Merlin doubted it. He gazed down at his son in fascination. It occurred to him to be thankful he hadn’t grown actual breasts while he was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how much his masculinity could endure, carrying a child was bad enough but breasts would have probably tipped him over the edge. He had lost all of his chest hair but that seemed a small price to pay.
It was three weeks until his due date and they were holed up at home due to the presence of Hurricane Irene. Their little home was far enough inland that the damage wouldn’t be too severe and they wouldn’t have to board up or anything like they did in Florida, but it was bad enough that weathermen were expecting downed trees and probable power outages.
Jared nodded again, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. “Okay, you’re going to put the end of the stethoscope there. Now you'll tighten this screw here and then squeeze the bulb until this gauge is about 160, or about 10 above the last time you heard my last heartbeat. Then you’re going to slowly loosen this screw and let the gauge drop. When you hear the first beat, remember that number, and when the sound stops, remember that number too.  You got it?”

Lauren winced as she took off her bra and sighed once she was free of it. She made a mental note to go out the next day and by a maternity bra- her breasts were steadily growing already in her 19th week of her pregnancy. They were already heavier than she was used to, and just big enough to make her old B cup bras feel uncomfortable. It was to the point where she was ready to renounce bras all together, but some instinct in her warned that she may not feel that way in the later months to come, so she would keep wearing them.
“I can do that.” He ran up the stairs shedding his shirt as he went, leaving it somewhere in the hallway. He was halfway out of his sweatpants by the time he stepped into his room. He left them in a pile on the floor with his underwear. Throwing things out of his dresser until he found a clean pair of sweatpants, Jared didn’t even care about the huge mess he was making. He grabbed the closest shirt, threw it over his head, and was already snatching the equipment Jensen asked for and an extra shirt for Jensen, before the shirt was even pulled all the way down. Flying down the stairs two at a time, Jared rushed back to his husband’s side.

Sherlock's heart lept into his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. John's due due was still three weeks away and he had already from day one made perfectly clear that he didn't want to be anywhere near when 'it' decided to make its appearance. "I...I'll drive you to St. Bart's..." he stammered, unsuccessfully hiding the trace of fear in his voice.
The sudden squeak of rubber soled shoes on polished floors signaled that apparently sick, demented cow noises, was a good clear signal to trained medical staff that a baby was arriving imminently. Jared moved out of the way of the flurry of arriving staff, to the head of the bed where Jensen had managed to partly drape himself as he pushed and strained to deliver their baby girl.
Even drugged out my mind, this is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. My poor, ravaged hole is forced to stretch even further as his fat wrist widens the tear at the bottom. My overworked cervix is still contracting even as he digs around in my uterus for what seems like hours. I’m shrieking, pleading for him to stop ripping me apart. I just know I’m about to die – and I’d welcome it if it means an end to the agony. Finally, he tugs the baby out and, in my medicated state, I allow myself to imagine it might be over. That fantasy is quickly dashed as he pushes his hand back inside and starts digging around for the placentas. I’m shaking so hard the nurses have to hold me down as he roots around in my wrecked pussy for another 15 minutes. By the time he’s done I’m almost unconscious from the long labor, the pain, the whole horrible ordeal. The last thing I hear before passing out is a nurse commenting on my bruised, gaping cunt, saying that it will definitely never be the same. 
Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation as he did. None of it made much sense and nothing could hold his attention for long. There was another contraction, more sleep and then yet another contraction. He would wake up while the pain gripped him and then fall back to sleep in between. He was vaguely aware of a hand in his when the pain was on him. He held onto that hand as to a lifeline as he thrashed in agony but was strangely oblivious to the person attached to the hand. It wasn’t until his pains began to come too close together for him to sleep in between that he realized the hand he’d been holding was Arthur’s. He dropped it like a hot coal when he became aware.

WARNING: This short story contains Minor Language, Mpreg, and Descriptive Labour and Birth Scenes. If you do not prefer any of these,  than this is not the story for you, and I would recommend that you not read it. Especially if all you wish to do is comment on how much you think Mpreg is disgusting and wrong. If you have anything against this story, you can note me. I would prefer not to have comments that do nothing but start flame wars.


Niso held the baby's head lightly, looking up at Francis. "Keep pushing now!" Francis nodded and bore down hard. When the pain peaked, he struggled to keep his knees from buckling as the widest point of the baby's shoulders rammed into his hole. The taste of copper was heavy on his tongue. Bearing down again, Francis gasped as the shoulders rotated with the next contraction. Feeling the baby twisting itself free, he gritted his teeth and swung his fists blindly, striking the bed several times. He continued pushing and straining. "Gyaahhh..!" Francis exhaled and suddenly the pressure disappeared, the baby having slipped into Niso's waiting hands. His world was spinning and he swayed on his hands and knees. "N-Niso?"
Francis eyes widened. He could die? He shook his head fervently and blinked back tears as he tried to centre himself for the next contraction. He focused on the intense burning sensation in between his legs and willed the baby to move downwards. When the next contraction came, Francis scrunched his face in pain and shuddered violently. His toes curled and he flung his head back, crying out as both shoulders crashed through his anus. He panted hard then pushed again, gasping the moment his baby slipped free.
Seeing the fluids, Niso got onto his knees and helped Francis onto his hands and knees, rubbing at his lower back after. "Breathe Francis." He mumbled, glancing at the other babies a moment before turning his attention back on Francis. "Just push like before." Niso said softly, leaning down and kissing his head lightly while he massaged Francis' back. Francis nodded shakily. He followed Niso's gaze and stared at the two slumbering babies but his heart was hollow and he felt oddly detached. Confused, he lowered his eyes and tried to concentrate on the birth instead. "Hhhnngg..!" Francis bore down on instinct, pushing and straining against the pressure inside him while he held his breath. He could feel how his loose hole opened up even more to receive the large baby as it forced its way through him, pulverizing his pelvis muscles. Howling in pain, Francis thrust his hips with a sharp jerk and raised his ass higher in the air. Straining hard, he dropped his forehead to rest against his forearms, grunting terribly as the baby slid deeper down his rectum. The level of pain he was enduring defied the normal limits of what a human body was meant to withstand.
"Her name." John explains. "Sarah and I decided that we were going to name her Nora." And he held his breath in wait of Sherlock's response. He remembered the grief that Sherlock had given him when he and Sarah were deciding on names for their son, Rory; how they couldn't have come up with something more unique. This coming from a man named Sherlock who has a brother named Mycroft... Sometimes it was nice to be normal. And darn it if he was going to let Sherlock change...
“Of course, sweetheart, anything.” He jumped to his feet and said, “I’ll be right back.” Rushing into the kitchen, Jared fumbled through the drawers, throwing on the floor what he didn’t need in search for a water bottle. He figured if he filled a giant water bottle, he wouldn’t have to leave Jensen’s side for water again. With his contractions becoming closer and closer together, he didn’t want to miss one and make Jensen go through it alone.

It was the hardest orgasm he’d ever had in his life and definitely the most painful. All the hours of baby provided prostate stimulation, all the hormones rushing down there to help with the birth, had caused a buildup of cum so massive it had a hard time coming out at first. He could feel his cock straining and his balls moving on their own even as he arched his back and started howling.
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