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.
“Thanks,” he gratefully sighed as Jared helped him wiggle his way out of his sopping wet sweatpants and underwear. He’d barely been in the rain, but it was enough to have left him soaked. Jensen raised his arms, and Jared pulled his shirt over his head, helping him struggle into the dry one, once he was completely naked. “Can you grab the pillows off the couch, and the blanket?”
"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.

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.
She'd gotten dressed and waddled down to the kitchen to begin her baking. At least now, she knew she could have breakfast ready before the children woke up. She knew she was in for a long labour because of her body's physical shape so she didn't want to waste any time. Clive ran in before she was done, "Oh, did I wake you?" Alexis asked her eldest son, of almost 11. He nodded and sat down groggily.  "Well, breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't you go wake up your brothers and sisters?" He groaned and got back up again slumping back down the hall to go get them. It was about 20 minutes late before all 7 of her children that were able to walk had sat down at the table. "I didn't want to wake up Tommy." Clive told

Jared would have laughed at the irony, except the situation wasn’t funny at all. Throughout the whole pregnancy, Jared had been the calm one, the one to provide reassurances when things were going bad, the one who always knew what to say. Now when it really mattered, when the moment of truth stormed in on them, and their baby was demanding to be introduced to the world, Jared was the one freaking out and relying on Jensen for reassurance.


Niso put his hands between Francis' legs, holding the baby's head now. "Keep pushing Francis." He urged him, looking into the murky water where the baby's head was. The water had gotten more pink from the birth fluids coming out."Push, Francis." He said, looking up at him now with a frown. "You're doing it." He said, reaching up and rubbing at Francis' contracting stomach, feeling the muscles stain under his touch.
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.
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?" 

BirthDrake awakes to a bright light shining in his face,To the sound of metal clanging and some sort of strange melancholic buzzing spiraling throughout the room,Like a hoard of angry bumble bees. He groans as he tries to sit up,Wondering what's happened when he suddenly feels resistance,and looks down to see he is strapped to a table. His eyes go wide as he struggles against the restrains,Trying to free himself,But he only hears a solemn laughter emit from the room,And there,from within the dark shadows of the far corner of the room,A man appears. Medium height,Spiked Brown hair,Goggles in his hair. He wears green gloves and a lab coat,Holding two medieval looking devices in his hand. They look like the shapes of swords,With a swirl at the end,And electricity shocking from them at the speed of light. He laughs menacingly,and all Drake can do is slink back onto the table,Shaking with fear as the man grows closer,Soon the man is practically breathing down Drake's face,and he speaks,Speaks wi


She'd gotten dressed and waddled down to the kitchen to begin her baking. At least now, she knew she could have breakfast ready before the children woke up. She knew she was in for a long labour because of her body's physical shape so she didn't want to waste any time. Clive ran in before she was done, "Oh, did I wake you?" Alexis asked her eldest son, of almost 11. He nodded and sat down groggily.  "Well, breakfast will be ready soon. Why don't you go wake up your brothers and sisters?" He groaned and got back up again slumping back down the hall to go get them. It was about 20 minutes late before all 7 of her children that were able to walk had sat down at the table. "I didn't want to wake up Tommy." Clive told
The storm raged outside. The wind howled as it snuck in through the cracks in the wood, and whipped around the house. Thunder rippled through the air and lightning streaked across the sky. The rain beat against the window. He could hear water pouring out of the gutters. He held Jensen’s hand with both of his, knuckles close to his lips as he rocked slowly back and forth.
Mpreg PrisonsA teenager male, Harold, was sent to prison for stealing. He was 22 years old and would get out at 25 years old. He had a boring life in his prison cell with 5 other guys. Some weren't very nice but some were. He often got into fights with the mean ones but were stopped by the guards. One day, the groups were outside working out when Harold went to sit on a bench in the corner. He saw a figure move behind the building so he went to check it out. Someone from behind blocked his mouth with a cloth sending him unconscious. He woke up in his cell with the others. Everything was normal, the people, his clothes, him. He thought it was a dream and he didn't care much. As 2 months passed he grew tired everyday, his muscles were sore, he felt sick. He didn't know what was going on so he told a guard he may need to get checked out since he wasn't his usual self. They sent a doctor to him and a guard was also sent just in case. Harold heard his results that he was already 2 months pregnant. He wa
"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.
It wasn’t long, barely 8 minutes since the last one, before another contraction forced a strangled moan from Jensen, his head falling towards his chest, face scrunched up in pain. “Breathe, honey, don’t hold your breath,” Jared coached him through it. He fell back against the pillows, a slight hitch in his breathing. Jared comfortingly ran his free hand through Jensen’s hair.
"Fuck you!" The girl spat, forcing herself not to give into her urge to push. The men around her laughed as she fell back against her bed panting. She couldn't stop nature though and she grunted as her vagina bulged out, the opening becoming a tear-drop shape. The men cheered watching the opening become wider with each contraction until finally the head was crowned. The woman before her massaged her lips to help them stretch as the baby's head pushed further out. The woman frowned as the girl screamed. The head was bigger than she expected. She pushed the girl's lips away from the head ordering her to push harder. "Uuuaagg!" She cried out, her face reddening from effort. "OH it burns! It burns!" She cried as the infants head stretched her wide. Her hair stuck to her sweat coated skin and she bore down. She tore as the eyes and nose were pushed out. She screamed in pain as her blood flowed mixing with the amniotic fluids which spurted around her child.
Mpreg Part2/3Brett woke up and saw her sleeping. He felt better but whenever he moved his belly jolted with pain. He was afraid something bad happened to his baby. He set aside the thought and brought a blanket and draped Vicky. He went into the kitchen and was starting to make dinner when his belly was tight. He rubbed it to ease the pain but it still hurt every now and then. Vicky woke up to smell burning. She quickly got up and looked around through the thin layer of steam. She saw Brett laying on the kitchen floor coughing. She ran over to him and checked if he was okay. She saw the stove burning on fire. She grabbed the fire extinguisher and blew out the stove. After a few minutes the steam was starting to go away. She helped him on the couch and noticed he was in pain coming from his stomach. She massaged his belly and looked up at him. "DONT DO ANY WORK!! From now on I will!! You got me WORRIED!!" Vicky looks away and starts crying. "V-Vicky. I'm sorry. I just wanted to help." "Well don't."
My most recent fantasy involves twilight sleep, a horrible practice from the 1950’s and 60’s where women were given a mix of drugs during labor and delivery that made them forget the whole experience. It was said to relieve pain but, in fact, the women were suffering natural labor and delivery, just too drugged out of their minds up to make any sense out of the whole thing. 
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