Nico

20 Just an enby with a preg kink. Minors and zoos dni

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Hey, I made a new account since @writing-nico got hidden. I mainly post my writing on there, so I guess this will be drabbles and doodles. If you want to read my stuff, I have my other blog and I might post on AO3 soon. I'm trying to keep this one online. Send any requests to my other account.

Minors DNI

[notnicodrawingstuff]

At midnight, she draws a sigil over her swollen belly in red paint. The line in the middle stretches from her navel to her clitoris, opening the gateway. This day has been months in the making, the birth of the child of the demon she worships. In order to properly blend the likes of demonic and human heritage, a soul is to be summoned as the baby is born, giving the body life. When this is done, she labors by her bed, surrounded by candles. The baby's head is like a stone barreling through her, she barely has time to squat before the baby is pressing against the outside world. After multiple agonizing pushes, the baby's head bursts out and all the candles in the room are suddenly extinguished. Her baby got a soul, now all that left is to finish the birth. She drops lower and pushes again, but as the shoulders approach her opening, she feels bony structures poking and scratching her, making her flinch. She keeps trying, but it's so painful, that her body forces her to give up before she makes any more progress. She knew it was a possibility that her baby would have wings, but she never knew how excruciating it would be to birth them. After multiple attempts, she gives in, gets on her knees, spreads them out to make room for the head and prays to her master in hopes of solace. She pushes and prays until noon the next day, when her baby boy finally drops between her legs. She's absolutely enamored with him, but even though the ritual is over, the signal hasn't disappeared. She tried to rub it off, but it only heats up under her touch. It seems that having her gateway open so long has allowed for other souls to attempt to make their way earth side.

[writing-nico]

Dirty Little Secrets

18+ Fiction, no minors allowed

Contains: Labor, childbirth, mention of past miscarriages, tmpreg, vaginal birth, slight birth denial, pregnancy denial, clothing birth, difficult birth, post apocalyptic setting, t4t, multiple births. About 9.4k words.

{A king, traumatized by multiple losses, has been in denial his entire pregnancy. Everything comes crumbling down when he gets word of his wife's impending return.}

To say that Iliad felt as if he had swallowed a stone would be an understatement. Every day he woke up expecting sharp pains, blood running down his legs, and the sting of grief over what might have been. Despite his anxiety, those sensations never came. He wore loose clothes, but as king, he didn't dress himself. Due to that factor, word spread through the palace about 25 weeks in. No one said anything directly to him, but the maids had quietly set up a nursery within his side of the palace for the seemingly impending arrival. 

Iliad couldn't bring himself to believe it. There had been seven before this. Three times he had gotten his hopes up, twice that he had been terrified, and twice that he had just cried in his wife's arms at the news. They all ended the same, and even though he had come to expect it more each time, it didn't hurt any less. To avoid that feeling, he opted to be silent about it. He hadn't told anyone, not even Edith. 

It was ridiculous that it had gone on this long, but what was he to do now? His wife, the queen, had begun her diplomatic journey through the broken remains of what used to be the one large country the day after he found out. He’d thought to tell her, but seeing how stressed she was to appease their allies and adversaries, Iliad clammed up. He couldn't put anything else on her then, especially when it was unlikely to come to fruition, so he kept it to himself. He had watched her leave and simply hoped that the family he did have would return. He moved on, or so he thought, maintaining Reuben and the palace; waiting for this too, to pass. 

All Iliad wanted was to be in the forge, continuing a project, but every time he arrived, he was promptly (though politely) shooed out. Instead, he had settled for fixing up a nearly eighty year old 3D printer. Finding parts had been difficult and storing enough electricity himself to power it for longer than a few minutes was also a challenge, but that gave him something to do other than wait. 

As the months passed by it was getting more and more difficult to sit for long periods of time to work and today was no exception. Being forty weeks and two days pregnant meant that everything hurt, he was constantly exhausted, and he could barely breathe. At least until a week ago, when he started getting cramps. He was relieved at first, it was finally over. Soon he could go back to his normal life of tinkering and get over the inevitable grief. Then, his belly dropped and it threw him for a loop. Being physically able to breathe again was the strangest sensation after so long, but mentally, he was more panicked than ever before. He had no idea what he was doing, he hadn't prepared for a baby, and he hadn't even admitted to himself that he was pregnant. 

Instead of figuring any of that out, he opted to keep tinkering, completely in denial. It was fine for the time being, but the way that these cramps had been hitting him today, he knew deep down that he wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer. That was the thought he kept shoving away as a knock came to the door of his workshop. 

“May I come in?” 

He recognized the voice of Kallan, his ever growing shadow, immediately. He didn't even look up or stop fiddling with his screwdriver to answer. 

“Go ahead.” He replied.

The door opened and the young man entered the room, taking a look around. At the silence, Iliad finally stopped to look at him and scratched his beard. 

“What is it, Kallan?” He asked tiredly. 

Kallan’s jaw clenched and he swallowed thickly. Nervously, he pulled on the collar of his shirt. 

“I was told to let you know that the queen is on her way, she should be returning tomorrow morning.” He said. 

On the outside, Iliad kept his face even, but he was sure that he felt his heart stop and then resume. Hearing every beat in his ears, he gave Kallan a curt nod and returned to his work. 

“Thank you, Kallan. Have the palace begin preparation for her arrival. You know her favorites by now, I hope?” He said. 

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Kallan shift on his feet and confusion flash over his face before he remembered who he was speaking to. “Of course, my king.” He said. He paused, it seemed like he wanted to say something and Iliad already knew what it was about. He wasn't going to give him the chance. 

“You are dismissed, Kallan.” He said, trying to ignore his goggles fogging up on his face. 

“Alright. I will let you know how the preparations go. Have a good rest of your day, sir.” He said. 

Finally, he politely shut the door behind him, leaving Iliad alone with his thoughts. He tried to keep tinkering, even as his heart raced, tears pricked his eyes, and his breaths grew shallow. Eventually, he dropped the screwdriver and ripped off his goggles, feeling hot all of a sudden. He moved to push his elbows into his thighs, but was stopped by his massive burden. He cried out and pressed them into the table instead, resting his head in his hands. Tears ran down his arms as he cried silently. Even though everyone knew, he still didn't want to be heard. The curve of his belly jumped as he sobbed, making the weight of his situation even more apparent. What the hell was he going to do now? How was he supposed to continue? Would any of the palace staff tell Edith? Did he have to keep doing this alone? He didn't think he could take much more, and as more cramps spread through him, he was sure that his body felt the same. 

Iliad didn't sleep much that night, mostly due to worry, but also because the pain would interrupt his weariness. He still didn't know what to think. What was he going to say to his wife when she saw him? He had always been stocky, and his large breasts masked the growth of his belly a bit, but he’d never been this heavy. Even if Edith didn't immediately suspect that he was pregnant, surely she’d notice the changes. Maybe he’d tell her that he’d wanted it to be a surprise? Lie and say that he’d sent letters but she’d just never gotten them? Maybe he could tell her the truth, that he was afraid of losing this one too. That he hadn't expected to get this far. 

He found himself resting his hand on the crest of his abdomen, his silver wedding ring gleaming in the moonlight. Even if he had gotten this far, there was no guarantee that this child would live. There was still time, he could cope with another loss. It could still be ripped from him, and he wanted to be prepared for when it was. As he thought, he felt movement under his hand and pulled away as if he had been burned. He wanted to roll over and turn his back on the moon, forcing his eyes shut, but he was currently pinned on that side. Too heavy to move. 

His shabby alarm clock pulled him out of his light sleep the next morning. Tiredly, he pressed his old project to make it stop and lifted his head to read the hands. It was five in the morning. Four hours of sleep simply wasn't enough. Iliad felt worse than when he’d gotten into a bottle of twenty year old melatonin as a kid. Despite that feeling, it wouldn't be like him not to show up to meet his wife. 

Pulling himself out of bed had proved to be a chore. The burden attached to him tried to drag him back into the sheets, along with his sleepiness. Eventually, he sat on the edge of the mattress with the comforter kicked off to the side. He sighed and brushed his curls out of his face, letting his hazel eyes meet the morning sun. His belly rested firmly on his knees, pressing his feet into the floor. 

“Sir?” Kallan called through the door. 

Iliad huffed in annoyance and turned towards it. 

“Yes?” He asked. 

“The queen is supposed to be arriving within the next hour. Should I call the housekeepers to dress you?” Kallan asked. 

Iliad sucked a weary breath in through his nose. “Of course. Thank you, Kallan.” He said. 

A curt hum came from the other side. “My pleasure, sir.” He said. 

After a moment, Kallan's footsteps departed, leaving Iliad alone again. Preparing for his servants to arrive, he rolled his neck and pressed his hands into the bed, trying to stand. As soon the remainder of his core muscles tightened, a flash of pain rushed through him. He winced and plopped back down, hearing the bed springs squeak.

His left hand flew to his belly before he pulled it away again. He didn't want to acknowledge the pain, but it was intense. His womb hardened as he gritted his teeth, waiting for it to pass. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't ready. He was afraid. 

After a few moments of holding his breath, the ache subsided. He let out a long wheeze and rubbed his hand down his face, a light layer of perspiration was left on his hand. Without even knowing, he had spread his legs, letting his belly fall between them. As soon as he realized, he closed them and felt something cold and wet in his undergarments. He frowned and tried to look down, before remembering that he wouldn't be able to see anyway. As he tried to figure out what to do next, someone knocked on his door. 

“Sir?” Another voice asked. 

It was the other servants, he had to do something before they came in. Almost losing his balance, he pushed himself off of the bed and began to rush to the adjoining bathroom. 

“Just a second!” He called back. 

As soon as he shut the door, he pulled his pants down and sat on the toilet, finding a clump of mucus in his underwear. He could feel all of the blood rushing away from his face. Iliad had lost mucus plugs before, but never all at once or one that seemed so…healthy? He wasn't really sure what that meant, but it wasn't mostly blood like before. He huffed and rested his head in his hands again. 

This was real. This baby could come any day now and he had no idea what he was doing. Had he really just spent over ten months ignoring it and hoping that it would go away like the others? What the fuck? As he started to wonder what his next move would be, another ache, which he just barely acknowledged was a contraction crept up on him, tightening him up. The way things were going, this baby was probably coming sooner rather than later. 

His wife was coming back, he wasn't prepared for anything, and he still wanted to believe that this was some dream that he would just wake up from. Hell, he was forty, what was he doing having a baby? Would they be healthy? Did they have a cord wrapped around them? Had he eaten enough? He started to pace, until he remembered that his underwear was ruined. Still out of it, he cleaned them and changed. Hopefully, he hadn't taken too long. 

After a tiring waddle to his bedroom door, he opened it, letting the servants inside. Soren, head of his team, was the first to greet him with a slightly anxious smile. 

“Good morning, sir. How are you feeling?” He asked, others trailed behind him with clothes for him to choose from. 

Iliad shifted his eyes in thought. 

‘Like a death row inmate on his way to the electric chair.’

“I'm well, thank you. How far out is Edith?” He asked as he was surrounded by servants, who ushered him to the seat of his and his wife’s shared vanity. 

“About half an hour sir, so we must make haste. Do you have any suggestions for us today?” Soren asked.

Iliad did his best not to move as his hair and beard were trimmed. “Surprise me.” He said. At this point, he didn't care, he was just trying to prepare for Edith’s wrath. 

Soren blinked curiously. “Alright then.” He replied. 

Iliad noticed that his employees tried to keep him seated as much as possible and while he hated so many people knowing, he appreciated the effort. His feet and ankles were far too swollen to be standing for long periods of time. Not to mention the cramps that would come every now and then. He worked to keep his face even, especially as they worked on his hair and make up, but it was proving difficult, especially since he had just acknowledged that he was even pregnant. He could feel the baby pressing low, pushing against his cervix like a hydraulic press. For the first time, he allowed himself to rest a hand over his aches, hoping to soothe them. It didn't do much. 

Through the corner of his eye, he noticed a maid reach for his binding tape. He shifted his eyes towards her, feeling a bit of panic rising in his chest. If he was bound, it would only make his belly more apparent, and his breasts were already tender. 

“Not today, Lily.” He told her. 

Lily nodded and moved on to another task. Iliad sighed inwardly as he was dressed. Eventually, he donned a white silk shirt, a black suit with silver detailing, the coat was a bit big on him and the color was slimming, so he was concealed as much as he could be while being heavily pregnant. White lace gloves encased his hands, he wore a silver necklace in the shape of a collared lizard, black dress shoes that would have been too big for him months ago, and a long white cloak with a hood and a silver clasp to further hide his form. 

Soren helped him to his feet and he stood in front of the mirror, suddenly very aware of what he looked like. His cheeks had filled out, his nose and lips were swollen, his freckles were blotchy, his jawline was barely there, and his belly looked as if he were on the verge of liver failure. He clicked his tongue and shook his head at himself. He was so fucked.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Soren asked. 

“I can't go see her like this.” He said. 

He hadn't even meant to say such a thing, an admission, but it just rolled off of his tongue before he could think. This was insane. Who did he think he was fooling?

“I'm sorry, we must have gotten the wrong measurements for the shirt. I can send for another o-”

Iliad cut Soren off with a bitter smile. “Thank you, but that won't be necessary. There's nothing more I can do to hide this.” He said. 

“I'm sure the queen won't mind, in fact she’ll be overjoyed. I know how long you have wanted children.” Soren replied, trying to reassure him. 

“She would be, if she knew.” Iliad said. 

The room froze. He wasn't really looking at them but he caught the eyes of several servants lock onto each other in shock. Soren blinked, confused. 

“Pardon me?” He asked. 

“She doesn't know. I never told her.” Iliad clarified. 

“Oh, that's… quite the revelation.” Soren said quietly.

Iliad huffed and made a blank face. “What did you think I was doing all this time?” He asked. 

Soren hesitated. 

“Just say something. I'm not going to persecute you.” Iliad grumbled. 

The servant looked at his eyes through the mirror rather than directly at him. “I suppose I assumed that you simply didn't want to talk about it. It makes sense considering….” He trailed off, letting the heavy silence of implication fall between them. 

“Alright, I suppose that's fair, but I actually just couldn't believe it. I didn't want to.” He admitted, trying to keep calm so that he wouldn't ruin his make up. 

“My king, if I may?” Despite asking, Soren didn't wait for his reply. “After everything you've been through, I don't blame you for reacting that way, but the queen is your wife. You’ll have to tell her at some point. Hopefully before you have a newborn on your hands.” 

Iliad nodded. “I know, but she's going to be upset with me.” He said. 

“Probably, but there's really nothing you can do about that now. You will just have to take accountability. We’ll be here no matter what happens.” Soren replied.

Iliad let out a deep sigh, blinking back tears. “You're right.” He said.

As the conversation died, another knock came to the door. Trying not to let his voice crack, he ushered the newcomers in. Two knights from the royal guard entered the room and bowed to him. 

“My liege, the queen has arrived.” One said. 

Iliad bit the inside of his cheek and hid his arms under the cloak. He had thought to force a smile, but decided not to, just wishing that he could fast forward through his doom. 

“Rise. Take me to her, please.” He replied. 

The knights rose and escorted him from his chambers, leaving the servants in shock. 

Iliad’s hips and back aches with every step. Noticing this, the guards slowed down to match his pace, stopping when he started to become short of breath. While he was grateful to have attentive staff, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. The staff had been silently accommodating him all this time and he had said nothing to thank them. He hadn't even acknowledged the baby growing inside of him. 

After another pause to rest, Iliad took in a deep breath and sighed. 

“Thank you.” 

The guards nodded curly and waited for him to start walking again. Iliad was in disbelief about how big the palace was. Every stair, hallway, and corridor winded him. He was always a bigger man, but being pregnant had nothing on that. He gritted his teeth at the thought. The word, pregnant, stuck with him after so long in denial. It was a sickening feeling. 

Finally, after another half an hour, he reached the great hall, greeted by the beautiful sight of his wife. As soon as she heard his footsteps, she whipped around to look at him. When he looked at her face, his breath was taken away again. It had been seven months since he’d seen her and she had only become more enchanting. 

Edith’s presence commanded any room that she was in. Having been the crown prince in her youth and brave enough to become a queen, she knew her power. She was six foot three and made of lean muscle. Her long, dark red coils graced her shoulder blades, her smooth, dark brown skin had a healthy glow, and her deep brown eyes absorbed the sun like quartz crystals. 

Then, there was her smile. Her raw happiness and love bled through the gap in her teeth and stretched her repaired cleft lip to its limits. Her dimples seemed ready to poke through her cheeks. She was precious. How could he have hidden so much from the woman that he loved? 

Iliad froze as Edith giggled and ran up to him, her suit of silver armor sending echoes through the palaces. She opened her arms and before he could even think, she was lifting him off the ground to hug and kiss him. 

“My king! It's been an eternity!” She breathed blissfully. 

Iliad stiffened, accidentally pressing his belly into himself, causing his womb to cramp. He winced in pain. Edith immediately, but gently set him back on his feet, her eyes filled with worry. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?” She asked, dusting off his shoulders. 

As the contraction faded, Iliad sighed and smiled softly, momentarily forgetting about the predicament that he was in. 

“I'm fine, Edie. I was just a little surprised.” He said. 

His heart instantly sank at the lie, as he was brought back to reality. Forty weeks and two days pregnant. How was he supposed to admit that to her now? 

Nodding, Edith rested her hand on the small of his back and began to walk with him down the hallway. 

“I have so much to tell you about my journey to the east coast! And I brought you gifts! We can catch up before the banquet.” She said excitedly. 

Seven months of catching up to do. If they were getting ready to do that, now was a good opportunity. He could get it out of the way quickly, before things got worse. 

“That's exciting, dear. I have something to tell you too.” He said, trying to keep up with her pace. 

Edith's eyes felt like lasers staring into his soul when she turned to him, her loving smile stretching larger. 

“Oh!? What is it? I’d love to hear what you’ve been getting up to, Iliad.” She said excitedly. 

It took everything in him not to avoid her eyes. He swallowed thickly as he tried to think of what to say next. 

‘I’m heavily pregnant and I’ve been hiding it from you for over half a year!’

‘I’m in early labor and yes, it's yours.’

‘Surprise! We’re probably having a baby today!’

Despite a couple moments of sarcastic thoughts, he drew a blank. How was he supposed to tell her such a big secret now? What would she think of him afterwards? She would never trust him again! 

“Oh, it's nothing important. I’d love to hear your stories first.” He relented, his voice trembling with both anxiety and shortness of breath. 

Edith's brows furrowed so briefly that if Iliad had blinked, he would have missed it. 

“Are you sure? It's only seven in the morning. We have until five in the evening to talk. I would be a lousy wife if I didn't want to listen to the love of my life.” She asked, her smile waning. 

‘She’s giving you a chance. Just come out and say it!’

Still, her slightly fallen face terrified him. He couldn't imagine how upset she would be when he told her after all this time. They rarely fought, and even then, she rarely was angry at him, but disappointment and lost trust was worse. He couldn't be on the receiving end of that. 

“No!” He blurted out. 

Edith jumped back a bit. Seeing that, Iliad cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. 

“I mean, no. It's fine. I can wait. Really.” He said. 

Edith nodded with a low hum. Iliad recognized it well. It meant that she was only conceding for now. 

“Okay then, I have a lot to tell you. Have you ever tried a Philly cheese steak?” She asked. 

The couple spent blissful hours talking over tea and overseeing the banquet preparations. Edith came home with a few new scars that he fussed over, points of view, and experiences. Despite the pit in his stomach, Iliad laughed more than once with her. He even told her a few things that had happened at the palace while she was away, dancing around his pregnancy nervously. 

While she listened, he noticed many curious looks on her face and he would change the subject to let her talk when he got too close to admitting the truth. All the while, he could feel the baby kicking and getting lower. He tried to ignore it, some people labored for days, it might not happen any time soon. He just needed more time to figure out how he was going to tell her. 

 Before long, it was three in the afternoon and time to get dressed for the celebration of the Queen's return. Edith gave him a kiss goodbye as she went with her lady’s maids to get out of her travel clothes, leaving Iliad feeling alone. As she left, he stared in her direction until she wasn't even there anymore. 

“Sir?” Kallan asked, snapping him out of his trance. 

He whipped his body around, or at least attempted to. He was so heavy that it nearly knocked him off balance, not to mention that tightening his core to move only added pressure. He winced and immediately raised his right hand to his roundness, feeling his womb constrict under his skin and muscles. It was the strangest thing that he had ever experienced. 

“Are you alright?” The young man asked, reaching out to him, just barely stopping before he made contact. 

Iliad waved him off and nodded, gritting his teeth until the pain stopped. When it did, he gasped loudly and deeply as his muscles finally relaxed. As he came out of it panting, he noticed that he had hunched over, letting his belly hang between his knees. His left hand had a white knuckled grip on his necklace. The lizard's collar left prints on his palm. 

“Sir. Have you been timing your…” Kallan hesitated for a moment before speaking. “...pains?” He asked gently.

Iliad shook his head. “This is the first one that's really taken me out like that.” He admitted. 

“I'm not the most educated on the matter, but you might be in active labor. Do you want me to summon the queen and doctors?” Soren asked. 

At the mention of his wife, Iliad’s breath hitched. He responded without thinking. 

“No. I'm fine. The ba- it might not happen today and I want Edith to enjoy her first day home without stress.” He responded gravelly. 

Kallan looked absolutely mortified. “My king, are you sure? This is serious. You're in pain. You need to be resting to prepare for- for the ordeal.” He urged. 

Iliad shook his head. “I can't.” He whimpered. 

“But si-”

“Just help me to my chambers. That's an order, Kallan.” He grumbled. 

Kallan shut his lips tight and nodded. Gently, he helped the king stand and let him lean on his shoulder as they walked. Now, instead of stopping because he was short of breath, they stopped to let him groan out the pain every five to seven minutes. 

Iliad was silent as the servants dressed him for the banquet, looking upon him with worry as they wiped sweat off of his face every so often. He could see how uneasy everyone was, especially Soren and Kallan. They clearly wanted to advise him to get help, but being that he was their king and he was barely acknowledging the fact that he was pregnant, let alone in labor, there wasn't much that they could do. 

His outfit was similar to what he had worn earlier that morning. After working with his contractions, he donned a black damask shirt, it was heavy against his hot skin, but it masked his parous belly enough. A deep blue cotton suit covered more and a grey, velvet cloak graced his shoulders and back. 

After they were done, he tried to stand, but was weighed down by his belly and lingering pain. He let out a long huff and silently raised his hand. Soren took it and lifted him to his feet. Just from that, Iliad was exhausted and leaning on the other man for support as he caught his breath. 

“Thank you.” He whispered with effort.

Soren nodded quietly and waited for the king to let go. Slowly this time, he turned to the hodgepodge alarm clock by his bedside, finding that it was already 5:03 in the evening. He swallowed hard as his heart picked up speed. With the way this baby was battering his body, he was going to be incredibly late for the banquet. What would Edith say? What would their guests think? The delay could probably confuse everyone. 

Should he concede to the contractions and call the night off? He pressed his hand to his belly as he tried to think. Any reasonable person would give in. Hell, a reasonable person would have never been in this situation in the first place. He had to get out of this. Damn the thoughts of everyone else, this was an emergency. He was going to give birth, and soon. 

A sudden knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up. He turned to Soren, who started for the entrance. He took one second to look at the peephole before turning around. 

“It's the queen, sir.” He said, barely hiding his own anxiety. 

Iliad's temperature and heart rate were at an all time high now. His queen, his love, was on the other side of that door, probably wondering what was taking him so long. All of his resolve washed away at the thought of her face. 

“Let her in.” He said sternly, straightening himself up. 

Soren looked upon him with disbelief, his jaw dropped and trembled as he started to protest. 

“But si-”

“Please, Soren.” Iliad said, his voice crumbling. 

Soren bit his lip and nodded bitterly, opening the door for Edith. Calmly, with knights at her side, his angel on earth entered the room. She wore a deep blue, floor length, off the shoulder trumpet gown that glittered silver. Every curve of hers was gently hugged. Her hair was styled in hundreds of voluminous mini twists adorned with gems that shone just like her eyes. 

She seemed concerned at first, but when she laid eyes on him, her expression shifted into a soft smile. Love flowed from her big brown eyes. 

“Oh, there you are. Are you ready?” She asked. 

‘Not at all.’ He thought. 

Instead, he forced a smile and nodded, carefully walking towards her to take her hand in his. 

Most of the banquet was a blur for Iliad from the start of the walk to the first dance. He did his best to sit through the event, smile and make conversation, but as the hours passed, it was getting harder and harder. 

He nibbled on small portions and faked sipping the wine. Labor was making his stomach queasy and even if it wasn't, he’d be in too much pain to concentrate on eating a full meal. The sounds and smells were making his head hurt. His hips, womb and cervix were sore and he’d had to excuse himself to use the bathroom multiple times so that he would soil his clothes. 

As this was happening, he began timing his contractions on his watch, growing more and more anxious as they went from lasting thirty to eighty seconds as the night wore on, and started to come within three minutes of each other. By 9:30, he could feel his body starting to attempt to force himself to push, and the baby’s head steadily pressing against his cervix, starting to shove it way through at times. 

He gripped the table and curled his swollen toes as the conversation and music droned on in the background of his agony. Little by little, he could feel his resolve breaking, it wouldn’t be long before he couldn't delay this anymore. He'd have to give birth at some point. He just hoped that he could hold off until eleven, when the banquet would end. It was wishful and ridiculous thinking, but he had put himself in this situation. After eleven, he could retire to his chambers, summon medical personnel and give birth on his own while his queen rested in hers. At least he could hold off having to tell her until morning then. 

As his new plan formed, it was quickly dashed when he felt a thick gush soak through his clothes. After that, it felt like everything below opened up. Without the cushioning of the amniotic sac, the baby's head bashed against his cervix so brutally that he jumped. He started to cry out, but just barely managed to turn it into a high pitched squeak. Multiple nobles turned to look at him with expressions in between concern and annoyance. 

Quickly, Iliad waved them off as he gathered the energy to speak. 

“Sor- I’m sorry, just chills.” He stuttered. 

With a few shrugs, they all went back to talking. Without even noticing, Iliad began to spread his legs and lean forward. His hand was pressed against his belly as his womb shrank inside of him. As he panted as quietly as he could, trying not to push, a hand on his shoulder interrupted his storm of thoughts. He flinched and turned to his wife, who looked upon him lovingly. 

“I'm not sure what's going on right now, but you don't look well. If something is wrong, please tell me. I want to help you, baby.” She said just loud enough for him to hear. 

While his fears were still trying to spill from his throat, eyes, and gushing manhood, his wife's words broke his resolve. 

“I- *umph* I ne-need to go. It's-it’s too much.” He grunted. 

“Go where darling?” She asked gently. 

“Mmmm-my cham-chambers. Make it stop.” He panted. 

Edith nodded and immediately took action. “Okay. I’ll tell the staff to get the guests to leave. I’ll be right back, just hang on.” She said, starting to stand. 

Iliad instinctively grabbed her arm and gripped it like a vice. He wasn't trying to hurt her, but the pain he was in made it impossible for him to be gentler. 

“No!” He nearly shouted. 

Eyes turned towards him again and while he didn't look back, he did force himself to be quieter. 

“You have to stay. Help me!” He pleaded. 

Seeing his expression, Edith frowned in concern, nodded and quickly summoned a guard. When she came up to her, she whispered in her ear and she left with a curt bow. 

As Edith helped him to stand, he just barely heard the announcer bring an end to the ball. The guests clamored in confusion, but he was too focused on trying to get to his chambers to care. With his arm around her shoulders, he felt her look back, but neither of them said anything. 

They ducked through the servant passageways to get around quicker. Despite the anguish, he was relieved that she didn't try to take them the normal way. He didn't think he would have made it. He was barely walking himself as it was. Edith held him up, her strong arms supporting him. The more they walked, the more pressure that he felt. It seemed as if he was going to burst at the seams if he didn't start to push soon. This baby was not waiting and that was made clear when he felt a thick pop when they stepped out of the passageway. His child had rammed past his cervix. While it was only a matter of time before he’d have to give in to what his body was telling him it needed to do, at least it wasn't happening in front of all the nobles. He just needed to get to his room before it was too late. 

“Iliad. What's going on?” Edith asked as they entered his side of the palace. “Are you sick?”

He shook his head, feeling salty tears run down his face. “No.” He whimpered. 

She frowned deeply, but not in anger. “Then what's happening? I saw something on your chair.” She said 

Iliad white knuckled his shirt as another contraction geared up to run him through. 

“I can't. I'm scared!” He cried. 

“Can't what, Iliad? Who do I need to call to fix this?” She demanded, her voice cracking with fearful tears of her own. 

Iliad shook his head and started to respond when the worst contraction that he had ever felt hit him. Even with Edith supporting him, his legs went limp and all of his weight was shifted onto his wife. Realizing that his body was giving out, she set him on his knees as gently as possible and kneeled down at his side. 

“Iliad!” She cried. 

Instinctively, Iliad got on his hands and knees, letting his big belly hand down. His nails scraped the smooth floors as he finally pushed. He howled in pain as the baby stretched him out, forcing its way down. Edith pulled his shirt up, exposing the tremendous swell of his belly. It was so large at this point that his popped out belly button just managed to touch the floor. Angry blue and red veins strained across the taut paunch. Red and purple stretch marks raced along with them. 

In shock, Edith looked between his face and belly. 

“How?” She whispered, watching his belly shrink against him as he pushed. 

“UUUUUUUUAAAAAHHHH!” He screamed, split flying from his mouth as the pain completely took over.

At this, his wife leapt into action. She tore his cloak off of him, exposing a giant wet spot on the bottom of his pants, growing as fluid dripped from his vagina to the flawless floor. 

“Oh shit!” She gasped. 

“HHHUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHH!” Iliad bellowed as the baby's head began to part his opening. 

He spread his knees apart and pressed himself lower to the ground, pressing his heavy burden into the floor. 

“Wait stop, the baby's crowning!” Edith urged. 

Iliad gasped deeply. “I can't! It hurts so BAAAAAAAD AAAAAHH!” 

He effectively screamed the baby into a crown, feeling the head pressing against his underwear. His labia and opening spread impossibly around the wide head, only making him scream harder. 

“IT BURNS! IT BURNS! GET IT OUTTA MEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Ohshitohshitohshitoshit!” Edith cried in panic. 

She reached to pull down his pants by the waist band, but it was tight around his laboring hips. She tried to pull them down by the pant leg at the thigh, but his body was too tense and clammy for the fabric to budge even an inch. As the baby slowly turned inside of him, Iliad cried until his voice broke. Seeing no other way, Edith quickly ripped open the seat of his pants, revealing the bulge of the head in his underwear. 

The shock of realizing once again that her husband was giving birth nearly froze her, but she fought through it, tearing open his underwear as well. Feeling the cold air on his backside, Iliad went down on his elbows, arching his back, adding more pressure to his womb. 

The baby's head only seemed to stretch wider as he pushed. He gurgled as the effort took all of the air in his lungs.

“Iliad!” Edith shouted. 

He didn't listen, he could only think of pushing this baby out. He needed it to be over. It was so painful. 

“Honey!” She tried again. 

Iliad gasped for air and kept pushing, spreading his legs wider to make more room for the baby. As the head began to come to its widest point, Iliad was suddenly pulled up and into Edith's lap, changing his center of gravity. His belly jumped up at the sudden movement, causing fluid to spurt painfully past the baby's head. 

“You have to rest in between contractions, Iliad! You're going to hurt yourself.” Edith said, holding him just above his massive load.

Despite her cries, he didn't stop, he pulled his left leg back and planted his foot into the ground, trying to force the baby out faster. 

“Iliad!” She shouted. 

“I CAN'T! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!” He screamed. 

“You have to! We’ve already lost so much on the way to this moment, I can't lose you too!” She urged. 

Finally, she reached him. As the contraction ended, he relaxed his leg and stopped pushing. His baby's head hung out of him at the widest point, dripping with amniotic fluid and blood. He was painfully spread, but if he had kept pushing he would have surely torn. Trembling in his wife's arms, he panted through the pain as best he could. Letting himself stretch more carefully. 

“That's it baby. Slow deep breaths for me.” She rasped tearfully. 

She rubbed gentle circles at the pinnacle of his belly with her warm hand as she whispered words of encouragement in his ear, kissing his neck and jaw. Comforted by her embrace, his breaths slowed as he waited for the next contraction. 

Slowly, she reached for his hand and guided it below. 

“Don't you want to feel our baby?” She asked. 

Silently, but firmly, Iliad nodded and let his wife gingerly place their hands on the baby's head. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. For the first time, a baby was coming out alive. Their warmth struck him straight in the heart. He couldn't believe that he had denied them for so long. 

“I wan- I want to see.” He whimpered past hiccups, tears of relief filling his eyes this time. 

“I can see it in the reflection on the floor. Believe me, it's beautiful, baby.” Edith said softly. 

Iliad tried to follow her gaze, but his belly blocked his view. He was disappointed, but he didn't get to wallow in it for long. Following the tender moment, he was sent into the throes of another contraction. While the pain was still unbearable, he was more focused and less forceful. This time he breathed through pushing, keeping his hand on the baby's head as he did. 

“That's it, Iliad. You're doing great.” Edith whispered. 

“Hooooh.” Iliad blew, his voice trembling from the pain and the ordeal in general. 

Finally, the baby's head burst free with a loud squelch, spilling more fluids from him as the contraction waned. 

“Ohhhh.” He groaned in a mix of relief and pain. 

“Good job, baby.” Edith said, kissing his jaw. 

Iliad swallowed thickly and began to trace his baby's face. Feeling a tiny nose and lips. 

“I bet they look like you.” He said with a breathless laugh. 

He could hear Edith's smile in her voice. “We’ll just have to see.” She said, patting the hand that rested on their baby. 

Iliad took a deep breath as he felt the next one coming and planted his feet again. Letting out a deep sigh, he pushed and the baby's left shoulder escaped him. 

“Keep going, darling.” Edith said. 

With another deep breath, he pushed out the right shoulder. Immediately after, his body loosened up and the baby fell into their parent's waiting hands. Pulling them up into his arms, he laid eyes on them for the first time. A brown skinned baby girl with a flash of red curls. As he focused on her face, she opened her mouth and started to cry. 

Tears dribbled from his eyes and he smiled at her. “I knew it. She does look like you.” He said. 

Edith huffed a laugh. 

“I guess that's what I get, huh?” He said. He brought her to his chest and held her close. 

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby girl.” He whispered as he kissed her. 

Edith nuzzled him as they watched their little girl kick and cry. 

“What should we even call her?” She asked. 

Iliad shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea.” He replied. 

Soon after, the medical team and servants swooped in to take care of Iliad and the baby. As he heard Edith fussing at them for taking so long in the background, he watched them like a hawk as they brought him and the baby to his chambers separately. After taking about fifteen minutes to clean them up and make sure the baby was healthy, they handed her back to him. 

By this point, Iliad was laying in his bed in only a pajama shirt with a blanket covering his lower half and his legs propped up as they waited for the placenta to evacuate. Edith sat beside him, running her fingers through his hair. 

“The newborn princess of Reuben. Congratulations, my king and queen.” The doctor said as she gently placed the swaddled baby into Iliad's arms. 

Edith kissed his cheek as they looked upon their little girl. After fifteen years of marriage and seven losses, they finally had a baby girl to call their own. 

“I can't believe it.” Edith breathed, letting her daughter grip her pinky finger in her tiny hand. 

“Neither can I.” Iliad agreed. 

Edith's expression shifted. “When did you find out?” She asked. 

“The day before you left.” He replied. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” She asked.

While he could tell that she was upset, her tone wasn't accusatory. 

For a moment, he turned to look into her big brown eyes. “I was scared, Edith. I was sure that I’d lose her like all the others, so I tried to wait it out. It wasn't until yesterday that it hit me.” He paused, but Edith let him continue. 

“I couldn't bring myself to think that it was real until I started having contractions. I'm sorry, my love.” He said, turning away in shame. 

Edith thought for a moment. “I wish you would have told me so that I could be there for you, Iliad. Even if a pregnancy ends badly, you're still my husband. I love you and I want to see you healthy.” She replied. 

Iliad sniffled as a tear left his eye. “Thank you.” He said. 

In response, Edith turned his head so that he faced her and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “We made vows to each other, my dear. As long as they aren't broken, I’ll be here.” She said. 

“You should be more angry.” He said. 

“I'm upset, but I understand why you did what you did. We’ll just have to navigate this later.” She replied. 

Iliad nodded in agreement. “Okay.” He said softly. 

As soon as the conversation died and they started to marvel at the baby again, Iliad winced at a sudden, familiar pain. He had still been hurting since he had just given birth, but they were mostly dull aches. This was sharper. 

He groaned in annoyance. “Just one more thing.” He muttered. 

Noticing this, the doctor came back and began to look between his legs again. 

Edith smiled sympathetically. “And after this you can rest.” She said. 

“I'm never doing this again.” He said. 

“Alright sir, just one more big push when you need to and the hard work is over.” She said, pulling on her gloves. 

“Thank God.” He said, sitting up a bit. 

It didn't take long for another contraction to come and Iliad was ready for it. Immediately, he bore down, breathing through his efforts. He felt his cervix stretch once more, but when he let go, nothing had gotten past it. 

“It's alright. It might not be fully detached yet. Just push again when you're ready.” She said. 

Iliad sighed and waited again. This time, a sharper, more intense contraction took him by surprise. He jumped, sitting up fully when he felt a deep burn inside of him. 

“Oooh.” He groaned, wrenching his eyes shut. 

Calmly, Edith took the baby from him and turned to the doctor. 

“What's going on?” She asked. 

“I don't know. Hold on. This is going to be uncomfortable, but I'm going to have to feel what's happening up there, sir.” The doctor replied. 

Iliad's eyes opened so wide that they looked like they might fall out. 

“What?” 

“I know. I'm sorry, but I need to make sure that everything’s okay.” She replied. 

Iliad sighed in exasperation, but stopped as another contraction came over him.

“Umph!” He grunted. 

Edith took his hand. “It's gonna be okay, Iliad.” She said. 

“Okay.” He rasped. 

The doctor spread a generous amount of lube on her hands and some on his swollen opening. He squeezed Edith's hand and curled his toes to get through the stinging sensation. 

“I'm sorry, I’ll be as quick as I can.” She said as she inserted her hand. 

Iliad had had exams before, but feeling something enter his vagina so soon after giving birth made him see stars. He yelped and started to kick the doctor, trying to get her to stop. Quickly, Edith handed the baby off to a servant and helped another to gently hold his legs back. While he knew it was for everyone’s safety, it didn't frustrate him any less. 

The doctor’s arm stilled and while her expression remained neutral, she blinked rapidly. 

“What is it?” Edith asked. 

Gently, she pulled out her hand and changed her gloves. 

“That's not the placenta. It's another head.” She replied. 

The entire room went cold and silent. 

Despite the pain, Iliad released a trembling laugh. 

“You- you're joking. Right?” He said. 

She shook her head. “I'm not. You're having twins, your majesty.” She replied. 

Edith turned to him in surprise. “Did you-”

“Edith, I barely acknowledged one until yesterday. No, I didn't know there were TWO!” He shouted. 

Immediately after, his womb contracted painfully. He was starting to feel similarly to when his first was born. Edith backed down and turned to the doctor. 

“Dr. Ingram, the first baby took a lot out of him. Is there anything we can do to try to make it easier?” She asked. 

“He probably won't be able to move much, so we could move him to a tub of warm water to help.” She said. 

“Okay. Let's do that.” Edith replied intently.

“I’ll draw a bath.” Kallan said, running to the bathroom. 

Iliad rubbed his belly as another contraction ravaged him. “Can- can I see this ti- time?” He asked, rocking back and forth. 

Edith ran her fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Of course, darling.” She assured him. 

He wanted to respond, but his voice wouldn't come out, so he nodded instead, holding his belly as it pressed against him. 

While they waited for Kallan to prepare the bath, Iliad got on his hands and knees, spreading his legs again as he labored. He rocked his hips side to side as Edith rubbed his back. 

“It's okay. You’ve got this.” She said. 

“I just want it to be over.” He whimpered. 

“I know, baby. I know.” She said softly. 

Despite the pain he continued to push as they waited. He could already feel his pussy opening up again. The cool air on his lips did feel nice all things considered. He dropped his belly lower and arched his back, leaning back into his heavy hips. Colostrum dropped from his nipples as he moaned and groaned through the pain. 

Iliad listened to the sounds of the bed springs squeaking as he rocked back and forth, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. He let his face sink into his crossed arms and moaned into them as another contraction spread through him. 

This one hit harder than the previous ones. He whimpered as he angled his hips down and pushed again. After so long, his water broke again, this time in a safe, comfortable space where he was free to feel every sensation. Hardly any chatter, no one to impress, just himself, his family, and the staff supporting him. Feeling the sac finally pop was an incredible relief. He moaned as the contraction waned. He could feel the second baby's head pressing against his cervix now, lying in wait. 

Before long, Iliad was stripped naked and laying in the tub. The water was already becoming cloudy from the fluids coming out of him. He panted through the pain, gripping the side of the tub and his wife’s hand. With her other hand, she caressed his curls as his belly rose above and fell below the water with every breath, hitch, and contraction. 

He had delayed the birth of his first for so long that he just wanted to get the second over with as quickly as he could. The water soothed his joints and his red hot opening. He let himself close his eyes and relax as much as he could before the baby really started coming. 

“How are you feeling?” Edith asked. 

“It still hurts.” He sighed. “But I think I’m okay.” 

“It’ll be over soon, Iliad. You're doing great.” She said softly. 

On the other side of the tub, Doctor Ingram and her team waited patiently. One held a mirror so that he’d be able to see his child emerge when the time came. After some rest, Iliad carefully pulled himself into a lazy sitting position at the edge of the tub and lifted his knees out of the water. Edith squeezed his hand tighter and the team focused. 

When the next contraction came, he was ready. As soon as he felt it, he brought his chin down to his chest and bore down as much as he could. The baby rushed to his cervix and pressed against it hard. His breath trembled from the pain, but he pushed until the contraction waned. When he was done, the baby was still pressed against his cervix, so close to coming down. 

“You're crushing it.” Edith said softly. 

Iliad relaxed until the next contraction and got back into position. A few seconds after he started pushing, he felt a low pop within him and the baby quickly began to descend. He was beyond relieved that this seemed to be going by more quickly than the first birth. It wasn't long before he could see a teardrop shape forming between his swollen labia. He teared up at his second born. 

“There they are.” Edith whispered in awe. 

Iliad chuckled with bliss and dizziness, rubbing his belly and hoping that this one would be the last. 

The ring of fire burned worse than before with his vagina being raw, but he was too tired to scream in agony this time. All his energy was focused on getting the baby out. He panted through it as he reached down to feel his baby for the first time. 

“You're doing so good.” Edith said, squeezing his hand. 

To calm himself, Iliad gently stroked his baby's hair as the head came to its widest point and leveled out. The baby pulled back a bit when he stopped pushing in between contractions. He groaned in discomfort as the baby's head pressed against his most sensitive, ravaged areas. 

“It's going to be over soon, and then we'll have two beautiful children.” Edith encouraged him, kissing his sweaty forehead. 

“Mmm.” He hummed tiredly as he felt the next contraction coming. 

At first both shoulders pressed up against his opening, causing him to jump and yelp in pain. Doctor Ingram acted quickly and coaxed the right shoulder out first, giving Iliad some relief. After a moment to pant through the searing pain, he pushed again and the second shoulder emerged. At least, his baby was halfway out. Soon, he could meet them and rest. As soon as the next contraction came, he gave one last big push and heard the baby splash below him. 

Immediately, Edith reached into the water and placed the baby girl on his chest. She was a little smaller and lighter than her sister, but she also looked just like Edith. 

“I couldn't get one?” He joked raspily as he rubbed her back to encourage her to cry. 

Edith grinned. “I don't think your genes even tried.” She replied. 

As their baby started to cry and squirm, Iliad held her closer. They stayed in the water for a little longer before they were lifted out, cleaned up and placed in bed again. Once Doctor Ingram confirmed that the king was no longer pregnant, he finally relaxed and admired both of his baby girls. 

The oldest had deep red hair like her mother, honey brown eyes, and red tinted brown skin. She was ten pounds and two ounces. Her sister had bright red hair, green eyes, and gold tinted skin. She was slightly smaller at eight pounds and nine ounces. Edith and Iliad were in awe of both. 

“I can't believe I actually did that.” Iliad rasped. 

“Eighteen pounds combined is a lot.” Edith agreed. 

“It's your fault. You're too tall.” Iliad replied jokingly. 

Edith grinned mischievously. “You never cared when you wanted me to-”

Iliad cut her off with a joking “Shhh! Not in front of kids.” 

With sweet giggles, Edith conceded and held her husband and daughters close. Their subjects were sure to be surprised when they announced this. Imagine that, Princesses Osyth and Noctis of Reuben.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

A skinny twink with a belly so big that it looks unreal. He's on his hands and knees with his lower legs hanging over the bed, arching his back to open himself up. He's about to come to a full crown and is nearly stretched to the brim. His knees are spread so far apart that he's nearly laying down. His t-dick is big enough to touch the comforter on the bed, so he's grinding it on the sheets to soothe himself as the baby comes to its widest point. As he bellows through the birth, his partner sits in a chair, watching intently as he strokes himself off. He can't wait to do this again.

[lightsoutbabw]

Giving birth in a college dorm while nobody knows. Not your friends, not your family, not your roommate in the other room. Begging for it not to be real. The head slowly bulging into your jeans you never took off from this morning. Pushing on your stomach as if that would make it all go away.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

Because of his wildly high pain tolerance, he didn't realize that he was in labor until he was eight centimeters dilated and his water had broken. In the hospital, he's laying in bed holding full conversations and even laughing at jokes. Meanwhile, his legs are in the air and he's spread out at a full crown. He'll only stop chatting briefly to grunt the baby out a little further- usually because the doctor has to remind him to push- or to wince at the ring of fire. He's completely at ease and practically ignorant to the fact that his pussy is filled to the brim. Maybe he's just that in his element or he enjoys drawing it out. Either way, no one's going anywhere any time soon. If the staff gets lucky, maybe that fetal ejection reflex will kick in.

[writing-nico]

The Queen's Revenge

Part one - Race to Queendom here: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-nico/747127885975928832/race-to-queendom?source=share

18+ fiction, no minors allowed.

Contains: Spells, fantasy setting, fantasy species, manipulative partner, mpreg, cis mpreg, transformation, forced pregnancy, magical pregnancy, unknown pregnancy, graphic descriptions of birth, birth complications, multiple births, difficult birth, birth denial, fetal macrosomia, half giant, fae, pushingbabybackin, clothing birth, vaginal birth, slight watersports if you squint, filming, about 7.6k words}

{After the competition to birth the king’s babies, Leonna waits two years to get Micah back. Since 4 babies came from the concubines, 4 babies will come from him.}

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There were plenty of spells that could make a man pregnant. Some could cast human babies, orcs, dragonettes, or even more. Despite the array she found, none of them had quite what she was looking for. Behind the king's back, Queen Leonna bided her time, researching in the library, consulting with magicians, experimenting with fusing spells, and raising her children. 

Finally, she created what she was looking for. 

The dining hall shimmered with riches and smelled of a feast, but Leonna’s eyes were completely focused on Micah. 

“My king?” She asked.

Immediately, King Micah looked up from the giant turkey leg that he was devouring, his eyes ravenous. 

“Yes, dear?” He asked. 

“May I sleep in your chambers tonight? I have missed you.” She said, making doe eyes at him. 

Micah smiled with turkey in between his teeth. “Of course! I would love to host you.” He replied obliviously. 

Inside, Leonna beamed with pride, knowing that the first step to her plan was complete. Micah was so self centered that all she had to do was put on a little show. He was none the wiser that even after two years, she still resented him. 

That night, she followed him to his chambers, laughing at everything he said and clinging to his arm. As he started to fall asleep, she whispered her curse in fae and stupidly, he smiled, thinking that he had her heart.  

~~~

Micah pressed his palms against the small of his back and stretched. Leonna had said that his giant belly was the mark of a rich, well fed king, but he was just too big. He tried to lose the weight once he started to waddle, but no matter what he did, it wouldn't budge. 

Angry red and purple stretch marks dug into his skin over his tight belly and hips, which had spread so wide that he could barely walk. He could barely breathe with his beast of an abdomen stretching up to his ribs. He was so large that he looked as if he were pregnant with octuplets, which was a feat in itself for a half giant, but that couldn't be possible. He was a man. 

Right?

He shook his head, refusing to entertain that thought for more than a second. Of course he was a man! A bunch of stubborn fat couldn't change that. Slowly, he pulled himself out of his bed and looked in the mirror.

He was completely naked. Over time, his chest had begun to swell. Now, his nipples were hardened and long, his areolas were dark and wide, and he now had breasts that hung over either side of his belly. Being 9 foot 11, he was one of the biggest things around other than the Giants, but he had never been this big. 

Leonna however seemed to love it. He caught her constantly eyeing him with a blissful expression. She would massage his belly and breasts and rub his dick for him now that he could no longer see it. He had never known his queen to be this affectionate with him, so he was rightfully confused. 

What has he done to earn this? Did she just like bigger men?

He pulled his belly up momentarily, looking at his penis in the mirror. Maybe it was just him, but it seemed to be shrinking. Normally, he was a strong and proud eleven inches, but now, he seemed to only be six. There was no way that this was a coincidence. 

He dropped his belly, immediately feeling the weight settle back into his wide hips. It was the most uncomfortable sensation that he had ever experienced. He sighed in malaise, struggling to breathe. All of a sudden, his belly cramped, forcing itself back into his body and knocking the breath out of him. He gasped, falling to his knees holding his wide load. 

As soon as he hit the ground, he felt something hot spurt from his cock and soak into his tight robes.

‘Did I just piss myself?’ He thought.

As he tried to collect himself, he felt something press on his bladder. Quickly, he grabbed his dick through his robes, trying not to soak himself further.

“Hooh!” He shuddered.

He rocked back and forth on his knees, trying to hold it in long enough that the pinpricks of need would rest and he could run to the bathroom before it was too late. He pressed his other hand against the small of his back, trying to relieve himself of his belly's weight. 

As he rocked he felt another twinge from deep inside of him, squeezing his belly into his lungs. He exhaled sharply, putting more pressure on his aching bladder. He could feel the urine approaching his twitching tip.

He hissed in discomfort, trying to hold himself together. Pressing his hand harder on his dick, he shut his eyes and shouted. 

“Someone help me!”

The buildup of piss trying to escape his hole caused his eyes to water. The near constant pressure on his belly didn't help. 

“Help me, please!” He cried. 

He couldn't move, and every time he shouted, he felt his bladder squeeze under the pressure. Someone had to be looking for him. Surely his queen wanted to love on him. There had to be someone out there listening. Why wasn't anyone coming?

Finally, he heard footsteps approach the door and his queen burst into the room. At first he was relieved to see her face, maybe she could help him to the bathroom, but then he noticed something off; she wasn't panicked, she didn't even seem worried. Her face was blank until she laid eyes upon his soaked robes, then she frowned with contempt.  

“What did you do?” She asked. 

Micah's heart dropped. “What?”

“It's too early, the spell isn't finished.” She said, more to herself as she ignored his question.

“My queen?”

Leonna rolled her eyes. “Someone get a bedpan.”

Quickly, footsteps departed and then approached again. The queen took the bedpan from the servant's hands and took her time walking towards him. Every second that passed, Micah felt as if he were going to burst. 

He whimpered as she placed the bedpan at his knees.

“I can't move, dear.” He said.

“Great.” Leonna groaned.

Before he could even think, Leonna ripped his robes upwards and placed his bright red cock over the bedpan. Finally, Micah could relieve himself. He sunk into his hips as he pissed, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

“Thank you, love.” He groaned, almost aroused by solace. 

Instead of answering, Leonna just looked down on him. As the last spurts of piss escaped his aching cock, she reached for his belly. 

He tensed in surprise when she touched it, causing another ripple of pain to course through him. 

“I knew it. You're contracting!” Leonna observed. 

Micah frowned through the pain. “What?” He groaned. 

“It's too early for you to give birth, the spell hasn't even taken full effect. Damned multiples.” She continued. 

“Give birth? What are you talking about?”

Leonna didn't answer, keeping her hand on his belly, she chanted, releasing her magic inside of him. 

“Leonna.”

Leonna didn't look up, and kept chanting. 

“Answer your king!” He shouted. 

Leonna curled her lip. “My king? You don't look like a king right now.” She replied.

Micah was taken aback. “You told me that I looked more kingly than ever…” He said quietly.

“To keep you from being suspicious, though I hardly needed to do that. You're so dimwitted, you can't even tell when someone has cast a spell on you.” She said. 

“A spell?” Micah asked. “What spell?”

“One of my own creation, but I suppose that I didn't account for the strain the multiples would cause. Your water broke right at the seventh month mark. To think you still have five more months to go… You are much bigger than even Sol was.” Leonna continued, grinning at his pressing burden. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Leonna?” Micah demanded.

Leonna grinned wider. “There's the man I know. The tyrant who made his concubines compete in childbirth for his own gratification. I told you that you would repay me. I'm disappointed that you forgot. Did you think that I was playing with you?” She ranted. 

“So-” Micah reached down and touched his giant belly. “-I’m pregnant?” He asked.

“And in active labor, though, you wouldn't be able to give birth through your penis, so that will have to be fixed over the next few months. I would give you a quicker spell, but-”

She grinned and leaned closer to his face. “-I like seeing you suffer.”

“You rotten woman!” Micah growled. “I should have you beheaded!”

Leonna raised her eyebrow. “Would having to go to war with my kingdom be worth it though?” She questioned, tilting her head. 

Micah's breath caught in his throat. He had almost forgotten about that. The whole reason for their marriage was to ally, if he had her executed, the Fae and maybe even some humans would revolt. 

Quickly, he softened his face and smiled. “Leonna, my dear. I’ve learned my lesson. I will never even think of such things again, you have my word. Please take this spell off of me and we can get back to our life together.” He said sweetly. 

Leonna shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

“Please. I'm begging you! I can't give birth. I'm scared. These babies will be huge! I don't think I can do it!” He cried. 

The queen shrugged. “Well, look on the bright side. At least you’ll have more heirs. If you survive of course.” 

~~~

Micah lay in his bed, clutching his ever growing bump, though at this point it was more like a mountain. It shot up towards the sky when he stumbled onto his back by accident. He had thought that the babies were low in his hips five months ago, but now, they constantly pressed against his opening. 

Now, his dick was completely gone, replaced by a fat pussy that constantly wept birthing fluids. How had he ended up in this predicament? He was a king! How could he have been so blind. 

The pain was overwhelmingly miserable. He writhed in bed constantly, unable to walk due to how heavy he was. Though, that would likely provide him no relief. With Leonna’s spell, there would only be pressure as he was forced to endure mind numbing contractions without the release of birth. A barrier had been placed just under his womb, pressing up against his first baby's head. 

He was more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea what to do, or who to trust. Occasionally, Leonna would come to see him and feel his contracting belly. Clearly, she got a rise out of it. Micah felt small and weak under her touch, completely unable to defend himself. 

Fireworks sounded off every second in the dark night. Cheers were heard around the castle. As the festival continued, Micah could only lay on his side and pant through the pain. 

It was New Year's Eve. The five months had finally passed. Soon, he would be able to birth these monsters that his queen had infected him with. 

He rubbed his aching burden as another contraction ripped him apart, worse than ever. He tried to scream, but his breath caught in his throat. He gripped his taut skin, leaving welts where his nails scratched the thin area. 

After what felt like forever, it passed and Micah gasped desperately for air. Suddenly, he caught sight of a person through teary eyes. 

“Leo-Leonna.” He grunted. 

Leonna smiled. “Hello, love.” She replied. 

“Please! I can no longer take this pain. I must give birth!” Micah begged. 

“But it's only nine o’clock. It's still too early. We haven't even started the ceremony.” She said. 

“Ce-cer-ceremo-mony?” Micah struggled to ask. 

“Yes. Before the birth is broadcasted, you will have to take a lap around the town. Simple enough, right?” Leonna explained.

“Broadcasted?” He wanted to ask why, but he knew exactly what she was going to say. It was all payback for how he chose his queen. 

Leonna smiled. “Now let's get you dressed. You cannot greet your kingdom naked.” 

Micah had no words and only watched as his queen chanted a spell that released him from the barrier that forced his babies to stay within him.

Immediately, he curled on his side and started to push, but the baby didn't budge, completely stopping up his cervix. Taking a shallow breath, he gripped his ankle and tried to push again.

Tears welled in his tightly shut eyes and his head spun. His body shook as he tried to push, but the baby didn't move an inch. 

Leonna stared down at his plight. “Don't push too hard, these babies are twice the size of the ones that we birthed. It’ll take a lot of patience to get them out.” She explained.

Micah gasped. “You bitch!” He spat. 

Leonna shrugged. “It's your fault. You thought that my words were a jest.” She said

Two guards lifted Micah up by each arm. His belly splayed over his knees and his engorged breasts rested on his heavy load. He struggled to stand, his legs shaking as he waddled and swayed. 

“Oohhh.” He sighed as another contraction ripped through his body, pressing his belly up against him. On instinct he spread his legs and squatted, opening his fat, wet pussy to try to push out his babies.

He felt his cervix stretch and push outwards with the baby's head, but as soon as he ran out of strength, the baby stopped coming down. He gasped, spluttered, and panted trying to catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. 

Servants surrounded him and grabbed his ceremonial robes. A pair of high waisted panties that just barely spanned the underside of his belly were placed on him. His pussy felt suffocated with just that thin piece of cloth over it. He knew that the rest would be unbearable, but he had no choice. If he wanted to birth these babies, he had to follow the queen’s plan. 

~~~

Micah tried to keep a straight face as his citizens greeted and bowed to him, but he couldn't hold back the pain. He was constantly hunching over to push, crying out, and gasping for air. 

He had never felt so helpless or ashamed in his life. He was supposed to be the pillar of strength and now, he was reduced to this puffy, crying mess. 

“We’re almost to Town square, dear. We're halfway through our little stroll.” Leonna announced. 

“fu-fuc-fuck you.” Micah shuddered. 

Leonna smirked. “You already had your chance.”

After ten minutes, they finally reached town square. Micah leaned heavily onto his guards that walked with him, trying to stay upright. Leonna watched with pleasure as he struggled, walking just ahead of them. 

Micah’s hips felt as if they were going to rip apart. Despite being 9 foot 11 and wide, it seemed that he couldn't get wide enough. The baby pressed into his cervix with the help of gravity. As Leonna walked ahead, Micah’s legs slowly gave out. The guards let him collapse.

Leonna heard him drop and turned to see him down on one knee, shaking in place. 

“Leonna. I'm sorry.” He whimpered. 

Leonna started to answer with a typical quip, but before she could, a rush of fluids spilled from his pussy and at long last, the head was just behind his aching lips. 

“Fuck!” He shouted. 

Townspeople turned towards commotion, gasping and exclaiming as they watched their king being brought to his knees. 

His soaked clit rubbed his panties, causing unbearable sensitivity. Micah gasped and pushed again, feeling his baby stretch his brand new pussy. The baby lodged itself into his lips and it burned like one thousand suns. 

Micah tried to scream, but all that came out was a whimper as he came to a full crown in his robes and panties. His hands pushed down on his massive burden as he tried to give birth. The guards held tightly to him, looking towards their queen. 

Slowly, Leonna stepped forward and knelt down in front of him. She lifted his robes and reached for his vagina, cupping her hand under their baby's head.

“Here, let me help you.” She whispered.

“No I need to-”

Instantly, he was cut off by searing pain. Fighting against Micah's body, Leonna pushed the baby's head upwards and back into his gaping hole.

Micah’s eyes rolled back into his head and his vision was splotched with blackening pain. His horrible screams felt disembodied. He had no idea that a humanoid could make such an awful sound.

“Do not worry, my subjects. It was only a false alarm. Our king is experiencing a very intense labor.” She explained. 

With the baby's head just past Micah's cervix, Leonna was satisfied. She wiped her hand on her gown and stood over him. 

“Come on. We still have to walk to the other side of town and back.”

~~~

The king was barely conscious when they reached the throne room. He wanted nothing more than to beg his queen to let him lie down and finally give birth, but after she shoved their baby back inside of him multiple times, he knew it wasn't worth it. He stayed silent as the guards sat him upon his throne, still fully clothed. 

“You're tougher than I thought, Micah. Well done.” Leonna praised him. 

The fireworks were louder and more frequent than ever, but so were his contractions. His body was about ready to shoot these babies out like cannon balls and it was all that he could focus on. 

As Leonna set up the cameras to catch the birth from every angle, Micah slid his pussy off of the throne, readying himself to finally give birth. 

With a smile of pride, Leonna took her seat in her throne, next to him. She laid her hand on his belly. Micah jumped and a gush of amniotic fluids spilled from his tense womb, but he could do nothing more than push. 

“You're doing great.” Leonna whispered, rubbing circles over his robes. 

Micah was burning up in his ceremonial garb, but he didn't care at this point. He couldn't get it off anyway. Without hesitation in front of the cameras, Micah spread his legs, took the deepest breath that he could manage, and pushed. 

He could feel his child’s head rolling down his birth canal, stretching out his hole once more. He gripped the arm rests of his throne so much so that the gold dug into his tender, swollen fingers. 

He gritted his teeth so intensely that he felt as if the tiny bones would snap from the pressure, same as his lower body. Sitting on his tailbone, he bore down, his knees as far apart as he could get them in his robes. Still, it wasn't wide enough. He felt so if his hips would rip apart, but he couldn't move much in the uncomfortable gear. 

Leonna kept rubbing circles in his belly, but through the pain, he couldn't tell her to stop. At the same time, it felt good as he was riven from the inside. 

“That's it darling. You're doing great.” Leonna whispered with a sinister grin across her cherub cheeks. 

Finally, Micah felt the baby's head approach his lips for what felt like the fiftieth time this night. His pussy stretched to accommodate the head and though he had felt this pain so many times, it was never better.

His fat pussy lips were dragged out by the baby's head before it even reached them. He shook from the burning down below and wrenched his eyes shut, screaming and crying all the while. 

As the baby rolled lower inside of him, his pussy lips became a wide ring that touched his panties, reminding him that they were there. 

Micah's eyes shot open in fear. How was he supposed to get this damn thing out with a pair of panties in the way? He looked to his guards, then he looked to Leonna with watery eyes. All parties looked at him indifferently, waiting to see what would happen.

The king’s heart dropped. Had he really been so cruel two years ago? Did he really dese-

As he tried to think, another contraction burst through his belly, causing him to arch his back off of the throne. A gush of fluids rushed from him and the baby's head pressed against his inner labia, finally coming to a crown in his panties. 

Thick, slimy mucus squeezed painfully past the baby's head as he pushed. With tears filling his eyes, he looked up towards the ceiling, as if to beg the heavens for mercy. The thought briefly crossed his mind to ask Leonna, but he knew that his pleas would fall on deaf ears. Only the God's could help him now. 

He hoped. 

Gripping the handles of his throne, he pushed himself off of the seat, trembling in pain. His enormous belly tried to flatten itself against him, but the mass of the other babies filled it. It only pressed the head of his first child further, finally bursting from his pussy with a loud squelch. 

Shakily, Micah held himself up by the handles of his throne, wincing in pain as the head hung from him, filling his panties. The muscles in his legs tremored below him as he tried to keep himself upright. 

Leonna kept a steady hand on his belly, feeling every contraction and quake. She smirked smugly, watching him squirm. By now, Micah wasn't focused on anything other than freeing himself from this curse. All of the fireworks, guards, lights, and touches had gone from his world, other than the panties that trapped his baby's head. 

As he trembled, he gritted his teeth, gripped the handles of his throne until his fingers bruised and pushed once more. Without a sound, he felt the baby drop into his panties, dragging them to his knees. Muffled cries sounded from the cloth as Micah plonked onto his knees.

The guards and Leonna stood by silently as he dug through his robes and searched for his child. Quickly, he pulled off his outer robe and ripped his tunic in half, exposing his naked body on live television. 

At that point, he didn't care, he just needed to get to the baby. He wasn't sure where the sudden urgency for the child was coming from, but he needed to know that they were okay. 

Finally, he reached into his panties, and pulled out a blonde baby boy with light brown skin. The child whimpered in his arms, but seemed unharmed. The boy yawned and opened his eyes, squinting because of the new light. Though Micah was petrified, he found himself lost in his baby's little green eyes. 

“Oh..” His voice tremored. 

The boy was the average size for a half giant. He almost couldn't believe that his body had released such a thing. While he was huge, he was so small at the same time. Barely conscious as the world was thrust upon him. 

Then, three guards approached. Micah glared at them as they interrupted the moment between him and his little boy, but they didn't seem to care. They only got closer. Tentatively, he brought the baby to his breast and stared back at the guards. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

The guards didn't answer, instead the one in the middle knelt down while the other two disarmed him. Micah’s heart raced in panic. 

“What are you doing!” He demanded to know as the guard took his baby. Too weak to fight back, Micah could only struggle against the hold of his own traitorous guards. 

“My baby! Give me back my baby!” He cried. 

Leonna rolled her eyes. “Be still, my king. They are only making sure that he is healthy. They will return him to nurse shortly.” She said as-a-matter-of-factly. 

Micah whipped his head towards her and growled deeply. Leonna just seemed unimpressed. 

“It's only standard procedure.”

~~~

To Micah's surprise, Leonna kept her word. Just a few minutes later, a guard returned with the baby boy, who squinted under the chandeliers. 

“He is healthy, my queen. 24 pounds and 8 ounces.” He said, cradling the child coldly. 

Leonna beamed with pride. “How wonderful. He will grow up to be a strapping man-” She turned to her king, her smile darkening. “-don't you think so, dear?” 

Micah avoided her gaze, covering himself up with his outer robe. His second baby rested surprisingly lightly on his cervix and the sac had not yet broken. Meanwhile, the placenta from his son was slowly exiting his opening.  

Leonna looked back at the guard. “Give him the boy.” She said. 

The guard nodded and walked over to Micah, his armored boots becoming covered in birthing fluids. As his body finally released the placenta, he was handed his baby boy. Micah cradled his head, as he had seen the guard do, his arms shaking. The room was silent and cold, as he and the baby looked into each other's eyes. Tears rolled down Micah's cheeks as he studied his son’s features. 

His thin, sandy blonde curls had been cleaned, his bright green eyes squinted, his puffy eyelids straining. His skin was light brown and rosey, and he had a big red birthmark spanning the left side of his top lip to the side of his nostril. The baby stirred in his arms, but seemed otherwise calm. Carefully, Micah took him to his breast and after a couple of mishaps, the boy finally latched. 

“He’s beautiful.” Leonna said, watching the two of them. 

Micah kept his eyes on the child as he suckled loudly. 

“What do you want to call him?” She asked. 

“Elias.” Micah replied, barely speaking above a whisper.  

“That's a nice name.” Leonna said. 

Micah sniffed. “Why did you wait so long to exact your revenge?” He asked. 

Leonna crossed her legs. “I couldn't have you being wary of me. Otherwise it never would have worked.” She answered. “Plus, I had to do a lot of research.”

Micah bit his lower lip. “I never forgot your words.” He said, starting to choke on his. “I simply underestimated them.”

“And that's your biggest mistake. You were expecting a petty act when I'm much more capable than that.” She said. 

Micah sighed deeply as he felt another cramp building up. “I’ll never misjudge you again. I can promise you that.” He said coldly. 

“Good.” Leonna said. 

Soon after, baby Elias unlatched and started to snore. Maybe Micah would have expected such a sound if he had been present for his first round of children. Right now, he wasn't entirely sure. 

He rubbed his belly, feeling a cramp from inside and out. It was less intense than he had been used to over the last five months, maybe it was because of the cushioning of the amniotic sac. 

“Hooh…” He whispered, handing his baby boy to a guard with shaking arms. He hadn't wanted to let go of him, but he didn't feel that he could labor safely with him in his possession. 

He crouched on his hands and knees, readying himself for another baby to exit him. The sac slowly poked it's way into his birth canal

He could feel each set of eyes watching him. Not the least bit anxious, but curious, as if this was entertainment for them. Wrenching his eyes shut, Micah sucked in a breath and began to bear down. 

Immediately, he felt a sharp pain in his womb. He stopped with a short gasp and reached up to touch his belly, which touched the floor below him. 

Briskly, he rubbed his roundness, trying to smooth out the issue. He hadn't even noticed that he still had tears in his eyes until a hot stream of water rolled down his cheek. 

“Hooh…” He tremored, pulling his knees apart. He was starting to sink into his belly, and though it added an uncomfortable amount of pressure, he could barely hold himself up through the pain. Shortly after, he felt something slimy and hard slip past his cervix, falling lower into his birth canal. 

He groaned in pain. This baby felt wider than the last one, the sac probably didn't help. Rubbing his belly to soothe himself, he gritted his teeth and pushed again. Despite the diameter of the baby, he felt a little more open than he had with the first. Maybe his son had stretched him out.

Behind him, his swollen pussy began to bloom, much to Leonna's delight. He heard gasps of excitement escape her lungs. Maybe if this had been his choice, he would have been excited as well. Slowly, he shook his head and took a deep breath. He couldn't think about that right now. At the moment, he had to focus on giving birth; after this, he still would have two more babies to go. 

Rubbing his belly for support, Micah bore down, pushing his knees into the cold, hard floor, likely bruising them. The pain of giving birth was worse than a couple of bruises. This baby barely budged with each push, slowly slipping inside of him and the amniotic sac still hadn't broken. 

Micah took in another shaky breath and pushed till his face turned purple. Finally, he heard a low pop, but there was still no fluid. He let go of the breath and felt his head swim. The baby was just behind his lips, still in the sac.

He rubbed circles over his belly, trying to gather the strength to push again. Before he could even think about it, another contraction rammed into him, greater than any that he had felt with this baby. His back arched upwards in surprise and pain as he felt the baby fall into his worn vagina. 

“Oh wow.” Leonna gasped.

Micah’s eyes sprung open. Leonna sounded astonished, not excited. What was happening?

With his hand still on his aching orb of a belly, Micah looked up at the guards, who stared blankly ahead. He then looked behind him to see Leonna's eyes wide in surprise. 

“What's going on? What's wrong with my baby?” Micah cried in a shrill voice. 

“She’s breech.” Leonna replied. 

Micah’s pussy stretched down over the baby like a pipe as he angled his hips downwards, trying to push her out. He curled his fingers, gritted his teeth and pushed as hard as he could. Still in the sac, he could feel the baby slipping out of him. Her heels dug into his birth canal. 

“Guh!” He cried, letting go of the effort. 

Carefully, he reached under his belly and found his hand on the baby's stomach. Touching what he was sure was her chest, he felt for a pulse, and found her heart beating away. He sighed in relief. That had to be a good sign, right? 

As he took his hand from her, preparing to push again, he started to hear whispers from the guards. Quickly, he whipped his head around towards Leonna who frowned. 

“What now?” He grunted, feeling another contraction starting to ram up. 

“There's meconium in the sac, dear. If you want her to live, you're going to have to break it.” She said simply.

Micah’s breath hitched. He started to reach for his baby again, just as her legs dropped out of him. Leaving only her head inside. Gently, Micah made quick work of the amniotic sac, and felt no relief as it rushed open. Energetically the baby kicked her legs upwards, scratching his pussy with her tiny toenails. 

Micah winced and with closed eyes, repositioned himself with his right elbow on the floor and his left arm holding up his body. He pushed once more and felt an awful amount of pressure release from him as half of the baby's head slipped out of him. 

“Hughh…” He groaned, shuddering as he pushed again. His second baby popped out of his battered opening and fell into his ripped tunic. Silent. 

Micah gasped for air and turned around. The child was in his arms before he could even blink. On instinct, he turned her over and popped her on the back. When he got no reaction, he did it again, and she spit up fluids, finally allowing her to take in a deep gasp and cry. 

“Oh Gods!” Micah cried.

He turned her over again, coming face to face with a bald headed, brown skinned baby girl. Her eyes were wrenched shut as she screamed away.

He held her close, crying with her as the guards approached him. Angrily, he glared up at them, but didn't resist. 

“You're going to take them from me every time?” He grunted.

Silently, the guards took the baby girl and Micah was left sitting alone again. 

~~~

The baby girl, whom he called Elodie, was 26 pounds and 12 ounces, just slightly larger than her elder brother. She nursed hungrily, grabbing at Micah's breast, trying to pull it in further. He looked down at the girl tiredly, paying no mind to her antics, but looking into her beautiful hazel eyes.

“She will be the fairest in the land.” Leonna said proudly. 

Micah cleared his throat and shifted his weight away from his swollen nethers. As the placenta started to come down, he felt his temperature rise and his heart race. He felt somewhat… annoyed. Was another contraction coming? 

“Are you happy with this outcome?” He asked. 

“Delighted. You make a good parent, Micah even with your shortcomings as a king.” She said.

Micah rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Leonna. Let me have peace before my next child tears me apart.” He said. 

Leonna shrugged. “If you insist.” She replied with condescension.

Micah scoffed, but said nothing else as his daughter finished nursing. As he held her, he felt pressure increase in his hips. 

“Ugh.” He groaned, handing the baby to another guard. Both babies were now in the room, being held by someone other than him. It brought pain to his pounding heart. Still, he gritted his teeth and began to push.

As soon as he did, he could feel the blood rush away from his head. His eyes swirled in his sockets and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He slammed his hands onto the cold floor to brace himself, but his elbows and wrists soon gave out. Micah collapsed onto them dizzily, laying on his side. 

Leonna was silent, watching the screen focused on his nethers. The baby hadn't come yet.

“Micah?” She said. 

Micah took a shaky breath in. His belly rose and then quickly fell as he whined in pain. Leonna looked up with genuine fear in her eyes.

“Guards!” She shouted. 

Instantly, the unoccupied guards rushed to his side. Through his stupor, Micah could feel the grip of the blood pressure cuff on his upper arm. 

“70 over 40.” He heard a guard say. 

To be honest, Micah didn't really know what that meant, but from the way it was announced, it didn't sound good. His heartbeat pounded slowly in his ears, blocking most sound, his head swirled and from his hips below, he felt largely numb. Still, he could feel the pressure between them. 

“Micah? Micah!” The queen called out to him. She shook his shoulders and he took a deep, raspy breath in. 

“Micah, can you hear me? The baby's coming. I think the last placenta may have caused a greater wound than expected.” She said. 

“Baby?” He garbled, breathing heavily. 

“Yes. The baby.”

“Are they…” He swallowed thickly. “..okay? What's happening?”

Trembling, he brought his arms back under him, trying to sit up. Quickly, Leonna rested her hand in between his shoulder blades. 

“No, no. Stay where you are.” She said. 

“My baby?...” He croaked. 

“The baby's head is crowning. I just need you to push a little bit more.” She said. 

“I'm cold.” He shuddered. 

“I know, but the baby needs to come out so that I can heal you a bit. All of the births are taking a toll on your body.” She replied, rubbing his back. 

Her hand felt warm against his shaking body. He swallowed, feeling his world darkening. He started to reach down with the hand that wasn't pinned under him. Seeing this, Leonna took it in hers and guided it down to the head of their baby. 

Micah’s eyes shot open in shock. His baby was covered in something thick and sort of oily. The shock brought back his senses, and while he didn't look down, he could smell iron in the air. 

“Leonna…” He said. 

“Just focus on the baby. Can you push for me?” She asked. 

Weakly, Micah nodded.

“Yeah?” Leonna rasped. 

Micah took in a deep breath and bore down. Leonna made a quick motion and a guard lifted his right leg up, making more room for their half-born baby. 

His head was cold, and he could feel blood rushing out of him. Despite that, he wrenched his eyes shut and pushed again. He felt the baby's arms flip out of his body and he birthed her up to her hips. 

“Just one more push, my king. Just one more.” Leonna encouraged him, squeezing his bloody hand in hers and rubbing his back. 

For some reason, Micah felt validated in his suffering. Maybe because the person who caused it had tears falling onto his shoulder. 

With the last of his strength, he bore down once more and finally, he felt the largest baby ever slip out of him. He barely heard her cries before he vomited and everything faded away. 

As Leonna rushed to heal him, she caught a glimpse of her baby girl’s hands. Each contained a fistful of uterine lining. The horrid sight almost toppled her over. Especially as the guards told her that baby Amara was a whopping 30 pounds and 4 ounces. 

~~~

Leonna sat at his bedside, bouncing her right leg anxiously. He was less pale and the warm tinge to his skin had returned, but despite her efforts, he still hadn't woken up yet. It had only been two hours, and he was showing good signs, but could something else be wrong? Should she be worried that his labor wasn't progressing with the fourth baby?

Why did she care anyway? This was the man that pressed down on her belly to save his progeny. The pain had been blinding. But, he was the reason that she had her oldest son and daughter, alive and well. When she couldn't push, he did it for her. Even though, the only reason he did it was probably so that he could have a queen and more heirs. 

Frustrated and confused, she rushed to the door and pushed it open, running into the garden outside of his chambers. Once she got to the gazebo in the center, she collapsed onto her knees and started to cry. 

She had gotten her revenge, he had suffered, so why didn't she feel any better? When she had first met him, he was a complete pig, commenting about her and the other concubine’s looks, constantly asking for sexual favors, drinking, lying. Everything about him was just wrong. 

But, despite that, he looked at her with love in his eyes, thinking that he had her heart, while she had his soul. He had trusted her, and underestimated her, but she still did this to him. 

“Leonna?”

Leonna turned to see Sol and Ayesha standing behind her, each with sad expressions. 

“Is-”

“He's fine. We just came to see you.” Sol said. 

“I just came here to support him.” Ayesha said, tilting her head towards Sol. 

Leonna rolled her eyes at her human cousin, and started to wipe her tears. 

“Are you alright?” Sol asked. 

“No. I think that I made a mistake.” Leonna said. 

“Meh, I would've done the same thing if I had powerful magic like yours.” Ayesha replied. 

“But I didn't account for all of the strain a natural birth would put on him, even if he's strong and it was caused by magic. I just wanted him to understand how I felt, not die!” She cried. 

Sol knelt beside her. “I get that. What he did was pretty fucked up, but I think you’ve come to care for him watching him carry your babies all this time. Things change. Maybe this is a lesson not to take vengeance and communicate your feelings properly.” He said. 

“Would he have listened if I did?” She asked. 

“Probably not, but it's better than taking out the father of our children. He's a good dad, even if he is a freak. I think we’d all miss him in some way or another.” Ayesha replied. 

“Hey, but he’s not dead. I'm sure he'll get better. It's only been two hours.” Sol said. 

Leonna nodded and wiped away more tears. “I’ll talk to him when I can. Maybe, if he doesn't want to banish me as soon as he gets better, we can fix this.” She agreed. 

“I mean, you can try, but who knows how angry he’ll be.” Ayesha said. 

Sol immediately glared at her with his sunny eyes. 

“I'm just saying. You're gonna really have to explain yourself.” Ayesha added. 

“I think he already knows, but it might be better if he hears it from you in a less sadistic manner.” Sol said. 

“Yes. Hopefully.” She said. 

“Your Majesty!”

The group turned to see a guard running out of the castle towards them, his helmet under his arm.

“The king wishes to see you.” She said. 

~~~

Leonna could hear his groans and cries of pain as soon as she entered the castle. Quick on her feet, she hopped up the stairs to his chambers, bursting through the unlocked doors. Micah was seated in bed with pillows behind his back and a cold compress on his forehead. Tears streamed down his face as his deflated belly squeezed itself against him. 

“Micah!” Leonna shouted. 

Micah said nothing, instead, he roared through another contraction that had come in rapid succession.

Instantly, Leonna ran to him and collapsed at his bedside. “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted you to feel what I felt!” She cried. 

Micah gritted his teeth, but turned to look at her with red eyes. 

“I can't do this.” He whispered. 

Leonna widened her eyes, stunned. 

“I can't do this anymore! I'm so tired. PLEASE get it out of me!” He cried.

Just as the words left his mouth, another contraction screamed through his abdomen and he cried with it, his voice cracking and shaking. As his body pushed for him, Leonna heard the unmistakable squelch of the baby's head coming down and water exiting her king’s body. 

Quickly, she took his hand and reached down, putting both of their palms across the child’s dome. 

“This is it. This is the last one! Our child. You have been so strong through this whole process. You can do this one more time.” Leonna said, forcing his hand against the head. 

Micah shook his head. “I can't. It hurts so baaHAAAD!”

The baby's head slipped further down, coming a fourth of the way through his lips. 

“You can and you will. Your body's already doing it. You just need to engage. It’ll all be over soon, I promise.” She said.

Micah sniffled and turned to her with his watery eyes. “You promise?”

Leonna nodded affirmatively. “I'm sure if it. Do what your body tells you and you won't have to suffer anymore.”

Hesitantly, Micah nodded and rubbed the baby's head.

“Oh Gods.” He trembled, another cramp ramping up inside of him. 

Leonna was stuck in his bone breaking grip as he held tightly to her to find the strength to give birth one last time. Soon after the first push, the baby's head popped out of him.

“That's it. They're almost here. Keep going!” Leonna cheered. 

Micah folded his lips into his mouth and groaned through his nose, gripping the blanket that he had tossed to the side. With rushes of fluid, each shoulder ripped its way through, the force turned the baby and they hung out to their hips. 

“I need to move.” Micah grunted. 

“Now?” Leonna questioned. 

“NOW.” Micah emphasized. 

“Okay okay. Te-”

Without an answer, Micah let go of her hand and pressed his other hand against the baby. With his wet hand, he pressed down on her shoulder and rolled onto his hip, carefully keeping his legs open for the baby. With that, he got on his knees, still holding the child in one hand. With the other, he used Leonna as support. 

On instinct, Leonna pressed one hand against the small of his back, and the other against his flushed cheek.

“Just one more big push, love. One more.” She urged him. 

Micah inhaled sharply through his nose and brought his hips towards her. The baby's hips in his. He pressed his cheek into her hand, gritted his teeth and pushed again. His stomach flattened against his body, his breasts leaked desperately and finally, their last baby girl, Ophelia, fell onto the bed, and started to cry. She was their smallest baby, weighing 22 pounds and 8 ounces.

[notnicodrawingstuff]

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

[writing-nico]

Engineered

18+ fiction, no minors allowed

Based of this from my side

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

Really big, metal babies. 

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

“Hey, Darryl!” He exclaimed.

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

“Raphi! Good to see ya!” He replied.

“What's up?” Raphael asked. 

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

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

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

Raphael threw his head back and laughed. 

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

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

“She's seven, right?” Raphael asked. 

“Yeah.”

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

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

Raphael nodded and waved. “See ya Darryl!”

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

No matter. He had a building to oversee.

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

“Hey…”

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

“Hey, pops!”

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

“You okay?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Cortez!” Trevor shouted. 

“Raphi!” Darryl called after him. 

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

~~~

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

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

“Fuck…” He grunted under his breath. 

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

But pushing out what?

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

“Shit!” He hissed. 

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

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

~~~

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

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

“Fu-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A baby. 

He was having a baby. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah-hah!” He cried. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please! Get out!” He cried. 

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

“Please! Somebody help me!” He screamed.

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

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

“Help me!” He cried.

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

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

“Please…” He whined. 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!” He shouted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her cries became clearer and she wriggled in his grasp. 

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

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

He whimpered and smiled down at her. 

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

“Catrina?”

She didn't look like a Catrina.

“Mialani?”

Nope.

“Isabela?”

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

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

Then something clicked. Those eyes, they said everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raphael threw the scissors down. 

“Garrett…”

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

“Raph! Oh my God.” Garrett cried. 

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

“How?” He asked. 

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

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

“Her name is Sonaé.” Raphael said. 

Garrett looked at her in silence. 

“She looks just like you.” He continued. 

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

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

The boys weren't gonna believe this.

[auxiliaryslinky]

ah yes my favourite divorced half-foot dad

[gotobedandgetsomezs]

[notnicodrawingstuff]

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

[sethmacfarlanedeathpose]

[writing-nico]

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

The Angel's Grace

18+ fiction, no minors allowed

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

Enjoy! ;)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember darling, “the harder the suffering-”

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

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

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

He could only hope to bring honor to her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be not afraid, for you are chosen.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stand.” She commanded. 

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

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

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

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

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

And his suffering great. 

~~~

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

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

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

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

“Tabitha!” He cried. 

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

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

“Shit!” He cursed. 

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

“Hoh!” Malachi gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will try.” Malachi replied. 

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

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

Whenever that happens…

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

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

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

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

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

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

His clitoris burned with desire and his vagina pulsed. 

“Not now, I can't-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah…hah-” He cried. 

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

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

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

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

“No, not now. Not now!” He whimpered.

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

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

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

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

“Gross.” He hissed.

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

“Hooh! Tabitha!” He cried. 

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

“TABITHA!” 

Suddenly, the curly blonde maid burst into the room. 

“Mal- Oh my goodness!” She squeaked. 

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

“Help me!” He cried. 

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

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

But he knew that wasn't possible. 

Day 1:

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

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

“Here, drink this.”

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

“Good. That's it.” 

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

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

“Tired.” Malachi said. 

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

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

“Ngh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm sorry, my love.”

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

Day 2:

“Eat this.”

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” He said through his teeth. 

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

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

Day 3: 

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

“Ugh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 4: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mother…” He groaned.

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

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

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

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

“Holy water!” He cried. 

Celeste looked up on him silently. 

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

“Yes.” She said.

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

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

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

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

“Seize him.” She commanded. 

“No! Don't!”

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

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

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

“No…” He moaned.

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

“Hold him down.”

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

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

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

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

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

Day 5:

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

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

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

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

“Mal?” A soft voice wondered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Malachi shrugged. “Maybe.”

Then, Hestia glanced at his wrists.

“Why are you chained?” She asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

Day 6:

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

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

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

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

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

When he was king.

Day 7: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he had to try. 

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

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

“Are you pushing?”

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

“Mama…” Malachi panted breathlessly. 

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

“You're lying.” Malachi spat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm sorry.” 

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

But he knew that was too good to be true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make sure to savor every moment.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hunnnghhh!” He grunted hoarsely, pushing again. 

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

“Come on!” He groaned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bumpsandpushes]

Masterlist

Crowning on Camera

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

clothing birth, fast labour, second person POV

Halloween Special

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

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

Giving Birth at Your Own Wedding

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

blurb, semi-public birth, second person POV

Am I Dreaming?

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

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

Express, No Stops

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

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

You Should’ve Skipped Class

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

blurb, public birth, second person POV

You Should’ve Skipped Class (the remix)

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

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

Clearance: Everything Must Go

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

blurb, public birth, outdoor birth, third person POV

In a Rush

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

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

Too Late to Reschedule

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

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

Swim at Your Own Risk [iyp cross-post]

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

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

[writing-nico]

Birth Poll!

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

How should Kai Give Birth?

On hands and knees

Laying on his belly

On his back, holding his ankles

In the tub

Secret, Sadistic fifth option 🥴

Voting ended onMay 21, 2024

Hurry! Kai's about to pop!

[notnicodrawingstuff]

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

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

[writing-nico]

Lab Rat: Nine Weeks

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

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

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

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.

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

…unexpected?

Or rather, surprising- 

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

Julian blinked rapidly. “Nine weeks?”

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

“And if it's not?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

~~~

Week 1:

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

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

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

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

Week 2:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, daddy.” She whispered loudly. 

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

Quickly, Athena nodded. “Petticoat too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We couldn't sleep.” Athena replied.

Julian raised his eyebrow. “We?”

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

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

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

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

Week 4:

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

“Ugh, that's cold!” He hissed.

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

“There they are!”

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

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

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

Week 7:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Week 10:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wish I had a partner.”

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

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

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

Maybe a jog? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuuuck!” He exclaimed as he pushed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No no no!” He cried breathlessly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hah!” 

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

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

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

But no keys. 

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

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

Still no keys. 

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

He wasn't gonna make it. 

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

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

He stopped, letting the baby hang in his boxers. 

“*Huff!* *Huff!*”

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

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

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

~~~

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

“Ah!” He hissed, shielding himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great. 

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

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

“Ughhh.” He groaned. 

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

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

“Hello?” He said. 

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

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

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

“Wait, what!?” 

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

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

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

“Julian…” Anita sighed. 

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

“...Okay, see you soon.”

~~~

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

“Julian!” 

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

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

“Uh, ouch?” He grumbled. 

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

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

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

Quietly, Julian nodded. 

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

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

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

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

Julian nodded, looking away as she examined him.

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

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

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

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

“Hooh…” He huffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need anything?” She asked. 

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

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

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

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

“Julian?” She whispered. 

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

“Anita!”

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

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

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

Julian nodded, his lips trembling. 

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

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

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

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

“Please don't go.” He said. 

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

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

“Fuck.” He cried.

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

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

“URGH!” 

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

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

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

“Fuck, it hurts!” He exclaimed.

“Keep pushing.” Anita said. 

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

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

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

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

“AAAA-AUUUUGH-HAH-HAH!” He screamed. 

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

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

Julian leaned into her shoulder, panting heavily. 

“Stay with me, Jules!”

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

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

“Uh…huh.” Julian slowly groaned. 

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

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

“No, Look at me!” Anita shouted. 

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

Julian nodded, still holding his baby girl. 

~~~

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

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

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

Just the thought of it made him shudder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Julian looked off to the side. “Um…”

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

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

“Okay.” Jason said.

He was totally doomed.