Imagine You're Pregnant

PLEASE READ GUIDE BEFORE SUBMITTING!This is an anonymous submission blog for pregnancy fetish stories. All publications are anonymous entries, and we do not publish author names or aliases unless requested.

[imagineyourepregnant]

Welcome to IYP!

PLEASE READ GUIDE BEFORE SUBMITTING! This is an anonymous submission blog for pregnancy fetish stories. While I might submit my own stories here and there, this is a SUBMISSION blog. All of the stories on here are written by followers. All publications are anonymous entries, and we do not publish author names or aliases unless requested.

All stories must be 18+. We do not accept ANY underage sexual content and your story will not be posted if we think it does not follow the rules.

All stories MUST contain pregnancy or pregnancy like themes. This is a pregnancy blog. Stories that contain only a mention of pregnancy at the end will be deleted unless there is a clear sequel already uploaded.

Edit: content written using AI is not accepted on this blog and will be deleted from the inbox. Please do not use AI. AI is theft.

If you have questions, you can absolutely submit an ask. However, I ask that you kindly read the Guide/FAQ (linked above) before asking your questions or submitting your requests/stories.

As always, please remember that everyone here is human. The Mods are human, and so are the people who write and submit to this blog. Anon hate will not be tolerated. Rude comments will be deleted.

If you would like to see more content from certain authors, consider leaving a comment on their story or an ask if you want to be anonymous. The best way to get more content is to provide authors with praise.

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[imagineyourepregnant]

Sunday Poll/Update

Hi everyone! Once again, very sorry for my absence. I’m still here, I’m still seeing your requests and stories and I promise I will be updating them. Just not sure when. But since I have time to write this one out, and Sundays are my poll days, I figured I would drop a fun poll in here.

Part of the reason I’ve been gone is…I BOUGHT A HOUSE! Somehow, miraculously, I managed something I’ve been wanting to do FOREVER. And since it’s a bit of an older house, I have been over there doing repairs pretty much every day, other than during work hours. My parents are very kind enough to help me out with the big stuff, but it’s slow going.

That being said though, I want to make this place the most whimsy-filled house ever and I need ideas! So please, let me know some good tips and your favorite colors, and generally just some ideas for the place! Thank you all and love you! I will be back soon!

-ModB

More whimsy ideas!

Fun paint colors/murals (there’s already a lovely yellow accent wall)

More birdhouses! (I have 4)

Plants! (I struggle keeping these alive 😭)

Fairy gardens! (Want want want!)

Something else! (PLEASEE give me ideas)

Voting ended onJun 7

[imagineyourepregnant]

Alien Eggs - Continuation

I am once again back with another continuation of this story, when I really thought I was done with it. But the brain writes what the brain wants I suppose. Sorry this is incredibly long, but I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. (PS: If there's interest, I might write more from one of the other brother's POV)

As always, please enjoy! Written by @pregnancyismykink :)

(Part 1) (Prequel) (Sequel)

**

College isn’t easy. Which isn’t really a surprising realization, but you just thought it would be more…fun? The only thing keeping you entertained now though is watching your neighbor come back home in the afternoons. 

He’s so tall, his shoulders broader than your entire body, and the gray sweatpants he frequently wears make you weak in the knees. You can hardly see his full form through the peephole of your apartment door, and honestly, you’d give anything for him to wrap those massive hands around your waist just once.

The only thing you’ve never seen though is his face. He always wears a hoodie, pulled up over his head, keeping his face hidden from your view. It’s frustrating, every single time. But you know one day you’ll get to see it. You will make sure of it. 

He sticks to a schedule so it makes it easy to predict his moves. Creepy, yes. But you blame it on the insanity of college life. 

It’s been a few months and you have yet to see his face, going so far as to leave your apartment just as he gets home, trying your damnedest to catch a glimpse, but to no avail. 

You almost give up, disappointed and frustrated, but then one night there’s a thud next door, loud and heavy and you sit up fast. Did he just pass out?

Without even thinking about it, you scramble out of bed and out of your apartment, wearing nothing but your sheer nightgown. You bang your fist on the door, calling out for him, but there’s no reply. 

Heart racing, stomach twisting into knots, you debate calling the police. They could break the door down and hopefully save the person on the other side. Or maybe they would be too late. You bang on the door again, yanking at the door handle but it’s locked. Panic starts to set in and you are 2 steps back to your own apartment when the click of the lock opening sounds, the door creaking open. 

Surprised relief floods through you and you move back to the door, finding a man…well, a husk of one. He looks awfully sick. He’s pale, sweaty, his eyes unfocused and his fingers shake despite being wrapped tight around the doorframe. He looks so miserable you can’t even rejoice in the fact that you’re finally seeing his face. 

“Oh my god, are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance? Or the police?”

The man shivers, his eyes unfocused and squinted, and you give him a once over, surprised to find his whole body trembling. He shakes his head, barely, but you don’t trust him.

“You look really sick. Are you sure I can’t help you with anything?” 

You move closer, reaching up to feel his forehead but he jerks away, losing his footing and falls to the floor. Again. 

He groans, tense and shivering, and you stand in the doorway, suddenly unsure if you’re welcome or not. In the end, you decide to say fuck it. You can’t leave him like this. 

“Let me at least help you back to your bed.”

The man is so out of it he doesn’t even protest as you step inside, closing the door behind you. 

He’s big, so much bigger than the other guys on campus, and honestly would be quite attractive if he wasn’t so sick. But…he’s massive. And you’re, well, not. 

He doesn’t move to get away, or at all really, so you kneel by him and place a hand on his chest. He lets out a pained whimper, his hand suddenly clamping around your wrist, surprisingly strong. His heart thunders under your clammy fingers. 

“You’re really not well. Come on, let’s get to the bed at least.” It’s a miracle you manage to keep your voice steady.

He opens his eyes just enough for you to see the shimmer of green, but you look away as you wrap your arms under his armpits, feeling the muscles in his back bunch even tighter at the touch. You ignore that for the moment, brace yourself, count in your head, and then you lift. 

You strain yourself, not really realizing how heavy he would truly be, but you manage to get him sitting up and leaning against the wall, his head lolling slightly. The shirt he’s wearing is soaked through with sweat, his hair much the same. His cologne tickles your nose, despite the desperate scene.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?”

He shakes his head, barely lucid. “Can’t…help…”

The words are slurred and barely audible.

You hesitate before reaching out to place a hand on his forehead, feeling the heat radiating off of him. He doesn’t jerk away from the touch this time. In fact, his whole body relaxes and slumps sideways, nearly falling face first to the floor. 

You scramble to hold his shoulders, keeping him from toppling all the way over. 

“Can I? Help?”

He moans, a pitiful sound, and opens his eyes. For the first time since you found him in a heap on the floor, he seems actually aware, like he’s just caught on that you’re trying to help. 

“Why?” he rasps out. 

You’re taken aback by the question, but…you suppose it makes sense. It’s not like you guys have ever talked before. You just watched his every move. Like a totally normal person. 

“Because I want to. You don’t look well and if you won’t let me call an ambulance, then maybe I can help. Or I can at least call someone else for you if you’d like? A brother, sister, mom or dad? Someone?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again. “All too far. Can’t help.”

He slumps a little more and you tighten your grip on his shoulders before he falls…again. He jerks at your touch, his brow pinching and a low moan slips from his lips. The sound sends a thrill through your stomach, making you warm. It isn’t a sound you typically hear from a nearly dead person. 

“What…exactly do you need help with?” you ask, suddenly unsure.

His fists flex at his sides, his jaw clenching. He seems to be weighing his options. To tell you or not…

His breathing is heavy when he answers. “I need to lay.”

You raise a brow, not understanding.

“Lay? Like you need to lay down?”

He shakes his head, a bead of sweat dripping over his temple. 

“Lay eggs. If I don’t lay soon, I’ll die.”

If it wasn’t for the way his entire body was trembling, you’d think he was joking. 

“And you can’t…lay…because?”

He peeks through slitted eyes. “Because I need a willing host.”

You’re suddenly struck with the realization of what he needs…and also with how much you want to be the one to help. You may be a virgin but the internet exists, and the rabbit holes you’ve found yourself getting lost in…the very ones full of creatures that weren’t supposed to exist…

“Okay. Let me help.”

You try to hide the excitement in your voice, but he must hear it because he stills, his jaw dropping, his eyes opening fully again. 

“You’re serious?”

You blush, knowing how insane it is to agree to this with someone you barely know, and nod your head, smiling. “Very. Tell me how I can help.”

He’s taken aback, clearly surprised by your eagerness, but his need to lay must take over because he nods, fumbling with the drawstring on his sweats. 

“Help me get these off. I would take you to the bed but I don’t think I can move…”

You nod, unable to contain your excitement. Your fingers wrap around the waistband of his pants and you pull, noting the struggle it takes for him to lift his hips. By the time you get his pants off, you’re disappointed to find there’s nothing there. Nothing you expected at least. 

But before you can even voice your concern, his hand grabs yours and places it between his legs. Your mouth opens again, a question on the tip of your tongue, and then something wriggles under your fingers. You glance down and then smile at the thin pink tentacle thing poking between your fingers. 

“That’s cute,” you whisper, giggling, watching the tentacle wrap around your fingers playfully. But his hand tightens around yours, all seriousness as he barely manages to sit up and push you down onto your back.

“It gets bigger,” he whispers, voice strained, his breath brushing over your face at the close distance between your faces. 

You look up and blush, mouth agape at the massive size of the man above you, heat radiating off his body enough to make you sweat. 

With trembling fingers, he runs his large hands over your thighs, lifting the hem of your nightgown over your waist, and then over your head, leaving you bare on his apartment floor.

“You promise?” you ask, breathless.

He nods, his eyes raking over your nude form as he pulls your underwear off in one swift motion. “I promise.”

He takes just enough time to get his shirt off, his chest broad and gorgeous, his stomach muscles clenching visibly, and then he’s at your throat, his tongue licking over your pulse like a man starving. The first press of his tentacle member makes you twitch, your hips pressing up closer, needing it so much more than you thought. 

He settles heavily between your legs, his face buried between your neck and shoulder, and you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, drawing him closer, needing it desperately. You’ve been imagining this man between your legs for months, and now…it’s actually happening. 

“Brace yourself,” he says, his heated breath brushing over your throat, and you grin.

You drag your nails over his back and he moans, his whole body tensing on top of you, his cock getting thicker and thicker as it continues to press inside. Your hips buck and his hand clamps down on your waist, keeping you still. 

“This won’t last long if you keep that up,” he gasps out. His fingers are so long, so gorgeously long, and you want them everywhere.

“Then hurry up,” you moan in response, pressing up against him again. He shudders, a pitiful moan slipping from his lips, but he does as you ask. He thrusts his hips in a slow, lazy rhythm, stretching you out as his cock continues to grow. 

It’s so warm and deliciously large, much bigger than any of your toys, and he presses against every amazing sweet spot. His tongue dances over your throat and you let your head fall back against the floor, the pleasure so hot and intense.

There’s a sharp pain inside you when he breaches your cervix but it’s immediately soothed by some thick gel pumping into you. You’ve heard that it’s actually supposed to be painful for men to push this far, but this? This is amazing. You can feel him stretching you out so easily, molding your body to his needs. It’s perfect. 

He continues his sloppy, slow thrusts until suddenly he gasps and tenses, tiny whimpers escaping him, his hot breaths falling over your throat. You brush your fingers through his hair and he snaps his hips, making you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming in so many ways. You feel him stretch more, feel your slit expand around the first egg, and you cum hard, harder than you ever have before. 

Your fingers scramble for a hold, gripping the massive muscles bulging on his back. Chest heaving, you can’t help but cry out as the first egg slips past your tight lips. You feel it the entire time, the stretching, the heavy egg moving through you until it pushes past your cervix and settles into your uterus. 

His hand tightens on your hip as you squeeze around him, milking him for more. He grunts and then each one comes faster than the next, practically falling into you with every passing second, and after a few more desperate thrusts, he collapses on top of you, your stomach swollen and heavy. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp out, chest heaving, body humming with release. “That was…that was amazing.”

He shudders and lifts himself up on his hands, looking down at you with a strange yet fond look, sweat dotting his brow. His skin is darker now, less pale, his eyes more focused. 

“What?” you ask, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist, not even sure if you could move them if you wanted to. 

He shakes his head, his eyes prettier than they were before, his brown curls falling over his forehead. “Nothing, it’s just…you surprised me is all.”

You grin and wrap your hands over his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, watching how his eyes flutter at the touch. 

“What would you have done without me?” you ask. You’re actually really curious because if it was as bad as he was saying…

“Probably would’ve died. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d die if I didn’t lay.” 

He looks down, shifts his hips and wraps an arm under your waist, holding you still as he slowly pulls out, the friction making you shiver.

“I’m glad you didn’t die.”

His eyes lift to yours and a small smile graces his face. “Me too.”

Something warm fills your gut and you know, without a doubt, that you’ll regret it if you never speak to this man again.

“What’s your name?”

He smirks and sits up, bringing you with him so you’re sitting in his lap, arms still wrapped over his shoulders. 

“Vislos. And yours?”

You tell him and he nods, lifting you up with him as he stands, his hands holding your waist with ease. Feeling his muscles bulge under your fingers makes you warm all over again, especially as the added weight around your middle settles. It’s heavy but amazing, something new. 

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

The question catches you off guard, but you shake your head. It’s a Sunday and the only plans you ever made on Sundays was to clean. 

“Good.”

“Good?”

He nods, a sly grin on his face. “If you’re up for it, I want to fuck you again while I’m lucid.”

You don’t get a chance to answer before his lips smother yours, his hands much stronger now, and his body deliciously heavy against yours. He guides you to what is probably his bedroom, considering the layout is just like yours but flipped, but also you couldn’t care less. 

A door closes but you’re caught up in the feeling of his hands on your bare ass, his tongue buried in your mouth. You barely notice as he pushes you into the shower, pressing you up against the wall as the hot water starts cascading down his back, making you moan. 

He practically consumes you, marking every inch of your body and you let him, wanting to be claimed. Wanting this so bad. And he doesn’t disappoint. 

“Stay the night? Please?” he begs, his bright green eyes peeking at you through sinfully long lashes. 

You don’t even hesitate to nod, wanting to feel his strong arms wrapped around you as much as you can. And not to mention, you still had so many questions. But those could wait. 

His smile makes you melt, his eyes sparkling now with a new life. And as he kisses his way down your body, his tongue finding the sensitive nub of your clit, you’re pretty sure your own eyes are shining with new life too. 

**

“Where are you from?”

Vislos raises a brow, looking down at you from where he’s laying back against the headboard. You’d both showered and fell into bed naked, wrapped around each other. And you were currently enjoying the feeling of his strong arm wrapped around you, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“That’s where you want to start the questions?”

You shrug, running a finger over his pec and smirking when it twitches. “I have several. I figured one at a time would be easier.”

He huffs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I was born on Earth. My mother is human.”

You hum, looking up through your lashes. “And your father?”

He nods, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “From somewhere far away. Somewhere I’ve never seen and probably never will.” 

“How many eggs did you lay?”

He smirks now, shifting his arm to pull you closer. 

“At least 50. The longer we wait, the more we lay.” 

50 eggs. That many. And they all fit inside you. 

“And when do I…uhhh, lay them I guess?” You weren’t really sure of the proper terminology. 

“It varies for the first time, especially for human women. But I would guess a week or so.”

A week…

“Wait, I have classes. How am I supposed to go to school looking like this?” you ask, sitting up, suddenly very aware of how large your belly is. It isn’t like a full term pregnant belly, but it is big enough to be obvious. Big enough to make you feel like it’s real…

“You can still go to your classes. I have a sweatshirt you can wear. It’ll cover you enough.” The pleased smile on his face doesn’t escape you though. 

You look down at yourself, down at the swell of your middle. “Will they make babies? Do I have 50 babies incubating inside of me?”

He chuckles, sitting forward now too, pulling you into his lap until you’re straddling him. His hands are so big they almost cover your entire ass. 

“No. You have 50 unfertilized eggs inside you. Probably about the size of oranges. You’ll lay them in a week or so and then we will discard them.”

The disappointment you feel at that comes as a surprise. Not even one child out of this mess. Would he even stick around long enough to try for one later? Maybe when you’ve finished your classes?

“Are you…upset?” he asks hesitantly, his eyes roaming over your face. 

His hands brush up over your waist, calming you easily. He’s so warm, his body so much larger than your own. If you stood next to him, he’d likely be at least a head and a half taller than you. 

“No. Not really? I guess I was just kind of surprised they were all unfertilized.”

His brow raises and you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m relieved more than anything. I still want to finish school before trying to settle down. And my parents would not like the idea of me dropping out because I’m pregnant.”

You dig your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and his lips fall open, his hands tightening around your waist. His eyes grow distant and you watch as a flush covers his cheeks.

“Are you always this sensitive?” you ask, impressed by how easily he responds to your touch. 

Vislos clears his throat, his eyes clearing, focusing back on you. “Um, for the most part, yes. There are certain areas on our bodies that are more sensitive than others, but still more so for us than for humans.”

You hum, a small smile spreading across your lips, and Vislos’ brows crease. 

“What are you thinking?”

You shake your head, looking like the ever innocent school girl, even as your fingers move to brush over his shoulders. 

“Oh nothing,” you croon out, letting your fingers drift lower, brushing over his chest. His pecs jump at the contact, and his breath hitches. You lightly run the pad of your finger over one of his nipples, and he jerks, letting out a guttural moan. 

“Liar,” he gasps out, but he doesn’t move to get away. Doesn’t push you off of his lap. In fact, the way his eyes flutter and his lips fall open, you can tell he wants more. 

“I’m just curious,” you say softly, letting your fingers drift lower and lower, brushing over the ridges of his abs, clearly well defined but still cushioned. 

“Isn’t there a saying about curiosity killing cats?” he gasps out, his hands moving from your waist to the sheets. 

His voice is hoarse, his breathing heavy, the muscles in his arms bulging from gripping the bed sheets so hard. Despite trying poorly to hide it, you can see the way his body pushes closer, wanting you to keep going. 

“There is,” you answer, feeling yourself grow warmer at the realization of how much you affect him. “Curiosity killed the cat, but,” you pause, looking back into his eyes, “satisfaction brought it back.”

You place your hand between his legs and his whole body jerks, his head falling back against the headboard, a loud thud echoing around the room. His mouth falls open and a deliciously sinful moan falls from his lips, wrapping around you and making you shiver with need. 

Just as you’d hoped, the little tentacle comes out to play once more, the thin pink thing wrapping over your fingers playfully. It’s almost like it has a mind of its own, twirling around your fingers and pressing between them. 

“Amazing.”

Vislos groans, his whole body tense and rigid as you play with the little tentacle. His stomach muscles clench, his thighs tighten as he holds himself still. 

“Can you…can we…again?” you ask, breathless at the beautiful man in front of you nearly broken from your touch alone. It sends a thrill down your back. 

He takes a deep breath, muttering something under his breath, and then his hands are back on your waist, his eyes focused fully on your face.

“Like this?” he asks, breathless, his chest heaving. 

You nod, wanting to watch his face. Wanting to see it all clearly this time around. 

He groans but nods, shifting himself to lay back against the pillows and lifts his legs, pressing his knees up behind you, shifting you forward so you’re straddling the little tentacle. It plays in your slick heat, rubbing over your slick lips, brushing over your clit and makes you gasp and jerk. 

It finally stops messing around and you lean forward, bracing your hands on Vislos’ chest, feeling it explore deeper inside you, curious instead of desperate this time. 

“Will you lay more eggs?” you ask, barely able to get the question out through the arousal shoving through you.

Vislos shakes his head, his jaw clenched, his fingers tight around your hips. 

“Already laid them all,” he gasps out. “Won’t have more for a week.”

You nod and bounce softly, wanting more. He must want more too because the tentacle starts pushing faster, slithering through your tight pussy.  

He shivers and looks up at you, his eyes shining with desire and need and something else you can’t read. His hands flex, squeezing your hips and then he’s brushing them up over the heavy swell of your middle, then up to cup your breasts, a perfect handful for each hand. 

He pinches your nipples and you gasp, squeezing around him. His hips jerk and you grin, shifting to hold onto the headboard instead. 

“Keep up,” you challenge, and his eyes sparkle with mirth as you start to bounce, taking control. And he just lets you, watching your heavy form from below, his eyes wandering and devouring your every move. His hands continue to wander, feeling every inch of your skin. You’re so suddenly hit by the realization that this man could be yours if you wanted, that you could have everything you wanted and then some. 

With renewed vigor, you take control and pleasure yourself, already planning on how to make this permanent.

**

Turns out though, you don’t have to try very hard. You stayed at his place Sunday night too, but Monday morning was a rude reminder that you had to go back to your everyday life. To normal. 

You thought he would leave it at that, only revisit you later when it was time to lay and discard the eggs incubating inside you, but he surpassed your every expectation by cooking you breakfast, offering to drop you off at school, and even bringing you lunch when you told him you forgot yours. 

He was doting, kind, and even funny, making you laugh at the stupidest jokes. By the end of the week, you felt like you’d known him for years. He knew what foods you liked, what you disliked, paid attention when you talked, and honestly…he was perfect. 

Saturday morning, he comes over to cook breakfast, using the extra key you gave him to get into your apartment. He finds you in bed, slips under the covers and wraps himself around you, kissing the back of your neck in greeting. 

You groan, smiling as he shuffles closer. 

“Hmm, morning,” you hum. 

“Morning,” comes his muffled reply. He wraps his arm under your swollen middle, tucking himself up against your back as close as he can. Big spoon isn’t enough to describe how his body practically smothers you. 

“What’s for breakfast?” you ask, running your hand down his arm and linking your fingers with his. 

He nuzzles into you, his breath hot and heavy against the back of your neck. 

“Bacon and avocado toast. Also fruit and some breakfast potatoes.” 

You hum again, already feeling your stomach starting to growl. You’re starving. 

“Get cooking then,” you command, but neither one of you move. He only buries himself closer, trapping you in his arms. At least until your stomach growls loud enough for the both of you to hear. 

You sigh and he chuckles, shifting and slipping out of bed, but not before he leaves a kiss on your temple and a light pat on your ass. You grin and watch as he disappears out of the bedroom door, his ass looking mighty fine in those sweatpants. 

You take your time getting up, stretching and slowly sitting up, adjusting to the early morning hour. The shower is calling your name so you climb out of bed, shuffle to the bathroom, and take your time lavishing your body with soap. 

Your belly has grown some over the last week, a side effect of the eggs absorbing the food you’ve been eating. At least, that’s what Vislos says. You don’t mind, even if it means the sweatshirt he gave you barely covers the bump now. 

Turns out people in college just don’t care. Nobody pays any attention to you, nor do they mention anything about the swell of your middle, even though you wear a sweatshirt in the summer. Even your friends haven’t noticed anything wrong. Well, they’ve noticed that you’re different, but you easily distracted them by telling them all about the new buff boyfriend you acquired entirely by accident.

The details stay secret, but that doesn’t mean you can’t gush to them about how doting and amazing he is, and how much you want him to be yours forever. They laugh and call you a simp but it doesn’t matter. You know deep down, Vislos is the real simp in this relationship. 

By the time you step out of the shower, the smell of bacon and potatoes calls to you, dragging you from the bathroom before you’ve even dried off properly. 

Vislos is there, in your kitchen, dressed in a simple yet sinful pair of gray sweats and a long sleeve t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His hair is a mess, his curls sticking out in several directions, like he forgot to brush it this morning, and you smile softly to yourself, watching as he painstakingly cuts the fruit into little slices and places them artfully on the plate. It’s endearing how much he cares for the small things. 

You take a few more minutes to wrap a robe around yourself, and then you shuffle into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his back, taking a deep whiff of his cologne. 

He straightens, putting the knife in the sink and turns, facing you, face soft. “Breakfast is ready.”

He looks so happy, so delighted to be doing this for you…

“Thank you.”

He grins and nods, turning you around as he guides you to the table where a rather large buffet of items await. All of your favorite fruits, your bacon cooked extra crispy just how you like it, the potatoes still steaming in their dish. Your stomach growls again and he grins.

“Eat up. You need all the energy you can get.”

You nod, too hungry to disagree. Not that you wanted to anyway. 

“You’ll probably lay the eggs soon. You’re showing signs,” he adds as he sits across from you. 

You don’t even know what that means, ‘showing signs’, but you don’t care. 

“Will you lay eggs in me again once they’re gone?” you ask after taking a large bite of your avocado toast. 

He looks a little taken aback by the question, choking a bit on the bacon he’d just eaten, but nods earnestly. “If you’ll allow me to. It’s best to lay weekly.”

You hum around a mouthful of potatoes. “I would like that. I can help you for as long as you want. Or…until you find someone else…”

The thought puts a sour taste in your mouth, but the sudden dazzling smile on Vislos’ face distracts you from the idea. 

He wipes his mouth off and slips from the chair, moving to kneel in front of you, his hands wrapping around your own in your lap. He’s looking at your belly as he speaks. 

“It’s not easy finding someone like you. My father was lucky to find my mother, and I am incredibly lucky to have found you.” 

There’s a warmth growing in your middle as he speaks. 

“So, if you’ll have me, I should very much like to stay. And take care of you for as long as you allow it.”

The sheer devotion on his face, the unhindered truth he lets bleed into his words…it leaves you breathless. 

“I promise I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

The gentle words are so at contrast with the strong, heavily built man kneeling before you, but yet…they ring true. Without a doubt, you know this man will make you the happiest woman in the world. 

**

“Can you hand me the tape?”

The ribbon hanging from your fingers sways slightly in the heat blowing from the unit, and Vislos does as you ask, passing the tape up to you while keeping a protective hand on your ankle. 

He hadn’t exactly been happy about you climbing the ladder, but you’d insisted and he relented, albeit reluctantly. 

Christmas is and always has been your absolute favorite holiday, and though you don’t have much, you always decorate. 

You finish taping the ribbon up, leaning back to make sure it’s level, and then clap your hands together, content with the placement. Vislos’ hand never leaves your leg, his fingers tight around your calf, and you smile, nodding down at him. 

“It’s perfect. Help me down.”

He doesn’t even hesitate to lift you off the ladder and place you gently on your feet, his fingers tight around your waist. You’re pretty sure this is the first time he’s taken a breath since you climbed the ladder. 

“Do you like it?” you ask, looking up at the lights and ribbons hanging over the window in your bedroom. The colors pair well with the tree and stockings in the living room. 

Vislos wraps his arms around your middle, his hand cupping the swell of your newest batch of eggs, and nods. 

“I like it much better now that you’re back on the floor.”

You scoff and slap his arm, but a smile tugs at your lips. His concern is nice. Makes you feel loved. 

“I can’t believe it’s been 5 months. Christmas break could not have come any faster.”

With final exams, studying, and just the general chaos of the end of year college preparations, Vislos hadn't laid his eggs in you for three whole weeks. And for those three weeks, you had both been miserable. You with your studying, and him trying to cope with his body readjusting to having to wait to lay. 

He never got as bad as the first time you met, but he’d been getting paler, weaker, napping more often. You knew it was affecting him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. The night you came home from your last exam, you found him knocked out on the couch, snoring softly. You just curled up into him and he wrapped himself around you, warm and comfortable. 

Now though, he looks lively as ever, his skin back to that dark tan you love so much. And the sparkle in his eyes is finally back. That’s what you’ve missed the most. 

“Do you celebrate Christmas?”

He looks down at you, his thumbs absently rubbing over the sides of your belly. “Not in the same sense as you. But I do usually go home and eat with my parents and brothers.”

You nod, resting your head back against his chest as his thumbs continue to make small little circles over the sides of your stomach. 

“Will I ever meet them?”

He nods, no hesitation. “If you’d like to. I had planned on going to visit them for the holiday, but you needed me more.”

The admission makes your gut warm, a growing fondness you only felt for him. 

“Maybe one day we can go visit. I’d like to meet them.” 

He hums softly, his hips swaying side to side.

“Fine with me. Just let me know when. I’ll call them and let them know.”

You relax into his arms, leaning back against him, and think back to when you’d first met, on the floor of the next door apartment. You still can’t believe it’s only been 5 months. It feels like years. 

“How would you feel about meeting my parents? I know it’s still early but…”

He pulls himself to full height and turns you around, pulling you into his front, a soft smile on his lips. 

“I’d love to. Just tell me when.”

You raise a brow up at him, holding his biceps. 

“Really? Just like that?”

He shrugs, shoulders bunching. 

“I’ll do anything for you. Especially if it’ll make you happy.”

If you were really pregnant, you’d probably be a sobbing mess on the floor from that comment. Even so, you’re still fairly close to tears at such an easy declaration of love. 

“Anything?” You ask, even if only to distract yourself from the intensity of your feelings for this man. 

It’s his turn to raise a brow now, looking down at you suspiciously. 

“Yes, anything. But don’t go getting any funny ideas,” he teases, lightly flicking your nose. 

You scrunch your nose up at him and he leans in to kiss it, playfully slapping your butt. 

“What are we going to do during your precious time off from school?” he asks, changing the subject. 

You sigh, laying your forehead on his chest. 

“I can think of a few things.”

“You can’t possibly want to do that every night for the entire break.”

“Why? Don’t think you’ll be able to keep up?”

He scoffs, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close. 

“I don’t think I’m the one with the stamina issues.”

“Psh, I’m not the one who fell asleep after one round.”

He groans and pinches your butt, making you yelp. 

“That’s not fair and you know it. There were extenuating circumstances.”

You laugh, looking up at him with your chin on his chest. 

“You’re right. It’s my fault you had to wait that long again. I’m sorry.”

His face softens and he cups your cheeks, pushing them together and turning your head side to side. 

“I already told you there was no need for apologies. I survived, and you passed, that’s what matters.”

You sigh and nod…or at least you try to with his hands still cupping your cheeks. He seems satisfied with the response though and leans in for a kiss, slow and sensual, making your legs grow weak. 

“Why don’t you start with a bath? You can use your new soap,” he suggests, and it’s the best idea you’ve ever heard. 

**

The steam of the bath fills the bathroom and you sigh, enjoying the heated water easing the tense muscles of your back. The weight around your middle is heavier than usual since he laid more eggs this time around. 

You run your fingers over the bump, letting the soap drip off your fingers as you imagine what it would be like if it was real. If you were really pregnant, carrying a new life inside of you. You’re surprised to find that you actually want that. That you want to feel the swell of your middle harden, to watch it contract as you push out your first of hopefully many children…

“What are you thinking about?”

Vislos interrupts your thoughts as he steps into the room and sits at the edge of the tub, his fingers resting on the knee that’s poking out of the water. 

You smile and lean back, watching the man you love admire the heavy swell of your middle. 

“Seeing you naked,” you answer, watching his face scrunch adorably. 

“You see me naked nearly every day you heathen.”

You laugh then, reaching up to grab his hand, pulling it into the water and placing it on top of your belly. 

His smile softens and his fingers spread over the underside of your belly, his thumb brushing softly over the side. 

“You’re close.”

You nod, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on your body. You can recognize the signs now, and can tell when you’re getting closer to laying. It isn’t so much a guessing game anymore. 

“Wanna join me?”

His eyes lift to yours and he nods, not even hesitating to stand and strip out of his clothes. You watch, unashamed. 

His muscles shift and twitch as he kicks off his pants and you stare at his tentacle playfully poking out between his legs, raising a brow up at him. He looks back down at you with a smirk. 

“You’re hot. I can’t help it.”

The comment makes you snort, shaking your head in disappointment even as you sit up and allow him to shift into the bath behind you. His thighs wrap around your sides and his whole body envelops you, making you even warmer than before. 

He settles and the water just barely sloshes over the edge of the tub, making you sigh.

“You’re too big for this.”

He just grins, wrapping his arms around you, his hands rubbing the sides of your extended belly.

“That’s not what you said the other night.”

You roll your eyes, stifling your smile.

“And you call me a heathen.” 

He hums softly, his chest warm and heavy against your back.

“As I recall, you were the one undressing me every second you got.”

“I don’t remember you refusing,” you refute, slapping at his hand as his fingers wander to your breast. 

“How could I? When you look so delectable like this.”

He nips at the shell of your ear and you bite back a groan, not wanting to encourage him. He seems to dislike that though and he does it again, this time ignoring your warning and squeezing your heavy breasts. 

You let out a soft sigh, unable to hold it back, and you can feel his grin on the back of your neck.

“Bastard.”

“Yes but only your bastard.”

You shake your head, giving up on trying to keep him away. You didn’t want him to stop anyway. 

He took advantage of your defeat, now running his hands over your whole body, your breasts, your stomach, and then between your legs, pressing a few fingers into you.

You sigh and let your head fall back against his shoulder, enjoying the playful yet pleasurable way his fingers move. You’re close to orgasm when you feel a shift, somewhere deep inside you. 

“The eggs are coming,” you gasp softly, already feeling the heat and pleasure starting to build. His fingers stop moving though and you whine.

“Do you want to stop?”

The sentiment was nice, but there was nothing you wanted more than to lay these eggs in this tub while his fingers continued to move sinfully over your body. 

“Never.”

He huffs, his fingers moving again. “Good.”

**

It takes all of 30 minutes to lay the 12 eggs Vislos had planted inside you. With the help of several orgasms, it was a breeze. Vislos, horny as he is though, doesn’t waste the time pleasuring you even more. 

As you pushed, he played with your clit, slow at first and then speeding up, moving to the rhythm of the eggs stretching you open and then falling into the water of the tub. Their light green shells matched the beautiful green of his eyes and once again you’re left thinking about what it would be like to have children with him. 

Would they be like him? Would they look like him? Would they have any of your features? What would their personality be like? Vislos showed you pictures last week of his family, and his father’s features were more prominent, but you could still see his mother in his eyes.  

 Vislos and Eze both look much like their father, the broad builds and tanned skin. Uma though, he looks far more like his mother. Despite only being a few years apart, Uma looks so vastly different from the two, it's surprising to you that they’re related. 

The thought of giving that to Vislos, of providing a child that he could take care of and raise, that he could protect and dote on, it ached in your chest. You want it so badly. 

“There you go again, looking off into the distance. Are you still imagining me naked?”

You huff, your thoughts interrupted again. 

“No. Not this time.”

Vislos must hear the change in your tone because he stops running his hands over your now flat stomach, shifting slightly so he can look at you. 

“Are you ok?”

You smile at him and nod, lifting your soapy hand from the water and cupping his cheek. He accepts your kiss, his eyes going distant for a split second before zoning back in on you. 

“I just…I was thinking about what it would be like to have a child for real. Not right now of course,” you hurriedly add. You want to finish school first. “But later, down the line. We could settle down, have one or two kids, move to the mountains like your parents.”

He doesn’t say anything but his eyes are watery when you look back up at him, and you sit up, turning to straddle his lap as best you can in the confines of the tub. 

“What’s wrong? Did I say something? We don’t have to, I was just—“

“I’d like that,” he says softly, cutting you off with a finger to your lips. As goofy as he usually is, he knows when to be serious, and it always makes your heart jump in your chest. 

“Really?”

He nods, the most breathtaking smile on his face. 

“Of course. I want that more than you’ll ever know.”

Now your own eyes grow watery and you lean in closer, resting your forehead on his. You close your eyes and just breathe in, the scent of the lavender soap filling your nose. 

“When I finish school. I have a year and a half left. But I’m willing, if you are. Please,” you add, wanting him to realize just how serious you are about this. 

His fingers wrap around your waist tight, holding you still as he nods, his face splotchy with unshed tears. 

“I love you.”

**

The rest of winter break consists of you and Vislos enjoying your time together. He somehow manages to connect your switch to the tv and you both play Mario Kart and Overcooked, arguing louder than probably necessary when he knocks you off the rainbow road and arguing more when he doesn’t chop the veggies fast enough. 

It never gets heated though. He’s competitive, impressively so, but he never acts petty or annoyed when he loses. At least not that you can tell. 

You rarely leave the apartment, if only for groceries, and most of the time it’s just Vislos going to the corner store about a block from the apartment building. 

You force him to watch Hallmark Christmas movies, enjoying the disgust on his face every time the big city woman leaves her big time money husband for the small town country farmboy. He makes you hot chocolate, with marshmallows and cinnamon just how you like it, and then he lets you curl up into his side, smothered in big fluffy blankets. 

You could probably live on this couch forever. Here, with him, basking in his warmth and his gentle comfort, you’re content. Happy. Incredibly so. But school starts back in 2 days and you’re not ready for this to be over yet. 

He absentmindedly runs his fingers over your shoulder, brows furrowed as he watches the woman on the screen fumble through her monologue. You’re warm, full of hot chocolate, and his fingers send a thrill down your back with every stroke. 

You shift, putting your mug on the table, and pretend to get more comfortable. He keeps watching the movie, even as you tuck your face into the curve of his neck, and you place a kiss on the sensitive part of his neck, the same spot that always makes him squirm. 

He twitches and his breath hitches. 

“What are you doing?”

His voice is warm and delicious and it sends another thrill through your entire body. 

“Nothing,” you answer, even as you place another kiss on the underside of his jaw. 

He groans and pulls away.

“You heathen. Will you ever be satisfied?” he asks playfully. The flush on his face betrays his desire for you to keep going, and you shrug, running your fingers over the muscle of his thigh. 

“If you can’t keep up…” you tease, your fingers slipping between his legs. 

He raises a brow at the challenge in your voice. 

His tentacle starts moving under his boxers and you grin, satisfied, but he grabs your hand and pulls it away, pulling it to his lips instead. 

“You’ll be the death of me, you know.”

His fingers trail down to your wrist, thumbing your pulse, then he kisses your palm, making you squirm. 

“I think I’m the only thing keeping you alive actually,” you joke, leaning in to put a kiss to his lips. 

His eyes follow you the whole way but he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t even try to stop you. You pull back and his eyes grow soft, a fond smile growing on his lips. 

“In more ways than you’ll ever know,” he answers, leaning in to kiss even deeper.

You melt into his touch, folding so easily as he lays you back on the couch, his thigh slipping between your legs. He settles his weight down on you and kisses over your jaw. 

“Put your eggs in me again, please. I want to feel full again.”

Your voice is hoarse and he shudders, his eyes growing hungry as he pulls away to look at you. 

“You sure? I can go another week if you—“

“I’m sure,” you interrupt, lifting your thigh to brush between his legs. 

His mouth falls open and his eyes squeeze shut, the way he always does when he’s trying to hold himself back. 

“Come on, please? It’s been a week already.” 

His fingers clench around your waist and you can feel them trembling. He’s clearly been waiting for this too. 

He lets out a shuddering sigh and sits up, pushing his boxers to his knees and you squirm with anticipation. 

“Fuck yes.”

He huffs, rolling his eyes at your enthusiasm, but he’s clearly just as eager, his tentacle already inching its way out. 

He takes a moment to slip your sleep shorts off, leaving you bare below the waist, and then he turns you onto your side, slipping behind you. His favorite position. He really likes to feel your stomach swell. 

“Keep still,” he whispers, his breath brushing over the back of your neck as his hand creeps under your shirt, making you twitch. You don’t even realize your hips are moving until he says that. 

“Sorry,” you mutter but he doesn’t bother to respond, his lips already moving over your neck to suck on the disappearing bruise. He likes that too. Leaving marks. 

His calloused fingers brush up against your breast and you let out a breathy moan. His tentacle, warm and wet, slips between your legs, and you lift a leg over Vislos’ thigh. 

It plays with you at first, slipping through your slick folds over and over, teasing you enough to make you whimper. Vislos, the dickhead, is thumbing over your nipple while massaging your breast, his lips doing wonderful things to the back of your neck. It’s just enough to bring you to the edge, but not enough to push you over. 

“I swear to god, you better fuck me before I cum or so help me—“

Vislos chuckles, stuffing two fingers into your mouth and you groan. He presses his hips down into you, effectively crushing you between him and the couch cushion. You debate biting his fingers until that tentacle finally, blessedly, slips into your slick heat. 

It’s so sudden and warm it nearly breaks you, but you breathe through the growing warmth, letting your mouth fall open, your tongue wrapping around his fingers. 

He groans and the sound echoes through you. It’s so needy. 

His hips buck into you and you cry out, unable to move your hips back. He just keeps going, the tentacle pushing and pushing, filling you until finally, you feel that familiar pinching sensation. 

A muffled fuck comes from behind you and a whimper follows as Vislos takes his fingers from your mouth and puts his hand over your stomach instead. His hand is so big it nearly covers the whole expanse. 

“Yes, yes fuck. Lay your eggs in me,” you cry out, and Vislos shudders with a groan. Then eggs slip into you faster than they ever have. Desperate whimpers come from the man inside you and you lose it. Over the edge from his noises and the deep push and pull of the eggs, pleasure coursing through every inch of you, making you hot and cold all at once, and Vislos…he just keeps going. 

“Unnffhhh, fuuuck,” he groans, his finger tips pressing into your growing stomach, and you nearly cum again, just from the pitiful noises escaping his lips once more. You’re really lost for this man. 

His hips stutter, his gasps growing louder, and then he collapses on top of you in a heap, smothering you. 

“Vislos,” you groan, smacking his thigh until he moves. 

His fingers tremble on your waist as he rolls off of you, once again moving behind you, the big spoon to your little spoon. 

“Sorry,” he says, his chest still heaving. “You ok?”

You nod, your breathing finally settling down. 

“Fine. Better than fine. Thank you.”

He huffs, pulling you impossibly closer, and kisses your shoulder. 

“Pretty sure I’m the one that should be saying that but you’ve turned my brain to mush.”

You open your mouth to respond but a moan slips out as he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty again. At least your stomach is full of eggs. It’s a feeling you’re starting to get used to, and you don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. 

“You’ve turned my insides to mush so I think we’re even.” 

A snort sounds from behind you and you grin, pulling his arm tighter around your chest. He has a handful of your boob, something he likes to do after intense sex, or really, just anytime he can get his hands on them. You like it, but you’ll never tell him that. If you did, he’d be unstoppable. 

“I can’t believe Christmas break is almost over.” 

He hums, his fingers squeezing and then letting go, acknowledging you without words. He must be really tired. 

“Wanna go to bed? Before you fall asleep here?”

“Mm mm,” he murmurs, shaking his head for extra emphasis. He just curls himself around you like one big teddy bear and you grin, hugging his arm close to your chest. 

“Very well. Good night. I love you.”

He at least deigns to answer those words, lifting himself just enough to kiss your jaw, whispering I love you into your ear, and then he’s gone again. Not 5 minutes pass before he’s softly snoring, the noise rumbling through you. 

“Sleepyhead,” you mutter, but the smile never leaves your face. Not even as you drift into the best sleep you’ve ever had in your entire life. 

**

He meets your parents about 7 months into your relationship, and he has them wrapped around his finger the second they lay eyes on him. Your father, hard headed as he is, loves him, and your mom about swoons the first time Vislos cooks dinner for them. 

They pull you to the side before leaving, and they sing his praises, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And then Vislos nearly cries when you tell him how much they love him. He had been so scared, no matter how hard you tried to convince him he was fine. You just hug him, letting him work through his emotions, and then he makes love to you through the night, nearly making you late for your early morning class. 

By the time spring break rolls around, you both visit his family for the first time. They welcome you with open arms, his mom absolutely delighted to hear he’s found someone to take care of him. 

His father, a quiet but firm man, gives him a pat on the back, and has to turn away as his eyes well up. He’s proud, that much is obvious. 

His brothers are mostly the same, just a little less emotional. Or at least better at hiding it. 

Eze is a rambunctious man and Uma is more refined, but he easily keeps up with their banter. Uma is smaller, but no less handsome, and if your future kid turns out anything like them, you’ll celebrate and thank whatever god exists that this is the life you were given. 

Vislos’ mom pulls you to the side one night to ask how you’ve been managing, and she explains in no small detail just how different the breeding process is compared to the normal egg laying. Despite the difficulty, and the possible danger, you haven’t changed your mind, and she seems to be relieved at that realization. 

After spending a week with his family, watching Vislos joke around and play fight with his brothers, more relaxed than he’s been since you met him, and realizing just exactly what you could have one day, it makes you all the more determined to finish school. 

More than once you host study groups at the apartment, Vislos the handsome host as always, and you even earn several pats on the back for bagging “a good one”. You just roll your eyes at them, but you agree. He really is the perfect man. 

The month before finals, you take a very much needed break from school, if only for the night, and Vislos takes you out for a real, proper date. Your one year anniversary. 

You’ve been to dinner together before of course, and even to the movies a few times, but this time Vislos goes all out. 

Though, when he first walks out of your room with a suit on, you have the mind to just stay inside the rest of the night. He had the same thought seeing you in your bright red dress, form fitting around your smaller waist and supple chest. He almost didn’t let you walk out of the apartment. 

The restaurant is fancy, downtown, something you would normally eat at only once in a lifetime. The wine is absolutely delectable, the food even better, and by the time you leave, you have a food belly, peeking out through your tight dress. Vislos loves it and you don’t even make it home before he gets his hands on you, making you cum twice with his fingers and tongue alone. 

By the time finals week arrives, you’re both miserable, him a little more so, if only because you won’t let him touch you lest you get distracted from studying. That doesn’t keep him from taking care of you though. And when bed time rolls around, he is always there, ready to wrap you in his arms. 

You always feel bad when you keep him from laying, but he constantly assures you that while he may feel ill, it’ll never be as bad as when you first met. Not unless you go months apart. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, but you focus on studying anyway, knowing this is the best way you can help him. 

He treats you better than you treat yourself most days, and now that the end is near, you can’t wait to give him what he truly wants.

**

Finishing school is the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you’re determined. You have a promise on the line. 

And truthfully, that promise isn’t the only thing driving you. Vislos is just the most perfect boyfriend and you’re genuinely excited to be able to spend life with him when school is over. You want to travel and explore with him, to just be with him for the rest of your life. And if the way he treats you says anything, he wants that too. Desperately. 

So when you walk across the stage, dressed in a garnet robe, tassels dangling from your neck, your graduation cap sitting crooked on your head, it’s Vislos’ face you look for in the crowd. It’s his face beaming back at you, surrounded by your parents and his mother who so graciously made the trip to watch you graduate. 

Tears burn in your eyes but you blink them away. This is your day. This is the day you’ve been waiting for, and you won’t let the tears smear your makeup. 

**

“Hi, my lovely graduate.”

You grin and melt into Vislos’ arms. He kisses all over your face, picking you up and spinning you around once for good measure. His mom smacks him in the arm, but the smile on her face is evidence enough that she is just as happy as he is. 

“Oh dear, you look lovely. I’m so proud of you.”

Vislos releases you long enough for you to hug your dad and mom, and she winks at you as Vislos moves right back to your side. He refuses to let you go, even during dinner, and during the drive back home. He’s always touching you, a hand on your side, a hand on your thigh, it’s comforting. 

He stops just long enough to park the car and open your door, and then he’s carrying you to the elevator and over the threshold of your shared apartment. 

His fingers are warm on your waist and legs, the smell of his cologne curls in your nose and makes you feel fuzzy inside. 

“You can put me down now, you know.” You say it but you don’t really mean it. You like being in his arms. 

Apparently he knows that too because he just smirks and readjusts his grip. 

“I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.”

You grin, kicking your feet a little before closing your eyes, just as he asks. 

“No peeking,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath brushing over your ear. 

“No promises.”

He huffs, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again. 

“Ok. Open them.”

You peek first, squinting to see what could possibly be going on, but your eyes open fully when you realize just what it is. 

The bedroom, the one you’ve been sharing with him nearly since the day you met, is absolutely covered in rose petals and candles, the scent of roses and lavender strong enough to make your nose itch. He sets you down on your feet and you gaze in awe up at him, eyes wide. 

“I know I say this a lot, but meeting you, knowing you, has been the most amazing gift I could ever ask for. I never once thought I would be this lucky. But…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, and then you feel tears prick at your eyes for the second time today as he gets down on one knee and continues…

“You are the most amazing woman, so smart and headstrong, sassy and funny. You make waking up in the morning worth it every single day, even if you put ketchup on your eggs.”

You snort, ugly tears falling down your cheeks now. 

He grins up at you, his eyes watery as he pulls a small red box from his jacket pocket.

“I can’t live without you, nor do I want to. I want to grow old with you, and listen to you complain about your day. I want to have kids with you, when you’re ready, and I want to go on so many adventures. I promise to spoil you, to take care of you, and to always treat you with respect. So, my love…” he says, opening the red box to reveal one of the most gorgeous diamond rings you’ve ever seen. “Will you marry me?”

The answer is obvious. To you, to him, to anyone who has the chance to witness his love for you in person, but you still nod your head emphatically, wiping away the ugly tears. 

“Yes, oh my god yes. I love you so much.”

His shoulders sag in relief and he stands, pulling you into a gut melting kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist the way they always do. 

He pulls away long enough to put the ring on your finger, his fingers shaking just as bad as yours. 

“I love you so much. And I promise to love you for the rest of our lives.”

Heart achingly full, you nod and kiss him again, the weight of the ring on your finger a forever reminder of the man you will love for the rest of your life. 

**

The wedding is small, but still, it’s everything you’ve ever wished for. Your parents join, all of Vislos’ family, and a number of friends from school. In total the ceremony lasts about 30 minutes, and the remainder of the time is spent hanging out with everyone. 

You can finally feel the stress falling off of you in waves. It may be a small ceremony, but there has been so much planning involved. Vislos hasn’t been able to lay in a few weeks so he’s pretty subdued, and you can see the faint tremble in his fingers, but that doesn’t keep his face from brightening whenever you get near him. He’s tired, but he’s happy, and he’s already promised retaliation later tonight. You look forward to it. 

**

About five months after the wedding, it’s time to set your plans in motion. You can’t exactly tell your parents you’re pregnant like normal women, considering it doesn’t take as long for the eggs to hatch. So instead, you wait a bit, just enjoying being Vislos’ wife. He gets back into his normal rhythm of laying weekly, and he looks all the better for it. And every time you both go out, you get compliments on your belly, and how you’re glowing. 

One morning, you’re dressed in a simple yellow sundress, sandals, and a floppy hat, taking maternity photos for the first time. Your hair is being unruly but you ignore it, focusing more on the bump of your belly under your dress. Your friend Sarah is just a few feet away, instructing you on how to pose as she snaps pictures. 

You waited a few days after Vislos laid so you would be a little bigger, and with your hand tucked under your belly, holding the dress up against it, your bump is pretty pronounced. Just convincing enough to be over halfway through a pregnancy. 

Sarah seems convinced enough. She keeps complimenting you and how good you look. And then when Vislos joins the pictures, she gushes over how good you both look together. You’d be jealous if you didn’t know how head over heels Vislos is for you. 

The pictures turn out so good, you print all of them and frame a few of them, placing them around the apartment. You also tuck two into a box, along with a onesie that reads *1st Grandchild*. Vislos is kind enough to offer to take it to the postal office for you, and you just know you’ll soon be getting a very excited phone call. 

Vislos’ parents already know the plan, and have been incredibly supportive. His father, Mr. Prathy, has been very kind, giving you answers to all of your questions, keeping you and Vislos sane, and they’ve also helped plan how to handle all of this. Even still, you send them a picture as well, along with another similar onesie. Even if they already know, you want them to be included.

Vislos comes up behind you just as you finish writing the names on the labels. His warm hands wrap around your waist, cupping your heavy middle, and you grin and lean back into him. 

“Ready for bed?” he asks, setting his chin down on your shoulder. His thumbs are slowly rubbing up and down the sides of your belly and it feels so damn good. 

“It’s only 9 o’clock.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he responds. 

“More time for me to make love to my beautiful, perfect wife.”

Your heart flutters and sends warmth shooting through you. His wife. That’s what you are. 

You turn around to face him, leaning back against the table and Vislos follows, leaning in closer now. 

“And what if your wife doesn’t want to go to bed just yet?”

His brow raises and his lips quirk up.

“I’m flexible.”

He lifts you up onto the table then, pushing himself between your legs, and you gasp.

“This is not what I had in mind.”

He shrugs though, and trails a finger over your breast, the thin nightgown you have on doing nothing to keep your nipples from being visible. 

“Are you saying you don’t want it?” he asks, looking at you as if you would be his last meal. 

Heat thrums through you and you shake your head, unable to use words anymore. He just smirks and leans in, trailing his lips over your jaw. You sigh, letting your head fall back, and he takes advantage of the new space, suckling over your neck, down to your shoulder. His hands trail up your thighs, pushing the nightgown up with them, and then he’s getting on his knees, putting your thighs over his shoulders. 

“Here?” you ask, breathlessly, leaning back slightly. This is probably the only time you’ll curse the swell of your middle, because you so wish you could see him right now.

He just hums, his breath so hot between your legs. 

“I just want to taste you,” he mumbles, and then he’s there, pressing his tongue between your folds. Pleasure builds slow and steady, his tongue pressing in and out, occasionally swirling around your clit, and you struggle to stay upright. 

“Vislos…fuck.”

He hums again, adding a finger to the mess between your legs, and your arms tremble. He pulls you closer, so you’re just barely hanging over the edge, and you fall back, arching your back into the feeling of his finger pushing in and out of you. He just keeps going, letting the pressure build and build and build, and by god you’re so close.

“Please,” you beg, unable to form other words. “Please,” you ask, hoping he knows what you’re asking for. And thankfully, he does. 

He delves deeper, the sound of his tongue slipping in and out of you so loud and lewd, and he increases the pressure on your clit, circling and circling and then your thighs clench, crushing his head between them, but he keeps going. 

Your gut grows so warm so fast, your nipples tingling, and then you’re lost. An orgasm rips through you, making you tremble around him, your thighs squeezing around his head, your hips bucking against his persistent tongue. It lasts so long you think you might pass out, but then it stops, and you’re gasping for breath, legs limp over his shoulders. 

He rubs your thighs, kissing over the insides of them, making you twitch at the feeling. 

“You okay?”

You don’t even have enough breath to respond so you huff, reaching down to grab his fingers and squeeze. He stands carefully, keeping you from falling off the table, and then you’re in his arms. 

“That was intense,” you mumble into his throat, finally catching your breath.

“Good intense?” he asks, genuinely. He’s always very careful after such a big orgasm, taking care of you before continuing. 

You just nod, the smile on your face evidence enough. 

That night, he holds you as you push out his eggs, twelve beautifully green shelled eggs. They’re soft and pliable, empty of life, but still so important, because very soon they will be alive. And you can’t wait. 

**

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Vislos nods, despite his pale complexion and the small beads of sweat on his forehead. The ride to his parents is a long one, and you’ve offered to drive multiple times, but he keeps refusing. It started only a few hours in, but he started getting warm, pale, his fingers trembling around the wheel. It reminds you a little too much of how he looked when you first met each other. 

“Why don’t we pull over and get some snacks or something? Your dad said you needed to stay hydrated and keep your energy up.”

He hesitates, clearly not wanting to stop, but he thinks better of it and pulls off the highway, finding a gas station, parking in one of the several empty spots. 

“You stay in the car, I’ll be right back.”

He tries to argue but he can’t even muster the energy to reach across the console. It’s terrifying seeing him like this. 

Inside the gas station, you start grabbing protein bars and several drinks, but you also call Mr. Prathy. Just for some assurance. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have easy words to assuage your concerns. 

“Get him some food and water. Gatorade too. Make sure he drinks all of at least one of them. His body is already trying to prepare for birth and he’s getting weak. Can you handle driving the rest of the way? We will meet you at the bottom of the mountain.”

“Yes, I can do that. I’ll call you when we get close.”

“Okay, good girl. Keep my son safe, please.”

“Yes, of course. Talk to you soon.”

You hang up and check out, your bag full of random snacks and drinks, and by the time you get back to the car, Vislos looks worse. 

“Vislos? Hey, wake up.” You pat his cheek gently, his skin hot to touch.

His eyes flutter open and you frown, pulling a water out of the bag. 

“Drink this. I’m going to drive the rest of the way.”

You know he feels miserable because he doesn’t even argue. You just help him walk around to the passenger side and he collapses into the seat with a soft grunt.

He lifts the water to his lips, thankfully able to do that on his own, and you hurry around the other side.

“You need to eat too. Here,” you say, opening one up for him. “Eat this.”

He takes it, to your relief, and starts eating as you pull out of the parking lot, the GPS already pointing you back to the highway.

The rest of the drive you focus half on the road and half on Vislos, monitoring his condition. The food and water seem to help him and he’s more lucid now, but every hour that passes makes his eyes droop further and further. 

He’s resting, his head lulling to the side when you call Mr. Prathy back, letting him know you’re close.

“How’s he doing?”

You glance at him before responding.

“He’s eaten 4 of the protein bars I bought and had 2 waters and a gatorade. He’s still pale but he’s not trembling anymore. He’s asleep right now.”

There’s some voices in the background and Mr. Prathy responds to them before answering you.

“Let him rest. We will meet you soon. You’re doing great.”

You don’t realize how much you need the reassurance until he says that. And then you suddenly feel like you’re on the verge of tears. 

“Is he gonna be okay?”

There’s a long pause, followed by another sound in the background, and then Mr. Prathy sighs softly.

“He will be. He’s strong. Just keep him alive until you get here.”

You just nod, unable to form any more words through the lump in your throat. 

**

Mr. Prathy is waiting for you as soon as you pull onto the road that leads to their house. You put the car in park and he’s there in seconds, checking on his son. 

“Vislos? Can you hear me? Wake up son.”

You watch, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Vislos is slow to respond, his words slurred, and your nerves are shot to hell. 

“Is he okay?” You ask, nearly begging. 

Mr. Prathy doesn’t answer, his brow furrowed. He pats Vislos’ cheek, waking him up again, and you struggle to hold back your tears. Vislos’ mom comes up to your side of the car, distracting you long enough to get you in the back seat. All you can do is watch.

“He’s out of it. We need to go.” Mr. Prathy gets into the backseat just as the car starts moving, and then he’s between the front seats, holding Vislos’ head steady.

“Stay with me son. Dad’s here.”

You’re numb, unable to speak or move or anything…

“...okay? Love, look at me.”

You blink, not even realizing Mr. Prathy is speaking to you. 

“He’s rough but he’ll pull through. You did a good job getting him here.”

You want to sob, to break down, but Mr. Prathy is so sure that everything is going to be fine, and you believe him. 

“He still needs to lay the egg, and his body will know what to do. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You wipe your face and nod, determined to make sure Vislos is ok. 

“Good. My son chose very well. You’ll make him happy.”

Tears prick at your eyes again but you blink them away, focusing instead on Vislos. 

He’s not as pale anymore, thankfully. Probably because of Mr. Prathy sharing his energy with him. He’d once explained it to you but human terms weren’t exactly comparable to the terms he wanted to use, so you didn’t really understand a lot of it. 

The part you do know though is that this process is usually better handled with a lot of people, hence the trip up here in the first place. Mr. Prathy had expected some complications due to Vislos’ half human genes, but watching him now, you’re not entirely sure he thought it would be this bad. 

The rest of the car ride is quiet, occasionally broken by Mr. Prathy checking in with Vislos, and by the time the car pulls up in front of the house, Vislos is talking in full sentences again. Still pale, still shaky, but not out of it. 

You’re helped out of the car by Vislos’ mom, and then Eze and Uma come running down the driveway, helping Vislos stand up. Uma’s smaller form is nearly swallowed by Vislos’ size but he’s stronger than he seems, not even stumbling under his older brother’s weight. They carry him inside, and Mr. Prathy hurries after them, looking a little pale himself. 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you inside.”

You nod and follow, the stress of the last several hours starting to catch up with you. 

Inside, Vislos is on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Eze is right next to him, talking to him softly, concern written all over his face for his brother. Uma has his head resting on Vislos’ shoulder, one arm wrapped around his back. The genuine concern and care they show for each other nearly makes you cry again. 

Mr. Prathy comes back from the kitchen, wet washcloth in hand. 

“Don’t wait any longer. You may be feeling better now, but it won’t last. You need to do this while your energy is up.”

Despite the gentle authority in his voice, you can still hear the fear just under it. The realization that they could lose their son. You may love Vislos, but they’ve known him his whole life. 

You don’t want to think about it anymore. 

Careful hands pull you from your thoughts, drawing you back to the situation at hand. 

“We’ll leave you two to handle this. We won’t be far though. Call us if anything happens, okay?”

You nod, watching Vislos’ mom pull away, moving to grab Mr. Prathy and head towards the back bedroom. Eze puts his forehead to Vislos’, whispering something you can’t hear, and Vislos nods. Uma is hesitant to leave, but Vislos gives him a lazy smile, reassuring him. And damn if he’s not still insanely attractive, even when he’s unwell. 

The room is suddenly empty, except for you and Vislos, and you look at him, stiff and uncomfortable looking on the couch. He gives you a small smile and holds a hand out, which you take instantly, climbing into his lap. 

“This is not how this was supposed to go.”

Vislos shakes his head, his hands moving around your waist, his thumbs slipping under your shirt. 

“No. But it’ll be a fun story to tell.”

You frown down at him. 

“That’s not funny.”

He chuckles, his eyes bright despite the fever running through him. 

“I thought it was.”

If he wasn’t so miserable, you’d slap him. 

“Stop making bad jokes and tell me what you need me to do. You’ve waited long enough.”

His smile fades a bit, his eyes pinched slightly. 

“I don’t think I can move. Are you ok on the couch?”

You nod then hesitate.

“What if we ruin their couch?”

Vislos huffs, letting his head fall back against the couch cushion. 

“I’m sure they won’t mind us ruining their couch if it means I am alive.”

“Fair point,” you mutter, crawling off his lap. 

There’s already a comforter and pillows laid out in the area, so you lay a blanket over the back of the couch at least, so you can grab it if needed. 

“Can you help me get my pants off?”

You nod, doing just that. He lifts his hips and you pull his sweatpants down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. 

“This feels like deja vu,” you whisper, stripping out of your own clothes and crawling back into his lap, naked. 

His eyes rake up and down over your body, appreciating the view and you can’t help but enjoy it. 

“At least this time, you’re my wife and not the hot stranger next door.”

You raise a brow at that. 

“You thought I was hot? I didn’t even know you noticed me.”

He grins, his hands shifting over your waist and down to grab your ass, squeezing.

“How could I not? You weren’t exactly subtle.”

The sudden realization that he knew exactly what you’d been doing all that time ago…

“You asshole! You should’ve told me about that!”

He huffs, a gorgeously playful look on his face.

“And risk you leaving me out of embarrassment? Never.”

“That is not fair.”

He winks, squeezing your waist.

“I know.”

You shake your head, shifting slightly so you’re sitting more on his lap.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you grumble. 

He nods, serious now, his thumbs making small circles on your ribs. 

“I am. So very lucky.”

The feelings he holds for you are so plain on his face, you can’t help but lean in and kiss him, wanting to taste him. And he doesn’t hesitate to do the same, his lips locking with yours, his fingers moving all over your bare skin. 

His tentacle starts to wiggle between your legs, so incredibly warm.

“Is it time?” you ask, breathless as you pull away.

He lets out a muffled groan, nodding. 

Excitement, fear, anxiety…it all twists inside you, making you nervous. But for everything, you’re so excited for this. It’s what you’ve always wanted. 

“Let’s have a baby,” you whisper in his ear, nipping at his earlobe. He lets out a broken moan and his hands are a vice on your waist. 

You kiss over his neck, finding that one spot that always makes him squirm, and you feel his hips buck up into you, his tentacle a steady pressure between your legs. 

It feels just as amazing as usual, but it’s so much warmer. Nearly searing. So is Vislos’ face.

Everything about him is hot right now, but you’re mostly concerned about the pale complexion starting to come back. 

“Just breathe baby, I’m right here.”

Vislos’ eyes flutter open and he looks up at you. His eyes are glossy and unfocused, but his fingers squeeze you, letting you know he’s still here with you. 

You lean in, putting your forehead to his, and just let him do his thing. You stretch around his tentacle fairly easily, at least until it starts getting to the base. It’s bigger and stiffer than usual, but despite the slight discomfort, it still feels amazing. 

“You’re doing great, baby,” you whisper softly, kissing over his temple, holding him close. His breath brushes over your throat, his chest heaving slightly. You reach for a bottle of water from the end table and he accepts it when you put it to his lips. 

His fingers flex and then squeeze, his hips stuttering and you hear his pained gasp. Bottle of water forgotten, he puts his forehead to your shoulder, trembling heavily. You keep running your fingers through his hair, whispering encouragement every now and then. 

It gets so hot between your legs suddenly that you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair on accident. He whimpers, his abs twitching. It feels like an iron rod is branding you, searing your insides and marking you as his, which is not something you mind at all. And then it starts expanding, spreading you open. 

“That is so much bigger than usual,” you gasp out, looking down between you and him. Pleasure courses through you even as Vislos struggles, his shoulders so tense. 

“You ok,” you ask softly, squeezing the back of his neck. 

He nods, barely perceptible, and you let him focus. He’s getting pale again, more beads of sweat starting to gather on his brow. The tremble in his fingers is more pronounced now and you can tell he’s running out of energy. Fast. 

“Want me to call your family back? You don’t look good.” 

He lets out a pained gasp, his head falling to your chest, nestled just above your breasts. “I’m close. Just give me a few more minutes.”

You hesitate but eventually nod, respecting his wishes. You cradle his head, holding him as he tenses up, his mouth falling open on a silent scream as the egg pushes through him and into you. It’s so heavy and thick, feeling like a damn bowling ball forcing its way inside you. 

It gets stuck for a moment, both of you tense and struggling to breathe, and then it suddenly shifts, slipping into you and all the way through to your cervix. You watch in awe as your stomach gains a little pouch, smaller than the usual batches of eggs, but still noticeable. 

“You did it, baby! You did so well.”

Vislos shudders, breathing heavily. He looks up at you, barely mustering up a small smile before his eyes roll back into the back of his head. His body goes completely limp.

Panic sets in and you lean forward to cup his cheeks.

“Vislos? Hey, wake up! Mr. Prathy!” you cry out, and footsteps come running instantly.

It’s a flurry of movement, too many people, not enough space, and soon Mr. Prathy, Eze, and Uma are all gathered around Vislos, wiping his face and talking softly to each other. 

Vislos’ mom wraps a fluffy robe around you, covering your naked form, and you break down sobbing in her arms. She just holds you close, comforting you while watching her husband and sons. 

**

You wake in a daze, a heavy weight in your middle. The room swirls around you, the lamp on the bedside table barely illuminating the room. 

Gentle hands settle on your shoulders and you blink up at Uma.

“Hey, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

You groan, letting your head fall back to the pillow, covering your face. 

“Like I got hit by a freight train. How’s Vislos?”

Uma hums, pulling your hand away from your face to offer a glass of water.

“He’s sleeping still. But Dad says he’ll be ok. Mom is with him now. She sent me to wake you up and see how you were doing.”

The relief that bowls through you nearly puts you right back to sleep. 

“Can I see him?”

Uma nods, slipping off the edge of the bed. 

“Of course. He’s in the living room. I’ll get you some food.”

You’re so incredibly thankful for Vislos and his family. They have never once made you feel like an outsider.

You slip out of the bed, surprised to find you’re dressed in your pajamas, but grateful nonetheless. At least you weren’t naked around his family anymore. 

There’s a small lamp on in the living room but it hardly gives off enough light. You can just barely make out the outline of Vislos’ mom sitting up on the couch. You slip into the room quietly, moving to the front of the couch to find Vislos snoring softly, his head laying in his mom’s lap. Eze is passed out sitting on the floor, leaning back against the end of the couch, a hand on Vislos’ ankle. His mom sets her books down, and runs her fingers through Vislos’ hair. 

“Hi love,” she says softly, giving you a smile. 

You smile back at her, happy to see Vislos is really just sleeping soundly.

“How is he?” you ask quietly, not wanting to disturb them. 

She smiles down at you as you settle down next to the couch, setting a hand on Vislos’ curled fingers. 

“Much better now. He woke up about an hour ago to make sure you were alright and then he passed out again. It will take him some time to recover, but he’ll be fine.”

You nod, pulling his fingers to your lips.

“Where is Mr. Prathy?”

“Sleeping. He overdid himself, even if he won’t admit it. Eze took over a few hours ago, making sure Vislos had enough energy to recover.”

“I’m sorry we caused such a stir. I didn’t know it would be so…scary.”

She laughs softly, still running her fingers through Vislos’ hair. 

“Kids will scare you, whether they’re human or not. It’s just how it goes. It took me forever to even convince Prathy to try. I think he was worried something like this would happen to us. But we didn’t have the help Vislos has now.”

You lean into the couch, still holding Vislos’ hand. 

“Was it hard? To adapt to having non-human kids?”

She hums softly.

“Of course it was. I think you’ll find that there’s an adjustment that comes with any big change like this. But Prathy and I worked together, and we figured it out. Just like you and Vislos will. I’m sure of it.”

Her words help ease some of the anxiety looping around in your brain. At least for now. 

Footsteps sound behind you and Uma appears from the kitchen, holding a plate and what looks like a glass of orange juice. 

“Here, you should eat.”

You take the plate and thank him, devouring the sandwich so quickly he chuckles and gets up to make you another one without you having to ask. You’re halfway through the second sandwich when Vislos wakes up, his eyes fluttering open.

You nearly choke on your food in your attempt to talk to him.

“Baby, hi,” you whisper, still coughing from the sandwich going down the wrong pipe. 

Vislos groans softly, rubbing his face.

“Hi.” His voice sounds worse than yours. Like he’s been gargling razor blades. 

He looks around, seeing Eze on the floor, then his mom behind him, and he sighs. 

“How long have I been out?”

“A little over 24 hours. Do you want to sit up?”

He groans but nods, lightly kicking Eze’s hand off his ankle, waking Eze from his sleep. 

He wavers slightly when he sits up, but he doesn’t pass out again. Thankfully. 

“I need to go check on your father. Don’t stand up too fast, and make sure you eat something. Uma!” his mom calls, drawing Uma out of the kitchen. 

“Make your brother a sandwich or two, and put some in the fridge for your dad.”

Uma nods, doing just that. Eze groans, standing up off the floor, stretching.

“Remind me never to sleep on the floor again. My back is going to hate me for that.”

"No one asked you to do that. In case you decide to blame me for this later.”

Eze chuckles, patting Vislos on the back softly.

“I only have one twin. You can’t get rid of me that easily. But I swear to god if you scare me like that again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Vislos smirks, slapping Eze’s arm off his shoulder. 

“Good luck with that. You couldn’t beat me and you know it.”

“Right now, you’re a pretty easy target,” Eze says grinning, lightly slapping the back of Vislos’ head. 

Vislos huffs and slaps his hand away, and then Eze turns to you, still grinning.

“Take care of my brother. He’s not good at doing that for himself, apparently.”

“Shut up, Eze. Go eat something before you pass out,” Vislos interrupts before you can even try to answer. 

Eze gives him a mock salute and then disappears into the kitchen, now quarreling with Uma if the noise echoing from the kitchen is anything to go by. 

Vislos still looks tired, but he has a light in his eyes now, one that was definitely not there yesterday. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” you ask, still scared he might keel over. 

He looks back at you and nods, pulling you up onto the couch, tucking you up against his side. 

“Much better. How are you feeling?” he asks softly, his large hand settling over your stomach. 

“Surprisingly amazing, despite everything. I can’t believe we really did it. We’re having a baby.”

“We are,” Vislos agrees, his grin dazzling. He leans in for a kiss and you accept, so thankful to see him back in a playful mood and no longer on death’s door. 

“No more scaring me like that, okay?”

Vislos pulls away and nods, serious again.

“I promise. I shouldn’t have waited so long. Next time, we’ll be better prepared.”

You raise a brow.

“Next time?”

He just huffs, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“Of course. I expect at least a family of 10.”

“Ha. I think your brain is still scrambled. Try that again.”

He rolls his eyes but kisses your forehead, making a big wet noise as he pulls away.

“I guess I can settle for 5.”

You can’t hold back your laugh anymore, and it feels so good to relax and fall back into your familiar rhythm with him. His face softens and he cups your cheek, caressing it. 

“I love your laugh.”

You roll your eyes but lean in, putting a kiss to his temple and then pull away.

“I love you. All of you. Let’s go to bed.”

His eyes glitter up at you as you stand, and he doesn’t put up any fight as he follows you down the hall to his old bedroom, the same one you share every time you visit. 

Both of you fall asleep in seconds, his arm wrapped around you, his hand protectively covering your belly. And it’s probably the best sleep you’ve had in a while. 

**

“Emma Grace, get down from there!”

You watch in horror as your 4 year old daughter dangles precariously from the tree in the front yard, far too high up for your liking. 

Vislos, the ass, plucks her up out of the tree and blows raspberries into her belly, making her squeal. 

“How did she even get up there?” you ask, exasperated. Vislos is an amazing father, and always will be, but sometimes you wondered where his brain was. 

“I put her up there. She said she wanted to go high. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Emma Grace nods emphatically, her blonde curls bouncing on her head. Her dress is absolutely ruined, and she has a scrape on her knee, but you suppose it could be worse. At least the dress can be washed. 

“Ok well next time, don’t let me find out. I can’t handle that.”

Vislos chuckles and nods, kissing your cheek and getting Emma Grace to do that same. 

“You heard Mommy. Next time, we won't tell her you went high!” he says, just as he tosses her up into the air, making her squeal and giggle all over again. 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, but…it’s endearing. She loves him so much. And so do you. 

“How’s Levi? Did he finally go to sleep?”

You nod, accepting his arm around your waist, heading back to the house. Emma Grace scrambles out of his arms and takes off, nearly tripping over her feet at the foot of the stairs. 

“He passed out about 30 minutes ago, milk drunk and with a clean diaper. Your mom is watching him.”

Vislos nods, grinning, lazily pressing you up against the stair railing. 

“Guess that means we can have some alone time, huh? I haven’t had you to myself in too long.”

You grin, looking up at him, his eyes glittering. 

“The last time you said that, you convinced me to have another baby.” The very baby currently stretching out your belly, pressing up against Vislos’ abs. 

He smirks, leaning in. “And you look very beautiful carrying our newest baby.”

You slap his shoulder but it does nothing but make him nip at your ear. 

“I thought we agreed on 2?” you say, but you’re distracted. He’s kissing over your neck, under your jaw, pulling your shirt to the side to mouth at your collar bone. 

“I agreed to at least 2,” he mumbles, his breath hot on your skin. 

“Semantics,” you grumble, his hands drifting under your shirt, cupping both sides of your heavy pregnant belly. You don’t really have much reason to fight him off. You’re enjoying it too much. 

His hips press up against you and you moan, your head falling back as his lips explore further, chasing every inch of naked skin–

“Ahem.”

You pull away in a hurry, pushing Vislos off of you. He doesn’t even seem to care that you've been caught.

“Eze, my dear brother. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

The smirk on Eze’s face is embarrassing enough. 

“I just came to give my congratulations on the third child. And to let you know I’ll be heading back down the mountain soon.”

Vislos nods, stepping off the porch steps. 

“Be careful. Let us know you’re safe,” Vislos says, pulling Eze in for a big hug. Eze hugs him back just as tight, his forearm muscles bulging slightly under his rolled up flannel sleeves. 

“You know I will. Send me pictures of the newest little one when they arrive,” he says, this time addressing you.

You nod, smiling up at him. “Of course we will. Emma Grace is going to be so upset you’re leaving. Let me go grab her so she can say bye.”

You find her playing with her small wood-carved animals, a beautiful gift from Mr. Prathy for her 4th birthday. She takes off out the door when you tell her Eze is leaving and Eze lifts her up into his arms, spinning her around in the air. 

It’s a beautiful sight, and you still think it’s a pity Eze doesn’t want any children of his own. He’d be a great father. But, alas, it’s his choice and you would never force that on him. Heaven knows you have enough children to spare. 

“Ok baby girl, Uncle Ay-Yay has to go. We can call him later when he gets to his place.”

Emma Grace pouts but she doesn’t fight it when Vislos pulls her out of Eze’s arms and into his own. Her nickname for Eze still cracks you up, but it doesn’t look like it’ll change anytime soon. Not that Eze seems to mind. 

“I’ll call you when I get there, okay? Love you, E.G.!” 

Emma Grace responds with her own subdued response, and then Eze waves one last time. 

“I’ll be back. Love you guys. Stay safe.”

Vislos comes to join you on the porch, Emma Grace sniffling in his arms, and all three of you watch Eze’s car pull away and head back down the mountain. It’s always bittersweet seeing him leave, but you know it has to be this way. It’s not like he has options here for laying. 

“Come on, baby girl. Let’s go start getting dinner ready. You want to help me?”

That gets her excited again, and soon she’s forgotten all about her Uncle Ay-Yay leaving. 

That night, you lay in bed, unable to sleep. Vislos snores softly behind you, his arm tucked around you as always. It’s annoying how easily he falls asleep, especially after laying a batch of eggs, but you can’t really fault him for your racing mind. 

Eze leaves every other month to find someone to lay his eggs with. But unlike Vislos, he has no desire to settle down and find someone permanent. From what Vislos has told you, there’s a surprising number of kink communities that happily accept Eze. And while Vislos refuses to go into detail about it all, you can’t help but find yourself curious. Do these people have to sign an NDA? Or maybe he tells them it’s a toy? Or something else? 

Every single time he leaves, you find yourself wondering about it, and when you ask Vislos, he just says he doesn’t want to talk about his brother’s sex life. Which, that’s fair you guess. Vislos knows Eze is safe, and that’s what matters to him. 

You couldn’t imagine yourself being ok with that though. You’re thankful every day that Vislos wanted to settle down, that he wanted to have kids with you and make a life, despite the hardships you’ll both likely face.

Though you don’t want to admit it, having a big family sounds really nice. Especially since you were an only child growing up. 

He shifts behind you, a tired hum coming from him as he kisses over your shoulder, pulling your hair out of the way.

“You okay?”

You nod, looking up at him over your shoulder. “Just thinking.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing you haven’t heard before. Though, I was also thinking about the number of kids we should settle on.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, raising a brow.

“And? What did you decide?”

“I decided,” you say softly, turning over so you can look at him fully, propping your head up on your hand. “That we should just see what happens. No plan, no set number. Just…go with the flow, and we can stop when we’re ready to stop.”

He nods, his thumb running small circles over the side of your swollen middle. 

“I’m good with that. Who knows, maybe 3 is our favorite number.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. You know without a doubt that he will want at least one more after this one. He’s just insatiable like that. 

“If it was up to you, we would never stop.”

He chuckles, pushing you onto your back, hovering over you.

“What can I say, I find my wife very appealing.”

He keeps you from responding by kissing you, tucking his thigh between your legs. Pleasure shoots through you at such an alarming rate you nearly cum just from that little touch. 

“One more time?” you beg. “Before Levi wakes up again, and I have to feed him. Please?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he answers with a grin, settling between your legs, his cock already pressing up against you through his pajama pants. 

“Insatiable. I swear.”

“Only for you my love.”

You huff, but you can’t deny you crave him, nearly every day. He just does it for you, and you hope that never ends. 

As he makes love to you, making you feel every ounce of pleasure you can, you think maybe…just maybe, you can have that family of 10 with him one day. 

THE END

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ModB, how do people get tags not on the checkbox list in the submission page?

When you submit a story, the tags in the checkbox are just options. But once I read the full story, I add the tags myself. Tbh, I don't read the tags on the submissions unless they're about wanting polls or not.

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[imagineyourepregnant]

Feral Alpha

Written by @pregnancyismykink :) Hope you enjoy!!

**

We have reports of a feral alpha roaming downtown. State police request that everyone remain indoors for the night, especially unmated omegas. If you see a man matching the description below, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. 

The woman on the tv continues but Adam zones out, more worried about the cooling bowl of ramen in his lap. This is his first night off in two weeks and he is going to take advantage of it. 

A feral alpha is not going to ruin his night. Not when he lives 45 minutes outside of town. 

**

The sheets ruffle under him, his legs shifting in pleasure as he cups his cock, the lube on his hand warm now. He’s hard, leaking, and almost insane with desire as he twists his wrist. He chokes back a moan, his hips jumping. 

He’s been at it for nearly an hour, taking his time, keeping himself right at the edge, wanting his orgasm to last. Wanting to feel overwhelmed. It’s been so long since he’s done this, let alone done it with anyone else, and he’s so much more sensitive than usual. 

One flick of his thumb across his slit has him writhing on the bed, precum leaking from the head of his cock. 

He lets go, letting out a pathetic moan at the loss of pressure, and turns himself over on his hands and knees, tucking his pillow under his hips. The soft cotton brushes the head of his dick and he cries out, pulling his hips away in an attempt to subdue the pressure building much faster than he wanted. 

If he was lucid, and not focusing so heavily on breathing through the pleasure, he might have noticed he was practically presenting himself to the window, of which he’d forgotten to draw the curtain on. He’d been so concerned with other things…

He takes another deep breath, his stomach muscles jumping, his cock twitching between his legs, and then he slowly lowers himself onto the pillow, grinding down into the soft cotton. 

The pleasure spikes immediately and his hips stutter, pulling away once more, his chest heaving. Every inch of his skin burns with need. 

“A few more minutes,” he breathes to himself, fisting a hand into the sheets, holding the pillow with the other. “You can go longer.”

He shuffles his knees, widening his stance, and then he ruts into the pillow again, his ass leaking over the backs of his thighs. His balls tighten, his thighs and arms trembling from it all, and he thrusts once, then twice, and then finally…he lets go. 

A pained scream punches through him, his whole body tensing and then shuddering as he releases, his hips grinding relentlessly against the pillow, drawing it out as much as he can. 

His stomach muscles ache from how tense he is, his thighs trembling so hard he can barely stay up. Cum leaks out of him, all over his pillow, and he grips his dick, stroking it again, watching another drop of thick white cum spurt out of him, his mouth opening on another moan. 

He’s spent, exhausted, and all together ready to pass out and deal with the mess in the morning when the window behind him shatters.

His heart lurches in his chest and he curls in on himself, the noise deafening. He looks up just in time to see a massive figure looming by the window, the illumination of the moon making him look like a giant. 

“What the fu–”

He chokes on his words, rough hands gripping him and yanking him onto the floor, his knees landing hard on the wood floor. The man puts all of his weight against Adam, effectively trapping him on the floor, and Adam tries not to panic. 

The feral alpha. The one they warned about. But how?

“Get off me,” he tries, attempting to push himself up and away, but the alpha growls threateningly and the hairs on the back of Adam’s neck stand on end. He freezes. 

The worst thing he can do now is piss off an already feral alpha. He has to submit. Or at least pretend he is.

“Okay, okay. I won’t move,” he says quietly, relaxing his body as much as he can so the alpha knows he’s not trying to get away anymore. It’s hard to breathe with such a heavy weight bearing down on him. 

The alpha grumbles, the growl in his chest subsiding to more of a rumble. Adam tries to think, tries to figure out a way out of this, but he’s trapped. Completely. 

The alpha buries his nose in Adam’s throat, an appreciative moan falling from his lips and Adam has to hold back his shudder. This is so not what he wants to be doing right now. Especially not with a feral alpha. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

He turns his head, trying to get a better look at the man, but the only parts he can see are covered in fur, the man’s face near full transition. It would be hot if it was consensual. 

“Can you please let me go. I won’t run away, I promise. It’s just hard to breathe.”

Reasoning with a feral alpha. Way to go, he chastises himself. But, the alpha shifts a little, no longer such a heavy weight, and Adam breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.”

A grumble of approval echoes through the half wolfed out alpha, and Adam has half a mind to just let the man do what he wants. At least then maybe he can get out of the situation faster. 

He moves slowly, reaching towards the jeans he’d left on the floor by the bed. In his hurry to be naked he’d left his phone in the pocket.

He grabs the jeans, ever so slowly pulling them closer, and a deep growl rumbles through the man on top of him, warning him. 

Adam slows to a stop, heart thundering in his chest. If he makes a wrong move, he’ll be dead before anyone even knows he’s in trouble. 

“Just getting my phone,” he says carefully, making his movements obvious and slow. The alpha growls low in his chest, his hips rutting up against Adam’s bare ass, and he’s suddenly very aware of the fact that neither one of them have clothes on. 

The slick on his ass is still sticky and the alpha’s heavy cock brushes into it, slicking himself up, blindly rutting against Adam. If he wasn’t so scared of being killed, he might actually enjoy it. 

The alpha continues his rut, his teeth brushing over Adam’s shoulder and he moves to grab his phone again, really not willing to be forcefully mated to this alpha he doesn’t even know. The slick case of his phone slips out of the pocket, his fingers fumbling to unlock it. He’s starting to feel a warmth growing in his gut, an unfortunate side effect of having an alpha rutting against his naked ass for the last 10 minutes. 

The phone starts ringing and Adam waits with bated breath until…

“911, what’s your emergency?”

His breath shudders out of him as he answers. 

“The feral alpha…is in my room. He has me pinned. Please hel-ah!”

Sharp teeth break through his skin and he can’t hold back his pained gasp. The 911 operator is saying something but he can’t focus through the flood of pleasure and pain coming from his shoulder. 

Every nerve in his body is responding to this alpha’s mating bite, making him more slick and needy, his cock giving an interested twitch. The alpha seems to notice the change and lets out a happy little growl, his hips getting rougher, his fingers digging into Adam’s waist and shoulder. 

“Sir? Are you there?”

Adam can barely hear around the blood rushing through his ears. 

“Ahh, fuck. Yes, yes I’m here. He’s just bit me,” he spits out, narrowly keeping his moan from escaping. 

“Ok, just stay calm. Don’t provoke him. Police will be at your location in 10 minutes. Just stay on the line.”

Adam lets out a shuddered breath, his body aching now. Sweat drips down his temple, leaving trails over his forehead as he tries not to give in to the man attempting to use him. It’s hard.

“Is he inside you?” he hears the woman ask, her voice barely a whisper through the pleasure coursing through him. 

“Not yet,” he answers, unsuccessful this time as he lets out a lewd moan, slick leaking out of him in a steady flow now. 

He doesn’t hear what she says in response. He can only focus on the heavy cock fumbling between his legs, slipping in and out of his slick soaked thighs. The heat only grows, so insufferable that he can’t stand it anymore. 

“Okay, okay, please just…”

He reaches back, fumbling for the alpha’s heavy cock, trying to keep him still long enough to direct him to where Adam so desperately needs him. The alpha’s hips stutter and pause, just long enough for Adam to grab the thick head of the alpha’s cock and direct it to his ass. 

He presses back, mouth falling open with a loud moan as the tip of the alpha’s cock slips past the slick, tight rim of his ass. Adam nearly cums right then and there. 

“Please,” he begs, pushing back against the alpha. The growling grows lower, a grumble deep in the alpha’s gut, and it echoes through Adam, making his knees tremble. 

“Please,” he begs again.

The alpha finally catches on, pushing his hips forward, shoving every thick inch of his cock deep into Adam and Adam screams, his whole body tensing at the intense mix of pleasure and pain. 

The alpha doesn’t stop once he starts. He continues his rut, making satisfied grunting noises with every thrust, and Adam tries to hold on. His hands slip on the floor, so he reaches back, gripping the back of the alpha’s neck, yanking on the hair there, and it only serves to make the alpha move faster. 

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” he cries, the phone on the floor completely forgotten. 

The alpha presses him harder into the floor, the sound of his balls slapping against Adam’s ass echoing in the small room. His slick makes everything wet and easy, the squelching sound loud on every thrust. 

Adam moans louder, unable to hold it back anymore, and then suddenly he’s screaming through an orgasm. An orgasm that shoots through him so hard and fast that he seizes on the floor, unable to get away from the pleasure running its course through his entire body. He chokes on his cries, the alpha’s teeth once again buried in his shoulder, and cum shoots out of him, coating the floor and his stomach, making another mess he’ll just have to clean up later. 

He’s just barely lucid when he feels the start of a knot pressing against his rim. And with his orgasm comes clarity, and a sudden realization that he’s in a terrible position right now. 

“Wait, stop, please don’t–AH fuck!”

He’s too late. The knot grows too fast, easily pressing past his rim and it expands even further, filling him up. The alpha’s hips slap against him, desperate needy whines coming from the man above him, and then Adam’s insides are on fire. 

“Oh my god. No no, please,” he begs, but the alpha isn’t listening. 

The knot locks into place and Adam can feel his insides being flooded with ropes of cum. It’s so thick and heavy, making his stomach expand with every release, and he knows he’ll be swollen and heavy by the time the alpha’s knot goes down. 

The alpha makes a pitiful noise, his tongue lapping over the bites on Adam’s shoulder, making him shudder. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the alpha felt bad for what he did. But feral as he is, there’s nothing in his head but the need to breed.

There’s a knock at the front door of his house and Adam’s heart lurches. The cops. He’d completely forgotten about them. Shit.

“The cops are here,” he says, craning his neck to look up at the alpha, but the man is already alert. His eyes are focused on the door, his nose sniffing at the air, no doubt smelling another alpha in the area. 

“Are you still there, Adam?”

Adam turns away from the alpha to look at the phone.

“I’m here. Please tell them to be careful. He’s still inside me.”

The woman confirms she’s told the men outside to be discreet, but the second the door busts down, the alpha is up on his knees, holding Adam against his chest. 

The shift in position makes Adam cry out, his ass pulling at the knot. It’s still pumping him full of cum, and he can just barely see his lower belly poking out from his hips. 

The door to the bedroom swings open and Adam holds his breath, completely exposed to the two cops currently pointing very large weapons into his room. One of them even covers his nose, taking a step back from the doorway.

The alpha has him by the throat now, his hand squeezing possessively, his other arm wrapped tight around Adam’s waist, holding him as close as possible. 

The cop to the left steps back again, grabbing his walkie talkie on his shoulder. 

“Confirmed visual on the feral. He has an omega in hand.”

Adam can only watch as the men try to reason with the alpha, try to get him to let his guard down, but he doesn’t let up. He’s still gripping Adam as hard as he can, his fingers squeezing bruises into Adam’s throat and waist. 

“Adam? Can you hear me?”

The other cop, the older of the two, looks down at him.

Adam opens his mouth to respond but the alpha squeezes harder.

“Just blink once if you understand me.”

Adam blinks once. 

“We’re going to have to neutralize him. But we can’t do that until he’s no longer stuck with you. Do you understand?”

Adam’s stomach aches and his chest hurts, but he blinks again. 

“Good. How long has he been inside you? Blink when I say the right amount of minutes.”

Adam blinks again in understanding. His knees ache and his cock is hanging limp between his legs, spent and sore, on sight for the cops to see. 

“5 minutes, 10 minutes,...”

Adam listens as well as he can, and as the cop gets to 20, he blinks. Close enough.

“Great. It won’t be long now then. Just hold tight.”

Adam wants to laugh. What else could he possibly do right now?

Another spurt of cum coats his insides and his mouth falls open on a groan, unable to hold it back. He’s so full.

“Have an ambulance on standby.”

A low steady, threatening growl is rumbling through the alpha, and Adam can tell it’s making the cops antsy. He truly hopes they don’t do anything stupid. 

The alpha behind him shifts, his knot deflating, and Adam feels cum and slick beginning to leak out of him. He collapses to the floor, unable to keep himself upright anymore, and as the chaos ensues around him, he can only focus on breathing, the edges of his vision closing in. The last thing he remembers is the howl of an enraged alpha.

**

He spends 5 days in the hospital. 3 days recovering from the forced mating bite and the ensuing mating sickness, and 2 more days of testing and monitoring for any health concerns that could prevent a healthy pup. The doctors refuse his every request for conception blockers. It isn’t easy these days to get plan B, or any other conception protection, not since the Omega Care Act was repealed. 

Despite his verification that the insemination was not consensual, and even a police report proving this, the doctors refuse to provide him with anything due to the mating mark. Every single doctor says he has to have his mate’s approval, despite the proof that his mate is a feral alpha currently in rehab. 

He leaves the hospital sick to his stomach, praying to a god he doesn’t believe in that this pregnancy won’t catch. That he’ll get lucky and wake up in a few months feeling normal. 

**

He’s not so lucky. About a month after the incident, he’s at work, and the sound of a young patient throwing up sends him running to the bathroom. His stomach rebels for nearly 30 whole minutes, and he knows without a doubt that he’s screwed. 

The 3 pregnancy tests he takes that night only confirm it. He’s pregnant. With a feral alpha’s child. He has half a mind to find some way to get rid of the pup, but he’d be caught so easily. He’s already registered in the hospital’s records as a possibly pregnant omega. He’ll be tried for murder if he tries to rid himself of the pup now. 

He’s stuck with this. 

**

Two months pass and he feels almost normal again. The window is finally fixed. The police figured the Alpha had been drawn by the scent of Adam masturbating. He still hated himself for that part. 

He’s in the shower, scrubbing the day’s sweat and exhaustion off, with plans of rotting away on the couch for the next 2 days, when his phone rings. He peeks around the shower curtain, seeing a number he doesn’t recognize. 

“Probably a scam,” he mumbles to himself, moving back under the spray of water. The phone rings two more times before he realizes it may be work and he turns the water off, wrapping a towel around his waist. 

It’s a local number, but there’s no other info. He decides to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Adam Grandey?”

“This is him,” Adam answers, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear as he dries himself off. 

“This is Lauren from the state police department. We’re calling to let you know that the feral alpha that attacked you two months ago broke out of rehab last night.”

Adam’s stomach drops. 

“We were tracking him until about two hours ago when we lost him in your area. We have a feeling he might be making another unplanned visit.”

His heart races, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the bathroom counter. 

“Can you send the police or something? If you know he’s coming here…”

“I’m sorry, but we’re not authorized to send a unit unless he actually breaks in. Since you are mated–”

“Not by choice,” he cuts in. She ignores him.

“We are not allowed to interfere in an alpha’s business, especially one with a pregnant omega. If he breaks in, we can charge him with breaking and entering, but…”

Adam wants to scream. 

“So I’m supposed to just wait until he breaks in again? Let him molest me all over again?”

He can hear the exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. 

“I’m truly sorry, sir but there is nothing we can do as of now. Please don’t hesitate to call us if anything happens.”

Adam hangs up the phone without another word. His stomach rolls and he just barely keeps himself from losing his dinner into the toilet. He’s the target of a feral alpha. Again. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, his shaggy brown hair floppy, still dripping down his back. The scar on his shoulder still looks brand new, a perfect outline of that alpha’s fangs. His eyes wander lower and he sees the slight pouch in his lower stomach. The pouch he’d been trying to ignore ever since he noticed it when trying to button his pants one morning.

He sighs, leaning against the counter, exhausted from being on edge so often. The smell of alphas would turn his stomach, and any tall figure made him jump. This is exactly what he feared. And yet, the memory of that night, of the heat and the slick and the desire he’d felt so deep in his gut, even before the mating bite, lingered with him. 

He still dreams of that night. Of how it felt to be so achingly full with his cock and cum. He wakes hard as a rock and aching to be full once more. 

His cock twitches under the towel and he scoffs, pushing his hand against it. He can handle it on his own.  

**

His gun sits on the bedside table, the window unlocked, and the door closed. Adam is dressed this time, in boxers and a tank top, laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. If the alpha does show, Adam will be ready.

Around midnight he drifts off, exhaustion weighing heavy on him. He can’t keep his eyes open any longer. 

At least, until he hears the sound of his window shifting, opening. 

He’s up in seconds, gun in hand, pointing it at the massive figure climbing in through the window. 

“Stay right there,” he demands.

The alpha unfurls himself to his full height, tilting his head to the side questioningly. He’s not quite as wolfed out this time, but he’s still way too big for Adam to handle on his own. Adam can see a sharp jawline, a nose perfectly crafted, and his hands are almost normal. No claws. 

But his eyes give him away. Bright red, they stand out in the dark of the room, staring at Adam with hunger and something else. 

“I won’t hesitate to shoot you. You need to go back to the rehab facility.”

The alpha makes a pitiful whining noise and Adam has to keep his fingers from shaking. This is the same alpha alright. 

“Go. Please.”

The man huffs, taking a step closer, but Adam lifts the gun higher, pointing it right at his chest. 

“I mean it.” 

A low, pained growl is rumbling through the alpha’s chest, and it takes every ounce of Adam’s willpower to keep the gun pointing forward. It just sounds so pitiful, like he actually wants to be here. Like he knows where he is and wants to stay.

That thought gives him pause. What if he’s not as feral as the police think?

“Can you…understand me?”

His head tilts again, but a flash of recognition shows in his eyes, the red fading slightly, before the hunger takes over again. 

Adam sees the hesitation in the alpha’s hands. He keeps opening and closing his fingers, probably trying to control his claws. 

He’s probably insane, but he doesn’t think this alpha will hurt him. At least not now that they’re mated. And he’s pregnant. 

“I’m going to put this down. Please don’t hurt me.”

Adam doesn’t see any signs of understanding, but he trusts his gut and puts the gun down on the floor, safety still on. 

In seconds, the alpha is on him, smothering him in his scent, burying his face in Adam’s throat. He struggles for only a few seconds before he realizes the alpha isn’t trying to do anything bad. He’s just scenting him. 

“This is not what I expected,” he mumbles to himself, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s waist, if only to keep himself from falling over under the man’s weight.

There’s a pathetic little whine coming from him, and Adam somehow finds it cute. Now that he’s paying attention and not delirious with pleasure, it feels quite nice to have an alpha so obsessed with him. Even if he is a feral one. 

“You missed me, didn’t you?”

The alpha snuggles closer, pushing Adam down onto the bed, and he huffs a laugh, letting the alpha lick over his throat. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

The blue and white rehab clothes he wears are quite gaudy, but he doesn’t seem to even notice as he puts nearly his full weight on top of Adam, scenting him so heavily the room reeks of their combined scents. 

“You know, you could’ve started this way instead of what you did 2 months ago.”

The alpha doesn’t answer, just continues nuzzling him, and Adam sighs, resigned to his fate for the night. 

**

Adam wakes in the morning with the alpha wrapped around his back, both arms wrapped tight around him. At some point in the night, the rehab clothes had been shredded, and Adam’s tank top was bunched up under his chin. 

His boxers did nothing to hide the boner. He’s almost ashamed of himself, for allowing this to happen again. But…it could be worse. 

A low grumble sounds from behind him and the alpha shifts, his hips pressing up against Adam, making it very clear exactly what he’s thinking. His cock is just as big as Adam remembers, and his body remembers it very well. 

“Someone’s eager.”

The alpha shifts again, rutting up against Adam, his hips making desperate attempts to do something. Small, needy whines escape him and Adam grins, very willing to participate this time. 

“Let me help,” he says, reaching back to pull his boxers down off his ass. He’s only able to pull them down to his thighs, the alpha keeping him from moving any further. 

“I’ve got you. Do this,” Adam instructs, reaching back to find the head of the alpha’s cock, guiding it to his ass just as he’d done two months ago. Though this time, he’s enjoying it willingly. 

The alpha lets him do whatever he needs, and soon, Adam is being speared open by the alpha’s giant cock. It feels so good, so much better than he remembers. 

Adam just lets the alpha take over, enjoying the way his ass spreads around him, the way his slick leaks out around it every time he presses in. It’s so much calmer this time, nicer. 

“We can do this whenever you like if you keep this up,” he groans, pressing back. His stomach muscles tense and the alpha presses him into the bed, smothering him as he thrusts. The grunts and groans turn Adam on even more and he’s cumming in minutes, which seems to please the alpha. He wraps a hand around the head of Adam’s spent cock, coating his hand in Adam’s seed, and then smears it all over Adam’s back.

It’s disgusting, but also incredibly hot. Possessive and territorial were not on his list of turn ons, but clearly he just didn’t know better. 

As soon as the alpha’s cock starts to swell, Adam is lost to another orgasm, eyes rolling back in his head as the alpha’s tongue laves over his shoulder and throat, his cock pumping heavy loads of seed into him. If he wasn’t already pregnant, he would be this time. 

**

Adam spends the weekend at the apartment, the alpha following him around like a lost, territorial puppy. Any time Adam moves, the alpha is up in an instant, right on his heels. 

He’d tried at some point to get clothes on the man but he’d adamantly refused, even making a show of shredding the only large shirt Adam could find for him. He gave up after that. 

Adam enjoys it for the most part until he tries to go to the bathroom and the alpha follows him, standing right next to him as he handles his business. 

“You don’t have to be so close you know,” Adam says, chuckling. He tucks himself back into his boxers and washes his hands, the alpha still pressed up against his back. 

He’s unfortunately getting used to the man being so attentive. 

“Are you hungry?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing he won’t get one, and makes his way into the kitchen. The fridge is scarce but he has enough for a few ham sandwiches so he makes do. 

The alpha stays quiet, somehow staying just out of the way as Adam moves around the kitchen, grabbing the items he needs. He isn’t paying close attention though as he closes a drawer, slamming his finger hard. 

He yelps, the pain sharp but already fading. However the alpha seems to think differently. 

A low, dangerous growl rumbles through him, his chest puffed up as he yanks Adam away from the drawer, staring at it as if it could actually back down. 

“I’m fine. Stop being so clingy.” Adam tries to pull away but he’s yanked back into the alpha’s thick chest. He can feel the alpha’s soft cock against his ass and needs to think about anything else to keep himself from making a bad decision. 

He looks up, seeing the red eyed glare, and chuckles to himself. If anyone had ever told him this would be his life…

The man finally looks down, grabbing Adam’s finger, inspecting the red flesh. Not even a bruise.

“See? I’m fine.”

He lets the alpha inspect it for a few more minutes and then gently pulls away, his stomach grumbling. 

“Let me finish making food. You can scent me after.”

That finally seems to get his attention and he lets go, still not moving far but at least letting Adam finish the sandwiches. 

“Come on.”

Adam leads them to the couch, settling down into the worn but comfortable leather, placing the plates on the table and tossing a throw blanket into his lap.

He reaches for his plate, digging into his own sandwich, humming as he finally gets food into his grumbling stomach. 

The alpha, seemingly satisfied for the moment, grabs his sandwich and digs in as well, though a little more frantic and far less civilized. It’s adorable. 

 After that it’s easy to just settle into the couch, the alpha laying himself across Adam’s lap, his arms wrapped around Adam’s waist. He nuzzles into Adam’s belly and Adam feels his heart lurch, a sudden longing for a life he thought he’d never have flashing through him. 

 The curtains flutter in the breeze coming through the open windows, the tv playing something he doesn’t care about, and his alpha, his mate, is heavy and warm in his lap, grumbling softly. He never thought he could have something like this. 

**

After that weekend, it’s nearly impossible to get rid of the alpha. Not that he wants to of course. He’s used to having that constant attention and he misses it a lot when he’s not around. But he has to work. 

The first few times he tries locking the alpha in the apartment, but he always comes back to an absolute mess. His underwear, dirty clothes, even his pillow strewn across the apartment, covering nearly every inch. 

So he starts letting the alpha out, letting him roam, with firm warnings that he has to stay away from Adam. It works for a few weeks, but Adam still sees him lurking in the shadows. Watching him from a distance.

It gives him comfort to know his alpha is always so close, even if it’s dangerous.

**

“That’s your pup.”

Adam holds the blurry black and white picture of his pup up for his alpha to see. The alpha looks at it, his eyes clear for the first time in the last 5 months. 

He looks up at Adam, brows raised, and then looks back at the picture, then down at Adam’s stomach. He repeats this a few times and Adam watches in awe, nodding. 

“It’s a little boy. They say he’s big for his age. He’ll probably be a big pup.”

The alpha blinks, a sign of recognition on his face. It’s the first time Adam has seen something other than hunger on his face. At least, the first time it has lasted longer than a few seconds. 

“Do you understand me? This,” he says softly, putting a hand on his belly. “This is your pup. You put him inside me. Do you remember?”

The alpha blinks again, looking back down at Adam’s stomach, and then back to Adam’s face. And to Adam’s complete shock, his alpha nods. 

It’s not impossible for a feral alpha to be brought back. It’s just…rare. There are so many factors into what sends an alpha into a feral state, and if you don’t know what caused it, you typically can’t fix it. The rehab facilities that have popped up in the last few years boast progress now, but it’s still far from perfect. 

So to see him nod in understanding, to answer a question, it’s shocking to say the least. 

“Holy shit…”

The alpha huffs, something akin to a laugh, and Adam opens his mouth in awe. 

“Can you talk now too?”

The alpha sniffs, turning his nose up at the idea, and Adam sighs. 

“It’s ok. We’ll work on that.”

**

Police are still on the lookout for the feral alpha that attacked, mated, and impregnated the omega several months ago. Sources say the omega hasn’t had contact since the attack, and the police haven’t found a trace of the alpha since he escaped the Sunrise Rehab Facility. Any tips are welcome at the number found on the bottom of the screen…

“You need to be more careful. They’ll probably find out I’m lying soon enough.”

The first time they came knocking was a week after his alpha broke out of the rehab facility. They’d questioned him and pushed him to give up the whereabouts, but he flicked them off and closed the door. And then once a month after, they would show up unannounced, knocking on his door, making his alpha agitated and anxious. 

He’s able to hide their combined scents fairly easily with some of the pheromone eraser wall plug-ins Walmart has started selling, but every time he uses one, his alpha freaks out and spends several hours re-scenting him and the house. On those days, his alpha gets a little more feral, and Adam curses the cops every single time. He’s so close to getting this man, his mate, to come back to his human self and they keep intruding. 

A kiss on his shoulder draws his attention and he sighs, enjoying the feeling of his Alpha’s arms wrapped around his middle. His thumbs brush gently over the underside of Adam’s belly, a new gesture of content, and Adam is definitely not complaining. 

“If they find out you’re here, they’ll take you away. But if you show you can be human…”

A low growl answers him and Adam sighs, leaning back against his Alpha’s shoulder. 

“I know, I know. It’s ok, I’m not forcing you. I’m just worried they’ll try to take you from me.”

A feral alpha is a threat to the community after all. 

A short nip at his ear makes Adam jump, slapping at his alpha’s arm. 

“You are not allowed to chastise me for being worried. It’s not like you’re careful. I still see you following me to work.”

It’s his alpha’s turn to sigh, tucking his nose under Adam’s jaw and scenting him heavily. Adam groans but doesn’t argue anymore. He’s too tired for that.

**

Adam once considered himself unlucky to have few friends, but now, with his life the way it is, he doesn’t really mind it. He can hole himself away in his apartment most nights with no problem. And with his alpha slowly but surely gaining his humanity back, it has been far more fun for him to stay home. 

“This is your pup.”

“...my…pup.”

Adam nods, a huge grin on his face. 

“And this is our house. Where we live.”

His alpha opens and closes his mouth a few times before stuttering out, “...our…house. We…live…”

Adam could die of happiness right now. 

“Yes! You’re doing so well!”

A crooked smile appears on his alpha’s face, though it’s clear he isn’t used to the expression anymore. Adam can’t help himself and leans in, stealing a kiss. He’s so excited.

“Can you tell me your name? I can’t just keep calling you ‘alpha’ in my head.”

There’s a brush of pride across his alpha’s face and Adam almost chastises him for the smugness, but he’s so excited to be hearing words that he lets it go. 

“Please? Tell me your name?”

His alpha huffs but opens his mouth, feeling around for the word…

“Der…Derek.”

“Derek?” Adam repeats, rolling the name around on his tongue. It’s so much better than ‘alpha’.

“Your…alpha.”

Adam barks out a laugh, caught by surprise by the extra addition. 

“Yes, my alpha. Even if you took that title by force,” Adam jokes, but Derek’s face pinches, his forehead bunching. 

“I’m just joking with you,” he tries to reason but Derek shakes his head. He reaches forward, fingers brushing against Adam’s lips. 

“I’m…sorry.”

Adam’s lips fall open but Derek continues. 

“But I am…glad. To…have you.”

Adam’s chest tightens and his eyes start watering.

“I’m glad to have you too,” he chokes out. 

Derek smiles again, and then it’s Derek’s turn to lean in and steal a kiss from Adam. Adam laughs through the tears, falling back to the floor and Derek follows, kissing deeper now. 

A low groan slips past Derek’s lips and Adam shudders, his cock already aching in his pants. 

“Fuck, Derek~” Adam moans out. Derek’s face lights up, his eyes glittering, and suddenly Adam is so glad he knows his name. 

“Derek?”

The raw groan that comes out of him makes Adam keen, his back arching off the floor. 

Derek takes advantage of this and wraps a muscled arm under Adam’s back, pulling him up to sit in Derek’s lap. Adam chokes on a groan, his cock squished against Derek’s abs. 

His belly pokes out more now too, pressing up against Derek, far more noticeable than it had been the past few months. 

“Can you say my name?” Adam asks, hopeful as he gazes into Derek’s hungry eyes. 

Derek’s lips move, his brows pinching, but he looks determined.

“My…mate. Adam.”

Adam’s heart swells in his chest and he’s done trying to hold himself back. Derek is his mate, no matter what. 

“Kiss me, you big oaf.”

And Derek does just that. He kisses Adam so deeply, so full of desire, that Adam loses himself to the feeling. His mind goes blank, empty. At least until a solid thump from his middle makes them both pause. 

Derek’s eyes go wide and he looks down at Adam’s belly.

Adam, still trying to recover from the sudden loss of Derek’s lips on his throat, blinks down at his belly too, waiting for it to happen again. 

He’s felt the pup quite a few times, little flutters of movement every now and then. But this one is bigger. More noticeable.

Derek’s hands shift to cover the sides of Adam’s middle, and Adam holds his breath, waiting for the feeling again. 

They don’t have to wait long. 

“Our pup!” Derek exclaims, a wide grin on his face. Kick after kick pushes against Adam’s ribs, but he can’t bring himself to complain as Derek’s face grows bright with excitement. This is the most joy Adam has seen from him since…well, ever. 

“Yes, our pup,” Adam echoes, a smile growing on his face as well. He thought he would hate it. Hate the feeling of something growing inside of him. But this…this was worth the rocky start. 

“What should we name him?” Adam asks. He doesn’t really expect Derek to answer, more just musing to himself. But…

“Theo. After my brother.”

Adam is speechless. Though he’s not sure if that’s from the fact that Derek actually gave him a name, that he didn’t even hesitate once in that sentence, or that he brought up a past Adam thought he didn’t remember. 

“You…you remember your brother?”

Derek’s brow furrows and red starts to bleed into his green eyes, so Adam shakes his head, running his fingers through Derek’s hair. 

“It doesn’t matter. You can tell me when you’re ready. For now, let’s enjoy the rest of my day off.”

Derek seems to pull himself out of the memories and gives Adam a pleased, grateful smile. Adam answers it, leaning in for a kiss, slipping his tongue past Derek’s lips. Derek opens easily, his tongue intermingling with Adam’s, and suddenly they’re back to their horny selves. Even if those four words are still echoing in the back of Adam’s mind.

**

The police seem to have finally backed down, finally given Adam’s continued insistence that he didn’t know where the feral Alpha was. Which…isn’t exactly untrue. His alpha isn’t feral anymore. Not like he was before. 

No, his alpha is currently wrapped around him in their now shared bed, snoring softly. He’s learning words, learning how to make food, even learning how to read again. And Adam is so very proud of his progress. 

Theo continues to make himself known, growing ever bigger as the time passes. At Adam’s last appointment, the doctor noted his growth to be further along than normal at this point in the pregnancy, and weighing in at nearly 10 pounds. Derek had been thrilled, Adam not so much. He was the one that would have to deliver the pup. 

Derek’s arm tightens around Adam’s waist and he winces, his already full bladder being pummeled by the pup inside him. The clock on the nightstand mocks him, ridiculously bright at 3:32am. Unable to hold it anymore, he lifts Derek’s arm off of him, slips from the bed with a grunt, then shuffles to the bathroom, a hand on his lower back. That’s another thing he hates. The back aches. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he sits on the toilet, the release of his bladder incredibly welcome, and rubs his heavy middle. Stretch marks litter his sides, light pink and white all over. His bellybutton pokes out now too, which can be annoying. Most of his shirts are too tight, and it shows so prominently. Kids at work ask him all the time what it is, and he has to explain that he’s pregnant over and over. The parents are usually apologetic but he’s started to enjoy bragging about his pup. 

As if right on cue, Theo gives another kick, right against the hand he has resting on his side. Adam huffs, rubbing the skin there.

“Easy there little one or you’ll bust right out of me. Your papa won’t like that very much.”

The kicking doesn’t go away, but it does slow down. A little bit.

Adam shakes his head, using the sink counter to hoist himself from the toilet. Theo is going to be a handful for sure.

He finishes the rest of his business and shuffles out of the bathroom, only to find Derek standing right in front of the door, face tight and brow furrowed. 

“Are you okay?”

Adam blinks. He hadn’t heard Derek get up.

“I’m ok. I just had to pee. Theo likes to use my bladder as a punching bag.”

Derek doesn’t move. 

“Are you okay?”

Derek shakes his head, his huge form blocking the doorway. Even in the dark, Adam can see the tension in his shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently, slipping closer. He wraps his arms around Derek’s waist, letting his belly press up against him. It usually helps calm him down. 

This time is thankfully no different. 

“Bad dreams. I was worried. About you.”

Adam’s brow furrows and he brushes his thumb over Derek’s jaw, cupping his cheek. 

“I’m okay, I promise. Still in one piece, even if a little sore from carrying your heavy ass pup.”

Derek is caught off guard and huffs, his shoulders relaxing an inch or so. Adam smiles up at him, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Derek hesitates, his eyes growing distant. Adam has seen this look quite a bit the last few weeks, and he’s worried the memories of why Derek became feral are going to come flooding back. It’s already so rare for a feral alpha to come back to normal, and in almost all of those documented cases, the alpha nearly always goes feral again after remembering what happened the first time. There are a lot of ethical groups arguing against bringing feral alphas back from that state, because it only causes them more harm. But their argument doesn’t hold much weight because the few rare cases of successfully recovered alphas, small as that pool may be, have all stated they were glad to be back to normal. And that’s all Adam wants for Derek. 

“You don’t have to. But it can help you feel better.”

Derek deflates, his shoulders sagging. He leans in, putting his head on Adam’s shoulder, scenting him. 

“Don’t want to talk. Not tonight.”

Adam nods, rubbing his back. 

“That’s fine. Let’s go back to sleep then. My back hurts.”

Just like that, Derek is back to being the doting alpha Adam loves. He sweeps Adam off his feet, carrying him the short distance back to the bed, and Adam lets him. He enjoys it, despite himself. 

Derek shuffles Adam to the inside of the bed, closer to the wall. Usually this spot is for Derek, but when Derek climbs into the bed and wraps himself around Adam, protective, Adam doesn’t complain. This side of the bed is warmer anyway.

**

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You don’t look well.”

Adam shakes his head, rubbing away the already disappearing cramp in his side. 

“I’m alright. I only have a few more hours anyway.”

Susan doesn’t look like she believes him but she relents, handing him the clipboard for his next patient. 

Eight and a half months pregnant, he’s not exactly enjoying being up and moving around. And he would much rather be nesting at home. He’s far too close to his due date to be dealing with people that are not his mate, and Susan seems to realize this too. He’s cranky, uncomfortable, and Theo is constantly kicking his bladder, making him have to go to the bathroom every half hour. 

By the time the end of his shift rolls around, Susan already has his belongings.

“Go home. Don’t come back until after your pup is born. I won’t hear any arguments.”

Adam, loath to admit it, is incredibly thankful. He feels restless and miserable, and being here any longer might actually make him go insane. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.”

“You better! I expect to see pictures of that pup of yours.”

Adam chuckles and nods, promising to do just that before leaving the building. Thirty more minutes and he’ll be home and able to shower. And then it’s just a matter of waiting for his pup to arrive. He’s already decided on a home birth, unwilling to leave Derek out of it. And the one good thing that came out of the government repealing the Omega Care Act was the ability for Alphas to decide how long Omegas should be out of work, or if they’re allowed to go back at all. He already knows Derek will respect his wishes.

The car ride home is miserable, the cramps starting to grow worse. He knows they’re not full blown contractions yet, but they’re still incredibly uncomfortable. Thankfully, the second he pulls into the driveway, Derek is there helping him out of the car and off his feet. No doubt he followed Adam all the way home. The separation this late in the pregnancy has been rough on both of them. 

“Man, I love you so much. I want a bath.”

Derek nods, fully capable of doing everything Adam needs now, so Adam wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and relaxes, enjoying being pampered. 

Derek runs his bath, helping Adam wash his body, getting rid of all of the sweat and outside germs. Bathed, dressed, and content, Adam starts nesting, pulling every piece of clothing out of his drawers and closet. He arranges everything on the bed, fixing each item so it all lays perfectly around them as they sleep. Derek watches in silence, helping every now and then when Adam can’t reach something. 

By the time bedtime rolls around, Adam is exhausted. He lets out a yawn and Derek looks up from his spot in Adam’s lap. 

“Ready for bed?”

Adam nods, shuffling back against the pillows, letting Derek climb out of the bed to finish turning out the lights. By the time Derek gets back, Adam is fast asleep, cozy in his nest of their scents. 

**

“Can you tell me what you were like as a child?”

Adam starts small. Hopefully far enough back that it won’t spark Derek’s painful memories. Derek hums, running his fingers through Adam’s hair, his chest warm under Adam’s cheek. 

They spend a lot of their time wrapped around each other in the nest, anticipation heavy. The pup is due to arrive any day and Adam refuses to risk being out of the nest when that happens. 

“I was…a handful. My mom used to call me that. Always with a fond smile on her face.”

His voice rumbles through Adam, his breath brushing over the top of his head. 

“And your dad?” Adam asks, gently guiding the conversation. 

Derek’s fingers stop moving through Adam’s hair but he doesn’t stop talking. 

“He was good. Kind. Never cruel. Treated me with respect, even when I…disobeyed them.”

Adam chuckles, tracing his fingers over the trail of hair on Derek’s chest. 

“My luck, Theo is going to be a handful too. Just like you were.”

It’s Derek’s turn to huff, his fingers resuming their gentle, careful path through Adam’s hair. 

“He will be good. He may be a lot, but he will be a good pup.”

Adam lets himself imagine what Theo will look like. Will he be handsome like his Papa? Dark hair and green eyes? Will he get freckles like Adam? He even goes so far as to imagine Theo as a young boy, snaggle toothed, running around the yard with Derek, both of them play fighting. 

The image brings tears to his eyes. A life he never once expected, but one that would now be granted. 

“Are you okay?”

Adam sniffles, wiping his face. 

“I’m fine. Just thinking about our pup.”

Derek’s fingers shift under Adam’s chin, lifting it up so they can look at each other. 

“He will be a strong pup. You will raise him right. Just as my father raised me and my brother.”

Adam shudders a little at the easy mention of Derek’s family. Whatever happened to send Derek into a feral state, Adam is fairly positive it has to do with his family. He’s about to ask another question when a cramp steals his breath, making him whimper. 

Derek’s fingers disappear from his chin and move to the underside of his tightened middle, caressing the stretched out skin. 

“You are close.”

Adam nods, breathing hard through his nose. The cramps are becoming more consistent. 

“It won’t be long,” he promises, relaxing again as the cramp subsides. Derek reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing the wet rag he’d left there. He carefully runs it over Adam’s shoulder, over his back, taking special care with Adam’s extended middle. He’s so gentle, so careful. Like he’s scared of hurting him. 

“Derek, I–”

Ding dong.

Derek’s hackles raise immediately, his eyes bleeding red. Who the hell would be coming to the door at this hour?

“Calm down,” Adam whispers, sitting up with a grunt. His body feels so incredibly heavy, but with the sound of the doorbell ringing a second time, he sighs, forcing himself out of the nest. Out of comfort.

Derek whines and his fingers wrap around Adam’s wrist, keeping him close to the bed. Adam smiles softly, running his fingers through the dark hair on Derek’s head. 

“I’ll go see who it is. Stay here, just in case it’s the police again.”

A low growl comes from Derek at that, but Adam pats his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“I’ll be right back.”

He steadies himself on the edge of the bed, reaching down for a pair of abandoned boxers on the floor. It’s hard but he manages, with Derek’s help, to get them on, along with an oversized, overstretched shirt. 

The stairs are worse, but he takes it one step at a time, keeping a hand on the railing and his other hand on his lower back. The doorbell rings again when he’s about halfway down the stairs.

“I’m coming!”

His ankles ache, and another cramp suddenly comes at him, making him pause at the bottom of the stairs. To hell with the person at the door. They shouldn’t be bothering him right now. Especially not in this state. 

The door finally comes into vision and he huffs, out of breath. He flips on the porch light and opens the door, shocked to find an officer standing there, hands tucked into his belt. 

“Can I help you officer?”

The man, a very large Alpha, gives a slight bow of his head, a stern look on his face. 

“Sorry to bother you at such a late hour. We’ve received reports of the feral alpha in this area. Have you seen him?”

Adam wants to scream and yell and cuss at the officer. Why can’t they just leave him alone?

“Do you really think he would still be wandering around here? How many times do I have to tell you people–”

His words are cut off by a pained gasp, his hand flying to the underside of his belly. This contraction is so much stronger than the last few. The officer takes a step forward, no doubt trying to assist but Adam shakes his head, refusing to have another alpha touch him at a time like this. 

“I’m fine,” he snaps, breathing heavily. “Please. I would like you to leave.”

The officer frowns, his brow furrowing. 

“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you? There’s no reason an omega like yourself should be laboring alone.”

“I said, I’m fineeeyyaaaaaah,” unable to hold back his pained scream. It’s so much worse. The man turns to his radio, but Adam shakes his head.

“Do not call an ambulance. I wish to do this alone. At home. Leave me alOOONE!” he screams again, nearly collapsing to his knees. But to his relief, and now suddenly to his horror, he realizes Derek’s hands are the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

A deep warning growl is emanating from Derek’s chest, and Adam’s heart lurches into his throat.

“Derek, no, you can’t…AHHH!” 

The growl grows louder, and the officer is now holding a gun, pointing it directly at Derek’s chest.

“No, please, don’t shoot!” Adam begs. Derek forces him back into the house, placing his bigger body in between Adam and the officer, protecting Adam. Adam screams as another cramp breaks through him, his fingers digging into Derek’s tense bicep.

“Step away from the omega!” the officer yells, his voice far too loud. 

Red bleeds into Derek’s eyes, and claws start to form at the tips of his fingers. Adam can’t lose him like this. Not now. Not ever.

“No, please, stop! He’s not feral anymore!”

Adam takes advantage of Derek’s distracted posture to push in front of him, blocking him now with his own body. His own, very pregnant body. 

The officer lowers his gun only slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Step away from the feral!”

Adam shakes his head, struggling to breathe between the fear and pain coursing through him. 

“No! He is my mate, and the father of my pup! You cannot legally step in!”

Derek’s growl is getting louder by the second. Adam doesn’t have much time.

“Please, I am not asking for hel-AAAHHHHHH NOOOO,” he pleads, gripping his stomach with clenched fingers, falling to his knees. The pain is so intense, so sudden he can only hold his breath until it passes. 

Derek’s fingers on his back are the only thing keeping Adam sane. And if they take Derek…if they take him away…

“Please,” he gasps, begging the officer. “Don’t do this.”

Derek shifts, once again putting himself between Adam and the officer, showing his whole back to the officer. A sign of submission. A sign of trust. 

Adam shakes his head, the pain only growing, his stomach seizing under his fingers. 

He looks up, finding Derek looking back at him, his eyes no longer the bright red of a feral alpha. No. They’re beautifully, wonderfully green. And bright, full of life and fear. 

“He will not harm you,” Derek promises, his beautiful, strong face determined. 

Adam shakes his head again, silently begging Derek to stand down. To threaten an omega, let alone a pregnant and laboring one, is to declare war on the omega’s alpha. And the officer must realize it too. 

Adam can hear him calling for backup, can even smell the fear suddenly coming off of him in waves. Adam clings to Derek, holding him tight.

“Leave him be. Don’t do anything stupid. Please. For me. And your pup,” he pleads breathlessly. For the pup that is currently making himself well known. 

A whimper falls from his lips and Derek tenses, his shoulder muscles bunching under Adam’s clenched fingers. 

He never imagined this is how it would go. He wanted an intimate, careful birth, in his nest with his mate. Not here on the living room floor, tears falling down his cheeks, the scent of fear nearly gagging him. 

Derek’s fingers tremble, just barely holding back his claws. 

“Just leave!” Adam screams. He might throw up if this goes on. 

Sirens blare in the distance and his heart lurches so hard he gags, his stomach clenching hard. Derek doesn’t move. Keeps himself planted between Adam and the officer. He will not let Adam suffer. 

Adam feels Derek shift, feels his muscles bunch as he turns to look at the officer. Fear spikes and Adam’s vision goes blurry, desperation leaking out of him in waves.

The officer, despite being an alpha, looks terrified. As he should. He’s threatened and antagonized an already helpless omega. If Derek really were feral, the officer would have already been ripped to shreds. 

Derek’s back straightens, his shoulders going wide, completely blocking Adam from view. The officer raises his gun again, his fingers trembling far too close to the trigger. 

“Leave.”

One word. One, forced word. Falling from Derek’s lips. 

The officer’s eyes go wide, the gun lowering slightly in shock. 

“But-but you’re supposed to be feral,” he stutters out pathetically. Adam wants to scream at him. 

“Not anymore,” Derek answers, his voice calm and lethal. The gun stays raised, but the officer’s grip wavers.

Derek growls low, threatening. “You have threatened me. You have threatened my mate. You must have a death wish.”

The officer shakes his head, taking a step back.

“Leave. Before I tear you to shreds for making my mate suffer.” 

There’s a new fear in the officer’s eyes now. That of realization. He’s no longer dealing with a feral, likely dangerous alpha who is unaware of his surroundings. No. He’s dealing with a very angry, very scary alpha of a pregnant omega, who would win in any court case for standing his ground. And he would be too easy a kill.

He takes another step back, the gun lowering again, and Adam feels his body react to the threat backing away. His back aches and his thighs tremble, the heavy weight in his stomach is moving lower. 

“Derek,” he whimpers. “The pup. He’s coming.”

Derek’s posture changes instantly, and the officer takes the sudden advantage to sprint away, leaving the door wide open. Derek only takes a moment to close it before scooping Adam into his arms and carrying him up the stairs. Back to the nest. Back to safety. 

Adam’s boxers are a mess of sweat and slick, his hole preparing for his pup’s arrival. 

“Just breathe,” Derek murmurs, stripping Adam of his clothing. He settles Adam into the nest and Adam’s whole body shudders, the fear leaving him clammy and shaky. 

“You’re okay,” Derek whispers, climbing into the nest with Adam, wrapping himself around Adam from behind, scenting him.

“He’s gone. You’re okay. We’re okay. Let’s meet our pup.”

Adam breaks then, a sob cutting through his chest, and Derek’s arms tighten around him, holding him closer. He continues to whisper soothing words, to scent and massage Adam’s throat and stomach. Adam finally feels safe, feels comfortable enough to push, and he feels his pup so close already. 

Derek soothes him, rubbing his hand over Adam’s back, and Adam struggles on his hands and knees as his pup slowly spreads him open, splitting him apart. Slick leaks out of him like a leaky faucet, but he continues to push.

He reaches between his legs, feeling the head full of hair stuck there, so close to coming out. 

“He’s there. Adam, our pup is right there. Come on, you can do this.”

If Adam wasn’t so focused on birthing his pup, he might have noticed how sure Derek is of his words now, without hesitation or a stutter. Like he was never feral.

Adam bares down, the stretch spreading even wider, the burn so hot and painful. Derek’s soothing words do nothing to take away the pain, but they still help. Immensely. 

Adam reaches for Derek’s hand, and he squeezes hard as he pushes once more, the feeling of his pup stretching him open, the slow, tortuous spread of his hole. He nearly cries from the pain until finally, his rim gives and his pup’s head pops out, leaving him gasping for air. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his thighs aching. Derek is there, rubbing his back again, and as another contraction comes, he braces himself. He pushes again, and again and again, feeling his rim spread and tighten with every push, and after what feels like hours, he gives one last pained push…and then relief. 

He sobs at the release of pressure and he knows his pup is out. He looks back to Derek, expecting to see joy and elation on his face but he only sees worry.

“What is it?” Adam cries, struggling to move through the numbness in his legs. Derek is vigorously rubbing Theo’s back, patting him down but not a single sound escapes him. Adam stares, his stomach in his throat, the worst pain searing through his chest at the sight of his pup, limp in Derek’s large hands. 

“What’s wrong with him,” he begs, watching Derek grow more and more desperate. He pats and rubs and pats Theo’s back. A sob escapes Adam, his chest so tight he can hardly breathe. If that officer made this happen, an entire army couldn’t hold Adam back. He would get his revenge. 

Derek lets out a pained whine, his fingers trembling with their pup, so tiny despite being so heavy. Adam wants to die. Wants to fall to his knees and give in to the pain coursing through him. He’ll kill that officer, and then–

A shrill cry echoes through the room. A beautiful, incredible, perfect cry. And Adam breaks down. Derek’s own shoulders droop so heavily, so clearly relieved. 

He passes Theo over to Adam, and Adam struggles to hold back his sobs. 

“My baby. My pup. My sweet, beautiful Theo.” He keeps going, barely getting the words through the knot in his throat. Derek keeps quiet, but he doesn’t disappear. In fact, he shuffles closer, scenting the both of them so heavily the room reeks of it. And Adam, despite everything, despite the pain still coursing through him, feels a relief that nearly bowls him over. His mate, and his son. Both alive, and both perfectly amazing. He would never ask for anything ever again. 

**

Adam hums to himself softly, rocking back and forth with Theo in his arms, his beautiful pup milk drunk and fast asleep. Exhaustion clings to every inch of Adam’s body, but he’ll never trade the feeling for anything. Derek is sleeping on the bed, snoring softly. He stayed up all night with Theo so Adam could sleep, and it’s catching up to him now. 

This past month has been hectic for both of them. Derek was studied, poked, prodded, and paraded around on televisions about his ‘miraculous’ recovery from being feral. Adam was surprised at how well Derek handled everything, but given the end result was him being able to walk around in public again without hiding, he figured there was an ulterior motive to his submission. 

Now though, Derek is free. Well, mostly. He will always be on a feral watchlist, but it won’t tarnish his name or keep him from living life the way he wants to. And Adam thanks the gods that Derek wants to be here, to be with him, and Theo. 

Despite everything, despite what Adam learned of Derek’s past, things are working out for the better. Derek is happy, even if exhausted, and he’s well enough to hold a job, though he’s not exactly looking for one right now. They’re both rather enjoying their time alone, together in their house, out of the way of prying eyes. 

And Adam isn’t too ashamed to admit he’s been rather enjoying Derek’s insatiable appetite returning. They aren’t looking for another pup right now of course, but that doesn’t keep Derek from making Adam feel like a brand new man every single time they fuck. 

Even now, Adam can’t help but think about the delicious ways Derek’s tongue explored his body last night, the sinful ways in which Derek made love to him in the dark. Adam’s mouth starts to water as he remembers just how good it tasted when Derek filled his mouth and throat. The desperation he felt when Derek clamped his fingers into the back of his hair, the sinful pink flush over Derek’s body as he came, the way his stomach muscles rolled and twitched with every spurt of cum down Adam’s throat. 

Adam shakes his head, clearing his throat a little. If he isn’t careful, he’ll wake Theo and spoil all of Derek’s hard work to get him to sleep. 

Derek huffs on the bed, a low purr coming from his chest as he lifts his head, squinting over at Adam. 

“Everything ok?”

Adam just nods, too ashamed of his dirty mind to use his words just yet. 

Derek nods, dropping his head back to the pillow. 

“Are you hungry? It’s past time for lunch.”

Adam glances at the clock, surprised to see it’s already past noon. Theo isn’t exactly great at keeping to a schedule. 

“I could eat. Don’t do anything too crazy though. A sandwich is fine.”

Derek takes a deep breath before pushing himself up off the bed, his hair sticking out in so many different directions Adam can’t help but chuckle. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” he grumbles, getting up from the bed, his thin sleep pants doing nothing to hide his half hard cock. “I’ve looked worse.”

Adam snorts, thankful the sound doesn’t wake Theo. 

“You have definitely looked worse. Though I still think you look adorable.”

Derek gives him a fake laugh, his eyes bright and playful. Derek puts hand on the back of the rocking chair and Adam gladly accepts the offered kiss. 

“Whatever makes you happy,” he mumbles, placing one more kiss on Adam’s forehead. “Call if you need me. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Adam gives him a mock salute and Derek rolls his eyes, disappearing out the door. 

Adam likes this Derek. The playful, loving, doting mate. But he can’t help but miss the Derek from before. Not that he would ever want Derek to go feral again of course. He just…misses the animalistic way Derek cared for him, even if it was a little barbaric. Derek won’t admit it, but going back to normal has been hard on him, and he’s struggling to pretend that he’s ok.  

He’s had to suffer through his memories again, at least this time thankfully with help, and then he’s had to reconcile with the things he did while feral. Adam can see the pain in his eyes every now and then when he looks at Theo, the pain and guilt he feels for forcing himself onto Adam, on top of the pain he feels for the loss of his brother…it’s a lot. Adam can’t blame him. He’s not entirely sure he would have survived as long as Derek has. 

A small noise comes from Theo and Adam sighs, looking down at the tiny bundle of his pup. Theo’s eyes are fluttering, a sure sign he’s about to wake up. 

“Guess you’re right,” he mutters to himself. “Time to get up.”

Adam stands from the chair, groaning at the soreness in his lower back. Pregnancy had not been kind to his muscles. 

“At least you slept for a few hours this time. Maybe you’ll even sleep for Papa tonight.”

He only says it in hopes that it’ll come true. Derek needs a break too. 

Adam wanders into the kitchen, finding Derek plating a sandwich. Derek looks up as Adam walks in and gives him a smile. 

“He decided to get up finally?”

“Unfortunately,” Adam grumbles, sidling up to Derek. 

Derek chuckles and hands the plate to Adam. 

“This should cheer you up. Ham and Turkey, heavy on the mayo. Your favorite.”

“Oh, I love you so much.”

Derek’s cheeks flush slightly and Adam watches in awe. It’s not the first time he’s said that, but…

“I love you too,” Derek answers, looking down at Adam fondly. 

Adam has to force himself to breathe, so incredibly taken by the love and adoration written all over Derek’s face. They have a lot to work on, but maybe, just maybe, they can make this little life work. 

The End

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A Crown for a Queen

421.1. A request: The Queen of a nation is about to give birth to the next heir to the throne. Naturally such an event can’t take place in her private chambers, instead she must give birth in a public space, for the court and commoners to see. Bonus points if she has to be restrained in some way.

A Crown for a Queen

A Valiantremnant original

Pre-Story notes: Oh did this prompt ever inspire me. I initially planned on doing a fun little short story, but as I went, I wound up expanding and expanding (lol) until I got to where the story is now. I might do more with this world, but who knows. Now, quick note, due to the nature of this story, it's not very dialogue heavy. I tried to break it up as best as I could, but if I put a ton of dialogue in it, the main character would mostly be talking to herself, and given the setup here, (some dehydration) that isn't really a good idea.

In Konur, tradition insisted on a public birth of every royal child. Every. One. It had started over one thousand years ago when a changeling had sought to overthrow the royal line by replacing a newborn heir. Or by supplanting the queen. The exact reasons have been lost to history. But to prevent such a thing from happening with his children, King Okdar had his wife, Queen Anya, give birth where all could see, and all could vow that the child was indeed born to them. The method passed on to their children, and their children. A proof becoming tradition, the site of Queen Anya's labors becoming a great amphitheater. And from then on, every queen, and every princess in line to become queen would give birth in the same place, bound and visible for all. For all to see that the child born was indeed born of the queen, and for all to see the strength of their queens, to see that they had the strength to be the shield of the people of Konur. When Queen Valaina's water had broken that morning, word had immediately gone out, alerting the nobles and visiting dignitaries who had travelled weeks ago for the royal birth. Valaina had married into the royal family, and while she knew of the birthing ritual, she had never seen it before, much less thought that she would be given the honor of going through it herself. The noble houses had similar traditions, but those were usually attended by close friends and family only, nothing like the affair of a royal birth. Once the word had gone out, the royal midwife had arrived, examining Valaina and letting her know that she was only about halfway dilated, and that there would be plenty of time to arrive at the amphitheater. Valaina knew that she should have gone to see it before today, but since the tragic death of her husband, King Helbrun, she had been too busy tending the affairs of state. But now as she entered the vaulted Queen's Entrance of the amphitheater, she wished she had visited at least once. She passed carved statues, each one of a woman. As she had contractions passing them, she paid them little mind, but the odd detail struck out at her as she passed. Some were carved in obsidian, most were done in marble. Some glittered with gemstones, others were plain. Some had objects in their hands, others were empty handed. "Oh gods! Ow!" She groaned, stopping by one of the statues and gripping the edge of the alcove that held it. The contraction that held her now was fierce and made her legs shake with the effort of her womb. "Come Valaina," Marne, Helbrun's aunt called, "You can't well give birth in here, can you?"

Marne was a stuff sort of woman, with very strict ideas of propriety. Ever since the deaths of Helbrun, and both of his parents, she had been appointed by the court to be Valaina's guide into the politics and traditions of the royal family. Politics that she thought she knew from her own family's proximity to the crown, but much of it was new and strange to her. Valaina's own family, the Karroks, had been mired in political scandal shortly after her own wedding to Helbrun, and since his death, Valaina could tell that she was something of a controversial figure. Commoners and nobility alike were torn on whether to side with her or against her. A civil war seemed unlikely, but political difficulty was the norm for her these days. "If... I...GAH! Have to..." Valaina panted. "Tsk tsk," None of that, come on," Marne said, coming to her side and helping her upright, making Valaina gasp in pain as she straightened. She leaned heavily on Marne was they walked to a small chamber at the end of a series of empty alcoves that awaited statues. "Now, that's fine in here, but once you go out there, you'll have to walk alone." "Alone? What?" Marne shook her head, "I suppose with everything else going on, you haven't managed to learn about this ritual, have you?" Valaina shook her head and Marne explained. "You are carrying the heir apparent to the throne, and the birth must be witnessed. You'll be stripped in here and then you'll ascend the plinth and give birth for all to see."

Giving birth for others to see wasn't unusual. She could remember the births of a few family friends, but those affairs had allowed the mothers to wear at the very least a shift to cover themselves. "What do you mean, 'stripped'?" Valaina asked, her voice rising an octave both in fear and in pain, "OW...." "Exactly what it sounds like," Marne said, positioning Valaina in front of the doors, "Now let me help you." Valaina sobbed quietly as Marne removed her robes until she was clad only in her light shift. Marne came around front and wiped the tears out of her eyes. "Now, listen. What I can tell you while we have time is this. As queen, you are the shield of the people, and they must see you endure. You can scream, you can roar, you can cry, but don't beg. Don't ask to be released until you've given birth." "What- released?" "And- you don't know?" Before Valaina could respond, she doubled over with another powerful contraction. They were practically back to back now, and she had almost no time to reset between them. A serving girl entered through a hidden door and murmured something to Marne, who nodded in return and moved to stand behind Valaina. "We're out of time. They're ready for you. Remember, if you are to remain queen after this is over, you must be the shield of the people. Do not beg." Marne lifted the shift off of Valaina, who made one pathetic attempt to hold onto it before letting it go. Marne looked her in the eye one last time. "When I've left, knock twice on the door and walk to the center of the amphitheater. They'll guide you from there." And with that, the only one left in the chamber was Valaina, scared, contracting and in pain. She knocked twice on the door after the contraction was gone, and the double doors swung outward, nearly blinding her with the sudden light.

When she could see again, the first thing she could see was a ramp leading up from the chamber she was in. As she hobbled up the ramp, having to stop for a moment to let a slightly more powerful contraction pass, she could hear what sounded like thousands of voices. With her heart in her throat, Valaina reached the top of the ramp to see the massive amphitheater filled to capacity. It was late summer, and the bright sun beat down into the stone arena with an almost angry heat. Ahead of her, Valaina could see a raised object. A marble podium of sorts. It might have once been pure white, but age and the elements had stained it. As she grew closer to it, almost drawn in by morbid curiosity, Valaina could tell that a long, streaking stain down the front had nothing to do with the weather marring it. "... Queen Valaina of house Dar!" Valaina couldn't tell what the beginning of the announcement was, but the crowd erupted into a deafening array of both cheering and jeering. Her mostly steady waddling hitched as she had another contraction, and she gasped in pain as she struggled to keep moving forward. She held one arm across her chest, hiding her bare breasts from the eyes of the crowd, the other wrapped around her belly, trying to hide her vagina, knowing now why a midwife had attended to her, waxing her clean before arriving at the amphitheater. The same midwife stood at the base of the stone monolith, which had grown startlingly near. Valaina stopped and the midwife leaned in. "How close are your contractions now?" "They barely give me time to breathe between them," Valaina admitted. The midwife nodded and gestured to a pair of ceremonial guards. They both took one of her arms and guided her to the stone's flat top. Once there, they pushed her down firmly, though not roughly. The action made her heart beat so quickly, it seemed almost painful. "Wait, what are-AUGH!"

As she broke off to deal with the contraction, the guards attached sturdy leather cuffs to her ankles, keeping them close together. Then they pushed her thighs back until the angle was almost painful, attaching thick straps to them as well, pinning her legs fast in place. Then a strap was fixed around her ribs, above her belly but below her breasts, not too tight to breathe in, but too tight to move more than an inch or so. Then, to top it all off, her wrists were strapped above her head. "Grab these," One of the guards said, guiding her hands to wooden handles fixed into the straps. Valaina didn't understand at first, but as soon as the guards stepped away, no longer supporting any of her weight, she understood. The stone was flat, but not level. It wasn't enough of a slope to be a slide, but without support, she would have been hard pressed to remain in place. As it was, the straps began to dig painfully into her chest and thighs until she flexed her arms, supporting her weight by the hand holds provided. As she struggled to find a comfortable place on the stone, she could feel slight wear in it's surface. Grooves dug into the surface, too slight to be see from a distance, but when touching it? She could feel where someone else's, another woman's shoulders had been bound here, where her feet had been braced, where her hips had sat. She had heard about parts of this birthing ritual. but until now, it hadn't seemed real.

As she struggled to move more than an inch, the midwife ascended and stood before her. "My queen. I will perform your last check." Before Valaina could respond to her words, she flinched and groaned as the old woman's hand deftly entered her birth canal. She tried to close her legs against the straps, her hips flexing and quivering as they fought against the unyielding bonds as the midwife reached her cervix and traced it. Nodding, she pulled her hand out and turned to the speaker, descending from the platform. The speaker nodded and turned to the audience of nobles and commoners alike. "The queen is now five centimeters dilated!" The crowd erupted in both cheers and groans. Valaina wondered what they were thinking. Were the cheers because she was well and truly in labor? Were the groans because she had so far left to go? She didn't know, and any thought of figuring it out vanished as she had another contraction. "AUGH! OW OW OWowowowowowOWWWWWWWWW!" Her head, the only free part of her body, thrashed, snapping from side to side, her hair fanning out and covering her face somewhat. She wanted to curl around her belly, to hold it with her hands, despite how little she knew it would do. But even though she knew it was pointless, her arms pulled against the bindings, straining to caress her contracting belly. She groaned and gasped in pain as a new sensation struck her. Not the pressure she knew was to come, but a deep stabbing ache in her pelvis, as if the stone itself were pressing against her. When the contraction was done, she puffed and blew her hair out of her face. The sun, still beating down made being trapped under a tent of her own hair stifling.

As Valaina laid back on the stone, her eyes wandered the crowd. The back, the highest seats in the amphitheater were filled with people who she took to be commoners, though at the distance they were at, it made it hard to tell. Closer in, she could see merchants knights. People of wealth and status. But closer still, in the valley between her legs she could see nobles. Lords and ladies alike, along with their honored guests. Valaina's eyes darted, with focus at first, then worry, then frenzied panic. Her mother. Her father. Where were they? House Karrok wasn't a small house, and given their seats at court, they should have been near the front. but right at the front was the prime minister, a man who Valaina despised. Even though she knew it was someone else, she couldn't help but feel that even if he hadn't been the one to orchestrate the deaths of her husband and the former king and queen, that he still stood to benefit. The only other potential heir to the throne was only a child, and if she had also died that day, he would now be ruling Konur. Her stomach roiled in discomfort from something other than a contraction. She knew she couldn't trust the man, even if he hadn't done anything wrong. Except... except that her parents should have been there. "Where... are... they?" Valaina whispered, making eye contact with the man before she broke into another full throated scream as another contraction wracked her body, "HUUUUUAAAAAAAAAGH!" The prime minister only tilted his head, his eyes flicking to a point behind her, and Valaina knew. He had ensured that her parents were sat behind her, and far away from the center. Nowhere they could be of even minimal comfort to her.

As the day drew on, comfort became a thing of the distant past. The sun rose, and with it, the temperature. What had started out as a warm morning was quickly becoming a hot midsummer day. "Oh gods..." Valaina said, her tongue feeling thick and dry in her mouth as she lolled her head to the side, seeking a tiny bit of respite from the blazing sun. If she looked down at herself, she could only see her breasts, the top of her belly and the tops of her thighs, but what she could see of herself was that her skin was turning red under the sun. She had spent most of her life sheltered, hiding her fair skin from the sun's rays, but she remembered one day as a younger woman, when her family had gone to the king's summer palace with him and she had spent too long in the sun, and what her skin had felt like then. It felt the same now, tight, hot and far too dry. Her lips cracked as she grimaced, bracing herself as best as she could for the next contraction. "AAAAUUUUUGH! OH GODS! OWWWWW!" She could see the crowd reacting to her as she writhed the few fractions of an inch that she could, some cheering as she screamed, others looking on coldly. She shifted uncomfortably, the strap around her chest digging painfully into the top of her belly. Valaina just could not find a remotely comfortable position, her spine pressed hard against the marble plinth, her hips aching from being pulled back so far, and her hands were growing numb from being suspended above her head for so long. But the worst part was the pressure that would surge every time she had a contraction. It seemed like every time she had one, and she would try to arch her back against it, it was trying to press her flat against the plinth, taking her breath with a sudden, savage strength. And it made her want to push.

She knew that it wasn't time yet. She'd never learned from a midwife properly, but she had been curious and helped when her aunt had given birth when she was nine, and remembered a few lessons. "Now, she will feel pressure and like she wants to push for quite some time, but it will pass with each contraction," The midwife had said, "That will usually mean that she isn't open enough for the baby to come." "But if it's hurting her, shouldn't she push it out?" "Oh dear, no. If she pushes too soon, it will hurt her even more, and maybe even hurt the baby. She must wait until all that pressure stays, even between the pains." On the plinth, Valaina could feel the pressure from each contraction fading away between them, and she knew it wasn't time. She squinted her eyes and looked up at the sun. It must be close to noon now. Based on the bells that had tolled just before she entered the amphitheater, she had been strapped down to the stone for nearly six hours now. What did the midwife say she was dilated? Five centimeters? How dilated was she now? "Am-" Valaina began before breaking off into a fit of dry coughing, "Am I close?" "We cannot touch you until the baby is out," The midwife said from the base of the podium, "But I would say it isn't long to go."

An hour passed. And another. And another. Valaina's skin was an angry red and her mouth was parched. The contractions were starting to slow down, and she could barely keep her eyes open anymore. "Huuuuuuuuuunnnnngggg," She groaned, the full throated screams of agony now too much effort to give voice to anymore. The crowd's mood had shifted too. Mostly everyone who was still present was talking to each other, the dull roar of conversation from around the amphitheater competing with the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. If she had known how thirsty she would have gotten, she would have spent hours doing nothing but drinking water leading up to the ritual. "Gods, so thirsty," She panted, her tongue feeling sandy as it passed over her teeth, trying to sooth her cracked lips. Her lips were sunburned too, and moving her moth more than it took to pant caused tearing sensations that made her want to cry. She knew that if there was enough water in her body, she might have cried, not just from the sheer misery of what she was going through, but what she knew was to come. If the lips on her mouth felt this bad now with the dryness and sunburn, what would her other lips feel like when she was pushing?

The sun was starting to set when Valaina heard it. Something that always had soothed her, not matter how fiercely they would rage. And she opened her eyes to see if she had imagined the sound, or if it was real. She smiled, her lips cracking as she saw it. There it was, the billowing clouds that had produced the quiet peal of thunder in the distance. At least it would mean that she would be taken down from the plinth. While she loved a thunderstorm, she knew it was too dangerous to be out in one. But as it grew closer and the air grew mercifully cooler, no one moved to remove her restraints. What she did see were amphitheater attendants running around the stands, pulling on ropes and setting posts, erecting awnings and canvas shades to protect everyone who was watching. And she knew. She knew that the only way to get off of the plinth would be to give birth. Another clap of thunder sounded, louder this time, and Valaina didn't find any comfort in it.

The rain began about an hour after the first clap of thunder, fat drops that came in scattered bursts. Despite the stinging pains they caused Valaina's burned skin, she found relief in the chill they brought to her overheated body. And in the drops she opened her mouth to catch. She panted with her mouth open now, feeling drops fall and run into the corners of her mouth, swallowing the cool, crisp rain as it filled her mouth over and over again. She could feel water sloshing in her stomach, and groaned as her contractions, which began speeding back up as she drank, tightened her newly full belly. Now as she looked down at herself, her belly was still an angry red, but now it glistened with a wet sheen as water ran down the taut surface as it heaved and quivered with contractions. Contractions that brought the pressure back again and again, with it fading less and less each time.

"AAAAAAUUUUGH!" She screamed as another contraction clawed at her belly. She didn't know if anyone heard, as a massive peal of thunder echoed across the arena as she screamed. She wanted to move. She felt the pressure digging into her back, right where it met her pelvis, and knew that if she could just get up, even for a moment, she would give birth in minutes. Valaina wanted to ask. She was so close to asking to be let up, but she knew that as soon as she did, the crown was forfeit. Marne told her not to beg, and she wouldn't. She had to be strong. But no matter how strong she was, the contractions seemed to be stronger. Once she had been able to drink the rainwater that now ran into her eyes, and mouth when she didn't want it to, her contractions had gotten closer together than they had ever been. But that wasn't the worst of it. As the rain ran down her back, the smooth worn surface of the plinth had become so slick, she was struggling to stay in place. In the morning, her skin had stuck to it, her own weight being enough to hold her steady, but with the rain, she would slide down, the straps biting into her thighs, chest and wrists being the only things keeping her there. Her wrists cramped with how hard she held onto the handles on the wrist cuffs, but letting them go was a nightmare. She would only about an inch, but it was far enough that trying to find the handles was a nearly impossible task. And it only took a single contraction to learn that loosing her only anchor point, her only control over any of the situation was not something she could endure.

So she clung to the wooden dowels, despite the blisters forming on her hands, despite the contractions that made her want to release them and clutch at her belly, something that she couldn't do. "NooooooUUUUAAAAAAARRRRGH!" She screamed as another contraction tried to rip her apart and crush her all at once. The pressure kept vanishing, not staying like it was supposed to. She wanted to give in, to push with it, but she couldn't make herself. She couldn't force herself to push when a part of her knew it was too soon. It would hurt her. It would hurt the baby. So she panted, wanting desperately to writhe, and tried to lift her hips off of the stone, even a fraction of an inch. The strain onher muscles was making every part of her shake with effort and exhaustion, so she released the attempt, feeling her body slam the mere half inch back into place, jolting her and making her cry out again. But even that couldn't stop her from straining again and again against the restraints, trying to give herself a little bit more room. Just a little bit more...

She didn't know how many times, though how many contractions she strained and arched her body, doing everything she could from mantras to panting, from visualizing to just sheer force of will, everything she could think of doing to stop herself from pushing. But she was loosing. More than once, she caught herself giving in, tiny little pushes that made her belly swell and rise with the effort. She could barely hear anything over the patter of rain, but she could faintly hear excited murmuring in the prominent seating close to the plinth. Nobles and courtiers realizing how close she was to giving birth. If they only knew that she wasn't ready yet. "Make it stop," She begged, looking up at the sky, "Gods, make the pressure stop or let it come out!" There wasn't so much as a clap of thunder in response, only another brutal contraction that made her arch her body again. "AAAAAAAUUUUUGH!"

Eventually, she could hold back no longer. She didn't care that the pressure wasn't remaining, and some part of her didn't care how badly it could hurt her or the baby, her body had gone through enough. She had to push. When the next contraction came, she didn't arch away from it, she curled forward the tiny amount she was able to, and bore down. "HUUUUUNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGAAAAAAARRRRGH!" She bellowed out, the sound being swallowed by both the thunder of the storm and the thunder of the crowd as they all realized at once that she was fully pushing now. And she noticed something else too. Instead of fading away again, the pressure seemed to grow more intense, dropping below the spike of agony in her back and dropping between her hips, making her feel like she was sitting on a saddle. She squirmed, her body slipping on the wet marble as she tried to make the sensation more bearable, and whimpering in frustration as she found she couldn't. But the pressure wasn't fading anymore. Now she could push. She could push! "HuuuuUUUUNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAHHHH!" She screamed as she pushed with the next contraction. Her effort cut off abruptly as a sharp sting made her flinch. It had felt like a pebble had been hurled at her left breast with great speed. She looked and didn't see anything except for a small welt that grew red, even against the burn from the sun. Then she felt another sting, this one on her belly. And another on her arm. It wasn't until one hit her head that she realized. Hailstones. Small ones, only about the size of peas. More than enough to be unbearable.

"OWWWWWWWwwowowowowowowowWOWWWWWWWW HUUUAAAAAAAAGH! OH GODS!" She screamed as she pushed. The hail didn't show any signs of stopping, but at least the stones weren't growing larger as they sometimes did. She had partially expected to be released once the hail had started, but as with the rain, she was left exposed to the elements, rain and hail descending while thunder ripped the sky apart. Much like how the head in her was descending, contractions ripping her apart. One had hit quite near her eye, and she kept both of them shut now, her eyelids turning red with each bolt of lightning that shredded the sky, thunder bellowing in their wake. Between contraction, she shuddered with cold and pain as thousands of tine hailstone pelted her body. Shen she dared to open her eyes to squint at herself, she was covered in tiny welts that ranged from red to purple where she could see, her sunburned skin feeling like it was on fire, and still she pushed. She knew that as soon as the baby was out, she would be taken down, and ushered inside and away from the onslaught. bracing herself, she panted once, twice, and got ready to push once again. "HUUUU-AAAAAAAH!"

Once she was pushing, she thought it wouldn't take long for the baby to come out, but it seemed to crawl along at a leisurely pace down, every tiny movement sending zings of pain through her birth canal as it stretched around the baby. But those were nothing in comparison to the stretching she had feared. The head of the baby eventually made it down far enough that she could feel her lips parting around it. And as she feared, the sunburn that had seared every inch of her exposed to the sun felt a hundred times worse as the burned skin of her vagina began to stretch and spread around the head. It was agony, the legendary ring of fire taking on a whole new meaning as Valaina sobbed through the pain, trying to push hard enough to get the head out. But every time she stopped while waiting for the next contraction, the head began moving back in, hiding away from the chaos and noise of the world. "The... the head! Hail...' She panted, and the midwife called up, making her voice heard over the sounds of the storm. "When the head is out, I will shield it from the hail. Just get the baby out to us." Valaina nodded, her eyes still squeezed shut and she braced herself for another push, panting as she felt the contraction building. "OooooooOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAGH-"

Her efforts cut off and her head fell back as a shock of pain exploded in her calf. Her eyes snapped open and she screamed, her thigh spasming and she writhed, feeling the white hot feeling cut through her concentration. Over her own screaming, she was dimly aware of screams in the crowd, and she knew something was wrong. Time seemed to slow down as she watched a projectile dart across her belly, the head scoring a thin line over her as a crossbow bolt pinged off of the marble, leaving a small chip in the surface and bouncing off, missing her by millimeters. "SEIZE THEM!" A voice commanded, and Valaina tried to turn to look, seeing one of the assailants, crossbow in hand being cut down by men with swords, his weapon clattering the ground, along with several bolts. She heard the snapping twang of another crossbow, and heard someone shout in pain before another scream and clatter told her that another had just been cut down as well. She strained her neck, trying to look down, but the hail bouncing down on her and something new told her what she already suspected. A crossbow bolt as embedded in her calf, the hailstones hitting the shaft with the same speed as the rest of her body, making small shocks of pain radiate up her leg. All of this came to her and faded in a few heartbeats as the interrupted pushing effort seemed to aggravate the contraction, which redoubled it's efforts with savage force. Valaina rallied herself and pushed again, screaming so loudly her throat began to hurt. She had to finish now, there were assassins! She had to get the baby out so she could leave! "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! COME ONNNNN!" She screamed, pushing so hard her head began to quiver with effort.

And with a sudden pop, Valaina let her head drop back with a sharp clack against the plinth as she felt he pressure snap back as the head came fully out, and she laid there panting as the crowd cheered wildly. She opened her eyes and looked down to see the midwife moving quickly, holding her hands out over where she assumed the head was. her belly was still too large to see anything below it, so Valaina had to hope she was protecting the head from the weather. The contraction didn't fully let up, easing for a moment, then pulsing back stronger than ever as Valaina pushed again, and felt the baby rippling and squirming as it was pushed out of her belly and into the world.

She was expecting cheering at the completion of the birth, but she still started at the sheer intensity of the crowd's expression of joy. She also didn't care bast the reflexive startle. As she heard the baby cry, she was completely taken in by the sweetness of the sound, the only other sound that mattered being the jingling of keys and chains as the straps were undone. "Oh fuck!" she yelped as she nearly slipped off and hit the ground, but the ceremonial guards caught her as she slipped, and guided her to her feet, the midwife handing her the baby, a girl. She wanted to melt, to just sink down with her baby, but the midwife held her upright. "The ritual is not complete yet. You must walk." Valaina felt her eyes go wide, shivering and barely able to stand, "Walk?" "You must exit as you entered, and then you can rest." Before Valaina could respond, she jerked and screamed in pain once again, her daughter flinching and crying at her expression of pain as the crossbow bolt was pulled from her leg. Valaina turned and looked at the path to the ramp, surprised to see it lit by torches, and dimly wondered what time it was. The path looked longer now than it had that morning. But she had to. For her daughter. For the kingdom. She braced herself, and straightened as much as she could, feeling the umbilical cord pulling at her lips as she did, and found she couldn't get past a half upright hunch. Each step was an eternity, her legs shaking so badly, she was surprised they held her weight, but eventually, she found herself at the top of the ramp and descending to the doors that had been opened once again. It was only a dozen more steps before she was out of the hail and inside the stone vaults of the amphitheater. Once the doors were closed, she felt her legs give out, and she was caught before she hit the floor.

She was bustled into what was called the After Chamber, a large space with a massive soft bed, a warm fire and numerous attendants who helped her deliver the afterbirth and dispose of it. Then, while the baby was being looked over, more attendants began lathering Valaina's body in a thick fluid squeezed from plants into her skin. Their efforts burned and stung, but afterwards, everywhere they rubbed began to feel soothed and relaxed once again. "Aloe," One of them explained, "It will help with the sun burn." Valaina didn't have the energy to reply, even to thank them, she just nodded tiredly, her vision fading in and out. "By what name are you calling your daughter?" The midwife asked as she examined the baby, and Valaina felt her eyes snap open. She hadn't really thought of one, but a name came to her now. Not her mother's name. As much as she loved her mother, she had told her nothing of the rigors of birth. She had no sisters. No aunts who's names she liked. But there was a name, the name of the midwife who Valaina had sit with as her aunt Kalunda had labored, and knew. "Her name is Ainara."

One Year Later

It had taken Valaina nearly two weeks before she was strong enough to leave the After Chamber. She quickly found that it had been built with that kind of time in mind, being fully stocked with supplies and materials to allow such a long recovery. When she did finally walk out of the vaulted entrance, she found a newfound respect waiting for her. Few queens had given birth in such a storm, and none had ever done so with a crossbow bolt in their leg. The bolt in question, along with the one that had narrowly missed her had been presented by the prime minister to her as a gift. It came with a sincere apology for regulating her parents to such distant seats in the arena. And while Valaina was still unable to forgive him for that, she took the bolts in the spirit they were intended, keeping them as a relic in the archive.

But the day Ainara turned one, she was standing in the square in front of the amphitheater, looking up at a shrouded statue. She didn't know who had commissioned it, but she felt it was Marne. With little ceremony beyond a short speech about the statue's commissioning, the veil was removed. Valaina gasped as she looked at it. She was depicted as a powerful figure, one hand held protectively over her belly, her other outstretched with a crossbow bolt held in her open palm. The statue's hair, her hair, as bound and pinned in place with the other crossbow bolt, and a lightning bolt crossing it. but what caught her breath were the hundreds of small gems dotting her form, and she knew that these represented the hailstone that pelted her through her birth, She felt a tear come to her eye as she looked at it, feeling the phantom pains of both the hail and the crossbow bolt sting her as the crowd applauded and cheered the statue commemorating their queen.

[imagineyourepregnant]

First Person - Ch 1

Note: Hello ModB. If you by chance are taking new submissions, would you accept stories that have been posted elsewhere already? I have this story in progress that I want more people to see.

Chapters 1-3 out of 6 of  the story have been posted on my blog, though the writing overall isn't finished. Chapter 1 got 10 likes over a week which is alright, but the latter chapters have been getting literally 0 exposure for many days. If this could be up on IYP, it'd be a great help to me as a new writer, and I think people would interested in the story for the premise. 

(ModNote: As long as it's your own work and follows the rules of the blog, you can submit anything :) )

By: @hardcrowncherryblossom

The first time it clicked for me was when my classmates laughed at me for not seeing a drop of ketchup on my clothes in grade school. 

The first time it clicked for anyone else was when I played a first person shooter with them and looked down. 

I have the same vision as the characters do in those games — I see my arms perfectly, but up to my shoulders and to my torso and legs… it's all transparent. 

Most people then immediately pointed out how weird it was when I said that clothing vanishes in my sight when I put them on, though sleeves are still visible. 

This isn't a hard and fast rule, but often, something is transparent if I think of it as part of myself, and if something's added on without me noticing, it also becomes transparent. 

I feel everything around my body though: touch, temperature, pain, yada yada, from head to toe. My reflections in mirrors are always blurry unless I really really concentrate. Even then, I only see a small area. The same blurry view also goes for my shoulders. 

No, I don't have face blindness. No, I don't know how I can perceive the miniscule amount of light that goes through my body perfectly whilst seeing everything else as well. (Damn physics nerds.)

People also wonder how I don't always stub my toes, or have some bodily injury by not being able to see my body. I then explain proprioception to them. Those explanations have gotten rather terse for a while, especially since I realized my condition is not that hard to hide. 

I must admit though, my sense of where my body parts are has been pretty wonk this while. 

You see, I'm currently quite pregnant — 39 weeks and 6 days with a baby boy. 

—

“Here, please make yourself comfortable, Doctor Lane will be here shortly.”

I gave my thank-yous as I waddled into the examination room. It was unfortunately small and cramped, unlike the delivery suites a hallway over. I consciously walked sideways when approaching the bed, which was right next to the ultrasound machinery. 

I sat down, kicked off my sandals, and laid on the inclined bed. I pulled my unseen hoodie up to expose my belly. Its white cotton weave briefly registered in my eyes. 

It was sad Henry couldn't come to this (probably final) checkup with me. Our son had grown huge, and so often he couldn't keep his hands from the bump. 

He said it looked gorgeous, and loved running his fingers down the linea nigra. I didn't deny it’s there, but to me it was just an arbitrary kind of geometry people looked for. It seemed too conveniently centered, and who wouldn’t be interested in the most obviously stretched part of the belly?

I was lifted from my thoughts as the doctor knocked and entered. 

“Good afternoon Ashley, how have you been?”

“Pretty good, though my feet kinda hate me now.”

“Ah, swollen feet. It's pretty much unavoidable this late in pregnancy,” she said as she sat down at the computer. The keys of an old keyboard cackled loudly. 

“I would recommend you and Henry do some foot massages. Try elevating your feet, and doing gentle strokes from toes to ankles with moisturizer. Use two hands on one feet at a time. Don't go too deep.”

Doctor Lane pushed back from the desk with a bottle in hand, “Alright, let's have a look at baby Oliver.”

The doctor squirted the ultrasound gel onto my lower belly. I exhaled as the cold seeped in. 

Through my body, I could see the gel and the wand spreading it across my skin. 

It was a translucent film that hugged my skin. It looked like patterned glass with random dips and swirls against the drab off-white of the walls. It’s always fascinating to see how my body appeared, even just a rough contour. 

“Here, take a look.”

I let my attention on the belly linger for a moment longer, before looking at the screen. 

As with most things that image my body, I couldn’t perceive much. I’ve seen ultrasound pictures my friends shared, and they look kind of unreadable to begin with unless it were obviously a baby’s head. What I saw was a grayscale screen with blobs of white moving about on a black background. 

“Here, that’s the head, hands, and two nice little feet.”

I smiled, as was appropriate. I suppose I didn’t necessarily feel whatever warm fuzzies others might have, since I couldn’t make out anything, but I glad he seemed healthy by the tone of the doctor. 

Speaking of which, I never did tell Doctor Lane how I saw the world. I guess the need didn’t arise yet. 

“Oh, you feel that? Big kick just then.”

I did, retroactively, as I was pulled from my thoughts again. When I looked at my belly, the gel was much more transparent. As I got used to having it on my skin, the image fades like my clothes did. 

The doctor looked again at different angles, asked me a few questions, then prodded at my belly and vagina afterwards. 

“Okay, Ashley, everything’s going well. Oliver is healthy and has a good presentation. I don’t see anything that raises concerns immediately, if anything, you’ve already started to dilate. 

“However, he is growing larger than average, and you are very close to your due date,” the Doctor Lane said as she finished typing her logs, “Given you haven't had many contractions so far, I would recommend doing a membrane sweep, to help your labor along.”

She explained the procedure. With my cervix slightly open, she’d reach in and separate the amniotic sac from the cervix with her finger. This would help speed up dilation, and have the baby be born before he grew too big. 

“...so your cervix would be more tender and perhaps sensitive. Also note that you might feel some discomfort in the area, and your contractions could get more intense. Other than that… oh, yes, this will not stop you from having sex, as long as both you and Henry are comfortable, and your waters haven't broken.”

I felt my face warm up at the mention. Being so heavily pregnant, I often find myself too tired despite both of us being eager. Some friends have commented how lucky I was for Henry to like my body in this state, or that I still enjoy sex this late. 

Mulling over it briefly, I texted Henry about the procedure. He wanted to go ahead as well. 

“Babe”

“Your son’s too big”

“Doctor wants to do a membrane sweep”

“https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/treatments/21900-membrane-sweep”

“sure”

“Do you want it?”

“Mmm”

“Yea”

“Can’t wait to meet him”

“You’ve said that since month 3 lol”

“You were right about him being a boy too”

“haha”

With men, I completely understood, but when I heard other mothers say they couldn’t wait to meet their baby, I’ve often found it a tiny bit weird. The kid’s been in you for the past however many months, right there. 

I guess the problem was not seeing them, but even after they’re born there was plenty of clothing to cover them. What made that more wonderful than having your child in your own body, where you might actually have felt everything?

Alas, I pulled myself from the train of thought. I’ve been having these introspections a lot lately, and maybe a bit too many when someone was waiting on me. 

“Yes, let’s do it.”

—

“Alrighty,” the doctor said as she doffed her gloves, “that should be everything.”

The process took no more than three minutes. It wasn’t much different than a vag exam, though it certainly went deeper. 

I got my legs off the stirrups and gingerly sat myself up. There was a bit more pressure down there, but nothing overtly uncomfortable. 

She offered me tissues, and I wiped my belly of the ultrasound gel, making them reappear, then put on all my legwear. 

Just as I got my pants on, I felt a contraction seize my belly. I've been getting used to them as they gained in strength. 

I pressed a hand against my belly and breathed. From my vision, it was as though I was only holding my hand in mid air. 

And for the briefest moment as the contraction peaked, I saw a shadow at where my abdomen was. 

It disappeared right after, and the seizing let up. 

“One final question,” the doctor asked as she helped me get off the bed, “are you still planning to deliver your baby here at the hospital?”

“Uh- um, yes.”

“Alright! Take it easy, don't hesitate to call us if you have any concerns. We'll be ready for you and your baby.”

—

On the way home, I couldn't stop thinking about that shadow. I've seen plenty a weird or icky thing through my body, menstrual blood for example. But that was unlike any other. It looked as though it were squarely within my abdomen. 

Could it… be the baby?

[imagineyourepregnant]

I just wanted to reach out and request/encourage more from Rambles, specifically the story about the woman who gives birth for a god 👀 Mayhaps it's time for another demigod?

Regardless, thank you for writing fun horny things that aren't filled with misery for the pregnant women! May you write many more horny ramblings and have fun while you do it ✨

Attn Rambles!

-ModB

[imagineyourepregnant]

The Tragic End Of Melanie Trent (Part 1 and Part 2)

Writer: skye-charmer-writer

(Trigger Warning: Death, blood, gore, bad ending, depiction of vehicular collisions, references to sexual crimes, big tiddy goth Millennial mommy-to-be protagonist, references to dated works of media and real people, references to mediocre sex)

(Note: To be honest with you, I was, like, so, so uncomfortable while writing this. After finishing this story, I realised I am afraid of Millennial MILFs.) 

Part 1: A Millennial and Two Zoomers

Melanie was 37 years old and had been off the dating market for quite some time now. She had realised many years ago that all the good men were either gay or asexual. There was no hope of finding a man who was looking to settle down and start a family with her. In short, everything related to sex and relationships had stopped being interesting to her for the past two years.

But recently, Melanie had started feeling a strange hankering for the touch of a man. It was maybe her biological clock telling her to fill herself up with a kid or something, but something was definitely wrong with her. Regular porn wasn't enough to satisfy her anymore and she needed a man made of flesh and bones to bone her. So, two months ago, she set up a dating app profile and started fishing for someone to satisfy her desire.

“God, the men my age are either in a relationship or going for younger girls,” Melanie had thought when she found there weren't as many fishes in the ocean as she had believed. She became desperate. Matches were hard to come by and almost everyone her age appeared to be incompatible with her. She was about to give up the dream of being boned by men when an idea came to her mind. “What if I start looking for younger men?” she thought. There was a risk of her plan failing because the tastes of young men were vastly different now than what they were back in the day. However, mass and popular media had constantly pushed the message about the hotness of women her age, and she felt confident that there would be at least one young man who would want to get dirty with her.

To Melanie's surprise, she found two instead of just one. One man was named Greg and the other was Cade. Both of them were around 22 years old and were best friends. At least, that's what they had told her. The two of them were looking for a no-string-attached threesome opportunity and had come across her dating profile. The duo exchanged messages with her that revealed what they were looking for.

Hollywood movies such as American Pie had put into the minds of Cade and Greg that sex with a woman like Melanie was going to be awesome. They had even compared her to Hollywood actress Jennifer Coolidge and told her how they had a huge celebrity crush on the lady. The Internet culture had further strengthened their beliefs in superiority of 30-something women over 20-something women. The word “hag” had been thrown around by the two men to show affection towards her. She was upset by being called that term, but didn't show it. If she had turned them away, she might not have received another chance to get boned.

Pictures were exchanged and calls were made between Melanie and the two men, Cade and Greg. “It feels so wrong. Am I a predator?” she had thought after looking at the pictures of their stiff privates. But lust soon overcame her doubts and she agreed to meet them at a motel outside town. This was going to be her first sexual encounter in two years. “I better dress up to look enticing,” she thought and began looking for nice and sexy clothes in her wardrobe to wear that day.

The day arrived and Melanie put on a sparkly black dress with a pair of purple go-go boots that went up to her shins. Her lips were covered in matte black lipstick, and her eyes were lined with purple eyeliner. The dark makeup and clothes contrasted greatly against her pale white skin. She had shampooed her short brunette hair properly to give off a good fragrance. Back in her late teens and early twenties, she had had longer hair that reached her shoulder blades, but watching a friend’s similarly long hair getting caught up in a car door had made Melanie change her hairstyle. “You look like a fucking diva, girl,” she told herself after looking in the mirror. She put on a generous amount of perfume on her chest and armpits, then headed out the door.

She pressed a small button on the keyfob of her 2017 Honda Civic Si and the car responded by unlocking its door for her. She pulled the latch on the door handle and settled herself inside the driver's seat. The seat belt was fastened and she patted the car’s dashboard. “How’re you today, Edward? Your mama’s gonna get laid today!” she said to the Civic. “Edward”, as she called it, was her baby. She had bought Edward new as a gift for herself on her 30th birthday. The two of them had experienced many things together over the years. She had named it after her favorite fictional character, Edward Scissorhands.

Melanie pulled out of her apartment complex’s park slowly, then started accelerating like a newbie driver with no impulse control. She was happy about the impending sexual encounter, and her driving showed her happiness. She eventually reached the motel before the time that Google Maps was showing her. Her younger partners, Cade and Greg, had already arrived at the spot.

When Melanie got out of the car, Greg dumped a bit of early splooge inside his underpants after watching her shapely figure climb out of the low sedan. “Huge melons!” he ejaculated, through his mouth and also through his cock. “Man, show some respect! You're gonna get us both screwed over!” Cade scolded his buddy and gave a light slap on his back to bring him back to reality. “Sorry, dude. Let's meet her,” Greg told his friend and they started walking towards her.

Greg was White, just like his last name, and Cade was Black, unlike his last name, which was Green. Melanie locked the doors of Edward and turned to find the duo standing beside her. “Miss Trent, you look fabulous! It will be a pleasure to have intercourse with you,” Greg, who was still somewhat awed by her, said. She responded bluntly, “Cut that fancy crap out, man. I am here to fuck, not to be praised.” He mumbled and apologized, “Oh, of course! I am sorry. Let's go inside.” 

Cade added, “Inside her, you mean?” Then both of them began to laugh. She was annoyed by their antics but didn't say anything.

The trio then began walking towards the motel they had chosen for their horny misadventures. Melanie asked a question, “You guys are clean, right? No VD or anything?” Neither of the young men replied at first and only stared at her in puzzlement. Then Cade spoke, “VD means STD, right?”

She cursed herself in her thoughts for using an archaic term for sexually-transmitted diseases. “Yeah, right. STD. You guys are clean?” she asked them again after clarifying their doubts. Cade answered, “Yes, both of us are clean.” 

“Good. Let’s go and jump right in,” she told them. While she had shown concern towards the fact she wasn't going to screw two young men who might have an STD, she had completely forgotten about being on her period. Although her cycles had started becoming irregular, there was still a potential of her ending up pregnant with a baby.

“There's no way I am gonna get pregnant at this age,” she thought to herself as she walked in the reception of the motel. A younger woman wearing glasses was working at the desk of the place. She had green hair and appeared to be in her early twenties. She appeared to be expecting a child, given the shape of her abdomen, which greatly stretched the light green dress she was wearing. She greeted the group, “Good evening. How can I help you today?”

Melanie was the one who spoke, “We would like a room for us three people. How much for one night?” While this conversation was going on, Cade and Greg were fiddling with their phones, and paying zero attention to her. The younger woman replied, “That’ll be fifty dollars. Sign here.” After the form was signed, she handed the keys to a room to Melanie and told her, “Room 069. Third door on the left down this corridor.”

After she took the keys, she addressed the young men who were supposed to drop their splooge inside her later tonight, “Let's go. What’re you waiting for?” They put their phones in their pockets and followed her down the corridor. After reaching the third door, she pushed the key into the lock and unlocked the door. As she was pushing it open, Cade whispered to Greg, “Man, we are gonna love pushing our cock into her just like she pushed that thing into that!” Melanie heard them, but only rolled her eyes and didn't say anything. She wasn't interested in making them upset.

The room was decent enough for the price Melanie was paying for it. There was a bed, a “cuck” chair, and a wardrobe for placing one’s luggage in it. However, the only luggage she had with her was her rotund butt and taking it off was not possible without surgery. As Cade and Greg were two rather large young men, she wondered if all three of them could fit on the bed at the same time. After staring at the bed for a few seconds, she told them her plan, which basically consisted of the order in which she wished to be screwed by them.

Greg was going to go first and dip his pickle inside her taco, while Cade was going to follow his moves later. Melanie glanced at the groins of the young men after informing them of her plan, then began taking off her clothes. The young men also began removing their clothes in anticipation of screwing the lights out of her. The dress came off first, followed by the pair of bras, and finally the panties were removed. The clothes of the men followed a similar pattern. In the span of a few minutes, the three occupants of the room were standing completely naked.

Melanie didn’t waste any time climbing aboard the bed because she could see something forming on the tip of the young men. If she wished to experience the thrill of having a load shot into her, she needed to act quickly to preserve their cum. When she lay on her back, Greg climbed aboard and straddled her between his legs. Then, came the insertion, which was followed mere seconds by the gush of release. Needless to say, she was disappointed in the performance.

But nothing could have prepared Melanie for what Cade was packing between his legs. He was hung. “Holy fuck!” she whispered as he slid into her and kept sliding. He was almost hitting the walls of her closed cervix. She almost puked from the feeling of having her insides rearranged by him. He lasted much longer than Greg had. When he released his organic material inside her, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists from the intense nature of the release. As he removed his weiner, she felt the excess material dripping out of her.

The sexual encounter had come to an end and it was time for Melanie, Cade, and Greg to clean themselves in the bathroom. She was the first to take a shower. The young men made obscene gestures at her groin as she entered the bathroom. These gestures were enough to frighten her because she wondered whether they wished to go another round, but without her consent this time. She had never felt this scared before.

Melanie got out of the bathroom and quickly began putting her clothes on as the gaze of Cade and Greg lingered on her curvaceous figure. She could feel she was going to be the victim of a sexual crime if she didn’t leave immediately. She finished dressing up, grabbed her purse, and took off down the hallway after opening the door. She didn’t look behind her. She didn’t stop at the receptionist asking her to slow down. She pressed the key fob as she reached the door of Edward, her Honda Civic SI, climbed aboard it and turned the engine on. The tyres spun in the gravel parking lot after she dumped the clutch following a shift to the first gear. Soon, the motel was in her rearview mirrors.

Despite the frantic escape that Melanie had made from the motel following the sexual encounter that was beginning to turn ugly, she was never going to escape her fate. The moment she was done with Cade and Greg, their swimmers had started hammering away at the biological barriers present within her. Very soon, she was going to find out why being the protagonist of a pregnancy smut sucked big time.

Part 2: Misplaced Priorities

Close to nine months had passed since Melanie had been screwed by Cade and Greg in a motel. Since that day, her life had changed forever because one of the men had left a biological surprise for her inside her womb. Ladies and gentlemen, she was pregnant with the child of either of the young men!

Nothing in Melanie’s life had prepared for the strange and disturbing symptoms of pregnancy she experienced over the next nine months. Sometimes she felt nauseated, sometimes she felt light-headed. Sometimes she craved chalk, sometimes she gagged at strong odors. There was no telling what symptoms of pregnancy were gonna disturb her next.

Melanie had been kind enough to let her Baby Boomer father, John, know about his grandchild growing inside her womb. He was excited to learn of this growth inside his daughter. He expressed his joy at learning that one of his two children had chosen to have intercourse with living beings. She would have contacted her mother, Jill, as well had she not hanged herself during a schizophrenic episode around twenty years ago. Her schizophrenic nature was what John had found attractive about her. He often lamented the loss of their great sexual life after Jill’s suicide.

Melanie was going to call her brother, Timothy, as well but couldn’t contact him because of him being on the sex offender registry. His presence on the registry meant that he didn’t carry a cell phone to avoid being detected and often used made-up names. She knew he was alive because he often wrote to her. That’s why, after much thinking, she chose to inform him through some letters. The sexual crimes he had committed were extremely disturbing but those hadn’t made her cut contact with him. In her eyes, he was her innocent baby brother who wouldn’t dare to harm anyone.

Melanie had to make some changes when it came to her choice of vehicles due to the baby that was growing within her. Driving a low sedan like Edward, her Honda Civic SI, was out of the question. Her protruding belly had made bending and moving very difficult for her. So she made the rational decision to sell off Edward to a woman whose womb was still empty. As a replacement, she bought a 2024 Honda Odyssey in light blue. The previous owner let go of the car for around $ 30,000. The costs of child rearing were starting to show up before the birth had even happened. She was upset by the reality of having unprotected sex.

Money wasn’t going to be that much of an issue for Melanie as it would have been for younger pregnant women because she worked at a good position at a business firm. She had risen to this position through her work ethic and a tendency to throw coworkers under the bus for her mistakes. Now at 37 years old, she even had a few younger workers under her supervision. They referred to her as “Ms. Trent.” She demanded that they give her the respect that she hadn’t received much in her life. Some of them genuinely feared her. Her curvaceous figure due to the pregnancy had made her even more menacing.

The day Melanie gave birth had begun like any other day. She was at her largest ever size and had some slight trouble even putting her clothes on. She had made a decision to go on maternity leave but that day never arrived because she ended up having her baby in front of her coworkers later that day. She was wearing a light blue maternity blouse, a white unbuttoned blazer, and light blue maternity skirt with a belly panel. Underneath all this, she wore a pair of lacy panties that accommodated her now humongous butt. She had chosen to skip a bra that day but had placed some tissue papers in her blouses to absorb the breast milk she so often leaked. The tissue papers also helped hide her erect nipples, which were in that condition because of being ready for breastfeeding.

During the drive to her office, Melanie had begun feeling the first wave of contractions battering her full womb. She was not an idiot but wasn’t entirely sure that skipping work to head to a hospital would be the right thing to do. She was currently working on an important project along with her team and the completion of it was necessary to receive a large paycheck that would cover many of her expenses related to her unborn child. That’s why she patted her belly and told herself, “I am doing it for them. I can’t just turn around now. I have to wait one more day.” The individual that she was referring to was none other than the child in her womb and whose gender was still a mystery for her. She loved mysteries and solving them.

But getting to work was going to be easier said than done for Melanie because the contractions were intensifying at an unnatural pace and she was slowly losing the ability to drive. Her Honda Odyssey was jerking back and forth on its suspension as it was moving down the road. Her foot was slipping off the accelerator pedal due to the pain she was feeling in her lower back and the pressure she was feeling in her vagina. “Oh God! Make it stop, please!” she cried for the first time as the reality of being in labor set in.

Out of a sudden Melanie heard the sound of something popping and felt liquid trickling down her thighs. She glanced at her crotch briefly and found that a foul-smelling liquid had begun to pool in her seat. This liquid was coming from her vagina and had managed to soak her panties in seconds. “God, my-my water… I am not giving birth in Judas! I am not doing that!” She whimpered and made the decision to not give birth in “Judas”, which was the name she had given to her 2024 Honda Odyssey. She had named it after favourite band.

Melanie turned the steering wheel to the right abruptly as another contraction struck her and she lost her strength momentarily. Her Honda Odyssey hopped the kerb and struck a garbage can with its right side. Thankfully, because she had been struggling to accelerate due to the contractions, she wasn’t travelling that fast. But the collision messed with the position of the lower portion of the seatbelt and it ended up riding up her pregnant belly. Thus, when the seatbelt held her back from hitting the steering wheel, it also ended up accidentally compressing her womb. Her baby, unfortunately, shot through her vagina that hadn’t even stretched and ripped open their own mother in the most graphic manner. She gave a loud cry when her entire vaginal canal got shredded by her own baby.

Pedestrians and other drivers who heard Melanie’s blood-curdling cry and saw her collide came to her help immediately. But there wasn’t much they could do besides consoling her as she writhed in the driver’s seat in pain. Her skin began to become paler and paler as blood flowed freely out of her. Some of the concerned citizens were kind enough to let her know that she had given birth to a baby boy. They intentionally kept the condition of the baby hidden because he hadn’t survived the disastrous birth. By the time paramedics arrived, Melanie was no more.

End

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[imagineyourepregnant]

Born On A Date

Writer: skye-charmer-writer

(Trigger Warning: Distaste for pregnant women, references to teen pregnancy, suicide, self-harm, misogyny, references to anime, references to ethnic nationalism, references to stillbirth, domestic abuse, abusive language, edgy comedy, first-person narrator)

(Note: This one could be a bit too extreme for Tumblr.)

I had no idea why I had chosen to do this. But here I was, seated at a café in this podunk town, to meet a woman. But this was not a real date in any way. I had seen her online offering her services as a “rental” girlfriend of sorts. She claimed that she had learned about the concept in some Chinese cartoon and wanted to test its efficacy by applying it in this shitty Missouri town. But there was a twist to her service that was only revealed when she showed up.

After waiting for around five minutes, I saw a gorgeous pregnant caucasian woman coming my way. At first, I didn't recognise who the heck she was and why she was waddling like a penguin toward me. Then she asked a question that cleared all my doubts, “Are you Vincent? Remember we chatted online about the arrangement?” I had to give a positive reply because that's who I was and that's what I had done.

As it turned out, the pregnant woman before me was going to be my “rental” girlfriend for the next six hours. She told me her name was Jane but didn't bother to give me a last name. I guess this line of work required a sort of secrecy that an exchange of last names just didn't provide. I wasn't too interested in that either. Instead, I was interested more in learning why she had chosen to show up while she looked ready to deliver her child.

Once I mentioned my questions to Jane, she looked almost ready to cry. She babbled, “What? You don't like me being pregnant? Why can't you see I am just trying to make some money for my kid? If I didn't have to do that, I wouldn't have tried to sell my body online and show up to dates with sexist men like you while in labor?” For a moment, I thought I had misheard something. So not only was this whore cunning enough to hide her pregnancy while talking to me, a potential client, she was also stupid enough to meet the client while having labor pain? I really wanted to leave this whore, Jane, all alone here to café to cry this baby out. But her sob story that she began telling stopped me in my tracks.

According to Jane, she had a boyfriend who was very into these Chinese or Japanese cartoons like she was. After he heard that the birth rates of these countries had taken a nosedive, he decided he wanted to do his part to reverse the trend. Then an issue arose because neither Jane nor her boyfriend were of the correct race. He modified his plan to make her pregnant so at least the birth rate of caucasian people would go up. She wasn't open to it entirely but loved him too much to decline.

But once the realities of a pregnancy began to affect Jane, her boyfriend beat the living shit out of her in hope of killing the baby. He failed because her baby was probably one tough cookie. She didn't want to report him to the cops because she loved him too much to do that. But her parents and siblings learnt of the beatings and dragged her boyfriend's ass off to the nearest police station after smacking the shit out of him. He confessed without putting up a fight. Jane had been alone ever since then.

When I asked Jane why she turned to practically being a whore despite having a good financial backing from her parents, she said, “I was lonely. I felt like I wanted to kill myself for my putting my boyfriend in jail.” That was more or less the answer I was expecting. Her entire personality was fractured by the arrest of her boyfriend even if it was justified. She got the idea of giving a “girlfriend experience” to men for a fee from one of those Chinese or Japanese cartoons she watched.

But men rarely stuck around when Jane showed up with a baby bump. When she began this venture of hers, she was close to the end of the second trimester of her pregnancy and many men didn't appreciate that. I know I didn't for a fact. Even if she had to listen to men call her a liar for hiding the pregnancy, she liked getting dressed for dates because it gave her a sense of purpose she lacked in life. That's why she had shown up to meet me while having labor pain and being around a few centimetres dilated.

I told Jane how much I despised pregnancy and childbirth due to a traumatic event involving Valerie, my twin sister. When both Valerie and I were high school sophomores, she had accidentally ended up pregnant and a few months later I had to deliver her stillborn baby while we were stuck at the local mall in a snowstorm. I am sure the experience had left her traumatized as well, but I was horrified at watching that inhumane creature appear from one of the disturbing organs of my twin sister. And now, in the presence of Jane making all the same sounds and expressions, I was visualizing things I shouldn't have.

As cries of Jane grew louder with each passing minute, I thought I should leave her to birth her child on her own. But at the same time, I didn't want to leave her alone. What if she faced the same fate as Valerie? Who would be there to comfort her? These were two foolish questions that kept me seated at the café with Jane while others started to gawk. Maybe I felt guilty at doing things the wrong way when my twin sister gave birth and wanted to correct them, but I really shouldn't have felt guilty because the autopsy back then had revealed that the baby had died way before it was born. I really didn't know what kept me at a café with the pregnant woman who was supposed to be my “rental” girlfriend.

***

Two hours passed and Jane was now on the floor with her dress raised above her knees. She was seated with her back to the wall while I peered at the hole between her legs from which her baby was meant to come out. Small streams of blood were falling out of it but nothing as dramatic as what I had witnessed during the birth of Valerie's stillborn. All we now had to do was wait and let the human body do its thing. I looked at Jane’s face for a while and she whimpered, “Thank you, Vincent. I didn't know how I could do it alone. Oh God!” 

I didn't want to say anything to Jane. I was too uncomfortable to form coherent sentences. But still, I told her to not worry as I had done it before. Obviously, I kept the detail of the baby being stillborn hidden from her. I didn't want her to freak out during the birth and lose her composure. I peered at her hole again and saw that it had become much wider. I knew what was coming next, which was going to be the crowning of the baby's head.

Just as I had suspected, Jane’s baby’s head began to descend from her vagina. It was not a pretty sight as I was reminded of the way Valerie's partially baked kid had begun its descent. However, this baby looked far healthier. But I still wanted to puke right there from the smell of what I assumed were fluids from childbirth. The entire place reeked of that foul smell. But I had to brave it all and help her deliver this baby.

I saw Jane push and grunt as she did. She was putting far more effort into it than what Valerie had done back in the day. Of course, Jane was much older than what my twin sister had been back then, so she definitely had more strength. I felt I needed to place my hand under the baby's head to support it otherwise it would end up touching the floor. I grabbed a tissue paper from the table and placed it instead of my hand.

Jane cried and wailed as she was hit by contractions doing their thing to expel the rest of her baby. Then, all of a sudden, her baby shot out of her like a grenade from a launcher. Thankfully, I caught the bastard. Even more thankfully, the baby began to cry loudly. Everything eventually went well. I was stoked to have delivered a child who was alive and Jane was tired but glad to have my company during these trying times. The guilt of having accidentally killed a baby soon vanished from my conscience. I was over the moon as I handed the back to Jane, who kissed him on the tiny nose. I had helped a pregnant woman deliver her baby boy. I was proud of it and went on to call Valerie about it. In hindsight, I shouldn't have done that because my words brought her trauma back and shot herself through the jaw with a shotgun later that day. My bad!

End

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[imagineyourepregnant]

Born On The Streets Of Miami

Writer: Skye-Charmer-Writer

(Trigger Warning: Domestic abuse, blood, gore, references to 1980s)

(Note: I am back with a story after being banned from Tumblr for making edgy jokes! I will try to behave this time around...)

Fernanda had suffered a terrible fate as she had been forced to get out of the sedan driven by her boyfriend, Hugh, in the middle of a bad neighborhood in Mainland Miami. She had trusted him to drive her to the hospital while she was experiencing strong labor pain. But now it looked like she was destined to give birth to her child out on the dirty and depraved streets of an American city.

She had immigrated to the United States from Mexico along with her parents in the late nineteen-sixties when she was just three years old. Now, twenty years later, she was pregnant for the first time with the child of a redneck dealer of illegal firearms. He had promised her everything in the world, but had betrayed her in the moments that mattered the most. He had grabbed her by the hair and then repeatedly punched her in the face to make her leave his car. He had only pretended to take her to a hospital, because panic regarding parental responsibilities had set in and he wanted no part of it.

Unfortunately, Fernanda had to bear the pain of choosing a man like him as her partner. Now, while lying in a white negligee on a wet road late at night, uterine contractions were hammering away at the cervix of her. She was 39 weeks pregnant and her waters had already broken at home while she was watching the news about the activities of the communist Soviet Union. She was in a terrible shape already, and his beatings had caused her health to deteriorate further.

Fernanda cried for help as a contraction ripped through her womb, “Help! Somebody help me!” No one was around her to answer. In the distance, the faint sound of a 9 millimeter handgun going off could be heard. In this neighborhood, people weren't keen on helping strangers, especially ones who appeared to be injured like her. There were houses near her and its occupants were definitely afraid of stepping out so late in the night to help a crying woman.

Fernanda's cervix dilated further over the course of the next few minutes. The progress of her labor was unnatural and would have raised many eyebrows if it was noticed in a controlled environment in the presence of medical professionals. However, here in the darkness of a crappy neighborhood in Miami, no one cared. Soon enough, she began to feel an urge to push. Pressure was mounting on her nether regions as her vagina was getting ready to perform the demanding task it was meant to perform, which was to birth an entire human being.

Fernanda thrashed and rolled on to her baby bump, which placed further pressure on her womb to expel its contents. Her insides started being twisted as her unborn child began making their way out of her womb. She was still on her stomach and this provided additional leverage to her internal organs. Before she knew it, the head of the child was peeking out of her vagina.

Fernanda couldn't see what was going on under her, but she could feel the rawness of the process. She was bringing life to this wretched world, where the threat of nuclear annihilation loomed over humanity as long as the Soviet Union continued to exist. She felt deeply disturbed by the happenings that were going on inside her. She almost felt she was going to pass out.

Suddenly, Fernanda felt a release as the head of her child slipped out of her vagina. There was not much time left before she could hold the product of a demented relationship in her hands. The sensation gave her the courage to take charge of the situation and begin pushing with all her strength. “I can do it… I have to do it…” she told herself.

So, Fernanda began pushing on her own to provide assistance to the involuntary pushes that her body was moving. Then, a few minutes later, she felt her child completely fall out of her womb and onto the dirty street below her. She scrambled to sit up as fast as she could to pick her child up and save them from being infected by the streets of Miami.

That's when Fernanda saw her child, a girl, for the first time. She was wailing as newborns tend to do and still connected to Fernanda via the umbilical cord. “Oh my God! You're, like, so pretty! Thank goodness!” she said as she expressed her joy at the sight of her newborn daughter in the manner befitting a 20-something woman in the Miami of nineteen-eighties. Soon, an ambulance pulled up close to where Fernanda had given birth and EMT personnel rushed out of the back to help her and her daughter. Some benevolent creatures of the night had lent a hand to a stranger like her.

End

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[imagineyourepregnant]

Teacher's Pet

Submission note: this can be tagged fpreg, nbpreg, and tmpreg! You can credit me.

---

You are special. You are the brilliant, shining star of his class.

Sure, maybe he fucks some of the other students, too. Maybe you’re far from the only person who’s been on your knees and gagging on his cock. Maybe his desk has seen all kinds of young, vigorous minds bent over his desk and reduced to brainless, cock-hungry sluts.

But you’re special. You’re absolutely certain of it. After all, you’re the one carrying his child.

If you weren’t special, then why is no one else pregnant? Why are you the one who gets to call him by his actual name instead of just Professor Hale? Why does he look at you like that during department events and guest lectures? He’s so willing to risk everything for you. After all, when it was first obvious to everyone that you were expecting, he had followed you out of the ballroom, pulled you into a janitor’s closet, and gripped your belly as you rode him. It’s already hot enough to have his baby inside of you; it’s even hotter when his cum is rolling down your leg while you talk with the department head about your upcoming senior thesis.

His child knows him. They roll inside of you when he speaks during lectures. The sensation is alien and yet the pure knowledge that it’s his baby leaves you wet and wanting after each class.

And he knows it. The bigger you get, the more obsessed he becomes. Now, instead of fucking other students when you’re not around, he invites you to watch. His eyes stay on you, locked on the way your hand rubs your bare belly, so round and big because of him, and he fucks the other student until he nearly climaxes. But his cum is for you. He always pulls out and goes to you instead, now forcing the other student to watch as he sucks on your swollen areolas and drives his cock into your oversensitive cervix until you’re screaming and dripping with him.

The school year finishes; summer break begins. When your senior year begins, you’re nearly ready to burst. Everybody’s shocked that you even came back to school, but you insisted. You have to be with him, your favorite professor, the man you’re obsessed with, the father of your child. And he needs to be with you. You’re his, his darling broodmare.

When your labor begins, you’re obligated to notify him. He demands you come to his office later that evening. By that point, you’ve been laboring for hours. Your contractions are quite uncomfortable, but you’re not going to disobey him.

“Ah,” he greets when he opens his door for you. “I have a present for you.”

He leads you inside. There’s another student in his office -- a junior, someone you’ve admittedly felt a bit jealous of. He looks at her too much. Gets too close when he speaks to her.

But he doesn’t acknowledge her for now. Rather, he guides you to a nearby chair. Before you sit, he strips away your clothes until you’re naked from the waist down. Then he seats you, grabs some silk ties, and ties your wrists behind your back and your ankles to the legs of the chair. You can’t move; you just have to sit there, pussy bared wide to the other student, moaning as a contraction wracks through you.

Professor Hale murmurs something to the other student -- something you can’t catch -- before he turns back to you. “Watch,” he tells you simply. “If you need something, you will beg for it.”

Before you even have the chance to say anything, he turns back to the other student and bends her over the desk. He leans forward, pressing slow, hot kisses down her back. “Look at her,” he says out loud. “You were even more beautiful.” His fingers ghost up her thighs; his fingertips gently prod her entrance. “You moaned so prettily for me. Begged me to knock you up. Remember?”

You moan once more, partly from the pain of the contractions, partly from how undeniably aroused you are at the memory.

“Pathetic,” he continues as he slips a finger inside of her. The other student whimpers; he starts to slowly thrust into her. “But so gorgeous.” Professor Hale lifts his face and meets your gaze. “I had to give you what you begged for. How does it feel now?”

You let out a loud whine, squeezing your eyes shut as pain radiates through your core. “Adrian,” you choke out, “this -- oh, fuck, this really hurts.”

“Good,” he says. He slips a second finger inside of the other student, drawing an obscene cry from her. “Your suffering will be rewarded. Your devotion will be similarly cherished.”

He suddenly removes his hand. The student lets out a displeased noise, but Professor Hale ignores her. Instead, he unbuttons his slacks and pulls both them and his boxers down until his cock is exposed. It’s already rigid and flushed; he pumps a hand down it, smearing the other student’s fluids down his length.

“Do you want to see what it looked like when I got you pregnant?” he murmurs. “While your body prepares to give me what I put inside of you?”

Your hips buck at that. “Adrian.” You squeeze your eyes shut at the intense pain and building pressure. “I think I’m getting close.”

“Not yet,” he says firmly. “You can’t push until I tell you to.”

He turns back to the other student now, rubbing the head of his cock against her entrance. She starts to cry out again, begging for more of him. His fingers card through her hair, not so much tender as it is patronizing. “Shh,” he tells her. “I’ll satisfy you soon enough.” He leans over her again, kisses the space between her shoulder blades, and then, finally, thrusts into her. She lets out a dramatic gasp, her legs suddenly going tense as he completely buries himself in her tight cunt.

“Wonderful,” he grits out. Then he turns his head towards you. “But not as perfect as you.”

He starts fucking her, hard and deep, a faint smile on his face as you squirm and whimper from your worsening contractions.

“She’ll never have what I gave you,” he says. “You’re my greatest protege.”

Fuck, you’re utterly torn between how much pain you’re in and how fucking hot this is. Your hips roll, desperate for relief from the pressure of your baby’s head, but also so goddamn desperate for him.

“Beautiful.” His eyes are dark, locked on you. “So swollen with me. So ready to give me a child.” His thrusts intensify, punching out yelps from the other student. “And as soon as you give me this one, I’ll put another one inside of you.”

“Oh, my god,” you say -- no, sob. “Adrian, fuck -- oh, god, I need to go to the hospital--”

“No.” He slams into the other student. She’s practically screaming now. “You will stay here.”

The pain rocketing through you prevents you from saying anything more. You dissolve into whimpers and groans, straining against the ties on your wrists and ankles. Meanwhile, Professor Hale keeps fucking the other student, pulling out when she gets too close to finishing, fucking her again when her begging becomes insufferable. This keeps going until--

“I need to push.” You rock your hips forward as you moan. “Adrian, fuck, I’m going to start pushing.”

One moment, he’s behind the other student at the desk; the next, he’s suddenly next to you, untying the restraints on your ankles and wrists.

“Absolutely not.” He pushes you forward so that you’re on all fours on the floor. “You will not push until I say that you’re allowed. Understood?” He glances up at the other student. “Violet, please observe.”

Your protests are shattered by a scream as he shoves himself into you. “Adrian!” you shout as tears run down your face. Everything aches so much; your body is practically begging you to push; and yet this feels fucking incredible in a way it shouldn’t.

“Quiet,” he tells you as he starts rutting inside of you furiously. “You should be grateful for this.”

You moan as your body contracts again. God, you feel so tight around him like this. “Fuck, Adrian, I am, I am.”

He continues fucking you, hissing as he slams into you over and over. “You’re perfect,” he tells you again. “Kneeling like a dog, taking my cock when you would rather be pushing.”

You arch your back, gasping at the sensation. “Adrian, please, I need to--”

The pain is unbearable. Tears fall down your face. He keeps fucking you anyway.

“Adrian, enough!” you choke out. “Oh, fuck, please, Adrian, let me push, please.”

He clicks his tongue as he speeds up. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He grips the back of your neck. “Let your master have his fun first.”

God, you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Your body starts to contract again; then, it’s pushing on its own, drawing a loud, long cry from you as you bear down. The sensation finally causes Professor Hale to break. He seizes suddenly, groans, and his cock pumps into you over and over and over. When you lift your head, you can see the other student watching you with a hand between her legs and a glassy look in her eyes.

Fuck. You are so fucking turned on.

“Adrian, god, make me come!” you scream when he pulls out.

His palm bears down on your tailbone while his other hand finds its way to the space between your legs. “Push,” he commands as he begins to touch you.

“But I want to--”

“Push,” he repeats. “Now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you bear down. His cum spurts out of you and drips onto the floor.

“Keep pushing,” he says, pressing down harder between your legs. “You will give me my child.”

You obey. The way his fingers rub you roughly sends painful jolts of pleasure through you. Combined with the pushing -- oh, god, you’re so fucking close. You’re so full of him, belong completely to him.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your ear. “Are you going to come while giving birth to my child?”

“Yes!” you gasp.

Professor Hale smiles as he glances up towards the other student. “You wish this were you, don’t you?” he purrs. “Spread out on my floor, laboring with my child, completely mine in every way that matters.”

The baby’s head pushes down deep into your birth canal. The stretch of it causes you to scream, but the pain bleeds into the pleasure. And then, suddenly, you’re coming, and you come so hard and beautifully that the other student is also coming from the sight of it. And Professor Hale is bent over you, letting out a pleased, airy laugh against your throat.

“Push,” he orders softly. “Give me my baby.”

Your vision goes black. You nearly fucking pass out. But you keep pushing through it until -- suddenly -- there’s a squelch. Professor Hale shifts behind you.

“A son,” he murmurs into your ear. “Well done.”

You collapse now as the baby begins to wail. Professor Hale hums as cradles the baby in his arms and snips the umbilical cord.

“Violet,” he says calmly, “you’re dismissed.”

She leaves silently. You tremble on the floor, completely exhausted and out of breath.

But then Professor Hale is leaning over you once more. He presses a kiss to your temple before murmuring, “We’ll start on a daughter now.”

[imagineyourepregnant]

And They Were Roommates (Part 3)

TMPREG, eventual M/F, Hyperpregnancy, Extreme baby movement, F masturbation, lactation, adult breastfeeding, slight feederism.

Loosely inspired by prompt 465.6, “it’s not common but id love to see some het mpreg. give me an alpha woman taking care of her super preggers omega bf. lol”

Synopsis: Amber has a big crush on her roommate. He just so happens to be a hugely pregnant transman. And in this chapter, they take their relationship to the next level.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

“Oooooh,” Charlie lowed, hands pressed desperately against his strapped-up belly. “Fuck, please, Amber, sweetie, I need to stop, I’m gonna burst!” At 39 weeks pregnant with ten children, his manwomb was swollen to such a size that he was more womb than man. Besides the sheer number of fetuses gestating in his colossal belly, and the obvious rarity of a pregnant transman, his pregnancy had been unusual in one more way; in a normal case of high-order multiples, there was a reduction in growth with each fetus being smaller than a singleton of comparable gestation. In this case, however, not only did each of the children straining Charlie’s belly match a singleton in size they exceeded them, shooting into the 99th growth percentile. 

At his last scan, delivered at home since his swollen womb made him much too large to fit through the door, Doctor Lantry, his obstetrician, had estimated their weights to be in the range of eleven to thirteen pounds. As if it wasn’t agony enough to have something like 120 pounds of baby squirming in his belly the sheer strain on his womb had triggered an overproduction of amniotic fluid known as polyhydramnios meaning that he had double that weight in fluid and placenta stealing whatever last bit of space remained in his womb and swelling him to such a ludicrous size that he was in his current situation.

Doctor Lantry had insisted that he go into a hospital for specialist support during the birth, but Charlie was terrified of being turned into a freakshow for medical interns to gawk at, or worse that a man with a baby belly the size of a grand piano would end up splashed across tabloids up and down the country. He wanted to give birth in private, and what her man wanted, he got.     

“Hold on, honey, you’re almost there.” Amber, his girlfriend, said into the back of their rented moving van. Almost the totality of the storage space was just her boyfriend, specifically his womb, rippling with the movement of his colossal brood. He had grown so large that fitting him through the doors of their flat, or indeed even the rooms of their flat had become almost impossible.

To that end, Amber had rented a country manor with tall, wide doors that could fit even a preposterously pregnant man with ease. He had wanted privacy and so she picked one that was far out in the countryside, ten miles from the nearest village. Getting him there had been an ordeal, requiring the rented moving van and a long ramp, along with a hospital bed since he was now so pregnant as to be effectively bedbound. Lastly, it had required cargo straps to make sure that a sharp turn wouldn’t cause his 360-pound womb to roll around and throw the vehicle off balance, or crush her poor, over-pregnant boyfriend under the weight of his own fertility.

The journey out of the suburbs had been fraught, but once they were on the motorway, it had been smooth sailing…. For a while. As they neared their rented manor, the narrow and winding country roads had forced more than one harsh turn, which elicited pained wails from her man. She hated putting him through all of this, to hear his screams of pain as the unborn horde colonising his belly stretched and strained and threw their weight around his massively distended womb.

There was a stretch of downhill road where Charlie quivered breathlessly as the weight of his womb squashed the air from his lungs and steep uphill climbs that had him convinced his belly was going to rip off of him.

But it all turned her on. God, it turned her on. She loved to hear him wail and beg and plead with his own belly, his voice cracking from the strain. She had kissed him all across his belly as she strapped him into the van, from that bulging belly button to the point where the great swell met his sternum. 

She knew how it made him feel to have a belly so big they literally needed a bigger building to house him in his last few weeks of gestation, but to her, this felt more like finding an appropriate temple for a god of fertility, ripe and ready to burst. 

Speaking of ready to burst, Amber’s milk production had not let up one bit since she made the decision to induce lactation. Her flushed, swollen udders were desperate for relief, and she was desperate to feed her man.

Eventually, they reached the rented manor, which was situated at the end of a gravel path in the middle of a forest clearing. Tall and broad it could sleep a  dozen with space to do so comfortably.

“We’re here!” Amber yelled, partly out of excitement and partly to be heard over her boyfriend’s pained moaning. 

What she saw when she hopped into the back of the van took the colour out of her cheeks. Charlie’s belly was often rippling with the squirming of his unborn children, indeed the only time they were at peace was when he suckled from her teat but the stress of the ride had clearly put them into overdrive. He had bitten onto one of his cargo straps to stop himself from screaming. Even as their father was on the verge of a panic attack the unborn horde barely contained within his womb kicked on indifferent to his suffering. Huge throbbing shapes warped the stretchmarked surface of his belly in a dozen places, lumps and valleys forming and unforming constantly. Her man ran a hand over what little of his belly he could reach, his head lolling back and forth as he endured the violence in his womb. His other hand clutched white-knuckle-tight around another of the loading straps. Far away from the rest of him, his poor, tortured belly button bulged like a cork ready to blow. 

She ran over to him and pulled the strap out of his mouth.

“Aaaayyyyghhh Amber, nghhhh it hurts, it hurts so fucking much, please mnghhhh! Please don’t let me burst,” “Shhh, shh, it’s okay,” Amber said as she freed one of her ponderous, milkswollen breasts. “Let’s calm you down.”

No sooner had she jammed one of her tits into his mouth than he began to drain her dry. With one hand she soothed his belly, feeling the crashing motions of his unborn children, and with the other she milked herself, thick white jets spurting onto the swell of his poor, tortured womb.

She lost herself to the ecstasy of emptying herself into him and onto him, she was not sure how long she nursed her man only that by the time he let go of her breast and told her he was full, she still had a way to go before she was empty. 

“Not until I say we’re done, you want the babies to be big and healthy don’t you?” she said sweetly, offering up her other breast to him.

“They’re already sooo big,” he groaned, his long, slender-fingered hands spidered over the mere fraction of his gigantic belly he could actually reach.

“And they always behave themselves when they’re well fed,” she said, squeezing a spurt of milk across his chin. She saw him lick it, she knew he loved her taste. She had him. “You know you want to.”

Without another word he latched onto her and drank deeply from her other breast.

“Mmmhm” she cooed encouragingly. “That’s it daddy, take care of our babies, you’re such a good papa,” she said, one hand gently stroking his bump as the other cupped the his head to her chest, fingers running through his hair. “Oooh and you treat your big milking mamma so well, you’re such a good boy, I love feeding you, daddy”

All good things must come to an end, and so it was that eventually she ran empty and Charlie, his overfull stomach stretched just that little bit more by her thick mother’s milk, really could hold no more. 

“Alright, let’s get you moved in,” she said with a gentle caress of his stomach, the movements within reduced to languid, almost gentle lumps moving slowly beneath the surface of that oceanic uterus. 

The process of moving Charlie into the house was slow and laborious. Indeed, several times she feared that the stress of moving his pregnant bulk would have sent him into labour. She admitted to herself that the concept of him screaming into the open sky, stuck in some awkward position as he shoved his babies out was appealing but it was hardly safe. The first step was getting him off of the truck, which consisted of setting up a sequence of portable ramps - similar to the kind used by offroaders to ford small gaps - and then very carefully wheeling him down using a tow cable mounted in the truck hooked to his bed and then slowly easing his paternal mass down as gently as she could.

“Just be careful I don’t crush you!” Charlie fretted as she went ahead of him down the ramp.

“Oh what a way to go,” she whispered to herself, imagining the writhing weight of his belly squashing her into the floor, the pendulous sackfull of his brood pummelling her through the skin of his womb. That package couldn’t get here soon enough.

The manor, being wheelchair accessible, was entered by a long, low ramp at the front of the main building. Being as it was an actual Disability-Law compliant architectural feature and not an amateurish adhoc solution it was far less rickety and far less stressful to get Charlie into the house. 

Once inside a long, broad hall ran the length of the house to a conservatory in the back some fifty metres away. Skylight ran through the second floor illuminating the corridor where light from the front and back could not reach. The dolley’s casters glided easily over the well oiled hardwood in the entrance hall and back towards the living room. The room was something out of a Victorian bodice-ripper meshed with a 70’s swinger pad. Two floors high with the entirety of one wall given over to bookshelves, the second level accessed by a wheeled ladder. A well appointed entertainment centre sat in front of a lushly padded conversation pit. Elsewhere in the room was a reading nook, a hifi with space to dance and a few sofas for those who didn’t fancy the pit. Rich blue and black feather-patterned wallpaper glinted darkly in contrast with the rich dark hardwoods of the fittings and furniture.  

“Chrsit alive Amber how can you afford all of this?”

“Quite easily, things have really picked up now that I have someone to motivate me,” she said giving him a long kiss on the mouth and then a few quick pecks on the belly. “A whole lot of someones.”

It was true, Her recent promotion and the extra money from her OnlyFans modelling had been a good start but only the start. She worked in the software industry, specifically she worked for Atomsense, a company that developed specialist software used in nuclear reactors. Or at least she had, after solving some data modelling problems to get a software upgrade through government approvals on time she had been snapped up as a special consultant to Department for Science, Innovation and Technology in a unique role that required proven experience and qualifications in both nuclear engineering and corporate programming as well as the people skills to get bureaucrats to put their faith in high science they could never understand. Needless to say, she commanded a high salary.

With a stable and high paying salary she could invest the nest-egg she had made from the web into several lucrative business investments meaning that even with the exorbitant cost of renting the manor and all of her other expenses she was still around £100 richer day after day. She was not yet a millionaire but if all held, she would be time she retired.

But her real wealth was right next to her, breathing heavily and sighing to himself. 

“Now, where do you want me to park you?”

“Can you put me by the dining table, it’s almost time for dinner.” 

The hospital bed did not provide enough room for Amber to cuddle with her boyfriend given the colossal size of his womb, so instead she stood by him for a long while leaned across his belly so that his head laid against her chest, and his big ripe belly was wobbling against her own midriff. 

“I’m so sleepy, I hope you don’t mind but I think the babies want me to take a nap,” 

She kissed him. “Then sleep,”

When she was sure Charlie was sleeping deeply enough that she wouldn’t wake him she got out a tape measure and her phone and began assessing the dimension of his colossal stomach, which turned out to be an eyewatering 270 centimetres from sternum to pelvis. Measuring his shoulders, his legs and his inseam all produced far more sane and rational numbers.

She crunched a few numbers, made some calculations and went into another room to make some calls. She also had to move in their luggage.

When all was said and done it was time to sort dinner. Which meant something very different after the increase in her fortunes. Within a half hour she had half of the local takeaway's menu delivered to their door. 

She was both far and near to Charlie as she watched him feed. Standing a few feet from his head, she massaged the great prow of his belly as he ate ravenously. His skin was slick with sweat and stretched tight around his massive brood. 

“How’s my big daddy getting on with his dinner,”

“There’s no room but I just keep shoving it in,” he whimpered. “God the babies are so hungry, I’m so hungry, I can’t get enough. Can I milk you afterwards, love.”

She purred as she leaned over that gloriously bloated womb of his. Her long, slender fingers seemed miniscule as she draped them over her lover’s belly. 

“You know just what I want to hear, babe,” she said and kissed his bellybutton. Her lust got the better of her and she found herself slathering the stretched rubbery nub with slathering kisses until she was practically fellating his fecund tip.

“Ohhhh god,” he groaned, his voice muffled with food. “That’s it, oh I feel like I’m gonna blow,” he said, and swallowed before he let out a throaty moan, for once a moan of lust instead of pain.

“I’m such a belly perv aren’t I babe,” she said, hugging close against his vast, fatherly frontage. “And I’m so lucky I’ve got a big, handsome, fertile, daddy to dote on,”

When he was fully fed she snuggled closer to his chest and offered him desert.

“Your milk’s ready baby,” she said, pulling her bra down and playfully spurting some onto him. 

Without another word he suckled just as desperately as he had in the van, his tongue flicking expertly over her teet. Immediately she felt herself release in him, waves of pressure pooling in her tits and jetting into him on a creamy white tide. She willed herself to produce more, spurt faster, fill her man’s hunger completely.

With a shudder she came, spurting her milk like a broken waterpipe on the release. Charlie sucked on until he was full, working her up near to the point of a second orgasm. 

After excusing herself to finish off she came back with a small box held with great reverence in both hands. 

“Charlie, I have something really important I want to ask you?”

“Of course - oh my god is that -” he said, barely coherent with shock. 

She knelt beside her monstrously pregnant boyfriend  and opened it “Will you marry me, Charlie?”

She saw him break into hormone-spurred tears of joy. “Oh, Amber, of course I will!”

—------------------------

“Be polite, be respectful, and do not ask my husb - my fiance about his condition,” She realised as she spoke she must have seemed quite a peculiar sight herself, spilling out of a wedding dress in the corridor of a rented country house. 

“It’s alright, you meet people going through all sorts of things when you do a job like this,” said Claire, a cheerful notary with whom Amber had arranged their small, private wedding. “A lot of people choose a home wedding because of health issues,” 

“Good, it’s just that my Charlie’s very sensitive about the way he looks and I don’t want anything spoiling our big day.” Amber said as she led them into the living room.

“Of course I-” it took a long time to get through the rest of her sentence as she looked over the very, very, very, VERY pregnant groom waiting for her in the main room. Laid out on a medical bed, he wore a suit of ludicrous proportions, which Amber had needed to lie about and say was intended as a prop in a surrealist arthouse movie. The blazer and trousers were black with grey pinstripes, all very normal. But then there was a white cotton shirt that swelled out more than seven feet in front of him, dozens of buttons straining to contain a belly that overhung the edge of his bed by a considerable margin. For a moment she thought it might have been some sort of prank, then she noticed the sore red stretchmarks and occasional freckle showing and assumed it was a growth of some sort until the Groom, Charlie, winced in time with a bulge underneath the fabric of his shirt. He was pregnant. Mid bogglingly, terrifyingly pregnant.

Standing as witnesses to this unusual union were two women, Doctor Lantry, and one of the nurses from her clinic, who she had called up to provide an ultrasound before the ceremony. Both of them were looking at Charlie with the sort of concern that implied they were worried they would have to go to work any moment. Indeed, the Doctor had let Amber know she had bought her birthing kit with her.

“Thank you for having me,” Claire eventually managed to get out.

“Oooh,” Charlie groaned, hands absently trying to stroke his belly through his shirt. “Thanks for coming out to us.”

“Shall we begin,” Amber said as she stepped beside her husband-to-be, his stomach so large that going face to face would have been a farce.

“We are gathered here to witness the wedding of Charlie Carter and Amber Garton” Claire, the notary said as she went through the boilerplate of officiating a wedding. She was interrupted periodically by the gasps and whimpers of the very pregnant man in front of her.

“I pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride,” she said at last.

It was really more Amber kissing her new husband, she crouched down and kissed him passionately, her huge flushed breasts pressed against his chest. She rested a hand on his huge pregnant belly.

They used his gigantic womb as a table, mostly because Amber thought it was hot as fuck, and quickly signed the necessary paperwork.

Claire made some polite small talk and then zipped off to get it processed, though from the way she scurried out of there it seemed more like she was scared of the new husband rupturing in front of her.

Doctor Lantry stayed longer.

She approached the happy couple with the stiff politeness of a consummate professional. “Congratulations, Mister and Misses Carter” she said guardedly. “But you really need to consider induction, you’ve done well to get this far and your last sonogram says the babies are all healthy but there’s no need to strain yourself this much, frankly I think the babies should have come out of you weeks ago, but they can come out today if you’ll just let me arrange transport to a hospital.”

“No,” Charlie said breathily, his flushed cherubic features seeming particularly innocent as he could only look up at her from his spot in the bed. His womb was starting to throb with activity. “Thank you for being such a good doctor, but I just can’t face a hospital,”

“Besides,” Amber said lustily as she pawed her husband’s belly. “I think these kids will come soon enough.”

“Fine, look I don’t live that far from here, give me a call if anything changes,”

Doctor Lantry and her nurse left and finally they were alone.

“Ugh, I thought I was going to pop a button,” Charlie groaned, hands resting against the top curve of his huge bump.

“I kind of wish you had, imagine the looks on their faces when my big sexy hubby shows a little skin.” Amber said as she walked past him in the direction of the dinner table. “Now wit there,”

She wheeled in a utilitarian metal table and positioned it at a right angle to Charlie’s bed as close to the edge of his bed as she could get. 

She scooted backwards onto the table and laid back with her legs hanging open off to either side. Peaking over her milk-heavy breasts she watched his already flushed face blush deeper as he took her all on, laid on the edge of the table with her legs hanging off the side.

“Eat, and maybe I’ll feed you later,” she said, pinching a thick jet of milk from her right breast to encourage him. 

Laying back she heard his laboured breathing get nearer and nearer. Eventually a hand reached up her thigh towards her panties. She slapped it away. “My garter first, I’m your wife now Mister Carter, you have to treat me right,”

A hand reached for her garter belt. She slapped it away again. 

“With your teeth. Show your wife how much you want it.”

Looking past herself she could see that great belly stir and lean as its owner stretched to his maximum to reach her.

Hands supported her calf and thigh. She felt teeth scrape her thigh and hot nostril breaths against her skin like some lustful beast. The fine lace of her garter trailed down her leg and off her ankle.

“Okay, now, you can have a piece of Misses Carter” she said, helping him slide off her panties, already sodden in anticipation.

Charlie was a slightly clumsy lover but what he lacked in experience he made up for with sheer enthusiasm. A tongue lapped hungrily at her womanhood and occasionally a kiss planted on her lap to show his affection. Her breasts flushed with milk, spurting all over the fine white fabric of her wedding dress. Somehow she suspected she would not be showing it off to their children someday. But as much as she felt a hot, erotic pressure welling in her tits, something even stronger was building down between her legs. 

“OH! Oooh Charlie! Yes!” She squealed as she came so mightily that it seemed like her waters had somehow broken, despite her empty womb.

She sat up and locked eyes with her new husband. His face flushed and damp, a lovedrunk smile on his face.

“You’re delicious, you know that,” he said.

As a response she put her hand in his hair and then pressed his face back into her laps. 

“Go for desert,” she said with a lusty chuckle.

He ate her out again, and then when she had orgasmed once more, he did something much more assertive than she expected. He grabbed her hips, dug his face in and went back for thirds. Then fourths, until finally, she was a panting, milkdrenched mess, her makeup smeared by sweat and joyful tears. Somewhere in her orgiastic gauntlet her fine updo had worked loose from her pleasured squirming.

“Alright, daddy alright.” she said, panting as if she had run a marathon. She pushed herself up to sitting, her arms quivering with sweet exhaustion. “That was lovely, what brought that on?”

He wiped her juice back from his face into his hair and down his neck and shoulders. “Well you always look after me, I ugh” he said, a soft sultry tone cut off with a grunt caused by the kicking which had not abated in his womb. “So I wanted to look after you. Besides you always get to see me looking a state, maybe I wanted to see you like that. Know I did that to you,” 

“You're a new man now that we’re married Charlie, I love seeing you so confident,” she said, sliding off the table onto quivering legs, her gait unbalanced as she’d kicked off one of her heels on her third orgasm. “I suppose I should reward good behaviour,” she drank from one of her own tits and let some dribble down her chin.

During their tryst she had milked so mightily that a wet patch was dripping from the ceiling but she still had more welling up in her. She rested against her husband’s belly as she fed him, slowly recovering her strength as she fattened him more and more on her milk. She kissed him lazily on the mouth, along his jaw, and down his neck. She loved the way her juices commingled with his sweat, breathing in the smell of their union on her husband’s skin, sampling it with her tongue. 

Between the exhaustion of her orgasms and the rippling cushion of her husband’s nigh-monstrous pregnancy she nearly dozed off mid feed before her husband said something so sexy it gave her back her second wind.

“I’m full, Ugh, I think I’m going to burst,” he said, his blue eyes heavy with lustful exertion.

“Good, you digest for a minute while I go get ready.”

Ten minutes passed and when she came back she had an exciting new device. The medical gurney that held her bedbound husband was all well and good, but for what came next she would need something that would hold up his huge, elephantine womb without getting in the way. To that end she rolled out a motorised medical lifting hammock similar to the type used to move people with limited mobility into and out of wheelchairs, baths and similar scenarios. In shape it was sort of like a motorised hammock with a soft medical cloth sheet to hold its user. Though it was designed to hold a person of considerable mass she was not entirely sure it would hold up under the weight of her husband’s belly. But she had to try.

“I’ve got a lot planned for you my love, do you trust me?” she asked as she wheeled it over to him, 

“I do. I really do.”

With care and great gentleness she slipped the harness beneath the weighty swell of his beautiful, horrifyingly huge belly, the stubborn buttons of his shirt still hanging on across the fecund expanse. But she would change that.

Pressing a button on the hammock she watched with rapt attention as the hammock slowly lifted his belly off of his poor squashed thighs and then working in tandem she got him on his feet.

“Ohhh, oh my god, that actually feels kind of nice,” he said, resting a hand against his belly. “Ugh, what a weight off my hips, my back. Oh god, Ambs, if I didn’t feel like I was going to explode I could almost forget I’m pregnant.”

“You know I love to spoil you, my great big baby daddy,” she said proudly before planting a kiss on his bellybutton, which was roughly level with hers now that the hammock was doing its job. “Now don’t go anywhere, I’m just going to get a few more things to treat you,” she said, crossing past his belly to give him a kiss on the cheek before she disappeared out of the room.

She pulled away his dolly and a few minutes later came back with a couple of standing mirrors on it which she set up at angles just off to his sides.

As he went to ask she silenced him and told him to just be patient.

Another ten minutes passed before Amber reappeared. She looked crazed as she approached him. Her dress and hair dishevelled from her time on the table, her makeup and especially her mascara had run from sweat and orgasmic tears. Her fat breasts hung out of her wedding gown, nipples damp and glistening with milk. A look of sheer determined lust was plastered to her face as she bore down on her beloved.

She was pulling something behind her, some sort of cylindrical device held on a small dolly not unlike an external oxygen tank for those with breathing difficulties. Where it differed was that the thin cable on it ran to some kind of small control attached to Amber’s wrist. The second difference was far, far larger. Parting the slit of Amber’s once elegant wedding dress was a big, girthy purple strapon as long as her arm.

“Are you ready babe,” She said, her voice high and almost tense with anticipation for what she was going to do to him.

Charlie put his hands protectively over his harnessed broodsack. “Oh my god, are you going to try and stick that in me?”

She nodded giggling all the while. “Oh yeah babe, it’s your wedding present, she said before pressing the button on her wrist. She shuddered in time with the low buzz of a vibrator, and more vitally a spurt of cum from the end of her ersatz cock. “I spent a fortune on this beauty, and the ‘fuel’ - the real stuff from a reputable spermbank with less than reputable warehouse staff - you know how creampies can start labour? Well I’m going to fuck you till your waters break!” she emphasised her statement with another spurt of borrowed cum.

“I’m not sure,”

“Come on,” She said, gently patting his stomach. “We’ve had so much fun so far, would be a shame to stop now before I can get you off,”

She saw him peer past his belly at the drip of cum hanging from her strapon.” She knew he didn’t get that belly without being at least a bit susceptible to the temptations of cum.  

“Oh alright,” he relented. “But it's been a while and I’m soooo preggers, so you’ve got to be gentle,”

“Oh I know, aren’t you a good boy, saving yourself for marriage,” She chuckled lustily, patting his belly just a bit too hard. A baby kicked back in response. “Just yell ‘corriander’ and I’ll stop.”

“Okay, ‘corriander,’ got it,” he said with the eager trepidation of someone at the top of a rollercoaster right before the drop. 

  “Now, let’s prep you,” she said with one last kiss to his belly before she ducked below the equator of his womb. First she looked at the swollen feet and ankles of her husband and put a kiss first on one ankle then the other, though she paid little attention to his feet. She was having a pseudo-medical strapon labour induction sex with her extremely pregnant husband but she drew the line at foot fetishism. 

She heard him gasp in surprise as she pulled his trousers down, and gave his fat ass a slap - savouring the squeal that followed. Next she pulled down his boxers revealing his boycunt and the full bush surrounding it.

“Oooh how rugged,” she said as if he had any way to shave himself. “Well let me pay you back just a little bit,” she said, kissing hims lustily on the clit a few times. As she suspected he was easy and eager, dampening almost immediately and shivering in the anticipation of orgasm. Then she pulled back.

She reappeared and leaned against the rockhard dome of his belly, feeling the babies writhe beneath his skin. 

“Wouldn’t it be cruel of me if we came all this way and then I didn’t let you cross the finish line.”   

  “No don’t, come on, please I haven’t cum in months,” he begged, wincing as a ridge of foetal movement tented his shirt. The buttons still held.

“Mmm, you got there so quickly, it’s a little anticlimactic. This’ll be the first time I make you cum, shouldn’t we try and make an event of it,”

“Oh come on, I’m in this harness, it’s our wedding day, and I’m the most pregnant person alive, what else do you want!” he said half desperate half demanding. She had never seen him get so bratty, this was her doing for spoiling him these last 9 months. She would definitely have her fun.

“Just for that you have more to do,” she said, a hand gliding between the spread slivers of his shirt to stroke the sore pregnant flesh beneath it. “Beg.”

“Please,” he said sweetly. 

“Beg like you mean it or you can stay like this while I go jill off on the table and shoot a load up your back while all you can do is listen,” she said with sultry menace, before her long tongue swirled around his belly button. The carrot and the stick.

“Amber, please, love of my life, I need you, I need you to fuck me like the dirty, huge fucking man-pregger I am. I -”

“Call yourself a cumslut,” she demanded. “Tell me why you like it,”

“Yes! Yes! I’m such a naughty little cumslut boy. God you have no idea babe, I want it all over me, covering my belly, I want it in my hair, I want to guzzle it, babe please just give me that salty delicious cum,”

“Now that’s a good boy, such an obedient husband. Now tell me how much you love me.”

“Amber, I know it’s impossible but I wish these were your babies,” he said, pressing his palms into his distended swell of pregnancy. “Even before we got together I used to dream of being with you, of the life we could have together. You’re the smartest, strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and you make me want to be a better man so that I can do right by you. I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I could never imagine having a better mother to my children.”

She spurted a stream of milk over his shirt, turning it transparent against his veiny stretchmarked skin. “And these?” she asked.

“And you have the hottest fucking tits I’ve ever seen, my God did I get lucky!”

“You sure did babe,” she said giving him a kiss on the belly before she came round to nuzzle him, kissing with tender passion as she soaked up the love of her husband. “I love you so, so much, my kind, handsome, knight in shining armour.” 

Then she tittered with errotic delight as she activated her strapon again, spurting into her hand. “Now let’s fuck you properly,” she said wiping some cum across his lips.

      She kissed him one more time before she went back to the hammock’s controls and moved the hoist further up, tilting the weighty pregnancy further upwards and forcing her husband to tilt backwards, steadying himself against the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Just making sure we have the best possible angle,”

“Okay, I trust you,” he said breathlessly, the weight of his pregnancy pressing on his diaphragm.

She answered him, her voice thick with lust. “You’re so fucking sexy,” 

She pressed her palms against the underside of his belly and then her whole face and torso against his monstrous belly before, at last, with a hitch of the hips she entered him. 

“Oooh, oooh the babies, ooh they’re going crazy,” he moaned, his throat tight with the curious mix of pressure, pain and pleasure.

Lovingly, ruthlessly, Amber slammed her strapon into her husband’s wet and ready pussy. Straight on she could just barely see the top of her husband’s head past the living mountain of his grossly pregnant belly. But from the sides she could see him in ¾ profile, his angelic features clenched as he tried to ride out the violent kicking welling up in his belly. His shirt rippled and distended, the fabric lifting over the rise of oversized limbs all around his belly. The huge lump of a baby laying its back out against his womb walls stretched his left flank agonizingly out of shape.

She looked so small as well, pressed up against that vast, strangely shaped broodsack like a termite beside their bloated queen. She smiled at herself with wicked abandon as a dark, impulsive thought welled up in her head.

She put her hands against the fleshy wall of womb in front of her and pressed in hard.

In reflections she saw Charlie’s eyes squeeze shut as he let out a low throaty wail. 

The first button on his shirt finally failed, shooting off with such force that it thumped Amber in the cheek, a half-inch shy of taking an eye out.

“Oh god I’m gonna pop,” he yelled as the stormy amniotic sea bulging out of his waist roiled so violently that his babies almost threw him off his feet, rolling him this way and that in the hammock.

Pressed up against him she could share some of his pain, absorbing the recoil of frighteningly powerful movements within his womb. She felt the full, oppressive weight of his womb, of the ten overfed, oversized babies shifting and pressing against her, separated only by the thin shell of her husband’s skin.

“It’ll be alright baby!” she yelled as she kissed and slathered all over his hot, rippling underbelly. For the first time she felt afraid for him, the sheer weight, the unborn mass throwing around inside of her man seemed almost impossible to handle. Looking over his belly she saw the lumps and tented hollows of its surface writhing and changing, limbs moving beneath the flushed, bruised skin at shocking pace and force. And size. The stretchmarks lining his belly seemed to flush redder and swell as if they were about to split apart every time a freakishly huge foetal limb moved underneath. Throbbing veins bunched and flexed like pale blue lightning bolts across his horrifyingly pregnant belly.

“Don’t let me burst!” He said half sobbing half moaning as the heady cocktail of agonising womb pressure, mortal terror and the rapturous joy of being properly fucked after nine long months built up and mixed in his overly-pregnant body.

Finally, just as she saw the orgasm building on his face Amber activated her pseudocock, vibing her pussy and filling her husband’s. Again and again she pressed the activator flooding her husband’s man-cunt with an unnatural amount of cum.  

“AAAAAOOOOOHHHHRRR” Charlie filled the room with a bloodcurdling scream that ebbed into an orgasmic roar so completely she could hardly say where one started and the other ended.

She braced herself for a pop, for a rip, for some great deathscream from her poor husband but instead there was no pop. 

There was a snap.

-----------------

Thanks for reading to the end. I hope to do 1 or 2 more parts. I intend to put all of it here and on my own blog: depravedpreg

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1.

(Modnote: The noncon tag is for drugging without full disclosure/consent. The character takes the drugs willingly, but is unaware of how they will affect her)

Today was the day. Layla wake up slightly after midnight and looked at the clock. She was eighteen, starting now. And she couldn’t be happier about it. She promptly felt asleep – great day was ahead of her.

The next morning she wake up eagerly. I was Saturday an she was about to meet her boyfriend, Clark. He was a year older and in local college. And they have great plans for tonight. As the evening was closer and closer, Layla was getting stressed. They was to have their first time tonight! She felt anxious and couldn’t wait at the same time.

Her parents left home at 6 p.m., leaving it all to them. Clark arrived half hour later, dressed quite elegant, but not too much. Layla already change her usual, plain underwear to something more sexy, and covered it in light, red dress.

“Are you ready, honey?” asked Clark, as their entered her room.

Layla felt all stressed, but it was  good kinfld of stress, full of anticipation.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“I have something special for us,” Clark said, and took out two bottles of pills – one pink and the second blue. “It’s experimental drug, meant to enhance the experience.”

“Is this safe?”

“For sure, the tests are almost over. I get it from my brother.” Clark's brother was studying pharmacy, while Clark himself medicine, which slightly eased Layla’s worries. And it supposed to be fun! It will be more fun with this.

They took the pills and started to kiss. Layla felt greater and greater arousal, she didn’t know if it was because of drugs, situation or both. They went feral, and practically thorn they clothes off themselves. Layla thought she would regret demolishing such nice dress and underwear but it was worries fir future her. Now only one mattered. Sex.

Clark kissed her, bit her neck and licked her clit. She orgasmed few times, before his engorged masculinity filled her to the brim. And this orgasm was the strongest, so strong she squirted as he pumped his semen into her. Good thing she was on birth control pills.

After few more orgasms, sticky from semen and her juices, they lay down and fall asleep. Layla couldn’t imagine better experience.

2.

Few weeks later, Layla felt sick. She was vomiting anything she ate, she felt bloated and nauseous all the time, to the point where she lost weight, even though her stomach seemed to protrude more and more with every day. After a week of that, when it was clear it won’t just go away that easily, she went to the doctor.

Doctor examined her thoroughly, and started asking questions.

“Are you sexually active?” She asked, after some innocent questions. Layla blushed and nodded. Since their first time, she and Clark have sex few more times, but with and without the special pills. And even if they didn’t use it, it was marvelous.

“Yes”

The doctor writhed something down and asked Layla to undress. After examination she called the nurse to take blood sample. Layla already felt dizzy and really nauseous, but managed not to vomit for third time this day.

“I have some suspicions, but I need to confirm it with blood samples. Please come to visit tomorrow.”

The next day Layla was completely stress out by the time she was visiting the doctor. She told Clark about her condition, and he was visibly moved. Suspiciously.

“I’ll come with you,” he said, as soon as Layla stop talking.

“Uhm, okay?” she said, surprised.

The next day, she and Clark wen to a doctor, who welcomed her with a smile.

“I had your results,” she became serious, and Layla felt shrills going down her spine. “You’re pregnant!”

“What?” Layla’s heart missed a beat. “Are you sure? I’m on the pills…”

“Well, the hormone levels are really high, so yes, I’m sure. But we need ultrasound to confirm this for 100%. I referred you to OB/gyn, Stacy can take you there.” She called for a nurse, while Layla stared at her with visible shock. Well, she should suspect that… Her period didn’t come last time, and it was few weeks already, but she thought it just the pills are fucking things up…

She looked at Clark, who didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked guilty. She was about to ask him, yell at him, but then nurse took them to adjacent office, where the OB/gyn reside.

He was a cheerful man, who greeted them enthusiastically.

“Hi, I’m Mark Tyre, an OB/gyn, and I’m here to help you with anything regarding your pregnancy. When were you’re last period?”

“Somewhere in December…” she said, still in shock. “But.. I can’t be pregnant! We used protection, I’m on the pills!”

“Well, protection sometimes fails,” the doctor said. “And we will make sure soon.”

He invited her to examination table and lifted her shirt. The gel he smeared onto it was cold and gave Layla chills. She looked down on her belly. It was visibly bloated…

Inside of her belly was shown on the USG machine. The doctor looked at the picture long, but Layla couldn’t make up much from the monitor. All was some blobs and shapes.

“Wow,” the OB/gyn said. “It looks like there is more than one,” he started to speak.

“Twins?!” Layla asked. She couldn’t believe it.

“No,” the doctor said. “There is the first baby,” he pointed one of the shapes. “The second baby, the third,” he pointed the next shapes, and Layla felt she might faint. “The fourth, fifth, and the final one, the sixth baby. You’re having sextuplets! It’s eight week.”

“No, that’s can’t be…”

“Did you take any fertility pills?” the doctor asked.

“No…”

“Well, actually… I meant to tell you…” Clark started. Layla’s eyes widened. “Those pills my brother gave me… It turned out they were fertility pills he researched in his company. Wonderful sex was just an side effect.”

“What??” Layla was shocked. “Why Bruce did this to me?”

“I don’t know…” Clark averted his gaze.

“Well, anyway, it seemed the pills worked,” the OB/gyn said. “I’d suggest to contact research department in this company for any side effects. As for your pregnancy… I’d gladly manage your pregnancy. It will be extremely high risk, but I hope it will end successfully.”

Layla sighed. It was overwhelming.  

*

The next days Layla didn’t feel  better at all. She was a bit angry with Clark, even if he was all supportive and caring. He managed to organize meeting with Chief of R&D department in the pharmaceutical company. They went there together, a week later.

Layla continued to feel more and more bloated, her jeans started not to button, so she wore mostly sweatpants now. It was mid-February, so definitely too cold for dresses.

They went to the appointment, and Layla started to get into terms with her condition. She loved children and always wanted a big family. She just wasn’t sure if she wanted it like that.

“Miss Wilson? The researcher asked. “And mister Gable?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let me examine you..”

The doctor took an ultrasound wound and pressed to her swollen middle. She felt bloated, and no surprise as she was carrying six babies.

“Yes there are indeed sextuplets. How many pills did you take?”

“Aaa… six of them, on sic different occasions,” Layla said.

“No wonder there are six babies in there.”

“How am I gonna to cope with it?” she asked

“Do you want this babies?” doctor asked.

“Yes, I want them. And I don’t want to put them for adoption.”

“That makes things easier. You will be dedicated to the cause, to the hardships of it. Because I had a bad news for you.”

“What news?” Layla seemed frightened.

“You’re pregnancy gonna be longer. For two weeks for each child so it will lasts for 52 weeks. And year. And only then it will be carried to the term. And it’s extremely important to carried it, otherwise the children might not survive.”

“What, why? Why it gonna be so long?

“The medicine slows down the gestation, to ensure babies safety. Don’t get me wrong, you gonna get big, bigger then ever, but a bot slower, Although I’m sure by the end of it you not gonna notice.”

“I also can propose you a place ion our facility to ensure babies safety. They will be delivered naturally there.”

“Naturally? Six babies?”

Yes, it’s of utmost importance. Also you can go to school as long as you can.”

“Okay.”

“Just bring your staff to the facility, so we could take good care of you as soon as possible. There will be other pregnant woman in facility who runs test of our fertility treatment, but none of them did accidentally. And most of them has two babies at most, because they didn’t overuse our medication.

However fingers crossed for you.”

[imagineyourepregnant]

i am requesting for some more stories with farting in it to be tagged... so i know what to look for actually

To my knowledge there haven’t been many since I started working on IYP. But going forward I will make sure to tag everything properly.

-ModB

[imagineyourepregnant]

Could it be ok for you guys to tag farting from the latest story posted? Then i can filter it out. Thanks i hope its not much trouble

Yes I can do this. I had considered it but didn’t have an actual tag for it yet. Thank you for letting me know. I will add it to the tag list.

-ModB