pain and sweat close, choking him with fever. He threw his head back against the wall, his heart racing in his chest. 

He tried to push, but the pain was too great. The head only bulged his pussy. He felt as if he was going to split apart from the sheer size. This baby was going to tear him to shreds. 

Suddenly, he heard the sound of  voices at his door. He jumped, nearly forgetting the agony that he was in. He clenched for just one second and cried into the rag. That one moment of surprise caused part of the head to slip back into him, scraping his pussy along the way. 

He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut as his belly contracted once more, slipping the head back out again. He was fully stretched and he knew that he couldn't take much more.

Still, the voices grew closer. They were approaching him. Quickly, he spit the rag from his mouth and hid it between his falling breasts. His robes were colored with dark red, purple, and crimson dyes; the wetness of his labor was concealed by them. 

He forced himself from the wall, but stayed in position, keeping his legs open for the baby. As the voices drew near, his heart sank as a familiar cadence entered his ears. 

Leon.

What would the gnome king say when he saw him? Had he come to taunt and scorn him once more? Had the storm passed? Could Armand beg for his forgiveness?

As the lock to his prison turned, he knew that his questions would soon be answered. 

“Has anything changed?” He asked. 

“Nothing yet, your majesty. The prisoner has been quiet.” The guard said. 

He could feel the look of annoyance in Leon’s voice. “And you didn't bother to check what that meant? He could be in labor!” He exclaimed. 

“My apologies. I was under the impression that you didn't care, sire.” The guard spluttered. 

“Of course I care. I made a vow to my kingdom. I cannot allow him to escape his fate.” He hissed. 

Armand's heart dropped. There was no way that Leon would let him birth his child here if he was discovered. On the inside, his child kicked and he instinctively reached for his gravid belly. He had to keep them safe somehow. 

The door finally opened and Leon entered the chamber. His face was stuck in a permanent, pensive frown. He barged into the prison, knowing that in some way, he owned Armand. For the first time since they had last laid together, Leon looked down on him. 

The two stared at each other in silence, watching through the bars. 

“M-my…my king.” Armand whimpered, his lower lip quivering. 

Leon only looked down in silence. The only sounds that Armand could hear were the desperate beats of his heart in his ears, and his own, labored breaths. 

“Why have you come to see me?” He asked. 

Without a word, Leon unlocked the door to the cell and walked in. He stood over Armand, red in the face with rage. 

“Stand.” He commanded.

Armand blinked rapidly. His baby’s head hung between his legs, still stretching him. 

“What?” He asked. 

Leon sneered. “You dare question your king? I told you to stand!”

Armand swallowed back tears and looked up at his king. His legs shook even as he sat, his hips were wide open and his body was weak. There was no way that he could do that. 

“I… I can't.” He whispered. 

Leon frowned. “What?” 

“I can't!” He exclaimed.

Leon’s breath hitched. “Why not?” He asked. 

He reached to touch his aching roundness, tears spilling from his eyes. 

“My baby is coming.” He wept. 

“What?”

“I am in the throes of labor, my king. I am in great pain.” He continued.

Leon's eye twitched. Before he could say anything more, his robes were pulled up. In his panties was a large, bloody bulge, writhing with every breath that he took. 

“Please, Leon. I just want to have my baby.” Armand cried. 

The King's face warped. His face and ugly mix of disgust and anger, but Armand could also see fear in his eyes. Under  the blood and fluids were crimson scales under thin brown hair, markings of a dragon born.

“I knew it.” Leon whispered. 

“Leon-”

“Guards!” He shouted. 

As footsteps rang through the dungeon, Armand loomed back to Leon with watery eyes. 

“Please, my king. Have mercy!” He cried. 

Leon stuck out his chin and flared his nostrils with a deep frown. “No.” Was all that he said. 

In an instant, he reached for Armand's nethers and palmed the baby’s head. 

“What are you do-AAAUGH!”

In one said motion, he shoved the head back inside of his birth canal, entering him and far as he could. 

Without thinking, Armand kicked him in the shoulder, throwing him back. Leon's eyes gleamed with rage.

“Stop it!” Armand cried. 

Another contraction ripped through him, blinding him with pain. His head was overcome by heat. Guards rushed in, one kneeled by Leon’s side.

They grabbed under his arms and forced him to his feet. He screeched in agony and his baby slipped down inside of him, scraping his insides. Liquid ran down his leg as a guard pushed his back.

“Walk.” He commanded. 

This time, Armand didn't argue. Shakily, he stepped forward, letting the guards rush him to the throne room. 

~~~

With a deep gasp, he awoke. He leaned forward, but found himself stuck. First, he looked down. His belly was still full with his spawn, rippling with contractions. Blood ran down the golden throne to his bare feet. 

His breasts weeped milk onto his roundness, and a tight, leather garment bound his pussy. 

He pressed forward, but was stopped by the chains around his wrist. The cuffs were tight and pulled his arms upwards towards the crest that hung high above the royal throne. 

“Ungh!” He pushed, but it was no use. The leather held him tight, keeping his baby inside. 

Tears filled his eyes as they left his own body. The throne room was filled with spectators, men and women, drinking, betting, laughing. They all watched as the king entered the stage, his eyes on Armand.

“You're awake.” He muttered. 

“Le- HAH!” He gasped. The baby's head pressed against the leather, filling him painfully. 

“Save your strength, my dear. You will need it to birth your little monsters.” He crooned, stroking his cheek. 

Quickly, Armand turned his head and bit down, but he only caught the air. 

Leon grinned. “Calm down now, I’m only trying to make this easier for you.” He said. 

Armand panted. “How is any of this easy?” He demanded. 

Leon shrugged. “At least after this, that first dragonette is bound to come shooting out of you.”

Turning around, he lifted his leg and pressed his foot against his crotch. Armand's vision swam as the pain raced through his body. His belly flattened against him, trying with no avail to get the baby out.

Still, he looked up at the king with contempt. “You never said you would do this to me.” He hissed.

“That was before you tried to escape the consequences of your actions.” Leon replied. 

He looked out into the crowd. “Do you see them?” He asked, referring to his subjects. “They're betting on how many babies you'll release from your lying lips and what they will be.”

He turned back to Armand with a sly smile. “I bet you don't even know what's living inside of you.” He teased. He placed a palm on his writhing belly and Armand could do nothing about it. 

“You are sick!” Armand hissed. 

Leon's eyebrows bounced on his forehead. “Watch what you say. I could have you laboring even longer if I do please.” He said. “You're lucky that I only decided to delay your birth by a day as punishment for your tricks.” 

Armand's breath hitched, but in his quest for words, he came up with nothing. 

“Maybe this will give you some time to think about what you've done.” Leon replied. 

After that, he turned on his heel and started to walk away. Armand pulled on the chains, fruitlessly trying to catch up to him. 

“You can't do this!” He cried. “You have to let me give birth! It hurts! Please!”

His only answer was Leon walking off of the stage and sitting in the crowd. A sadistic smile spread across his face as he watched Armand writhe in pain.

~~~

The sun rose and set and Armand labored all the while. After so much time, he didn't care that he was naked and on display for the whole kingdom to see. He had to push. 

He spread his legs as wide as they could go and angled his hips off of the throne. The leather made his efforts fruitless, pressing against him tightly, pushing his baby back inside his battered pussy. 

He had no strength left to cry or scream, all that he could do was wait. The crowd watched him with hungry eyes, betting on his life, the life of his babies. 

Through the stained glass windows of the throne room, the sun beat down on him, freckling and tanning his brown skin. He was covered in cold sweat and birthing fluids that ran down the throne, covering the stairs. 

He whimpered and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to end. Through the deafening agony, he heard footsteps and just barely opened his eyes. 

Leon approached him, dressed in all of his royal garb. His crown resting on top of his head. His face was hardened, but he still glowed with sadism. 

“How are you doing, darling?” He asked, lifting Armand's chin. 

Armand winced and shivered. “I’m. Fine.” He whispered shortly.  

Leon tilted his head and smiled. “Aw, look at you, putting on a brave face. You really are a gem.” He said. 

“It's too bad that you just couldn't be satisfied with me, we could have had great times together.” He crooned. 

Armand sniffed. “I want nothing to do with you.” He growled. 

“That's too bad.” He paused and pressed a hand down on Armand's tight belly. The laboring man cried out in pain and fluids spurted from his pussy. Blood flowed down the stairs, decorating them in gore. 

“Maybe I’ll have you go another day. The crowd seems to like you. Did you know that you're the first to do this in seventy nine years?” He taunted. 

Armand couldn't answer, still crying from the torture.  He couldn't even move to soothe himself. He was completely vulnerable and stuck. His baby writhed inside of him, pressing against the leather garment. 

“You can either denounce yourself for your children or… well, leave it up to fate.” Leon teased. 

Armand gasped. “Just let me give birth to my babies.” 

Leon shrugged. “It's your choice.”

With a pensive pause, Armand turned towards the crowd. He hung his head, looking down at his bloodied crotch. 

“I, Armand of Belfdale, renounce my place as consort. Due to my unfaithfulness, I have brought this upon myself. I would be honored for his majesty to let me release my bastards against his throne.” He said. 

Almost instantly, the crowd began to boo him. Throwing their food and drinks towards the throne. The uproar burned his ears and tears fell from his eyes.

Leon turned back to him, but he didn't bother to look into his cold green eyes again. 

“Well, they seem excited.” He said. 

Armand stayed silent. 

“Surely, you can wait until they calm down.”

~~~

Night fell and Armand's consciousness was weak. He rose and fainted multiple times during dinner. He knew that this couldn't continue for much longer. 

This time, a guard stepped up to the plate. He couldn't see his face through his helmet, but he seemed nervous. 

“The king is graciously allowing you to give birth.” He said. 

Armand panted heavily, watching the rise and fall of his own belly.

Without another word, the young guard undid the leather straps and slowly pulled them down and off of his ankles. Armand spread his legs. His contractions had weakened over time, but he still needed to push. He was going to deliver these babies. 

He angled his hips off of the throne and whimpered as his baby's scaley head reentered his ruined hole. He wrenched his eyes shut and turned away from the crowd as they jeered. 

He wished that he could rub his belly, feel the head and tell his little baby that everything would be okay, but he was chained, terrified and in grave pain. He had to do this quickly. 

He pressed his chin to his chest and pushed, barely even having a voice left. A high pitched whine slipped between his teeth as he was once again, stretched to his limit. 

Even when the weak contraction stopped, he kept pushing,forcing his baby lower. Suddenly, the head popped out of him and a gush of fluids that he didn't know he had in him vacated his body. 

He gasped and leaned forward, pulling on the chains. His baby’s scales had hardened inside of him and scraped against his vagina. Still, he pressed on. 

Bearing down again, the baby's neck and shoulders slowly slipped out. They sank heavily into his pussy, pulling the rest of the body out. Before he could react, his first baby fell onto the stage.

Armand gasped and leaned forward as much as he could. The little girl squirmed, opened her mouth and finally cried. Despite the pain that he was in, Armand felt relieved. 

“It's okay, I'm here. It's okay.” He whispered to her. 

As she cried, another, stronger contraction rushed through him. His belly tightened and he felt his pussy stretch, but he didn't even realize that he was pushing until his second baby fell onto the ground next to her sister.

He and the crowd gasped in unanimous surprise. This girl had no scales and a full head of curly brown hair. Her birth had been so fast that Armand barely had time to react. Neither did his body. 

After he saw her, his pussy throbbed with horrible pain. He winced and spread his legs as he lost more blood. At this point, he was so swollen that he was becoming numb. 

Despite birthing two babies, his belly hadn't gone down by much. He still felt full and restless. Inside him, another baby writhed and kicked impatiently. Now that their siblings were free, they were next.

The head pressed against his loose cervix, his hips popped, and he felt as if he was going to break apart. His belly lurched with another contraction. 

The crowd cheered wildly, excited for another, longer birth. He wasn't concerned about them though, their shouts were dulled by the pain that he was in.

Armand could hear his heartbeat in his ears, rushing especially quickly as his babies cried from the floor. He had to get to them. 

All of a sudden, he felt something snap and searing hot agony permeated his hips. He shrieked, crying out. Something was wrong, this baby was pushing him past his limits. 

Despite how hard he was pushing, the baby wouldn't move any further. The scaly head pressed him open, forcing his legs as far apart as they could go.

“AUGHH!” He screamed. His voice shook and cracked from effort. He could feel the veins in his forehead popping. Still, he pushed fruitlessly. 

A wave of amniotic fluid flushed from him, soaking the stairs of the stage and the throne. There was nothing else, his hips were stuck open and he felt as if he was going to burst. He had to do something. Anything!

For the first time in hours he lifted his head, facing the crowd. Gasps and whispers followed his gaze as he planted his feet and slowly stood. His big belly poked out in front of him, full of the large baby he was carrying. 

His hips protested greatly, but he held himself up. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he pushed once more. 

“HUAAAGH!”

Pink fluid spilled from him as he bore down. His pussy bulged out as the head finally entered his birth canal. He lunged and pushed again, feeling the baby's head press against the outside world.

This head was even harder than his oldest daughter's, and blood ran down his legs as the scales cut him. He put his chin to his chest and pulled on the chains. His baby was depending on him. 

As much as he could, he squatted. His belly constricted against him and he whimpered loudly. His large load sank as the baby's head finally popped out of his vagina, opening it completely. 

He pushed down, pulling on the chains. He spread his legs as wide as he could. The baby’s weight filled him and bulged him out. He felt as if his organs were going to fall from him. 

Briefly, he stopped pulling and gasped for air. He opened his eyes and looked up at Leon. The king stared down at him with hardened eyes, watching as his pussy slowly released this monster of a baby. 

Armand curled his lip, looked into his eyes and pushed again. The scales scraped him and opened his mouth and screamed, still looking into Leon’s eyes. He and his babies were going to make it, Leon wasn't his master, even if he was chained. 

With his momentum, he pulled against the restraints as his baby's shoulders left his body with a squelch. The child hung still inside of him and he tried to push, but he felt something poking him. 

The bony structure on his child’s back stuck into the scrapes that he already had. Tears filled his eyes as they slid down, ripping his pussy. 

Blood dropped at his feet, planted in front of the fruits of his labor. His head swam and his eyes twitched. He looked up at Leon, who looked down at him. He wasn't sure, but it looked like a smirk crossed his face.

Leon thought that he was weak. He’d show him.

He pulled on the chains as hard as he could and pushed. His baby tore into him as it came down. His baby spilled from him and the bony structures unfolded just below his vagina. 

Wings.

“AAAUGH!”

He pulled on the chains and gave one final push. As he did, a deafening bang rang from behind him. Quickly, he swiveled his head around as the Albaine crest was forced from the wall.

The sudden change sent Armand sprawling to the ground beside his babies, as his son fell from his wounded womb. The crest crushed the throne, kicking up hundreds of years of dust.

The crowd immediately ran for the doors. In the panic, the king's mobile throne was dropped. Armand watched in horror as he fell into the audience and was trampled.

With the subjects in terror and the knights trying to rescue the king, everyone has forgotten about Armand. He took that as his chance. In the chaos he ran to grab a tablecloth. Quickly, he grabbed his children and disappeared into the night. Never to be seen again. 

[notnicodrawingstuff]

A king chains his male consort to his throne while a month overdue and laboring. This consort was unfaithful and thus his punishment is to give birth on the throne unassisted while the subjects watch.

Answered this on @writing-nico !

[notnicodrawingstuff]

I can't really draw feet

[notnicodrawingstuff]

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Shout out to this fuckin' Looney-Tunes-ass circle wipe, ahahaha~

[notnicodrawingstuff]

marcille is very protective (and jealous)

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Lab Rat

18+ fiction, no minors.

Contains: Medical innovations, experiments, childbirth, multiples, unassisted birth, mpreg, anal birth. About 4k words

{Julian never thought he’d be a lab rat, but here he was; 23 and two years out of college, he should have been getting out there and starting his career. The problem was, his degree was getting him nowhere and every job seemed to have enough people the second he applied. 

The last thing that he wanted was to have to go back to his mom's house, she had enough to deal with already because of his other siblings. So when he saw an ad for a revolutionary drug trial on the news that was paying and taking care of Amenities, he knew he had to do it. 

Only, he had no idea what he was getting into until he got there.} 

Julian shook his head, trying to make sure that what he had just heard was real. “I'm sorry, what?” 

The doctor seemed completely unbothered. “We would implant an artificial uterus and after a year, you would start the fertilization process.” She said. 

Julian was slack jawed, staring at her like she had four eyes. “Yo-you can't be serious right? I mean, that's impossible!” 

She smiled. “Not anymore!”

He stared at her for a moment and She awkwardly cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses. “You haven't signed anything yet, you can always back out now.” She said. “But before you do, I advise that you read through everything, we could use your help.”

Julian paused. He’d grown up all his life in an old house as the oldest of six. He watched his mom struggle alone as she tried to keep them afloat. She worked all day and still managed to have time to bond with all of them. She was the strongest person he knew, and he admired her, but he had gone to college and tried to get a job to avoid being in another situation like that, especially if he decided to have kids. 

But this could be different. According to the contract, he’d be getting paid for his troubles, along with free room, board, daycare, and groceries. The deal was sweet. Too sweet.

“What's the catch?” He asked. 

The doctor smiled. “Nothing. All that we ask of you is that you test out new medications when they come out.” She said. 

He tried to read her expression, searching for a hint of insincerity or a speck of malice. He read her name tag again.

“So basically, to have more kids for the next few years? Is that it, Dr. Hopkins?” He prodded. 

Dr. Hopkins kept her smile. “That's all! Right now, the AU lasts for about ten years, so it will most likely be until then.” She explained. “Unless you renew your contract.”

That could be a lot of testing, even if they didn't develop many drugs over that time. Who knows how many kids he could end up having. Could he really keep up with that? 

He sighed deeply and held out his hand. “Give me the clipboard.”

He read through the contract, hanging onto every word. He kept notice of the clauses for complications and consent and made sure he knew exactly what the agreement was.

The market for his degree was dead right now, if he could have this support for however long it took to get another or find a well paying job, this could really help him…

“Do you need a moment, Mr. Perez?” Dr. Hopkins asked. 

…And having a family would be nice, especially since he wouldn't have to worry about costs. 

At that, Julian took out his pen. “No, I've made my choice.” He said. 

~~~

Julian pulled up his shirt, exposing his still flat stomach and the scar that ran between his hips. On the outside, nothing had changed, but on the inside, that was a different story. 

The trial itself, despite already having so much behind it, was still in its early stages. Julian was one of the first; and before he would test any of the drugs, he'd have to have a normal pregnancy first. 

He looked at the ultrasound, a couple of pictures that he had taped onto the corner of his mirror. Whatever was inside of him looked like a blob on the screen, but apparently, it would turn into a baby. 

Somehow, he was pregnant. After six months straight of implantations, monitoring, and waiting, there it was, barely a blip on the radar. The trial was very intense, so they had managed to catch it pretty early at just 5 weeks and two days.  

That fact petrified him. At that point, whatever was growing inside of him was barely above microscopic. He was in charge of keeping something so fragile alive. He almost wished that he didn't know, he still had over four more weeks until he was in the clear. 

Sure, he could lose this one at any point after that, but it was less likely. This was the farthest that he had gotten as of now, he just hoped that he would get lucky this time. 

~~~ 

He woke up to the stars twinkling outside of his window, it was a view like he had never seen in the city. Where there was hardly any light, and he only had a few neighbors, the heavens above shone brighter than he had ever seen before. 

At night, he could actually hear the frogs croaking and the owls hooting. In the morning, the birds would sing their songs, dew would grace his windows and the morning glories would bloom. 

Who knew that something like this was just out of the way of the loud, busy city where he had grown up. In the peace and quiet with all of the space that was there, it would be the perfect place to raise a family, and to be away from the prying eyes of the public.

Being a pregnant cis man was impossible until recently, so it brought a lot of attention. Genesis was like that; big, bold, and controversial, but at least they had some sense when it came to the wellbeing of their subjects. 

Carefully, Julian sat up in his bed and stretched as high as he could. His gravid belly seemed to try to pull him down. It wasn't that bothersome now, but when he tried to move, it was like it aimed to make it as hard as possible. 

As his hands caressed the air, he felt a ripple of pain slip through him. It was sudden and his breath caught in his throat. The second it passed, he felt like he could breathe again. When his belly loosened, he felt a tiny kick. He rolled his eyes and touched where he felt his baby last, hoping to soothe it. 

“I'm already on bed rest, at least let me get comfortable.” He muttered. 

He knew there was no sense in begging. No matter how old a child was, they weren't going to listen. At that thought, he felt another kick against his hand. He dropped his jaw, pretending to be shocked. 

“The audacity! It's my body, you just happen to be living here rent free.” He joked. 

There was no direct response, but he could still feel shifting from the inside. “You’ve got nothing to say now, do you?” He dared. 

He waited a moment, hoping to continue with what he chose to see as banter, but it seemed his little one had had enough for now. He rolled his eyes and not so smoothly, tried to roll out of bed. As soon as his muscles tensed, another wave of pain crashed into him. His belly seemed like it was trying to curl up against him. He felt as if his hips were going to break open. He squatted low and tried to force in a breath.

He gasped through the contraction, stuck clutching his bed frame for support. He had felt contractions before, but this one was definitely different. If he was right, maybe he was finally in labor!

“Ugh.” He groaned as the pain passed. He climbed to his feet and rubbed his sore back. He took a deep breath and it filled him with air, a sensation he hadn't felt in months until his belly dropped. 

Slowly, he trudged to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

Before he knew it, five weeks and 2 days had become thirty-six weeks and five days. As he got later into his pregnancy, the days seemed to stretch longer and longer. Being forced to sit around most of the day didn't help either. 

As he spit toothpaste into the sink, he felt a kick on the lower end of his bump. 

“Good morning to you too.” He murmured. 

For good measure, two embryos were implanted each time, so when two heartbeats show up during his six week ultrasound, he shouldn't have been too surprised. Despite knowing that, he still thought he was gonna shit himself that day. 

As another contraction ripped through him, he almost thought that he would this time. 

“I really hate this feeling.” He moaned. He could feel his hips opening up, making room for the baby's head. He rolled his neck and put his hands on his aching back, hoping to get some relief. The stretch made him feel only slightly less stiff. 

Finally, the contraction stopped, leaving him to huff on his own, rubbing circles into his lower back. 

“Maybe I’ll feel better if I do something else.” He thought aloud. 

With his hands on his hips, he walked around the house, stopping to lean on the wall through contractions. He wasn't sure why anyone would do this for free. Kids are cool and all, but this part? Sucked. 

He found himself squatting by the couch, letting another burst of pain rush through him. Even though his womb was artificial, it was completely connected to him. He felt every squeeze and heave that it made, forcing him to whimper through it. 

Julian took in another deep breath. His belly loosened and hung low between his legs. He held onto the couch tightly, feeling the pain pass. 

“Ugh, God. This blows.” He groaned.

Carefully, he slid down to the floor and sat down, leaning back into the couch. He kept his legs open, closing them was too uncomfortable at this point.

Just as he began to relax, he felt another searing cramp begin to build up. He clenched his jaw and took in a sharp breath, as he did, he felt something pop.

He frowned curiously and looked down when the pain washed over him. He thumbed his waistband and angled his hips up. He pulled down his pajama pants and saw a wet patch on the back of them. Then he touched his boxers.

“Gross.”

His butt felt slimy and wet. As he recovered from his last contraction, the realization came to him. 

“Oh shit.”

His water had just broken.

He looked up at the arm of the couch and threw his arm around it. Forcefully, he pulled himself up, using it as a crutch. As he moved, he felt his first baby’s head pressing on his cervix. At this point, there was no doubt that he was about to give birth. 

“I gotta call the nurse.”

Holding his heavy orb of a belly, he hobbled back to his bedroom. He reached for his cell phone on the nightstand. He grabbed it, but he couldn't seem to get a good grip on it. His hand shook and it clanged against the wood. 

He huffed in frustration and tried to steady his hand. He grabbed it again and started to put in the passcode, but his thumb slipped and it fell out of his hand again. This time, the desk wasn't under him anymore and it bounced off of the floor and slid under the bed. 

Julian stared at the floor with a dead expression. 

“Ughhh.” He groaned. 

Now he would have to go and get it. Bending over was already taxing enough, but now he had to figure out how to find his phone under the bed! Thinking quickly, he trudged back to the kitchen. His body couldn't quite match the pace of his hurried mind. 

He walked to the fridge; beside it were the broom and dustpan that he kept. He grabbed it and walked as quickly as he could, back to his bedroom. Hopefully, he could use this to push the phone back to him if it wasn't too far away. 

Julian rushed into his room and started towards the bed. He leaned onto the frame and used it to safely sit down on the floor. He sighed deeply with the effort that it took. 

Using the broom handle, he reached under the bed, poking around for his phone. During the first few taps he didn't feel anything but the hardwood floor, but finally, he heard the sound of glass. 

He really hoped that it wasn't broken. 

Carefully, he set the broom behind the phone and began to reel it in. While he pulled, another contraction snuck into him. In surprise, he dropped the broom and leaned into the bed. 

The pressure was unlike anything that he had ever felt. With one single cramp, he felt like his insides were going to fall out of him. He reached up, gripping the mattress tightly as he rocked. 

After a moment, it finally ended and he drew in a deep gasp. Tears welled in his eyes. Briskly, he wiped them away, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

He grabbed the broom again and dragged it, but there was no weight on its end. He frowned and poked around, feeling nothing but the floor. 

“Oh, great. Where is it?” He grumbled. 

He shoved the broom handle farther under the bed, leaning as far as his belly would let him. Finally, he heard the sound of the broom hitting the glass screen. He tried to pull it in, but he found that he didn't have enough momentum. It was at the other end of the bed, against the wall. The entire broom had all but disappeared under the frame. 

“Shit!” 

Hastily, he pulled again. The broom snagged and dragged something under the bed. 

“Yes- hooh…” Another contraction hit his belly and fluid poured out of him. With a quiet pop, he felt his baby slip past his cervix into his modified birth canal. 

“No no! Not now.”

Julian pulled the broom closer and reached under the bed, forgetting his burden. As he tried to grab his phone, his heart dropped before he could even realize what was happening. 

He slipped on his own mess. It felt like he was moving in slow motion as the floor rose up to meet him. As quickly as he could, he grabbed his belly and turned to the side. 

He heard the impact before he felt it. With his hand on his belly, he tried to sit up. His arm throbbed underneath him and trembled under his weight. By now, he had forgotten about the phone, he just needed to get up. 

“Come on, come on.” He urged himself. 

He tried his hardest to pull himself into a seated position, but as soon as he did, he felt something hard in his ass. He nearly fell again when the pressure filled him up. 

Stuck in an uncomfortable position, he moved his free hand from his belly to the seat of his pants. He cupped his hand around his throbbing hole, feeling the peak of a head. 

Quickly, he dropped his hand to support himself and pulled his knees upwards. As he moved, he felt his belly shrink under the pressure of a contraction. 

“Oh shit.” He moaned.

Now that his water had broken and the head was sticking out, it hurt so much more. His arms shook under him, bending at the elbows. 

Tears filled his eyes as he tried to push through, but the effort only made the head spread out his ring further. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't give birth in this position!

Shakily, he sighed and let his arms give. He sank back onto his side, defeated. His belly heaved beside him and a gush of liquid fled his body as the head popped out into his boxers. Fully crowned.

“Ugh.” He winced.

Taking the arm that he wasn't lying on, he reached for the waistband of his boxers, hooking his finger into them. Slowly, he circled the band and pulled. The air in the room felt cold on his wet skin. He sighed in relief as the tight band was pulled off of his hips. Feeling thankful as the pressure decreased. The marks on his skin itched, but he couldn't focus on that. 

As soon as his boxers reached his knees, the baby twisted inside of him. He gasped in surprise, feeling the shoulders sink down. 

For the first time, he gritted his teeth and pushed. His first baby came spilling out of him like it was nothing, falling into his boxers. Immediately, the adrenaline rushed through him and he finally pulled himself up onto his tailbone. 

Reaching down, he grabbed his baby girl and held her in his arms.

“You're… really… impatient…” Julian panted.

His daughter’s cries were loud, but like music to his ears. Tiny tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she curled and worked in his grasp, kicking his tiny legs. 

“It's okay, honey.” He whispered, wiping away her tears. He brought her close to his chest, letting her feel his warmth. Eventually, her cries became soft whimpers as she curled into him. 

He sighed deeply. His legs were still spread wide with the umbilical cord hanging between them, connecting him and his child. 

Carefully, he rubbed her back, soothing her. He threw his head back against the bed, finally letting himself relax. It seemed his next baby wasn't coming yet. Maybe then, he’d have time to bond with his daughter. 

Or-

He whipped his head around, seeing his phone creeping just under the bed. The screen seemed to wink when he remembered that it was there. 

-he could finally call the nurse!

Snatching up the device, he let it scan his fingerprint and he was in. As quickly as he could, he put in three digits that would lead him to his nurse, Anita. 

The line rang for a solid five seconds before she picked up. 

“Genesis service desk. How may I help you?” A calm voice asked. 

“Hello? This is Julian Perez. I just gave birth to my first kid and I need my nurse ASAP.” He said. 

He heard the sound of typing from the other end. “Alright. Who is your nurse?” They asked. 

“Anita Liu.” He replied. 

His answer was followed by more typing. “Okay. You said first. How many babies are you carrying?” The operator asked. 

“Two.” Julian said, wincing as another wave of pain rushed through him. “Hurry! I think the next one’s coming.” He said. 

“Don't worry Mr. Perez. She’ll be there in about seven minutes. Just hang on.” They said. 

“Oka- AUGH!”

This contraction was even stronger than the rest. He couldn't help but push with it as it forced his hand. 

“Mr. Perez?” 

Another burst of fluid vacated his body with a splash, he felt another head slip past his cervix. He wasn't expecting there to be so much, even though he knew that they were Di/di twins.

His water soaked the floor below him. His belly contracted again right after, tightening against him. 

“Shit.”

The head began to spread him out and his hole opened up. Slowly, the baby crawled down his birth canal. 

“Mr. Perez! Are you alright?” The operator asked. 

“Nngh! It's coming!” He cried. 

Amniotic fluid kept leaking from him steadily. His once large belly, shrank and he could see the outline of his womb, clinging to his baby. 

He heard typing on the other side, but he wasn't paying attention, he had to get this baby out. As the second child’s head slipped down, it grazed his prostate. His limp dick twitched as the baby approached his asshole. 

“Oh…” He moaned. 

This baby was bigger than the first, not by much, but since it was being born slowly, it had the chance to fill him up. As it twisted, it's harder points hit his spot and his dick became hard. 

There was no way this was happening. What was going on? How could he be getting hard while he was in pain?

But it was out of his control. He dropped his phone and threw his head back onto the mattress. When he pushed, he felt everything. The head pressed against his opening, challenging the outside world. 

He was so sore, but he was so full. His dick was fully erect now and leaking precum. He gasped at the odd mix of pain and pleasure, forcing his baby downwards. 

But as he did, he just felt more pressure. He touched his belly, it was still hard. He was still stretched from the womb down . There was no way that one baby was that big. 

But another contraction interrupted his train of thought. He curled into himself and pushed. The head slowly pressed him outwards, but barely came out. 

Tiredly, Julian lifted his legs and pulled them back by the knees, pulling himself apart as much as he could. His hole stretched out and forward with the baby.

“Come on!” 

As hard as could, he put his chin to his chest and grunted, growling his baby out to a full crown. 

He gasped for air, feeling his child spreading himself to the widest degree. It didn't even move as he breathed, his body couldn't do much on its own. 

“Mr. Perez, she's on her way.” The operator assured him.

Julian panted, trying to catch his breath. All he could do was nod, even though he knew that the person on the other end couldn't see him. 

He angled his hips upwards and pushed again. With a loud pop, the head burst free. The shoulders turned and popped out of him one by one. 

As the baby’s body was released from his own, he still felt full and pressured. He pushed once more as the feet fell from him and another head suddenly gushed out of him with a splash of fluid. 

He gasped in surprise as he finally spilled over, cumming onto his still swollen belly. The head hung in his battered hole, the smallest of his babies. He barely even had to push before both shoulders exploded from him. 

His whole lower body throbbed from the effort, as his final baby slipped out from inside of him. Two boys lay between his legs as he held his daughter close. 

“Oh my God.” He said, shuddering from exhaustion. 

How had they missed his son's twin? Was it because he was so small? 

He reached for his oldest son and held him as he screamed and cried. His third child lay face up, reaching up towards him.

A stray tear ran down Julian’s face as he realized that he couldn't hold all three of them at once. It felt cruel that he only had two arms. He didn't want his baby to be alone, he needed him. 

Carefully, he lifted his daughter onto the bed and reached for his youngest. As soon as the little baby felt his warmth, his cries quieted. He leaned into his father as if he was trying to absorb him. 

His first pregnancy and he had already had triplets. The next ten years were going to be wild ones. He could already imagine what Genesis would have him do next. 

As he sat with his children, he heard the front door open and footsteps coming from down the hall. Just a few minutes too late, Anita skidded into the room, her green eyes wide with surprise. 

“Julian! Are you okay?” She asked. 

Julian nodded. “We’re okay.” He said. 

“I’ll be right back, just hang on. You still need to get the placentas out.” She said. 

Quickly, she ran to the bathroom, leaving Julian alone with his babies once more. He stared blankly at the doorway, exhausted. He had completely forgotten about that part.