“Don’t stop pushing!” Joel said impatiently as the egg started to crown. He rubbed the man’s belly as it tightened and contracted to push the big egg out and he felt something move down in the belly. He knew that this meant another egg was getting ready to be birthed even though this one wasn’t out yet.
He held his vibrating belly, feeling the contracting muscles under his fingertips and palms while he bore down. The masses in his vagina and anus were pushed down slowly at the same time, but not much progress was made from the one contraction. “Make it stop…!” He fell back with a pained cry.
Sitting in an overly expensive sofa, a pregnant young man was currently watching over several toddlers play on the floor before him. His hand came up to rest on the mound that was his swollen stomach, his womb full with overdue twins. He sighed and rubbed at the stretched skin, his swollen belly exposed. Honestly, I knew mob families were big but this is getting out of hand… He blushed at the thought.
I’m actually less okay with it–although it still falls under “cis writers use caution,” not “NEVER EVER”–if the pregnant character is a trans man. Depicting a trans man as pregnant isn’t necessarily feminizing or genitalia-obsessing or intrusively gawking at transness, but it can easily tip that way.
“No, no, no, no,” he kept chanting out loud while shaking his head in disbelief. He still had a little over six weeks, this cannot be happening right here and now. Not when his brother was still a demon tied to a chair, mocking him for Sam’s incompetence, completely ignorant of what was going to happen next.
“These are going to help you give birth faster. It’ll be a lot more painful, but it’ll make the eggs come out quickly. Do you want it?” Joel presented the tablets to the laboring man who was in the midst of a strong contraction.
Alfred who was already drenched in sweat nodded weakly at that. Matthew washed his hands at the sink and came back to his brother who had continued pushing. “Owwwww. M-Mattie. W-warn me n-next time.” Alfred groaned as Matthew put his hand inside Alfred’s entrance and hit what could only be the baby’s head.
John expected his eldest son to present as an Alpha, like himself, but when Dean turns out to be an Omega, there’s more than just disappointment in John’s eyes. Medication can take care of it, though, damp Dean’s scent, mute his Omega instincts; and heats…well, John can take care of those, too.
Enter Roam Ashworth. If Roam finds an alpha on OmegaDate, then it won’t be his first trip around the block—he’s got a three-year-old son from his previous relationship to show for it. But there’s heartache there, not anger; his partner died in a car accident before Roam could even tell him he was pregnant, shattering his happily-ever-after forever.
Zoey Ellis writes dark-edged, speculative romances bursting with passionate, carnal steam. She loves tortured, possessive, alpha heroes and is obsessed with exploring love in its raw form, and how that can manifest in different circumstances and settings.
Below you will find a new assortment of various writers on DeviantART who are worth getting to know. All of their respective galleries are packed full of tremendous works that I enjoy and hope that you will too. If there is a writer that may not be listed in this edition, you may wish to read the first two articles in this series.
Review: The genre of an “abused/tortured” Omega being rescued by hunky Alphas is one of my favorites, and this book has some nicely satisfying elements of this type of “Prince Charming” (or, in this case, Charming Princes) tale. The characters were nicely diversified, the emotions (good and bad) had some resonance, and despite a type of “fated mate” trope there were definitely some twists, turns, and potentially insurmountable obstacles in the story and the relationship.
“Just push.” Joel instructed, letting his large hands move over the man’s heavily pregnant belly as he felt the man push with each strong contraction. The egg started to crown and the man was starting to make progress when yet another gush of fluids came out, startling the laboring man.
It’s almost as much of a miracle when Cas gets him to sit up against a pile that consists of every single pillow they could find in the bunker, but when Cas reaches for the stretchy jeans (Dean’s banned the use of the word “maternity”) haphazardly thrown onto the edge of the bed, Dean just groans even more, burying himself into Cas’ shoulder and hefting whatever body part he physically can over his husband.