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.
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. 
"It's normal... We're getting close..." John replied, already knowing where Sherlock's mind was going. At last, the dressing room. Gingerly swinging the door open, he loosed his grip on John long enough to shove a large stack of chairs in front the door, keeping any potential snipers out of the room for the time being. He'd figure out what to do if they started shooting when they come to it. Leaving John on a bench, he hurried into a side room, grabbing the items that John had instructed him to get; towels, a first aid kit, anything he thought they'd need. Of course, he did manage to take a moment to type out a frantic text to Mycroft.
When I wake up, I remember nothing but, even with the ice packs on my poor pussy and anus, I’m in terrible pain. My insides are sore from the contractions and it feels like someone shoved something huge up there. My tits are full and aching, my arms and legs sore from pulling on the restraints. I ask every nurse I see if something horrible happened during my labor and delivery because feeling like this simply can’t be right.
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.
Merlin listened in dismay. He really didn’t want Arthur present for this, didn’t think he could stand to have Arthur pressed up against him under such humiliating circumstances. He’d witnessed enough births to know exactly what was likely to happen to him. He certainly didn’t want Arthur, of all people, to witness to his tears, to hear his cries, to watch the other indignities that were likely to be inflicted on him.

Since they were born, both Mistoffolees and Victoria had experienced everything with each other. Facing exile once the tribe found out that they were the offspring of the infamous Macavity, being adopted and raised by Bustopher Jones, and now, they were both mated to two toms that they were madly in love with, Victoria to Plato and Mistoffolees to Tugger. What really caught them off guard was when they both revealed to each other that they were pregnant. Misto wa
a patient man all time low between two hearts blake healy bottom! james btr kink meme carlos/logan cobra starship fall out boy father day meme four stages of guilt genre:au in reality jensen/jard jensen/jared mason musso metro station miley cyrus mitchel musso mpreg oscar wilde ot4 pairing: sam/dean picture perfect slash somewhere only we know star trek kink meme supernatural supernatural rps the glory of being me trace cyrus trason wake up what the devil may say writer's block

It felt like he was watching a movie as he saw the doctor cleaning out his son’s mouth and nose. Jason beamed as their little boy, Jackson was almost certainly going to be his name, was nestled into his arms by a grinning nurse. Distantly, he wanted to hold him too but the mere seconds of relief following his exit had disappeared and the pain was back with a frightening intensity.
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