DoNotPush

PREVIEW

Doctor Mark fucking Hanover thought that being needed meant putting to good use his God damn degree. Putting to good use the many years of experience in a variety of fields, to put to good use his versatility as a scientist, or to put to good use his hundred awards, the million papers that his capable hands had written over the years.

He didn’t think that being an active element of the reproductive process meant… Well, this.

“Oh, God…” another shameful moan escaped Mark's lips before he could bite it back. “Shit..!”

Mark leaned forward. The skin of his abdomen pinched when the sensors on his stomach tugged with the movement, sticking to the few hairs of his abdomen that had remained after they had hastily shaved the spots to put the sensors. The man let his head sink between his extended arms, his sweaty forehead pressing against the cold railing. The air hit the exposed skin of the back of his legs when the robe that covered him moved, drifted forward to expose him.

A hospital robe. The first time in his life that he had ever worn a hospital robe, and it was in this situation. Terrific.

The sharp pain sizzling on his lower back, on the hot skin of his stomach, finally went away, but the discomfort remained there, settled deep in his aching muscles. Mark swayed, a low hum vibrating through his lips as he tried to drown out the sounds around him —the quiet murmur of his coworkers talking, of their pens taking notes, the sound of his own heartbeat reverberating through the cardiac monitor— and his gravid stomach swayed with him, hanging low in front of him.

The cold metal of the railing dug against the skin of his forearms when Mark let out a breath, his whole body going slack for a moment when he let himself deflate. Mark felt his own breath hitting his arm when he tilted his head, pressing his cheek against his own warm skin, blinking up at the bright lights on top of him.

Anna stood on the other side of the glass door, both her hands buried deep in the pockets of her lab coat. One of the younger interns came up to her, a young boy who Mark saw take a deep breath, probably summoning the courage to speak to the Dr. White. Anna's eyes weren't focused on Mark, but probably somewhere behind him, focused on all the monitors and the sonography machines.

Still, Mark only let the grimace creep up his face when he saw Anna's head turn, her attention moving to the intern next to her.  

The egg moved lower. 

He felt it. He felt the way his stomach tensed and contracted, how the eggs inside his stomach shifted, moving inside, rubbing against each other. And the egg that was already positioned to slide inside his birth canal, a solid mass sitting on his pelvis, moved lower, stretching him open. 

Oh, God, he should have said yes to the damn pain drugs. He didn't even know what he was thinking when he refused to accept them, some attempt to keep at least something of his dignity by toughing it out. Mark had somehow convinced himself that the last act of pride he could at least partake in was to face it like a man, no drugs to subdue the pain and turn him into what, a zombie? God knows what these people would do to him and his body if he weren't in all his senses. He wasn't going to become a guinea pig so these people could play around even more with his body.

The good part was that they respected his decision. The bad part, besides the unequivocal pain, was that he was utterly aware of every single thing that was happening in his body.

He felt how the hospital robe clung to his body, the fabric tight and coarse pressing against his body, draping over the hot skin of his gravid stomach, rubbing against it just the wrong way. He could feel the constant tension in his middle, how the muscles ached under the strain of the weight of his ripe belly, bearing all the sudden changes of the last few months, how his body had deformed into this burdensome and overstuffed. He was painfully aware of the eggs inside of him, three foreign objects growing inside his body, moving and shifting as they pleased in their new home, stretching the skin of his stomach every time they pushed out, an almost eerie image to see his, as if something were trying to crawl out of his stomach, huge and heavy.

There hadn't been a day in the last month when Mark had been granted the grace of not thinking about the weight inside of him, about how now his stomach swelled and hung in front of him, how his muscles and his bones and his body had slowly accommodated, attuning itself to carry this new life.

And now he wasn't really sure if the feeling starting to sour in the middle of his chest was the relief that, in a few hours, everything was going back to normal, or the anxiety that he still had to do... this. The contraction taking over him let him know that both of them were way too mixed up and muddled together for him to decide.

“Ah! Ughn, mh-hm!” Mark whimpered, legs trembling and knees buckling beneath him, fingers gripping the cold metal. “Hgnm!”

Mark squirmed in place, knees jerking close together as his stomach tensed, muscle straining and shifting beneath the hospital robe that covered the hot skin. The man had to keep himself from screaming out loud. For a moment, he couldn't think about anything but the pain throbbing over his body, clouding everything. It felt as if someone were twisting a knife in the middle of his stomach as fire spread through his middle, as the pressure built on his hips.

He didn't realize when his legs moved, when they started to drift apart, wide and open to allow the pressure growing between them to come down. He didn't even hear the door opening until he felt a hand pressing against his aching back.

“Mark,” Anna's voice forced him to snap his head up. “Stand up. We are going to check you now.”

Mark lifted his head to face his coworker, and for a moment, all that reverberated in the room was the low hum of the machines monitoring him and the ragged sounds of his own labored breathing, fast and superficial.

God, he couldn't believe that the woman who once shared a desk with him was seeing him like this right now. Or what was worse, Mark thought, Anna wasn't really looking at him. He knew very well the look in her eyes, the little sparkle shining behind the dark eyelashes, the same one she had a hundred times before when they were finishing an experiment, and everything went exactly like she had envisioned. The same one she had when she was just about to get exactly what she wanted. The same look Mark had once worn, in a room like this very one, when the person attached to machines and being monitored like an animal wasn't him.

He couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame her for seeing right through him and only being able to see the damn eggs —God, he knew that Anna probably didn't give a shit about him at this very moment as much as she did about the integrity of this whole experiment. 

Mark didn't blame her. If he were in her place, he would have done the same.

Another hand landed on his body. This time, Anna took a step back as someone else —probably one of the nurses— wrapped their fingers around Mark's arm, guiding him towards the bed, Anna's heels clicking against the ceramic behind him.

“Open your legs, please,” Anna ordered. 

Mark would have liked to pretend he wanted to fight the orders a bit, to pretend he wasn't just about to give up, but the reality was that the only thing that came out of his mouth when he opened it was a breathy moan as he leaned against the bed, his fingers curling around the edge of the mattress. The movement was too sudden, and Mark could feel the weight of his stomach pulling down on him, pain spreading through the bones of his pelvis as the pressure came crashing down.

The smell of Anna's perfume almost made him gag when she moved to stand next to him, writing something down on the clipboard in her hand.

The sudden jolt of feeling a pair of foreign gloved fingers moving down his legs and sliding between his glutes, spreading the open made him gasp before they forced a strangled scream from the deeps of his throat when he felt them slide inside of his tight hole.

“Sorry about, huh…”  Anna cleared her throat, looking at him over the rim of the clipboard, "...well, the lack of lubricant. We didn't want any of the eggs in contact with a potential contaminant.”

In between the discomfort radiating through his body —throbbing all over his back, his middle— and the unfamiliar feeling of having two fingers stretching his hole open, moving inside of him, Mark barely registered the moment when the fingers inside of him stopped, hitting something.

The gloved fingers rubbed against the tip of the egg in his birth canal. 

“I can feel one of the eggs,” the nurse said. "It's already in his birth canal. Should come out soon."

Fucking hell. Birth canal. Another one of all the faux shit they had made up in the last few months. One day, he woke up, and he was filled to the brim, so grotesque and swollen with alien offspring, and he had a birth canal. Well, wasn't that all science was about? Making up shit until you hit the nail on the head and something looked credible enough? Mark, better than anyone, should know how these things work.

And well, these eggs had to come out of him somehow. And if they had to come out naturally, then that meant he had a birth canal.

Behind him, the nurse shifted. Mark's jaw tensed when the fingers kept moving inside of him, rubbing against the hard shell of the egg. The constant pressure and movement suddenly forced the egg to shift, pushing up, and Mark felt the exact moment when the round mass hit his prostate. His body jerked, and he leaned forward, trying to escape the instant feeling of electricity that coursed through his body. The front of his round belly pressed against the bed, and behind him, the nurse's hand moved to the side of his leg to keep him still in place, tugging him back. Inside of him, the eggs moved, rubbing one against the other, creating bulges as they protruded from inside the skin of his stomach.

Under the hospital robe, he felt his dick twitching. 

God, it was hot in here, wasn’t it?

Mark cleared his throat as he slowly pulled himself up, forcing himself to stand straight even when the pressure of the egg nestled deep in his birth canal was starting to annoy him, deep and uncomfortable, flaring up every time he moved. Finally, the nurse slid their fingers out of him. The relief that washed over him lasted little, because when he pushed himself away from the bed, hand brushing over his stomach to accommodate the hospital robe to try and cover something, Anna spoke again, using that little tone that she always used when what she said wasn't really a suggestion.

“Well,” the blonde nodded, writing something on her notepad before her eyes moved back to him. “I think you’re cleared to push, Mark.”

Mark blinked. His hand unconsciously moved to press against the side of his stomach, feeling the tense surface as he frowned. “Already?”

“Yes,” Anna nodded. “Based on our research, your body is just ready to lay the eggs. You should be feeling it any moment now. It’s just going to feel like a little pinch, then, a bit of pressure…”

Anna's words faltered when she saw the way Mark's face fell, the grimace of confusion transforming into surprise as his body spasmed, fingers gripping around the fabric of the hospital robe as his lips parted, the air sucked out of him. Well, there it was, science happening right in front of her very eyes. 

A little pinch. A bit of pressure.

Mark knew it was a vile lie the moment he felt the little pinch: his middle tensed, just like the countless contractions he had been having in the past few hours, but this time the pain didn’t plateau at the awful discomfort of just a stomach cramp as usual. It was a piercing, furious pain, and for a moment, Mark's eyes flashed with despair, and when he thought it couldn't get any worse, he felt the pressure. He leaned forward, one of his hands moving to grasp the bed railings, knuckles turning white, his head spinning as he felt the need to push.

Bit of pressure? It felt like a bowling ball was splitting him open from the inside. He knew the eggs weren't that big, but God, they did feel massive. Mark’s head snapped up to find Anna, and for a moment, he was sure that if he could, he would have punched her in the face. That was one thing he recognized: this thing was barely starting, and he was already losing it. The aggression was a primitive response of his brain to the inability to comprehend what was going on with his body: the pain, the sudden pressure.

send me one word birth prompts!

Professor Harris was a known hardass. Between the heavy work load, difficult subject matter, and the man's absolutely non-negotiable, no exceptions policy of no extensions - it was even in all capital letters in the syllabus - Riley had expected it to be difficult. Though perhaps maybe not this difficult.

They paused mid-essay to drop their chin to their chest and groan, rocking back and forth in their chair as the latest contraction squeezed them like a vice, fingers wrapping around the edge of their desk until their knuckles went white. As the pain hit its peak, they switched to panting, hands dropping to cradle their belly and head tipping back as they resisted the all-consuming urge to push.

The baby was low, wedged heavy and solid between their hips, and even without them pushing they knew they were running out of time. They got the distinct feeling that if they stood up right now it might just fall out.

As the contraction ebbed and they sagged against the back of their chair, they looked at the time in the corner of their laptop. 11:42 PM. Eighteen minutes until deadline. No extensions.

(...) The first thing that hit her was the strong smell of the artificial scent reaching her nose as soon as Natalie slid into the candle aisle.

Once, just the idea of acquiring a new seasonal candle would have made her twirl with excitement, but right now, everything was being a bit too much. Too strong, too sweet, too wrong. It all made her feel slightly nauseous.

Coconut and honey. Cherry cola. Peppermint. Oh, peppermint, that could work. Natalie pushed the cart out of her way and reached forward to take the candle, opening the jar before taking it up to her face, letting the scent fill her nostrils.

The jar almost fell from her hands straight to the floor when the pain took over her stomach.

“Oh…” Natalie gasped, one of her hands tightening around the glass jar, the other moving to hold herself steady from one of the shelves. “Ugh. Uff…”

The blonde let the candle almost fall hastily on the shelf, not caring if it was in the right section. Natalie barely managed to hastily put the lid back on before she let out a gasp, leaning forward, her body doubling over in pain.

“Oh, God…” she breathed, eyes closing shut.

Someone rushed behind her, hitting her own cart with theirs. She heard the sound of something glass clinking against glass being shaken in her cart. On some other occasion, she would have given them a damn hard time, but right now.

Fuck.

Natalie's eyes snapped open. The cold lights blinked on top of her head, and she could feel her own brain stopping for a moment, the overwhelm drilling into her head. It only took one second for it all to become too much: the pain, the lights, the terrible Christmas song playing constantly on the speakers of the store.

And the pain didn't go away.

“Mommy, mommy!”

A whiny voice weeping behind her snapped her out of it. The tension in her middle started to fade. With a deep breath, sucking in the disgusting smell of the candles, Natalie pushed herself away from the shelf and tilted around, finding her own cart.

A little kid was running around. A woman who looked half asleep, with a baby on her hip and a stain of vomit in her shirt, was trying to control another one of the toddlers running in front of her.

Natalie took out her phone, opened Cleo's chat. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment. The last contraction was still echoing through her body, pain throbbing in her gravid middle.

She typed. Deleted. Typed again. Natalie swallowed, her brain was doing mental gymnastics to assure herself that the little text she was drafting was not a cry for help, but rather being thoughtful. She was going to let Cleo know that maybe, just maybe, she was right and that Natalie was in labor.

And that she might need someone to pick her up in like half an hour. (...)

“Excuse me. Excuse me, young lady.”

Charlotte barely looked up from her phone resting on top of her stomach, her manicured nails still scrolling across the screen. In front of her, separated by the barrier that prevented customers from crowding together, an old woman with an awful bob cut was snapping her fingers, her whiny voice cutting through the annoying Christmas music playing through the speakers.

“I’m talking to you,” the woman insisted, trying to lift the barrier. “I’ve been here waiting for like an hour.”

Actually, ten minutes. Ten minutes had passed since Charlotte had put up the out-of-service sign on the register.

The checkout area had gone from tense to a full-blown battlefield in the last few minutes. Hordes of people with full carts started to crowd into the endless checkout lines, and Charlotte watched as her coworkers—with only two hands—threw themselves into the battle of doing their jobs as fast as they could to avoid the wrath of the customers.

Ten minutes since her computer froze. She was painfully aware of how much time had passed, because it had also been ten minutes since her last contraction.

And her manager was still nowhere to be seen. All this man had to do was come here and type in a code, and that was going to fix all this. And he couldn't even do that. Of course, she wasn’t going to explain any of that just for it to fall on the deaf ears of the customers. The woman who kept trying to get her attention wasn’t going to care about whatever technical issue had happened in the system that was causing these terrible, life-threatening delays.

She was about to like someone’s Instagram post when the woman snapped her fingers right in front of her face.

Uh. That was not right. Charlotte frowned, looking up to find the woman’s face in front of her.

“Ma’am,” Charlotte said, sitting up, her back complaining at the sudden change in her position. “Please go back there, we are out of—”

The woman scoffed and leaned forward, irritation leaking through every word. “Maybe if you were doing your job instead of playing on your phone, I wouldn’t have to.”

Charlotte pressed her lips together, fighting the snap back. A small tug at her stomach made her swallow. “This register is out of service, I can’t—”

“I don’t care,” the woman shot back. “I’ve been waiting, and you’re just sitting there...”

“My manager will be here any moment to help us,” Charlotte raised her eyebrows, “But you have to—”

This time, it wasn’t the woman who interrupted her; it was the sharp pain taking over her middle. Charlotte's hips jerked in place when she felt the burn bolting through the muscles of her gravid stomach, through the bones of her hips as a contraction took over her. Her entire body leaned forward, hands gripping the checkout counter as her hips lifted slightly from the seat, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Oh,” she breathed, thighs trembling and muscles complaining at the position. “Hmh. Ma’am…you really…”

Her nails dug against the cold surface of the counter when Charlotte bit her lips, trying to keep a moan from escaping her mouth. The pressure in her middle was still growing, the pain still spreading around her belly.

Oh, fuck. This was not a good moment.

TAGS: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth. reupload of one of my oldest stories.

“So…” Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. “Are we filming Baby #3 birth?”

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa’s tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. “Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It’s a tradition at this point, right, honey?”

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn’t, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn’t have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“…maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn’t him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren’t contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt’s cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn’t just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam’s mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn’t something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

“Fuck, fuck fuck…” gripping at the couch’s back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn’t even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby’s backpack again “It’s a tradition at this point. Of course, we’re filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn’t matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn’t sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

**

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger’s seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn’t make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-… nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby’s head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband’s legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“…fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

was @fatfemmebear, got terminated, have appealed but in the likely event that i’m not reinstated, please rb to help me find people