Call me Callie (she/her, they/them). I'm 34 years old. That means NO MINORS. Don't even BREATHE near my fucking blog. You will be blocked.
I'm ANTI-AI. If you see me POST AI, it was because I wasn't aware. If I repost AI, let me know (kindly) and I will remove it. Thank you!
Just a girl with a birth fetish. I write one-shots of various birth scenarios from time to time. Sometimes I take requests, sometimes i just post on a whim.
I'm not really interested in the pregnancy process, just the birth bit.
Seriously, I'm really into the birth part.
Anything I write on here is fantasy. It's hypothetical. It's not real. I don't actually want it to happen to real women. I am pro-choice, queer, and annoying about people's rights to their bodily autonomy, even if my writing...aggressively suggests otherwise. Kinks are weird like that.
I'm a kinky girl, but I do have hard limits.
Furry
Toilet Kinks
Death/Gore
Underage
Inflation/Feeding/Stuffing Bursting
Bestiality
Cesarean Birth
Unbirth
Vore
Hyper Preg
On the flip side, there's stuff I really like:
Clothing birth
Public birth
Birth Denial
Multiples/surprise multiples
Painful Birth
Unexpected labor/birth
"I didn't know I was pregnant."
Quick labor, struggle with crowning
Bondage during birth
Sex/rape during birth
Dub-con/coercion
...and a lot of other things, I'm sure these two tags will probably give you an idea.
Having a birth kink is embarrassing sometimes, like my body would realistically be exhausted, in pain, stretched to it's limit. But I just can't help but get wet when I'm even just thinking about it. I probably need someone to tell me how pathetic that little kink of mine is, preferably while I'm in labour just to drive the point further.
I'd probably still get embarrassingly wet about that.
It’s still wild to me how other people share niche turn-ons such as pregnant bellies growing rapidly and struggling to hold off from giving birth into tight-fitting clothes. Like what do you mean you’re into that too, surely that’s just my weird little thing…
BUILD A BIRTH VOL. 2 - now with birth denial options!
@pumpkinbirth
🤰 female
🍼 human
1️⃣ Singleton
🌲 forest
🖐️ pushing baby back in
🦵 squatting
🧠 didn't know they were pregnant
POV: Third person (and she's bisexual, happy pride.)
Mina hated the outdoors. The freshness of the hiking boots that rubbed against her feet and were definitely giving her blisters, the clumsiness of how she waddled through the trail, and just how much the whole ordeal hurt should have been everyone's biggest clues that she was an imposter. Her life was usually spent in front of a video game console or wandering through the crowded halls of an anime convention amongst her peers. Where there was air conditioning and Wi-fi.
She took a swig of her water bottle and grimaced. She adjusted her cargo pants, one of the few items she hadn't needed to purchase for this trip. No, she'd bought them for a cosplay, covered them in patches, and kept them because they were one of the few things that still fit lately. Mina had always been a curvy girl, but her weight had been on the upswing lately.
No matter, she loved her body one way or another. She didn't love how her breasts didn't want to squeeze correctly into the tank top she'd bought just a week ago, when she'd agreed to this Tinder date, or how it felt like everything was cramping.
When were they going to stop?!
The girl she'd agreed to go hiking with had insisted it was a 'short hike,' and a 'beginner's trail.'
Beginner, Mina's ass. They had stopped three times already.
The girl was so pretty, though, with big, brown eyes and curly black hair that Mina could see herself losing her hands in while she-
A twinge of pain low in her abdomen stopped her. This pain had become a consistent companion, one that refused to leave her. She gritted her teeth and stopped to lean against a tree. Her date, oblivious, continued. Mina went to call out her name, but a new sensation hit her: dampness between her legs.
Holy shit, had she just pissed her pants?!
Humiliated, she stepped off the trail.
She couldn't face Celine after that. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. fuck.
Mina stared down at the wet spot between her pants, then slipped off her backpack and started to rummage through it. She had to have a spare pare of pants in there, right?! Maybe past her had been smarter, past her had figured something out...
As she fought through the overpacked bag (a lot of water, protein bars, some lube...sex toys...aha! A change of clothes that...was not hiking gear, that's for sure.) The change of clothes was a pair of shorts that was definitely meant for casual wear. They were much tighter than the cargo pants Mina was wearing.
Shit.
She groaned as the pain returned, leaning back against the tree. Maybe she should head back.
No, she couldn't leave Celine alone.
"Celine!" She called out. Silence.
She shoved everything back in her bag and started to waddle back towards the trail.
Where was the trail?
More swearing. Mina's navigation was barely enough to get her through an anime convention on a good day with a map, she was useless in the woods.
The next twenty minutes was her trying to find her way through these woods. It also involved the strange pain getting more and more insistent. She groaned, grabbing at a tree as the pain heightened to something that forced her to stop.
"Fuck, what is that?! Oh my god, am I getting heat stroke, or something?!" Mina's mind went to the various things that could happen from intense dehydration, but she had been drinking quite a bit of water on this hike.
"No, no, that's not..." She groaned. She gritted her teeth as she clutched her stomach. There was a strange movement under her hand as she held it there.
A...movement?
Her heart dropped.
Denial came first, a grief's crash course that had started with hooking up with one of her friends at an after-party and ended...here.
No, no, no.
She couldn't be pregnant, and it couldn't be ending here.
It wouldn't be real, because she wouldn't allow it to be real. If she refused it, it wouldn't happen. She would find Celine, make up an excuse about being sun-sick, and drive herself to a hospital, and she'd never be humiliated with...this.
Yes, she'd make it through.
She'd...somehow navigate out of the woods.
Each step was a fight. It felt like a crushing weight was slowly and painfully trying to nudge its way between her hips. The weight of the head settling into the crook of her cervix was inevitable and horrifying. It was violating, in its own rite. She had not asked for this.
She moaned desperately, digging her nails into another tree as she felt what she was sure was her cervix dilating a little more. How was she supposed to know when she was ready? A part of her mind knew her body would know...but would she?
She took a ragged breath and continued. It was an hour before she found the trail again. The nagging pressure between her legs didn't relent. Mina stumbled with each step, gasping and moaning through the mounting contractions.
"Please, stop," she sobbed, holding herself as she dragged her feet along the path. Each contraction felt like it was spreading her open from the inside, a violent pain that demanded she bear down and give in.
She refused. She couldn't be pregnant.
She kept going, step after step, walking through hell. Twenty minutes. Contractions Mina didn't count out of spite. The last one elicited a scream from her that echoed through the woods. She could feel the head slipping down further into her cervix, breaching the safety net she thought she'd have.
"No! No, oh my god, no, no, please..." Mina sobbed, stumbling and grabbing a nearby tree. She couldn't do this. She leaned against it and waited for the contraction to ease. If she refused to push, if she just...didn't do it...
She took a few more agonizing steps. Her body pushed for her and she wailed, trying to muffle the sound by covering her mouth with her hand.
No, she couldn't alert Celine, she wouldn't ruin this date--
She kept going. She barely moved a few steps between contractions, her voice raw from screaming through the pain as her body slowly pushed the baby she denied through the birth canal without her help. Mina cried out to anyone who would listen, but she was alone on the trail.
Onward she went, trying to find...what? Celine? Help? Her pain-hazed mind wouldn't answer.
The true horror came when Mina felt something begin to spread her open. She stopped, leaning her back against a tree and slipping her hand down her pants. She felt the head spreading her lips open, coming to a partial crown into her panties.
Dread made her heart stop, her breath catching hard in her chest. Once the moment past, she had nothing short of panic running through her veins like a poison.
"No, no, no, not here, no this," she choked, digging her nails into her thighs as her body pushed again without her help. She took a sharp breath, shaking her head in denial.
She couldn't give birth here, she couldn't let Celine see her like this---
Reason wasn't present. Mina reached down and pressed the soft part of her palm to the head and firmly pushed, pressing the baby back into her. Pain flooded her like the worst drug that she'd ever experienced. She screamed until her voice gave, her legs giving from under her and causing her to collapse onto the ground. She sat there on her hands and knees, sobbing and shaking for a few minutes as her body furiously contracted and pushed, trying to undo what she had done.
Keep walking.
It felt like hell.
It felt like an endless hell that she had been thrust into.
It was only ten more minutes before Celine found her.
"Mina! There you are! Oh my god, I thought I was gonna have to call--are you okay?!" Celine's eyebrows furrowed in concern, confusion, and then alarm.
"I'm--it's fine, I just---need to go home, I'm sorry. Um, stomach issues." Mina was a terrible liar, but the worst pain of her life wasn't making it better.
Celine was looking at her too hard, her eyes widening with each passing second.
"Sure, you're sure you don't want me to call someone--"
"No! Let's just--walk---"
"Let me help you..."
Celine, despite the hike, smelled like strawberries and had soft skin. Her hands were pleasantly calloused and Mina couldn't focus because there was another contraction. She tried not to cry out, but it made her choke and stumble.
"Mina, I really think we should call someone--"
Mina shook her head, her legs shaking under her. "It's fine, really--"
"Why won't you tell me?"
"Because you're really pretty, and really cool," Mina gasped between contractions, "And there's not a chance if I give birth to my best friend's baby in front of you on our first date that you'll ever call me back again!"
Celine stopped, stared, and blinked at Mina a few times.
"That's...a lot to process, but---you think I'm cool?"
"Celine!" Mina cried out.
"Right, right! Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?! I'd never take you hiking like this!"
"I didn't know!" Mina sobbed as Celine grabbed her arm for support, "I don't even like hiking!"
Celine's smile was warm and a little amused, but she didn't comment, instead she locked into the task at hand. "Alright, how far along are you?"
"I---pushed it back in," Mina gasped.
Celine gave her a concerned, almost chastizing look, "Okay, we're just---come on."
More walking. Mina thought she was going to die. She didn't. Celine took her off trail, to a beautiful spot next to a waterfall.
"I usually don't take people here on the first date, but we need clean water, and...well, I like you," Celine flushed. Mina was too busy fighting through a contraction.
"I think it's crowning again," Mina gasped. There was no time to take off Mina's hiking boots, which meant the cargo pants couldn't properly come off, either. So they just slid her pants down, revealing the outline of a head pressing against Mina's panties.
"Yep, that's a head." Celine confirmed.
Mina whined. Now that she was free of her pants, she instinctively lowered herself into a squat. Celine crouched down so she could get a better look at what was going on.
"Alright, beautiful, next time when you have a contraction, work with your body and push."
"I don't want to," Mina sobbed, "This isn't supposed to be happening."
"But it is, so you're going to have to do it," Celine responded firmly. It wasn't cruel or unkind, but like she'd done this before.
Mina was interrupted by searing pain, insistent and raw. She howled as she finally, for the first time, let herself push. She bore down hard, her legs shaking as she felt the head start to fully crown again. This time, it stretched to a proper crown, one that pulled her to a stage where-
Mina stopped pushing, whimpering. "It burns!"
"Yes, that's supposed to happen!" Celine soothed, reaching and gently rubbing Mina's thigh. "You have to push through the pain, Mina."
"I can't, I'm not ready..."
"Doesn't matter if you're ready, it's time, now push." When Mina looked down, Celine was staring right into her eyes. She let out another sob as she bore down. The pain was like nothing she'd ever experienced, a burn that she was sure would tear her in two.
It didn't. The head slid out of her. She gasped, the sensation new and overwhelming.
"Good! Now, don't push." Celine ordered.
"What? No, please, it--it--"
"I'm checking, give me a second," Celine ordered.
Agony again. Mina gasped through her body's insistent orders to bear down. Push, push, push---
"Okay, clear, go ahead. Give me a big one."
The shoulders were a fight. Mina screamed and squatted low as she pushed again, feeling the body of her baby twisting and turning in an attempt to move out of her.
"Fuck, fuck, so big, they're so big, fuck," she sobbed.
"Keep going," Celine coaxed.
Another push.
Another.
Mina sobbed, her thighs trembling under her.
"I'm--I can't---"
"One more," Celine got up and cupped Mina's face in her hands. "For me."
Mina bore down one more time, letting out a noise she was sure didn't come from her. The pain was unworldly, something she couldn't describe or process. Then it was over.
A pause. A silence that terrified her.
Then the scream of a healthy child.
Celine laughed, holding up a squirming baby.
"A girl!" She proclaimed, pressing the baby into your hands and helping you sit down.
"Can I tell you something, Mina?" Celine said softly. Mina gave her a tired shrug.
"You were incredible. That was harder than any hiking trail I could take you on. Maybe...a movie next time?"
🤰 / 🍼 / 2️⃣ / ✈️ or 🚃 / 🩲 or 💬 / 🪑 or 🧎 / 💨/ 🧠 (good lord this looks more complicated than it actually is, I just wanted to offer alternative options as a writer myself xoxo)
When it happens, I can tell exactly when it really hits you; that deep, insistent ache from inside.
To be fair, that in itself isn't entirely new, it's been happening on and off all day, but all it takes is a little firm reassurance on my end for you to leave the matter where it lies. After all, you trust me entirely; you trusted me when I explained away your weight gain over the past several months as nothing more than an unfortunate concentration of water weight around your midsection, and you even trusted me when I easily rationalized your water breaking an hour ago as just a spontaneous accident, and certainly nothing that would warrant us missing out on our trip.
That was your first mistake.
"Stop squirming," I murmur, noticing the way you've been trying to find a comfortable position for the last fifteen minutes. Your apology is quiet, marked by a hitch in your breath, and I don't miss the way your hands are currently grasping at the edge of your seat. "People are going to stare, you know," I add, although it's a little late for this; just about everyone on this train has taken notice of the clearly uncomfortable and quite heavily pregnant girl, and some have already whispered among themselves, wondering if it's even safe for you to be traveling in your condition.
Of course, you haven't heard a word of it, not when you're so focused on trying not to sweat and squirm in your seat beside me.
"I-I don't feel good…it feels like s-something is—"
"Didn't you hear me the first time? It's nothing, now stop it," I admonish you coldly, narrowing my eyes down at you. God, you look so good like this, with your cheeks flushed and brows furrowed, trying so hard to be good for me no matter how much your body is screaming that something is wrong. "Just sit. Still. No wriggling, no whining, and no pushing."
Confusion flickers through your eyes at the last words, but before you can even ask what I mean, you press your lips firmly together, whimpering as another tight, dreadful pain tightens its grip around your midsection. Sweat beads at your temples, and I can see the way your belly visibly contorts with the force of the contraction. I want to touch it, want to feel the sensation of those babies I put in you moving steadily downward, but I keep my hands to myself. For now.
Unfortunately for you, it becomes clear that whatever is happening to you is getting impossible to ignore, and when you shift in your seat once again I can see a significant bulging in your leggings that wasn't there when we had first sat down. Tears stream down your face as you try to tell me that something's wrong, something is stretching your poor little pussy wide open, but the pain has stolen all the sound from your throat and left you a whimpering mess as you try to obey me, try not to push.
You last all of fifteen seconds.
"It h-hurts, it's burning, I can't—" you moan through clenched teeth, and the bulge in your leggings grows bigger as whatever it is seems to be forcing its way out of you whether you make the conscious choice to push or not. When you finally give in and bear down against my wishes, a strangled mix between a yelp and a sob tears its way out of you, and all at once the soaked fabric between your legs stretches outward with a solid, squirming mass. I make no move to help you as you fumble to pull them down enough to reveal the wriggling, wailing baby that had just been born into your pants, a baby you had most certainly known nothing about.
Loud murmurs and hurries whispers of our fellow passengers erupt around us, and as you look up at me with a desperate question in your eyes, all I can do is shake my head disapprovingly. "You just couldn't do the one thing I asked of you," I click my tongue condescendingly. "and now all of these people are going to have to watch you give birth again."
Your face drains of what little color remains, but before you can open your mouth to ask what I mean, you feel it again; that awful, contracting tightness from within you, that feeling of something massive inching its way down. The cry that tears free of you almost seems to harmonize with the wails of your first baby, but instead of giving in and pushing, you shakily try to press your thighs closed.
I lift an eyebrow slightly, unable to keep an amused smile from rising to my face as I realize that despite the agonizing revelation of the pregnancy that I hid from yourself, you're still trying to obey me. Still trying not to push. "Hm…I suppose you do still know how to be a good girl," I muse aloud, and a tearful smile rises to your face, even as the head of your second baby still valiantly tries to ease its way out of you, centimeter after excruciating centimeter.
🌲 forest
🏖️ beach
🏠 home
🚜 farm
🏢 office building
🏥 hospital
🛒 store
🚃 train/subway
🚗 car
🚌 bus
⛵ boat
✈️ plane
🧭 other (requestor specify)
MANNER OF DENIAL
🩲 tight clothing
🫴 holding head
🖐️ pushing baby back in
🔒 chastity belt
🪢 legs tied together
🤸 bad positions
💬 being told not to push
🛑 refusing to push
💊 medication
🔌 plug/other toy
🚩 forced denial
🏳️ willing denial
🃏 other (requestor specify)
POSITIONS
🧍 standing
🪑 sitting
🧎 kneeling
🙇 all fours
🛌 laying down
🦵 squatting
💧 water birth
🧘 other (requestor specify)
quarterly reminder that if i reblog something ai-generated it is 110% and always an accident and for the love of god please tell me so i can delete it from my blog
Say what you will about being a phone sex operator, but you definitely can’t call it boring.
All manner of voices find their way to you; some shy and unsure, while others can be abrasive and demanding. Hell, half of the time you barely have to do or say a damn thing while harsh panting emanates from your headphones as the person on the other end clearly only needs to know you’re listening in order to get off. There are times, though, when you find yourself engaging in specific fantasies of your callers, and those are often the most unique ones of all.
For example, tonight’s caller.
“Ooh, that one sounded like it hurt,” you purr, listening intently as the woman on the other end pants and breathes in a specifically measured way. She had called in ten minutes ago, her voice hushed and thick with anticipation, and you’d listened attentively as she explained the premise of her call: she was in labor. It isn’t the strangest thing you’ve had to play along with by far, and as the minutes tick by and her ‘contractions’ grow stronger, you inwardly find yourself much more aroused by this than you would’ve thought.
“Mnhh, they’re getting so much stronger now…” she breathes in confirmation, which earns a sound from you that is both sympathetic and teasing.
“Tell me how it feels,” you prompt, reclining back in your chair. Your fingertips trace lazily at your waistline as you do so, silently debating whether to slip further downward. Not yet, you decide. “I want to know everything, sweetheart.” There’s a faint click on the other end, perhaps the sound of your caller’s throat as she swallows hard.
“The pressure is…i-it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before,” the woman murmurs, her voice slightly strained as she fights to speak through what you assume is another one. “I can f-feel the baby moving downwards, little by little…my body’s been opening up for it all day, so it won’t be long until—!” Her sentence abruptly halts, and your eyes widen slightly as you hear what sounds like a faint splashing sound, liquid hitting another surface, the floor perhaps?
Whoever this caller is, she’s really committed to this fantasy, and you’re all too happy to be along for the ride, however odd it may be.
“Oh, sweetheart,” you croon once you’ve gathered yourself again, immersing yourself into her strange roleplay. “Did your water just break?” It takes a second for her to answer you, and for the briefest moment you wonder if the call has dropped. Her voice returns a second later, though, accompanied by that same anticipatory tremor she had when the call first began.
“There’s…fuck, there’s so much of it,” she whispers, grunting softly as she makes herself comfortable, or so you assume. “I-it just keeps coming…the bottom half of my dress is soaked through.”
“Well that won’t do,” you tsk, idly slipping a hand down the front of your pants as you tend to the budding arousal your caller has stoked in you. “It sounds like you’d better take it off, right…?” You draw out the last word seductively, and the effect is instantaneous. She whimpers into your ear before you hear the rustle of fabric, and you imagine what must be happening; her hands shaking slightly as she grasps the hem of her dress, pulling the drenched garment up and off of herself. You shiver slightly as you envision what her pregnant body might look like, before reminding yourself that this is purely roleplay, and you should keep it moving along. “Good girl. Now the rest of it, unless…?”
“T-there isn’t anything else,” she murmurs, almost coyly, and this elicits a pleased sound from you. Your hand works steadily between your legs as you listen to her heavy breaths, no doubt another of her ‘contractions’, and you’re surprised at how much this is actually turning you on. This job certainly has been a journey of self discovery, if nothing else.
“O-ohh—!” This time her voice is laced with urgency, and part of you wonders if she’s actually in pain. But that’s ridiculous, you reason to yourself; if this woman was actually in active labor, there’s no way she would be still on the line with you. No, you tell yourself as you listen to her moaning and panting, she’s just very good at this.
“Sounds like there isn’t much time left,” you purr, and the moan this earns makes a pleased smirk spread across your face. “Am I right, sweetheart? Is it time for my good girl to start pushing?”
“M-mngh, yes…!” she whimpers, and you hear more rustling as she repositions herself. Your mind conjures images of what your caller might look like, sitting naked against the headboard of her bed, legs spread to make room for her swollen belly. You swear under your breath as the image urges your fingers to move faster, but if she hears you she says nothing of it.
“C’mon then, pretty girl,” you urge, curious to see how far she wants to take her fantasy. “Push for me, let me hear it…”
Her response isn’t verbal, but it’s very much audible. A deep, almost primal grunting as she seems to bear down, straining until eventually letting up with a gasp for air. “Coming, it’s c-coming…” she pants, and you absently lick your lips before responding.
“Mm, what a productive push that must’ve been…give me another,” you order, your pulse racing as you hear her obey almost too eagerly. “Again,” you urge when she lets up, reveling in how much she’s become utterly lost in her fantasy. “Again…”
You have no idea how long this call has gone on for, but that doesn’t bother you in the slightest. All you know is that she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are; moans seamlessly intertwining with her cries of mock pain. Until at last, her voice rings out again, seeming to reverberate through your headphones.
“O-ohhhfuck it’s right there—“
“Keep pushing, you’re close, I know you’re close…”
“F-fuck…mnnhhgh!!”
The sounds she makes are unlike anything you’ve heard before, and as you feel yourself reaching your own peak you make a note to thank her for this strange new kink she’s helped you to unlock. Her last moan is a desperate, guttural scream, and there’s a soft muffled sound that must be her slumping back against the headboard. Before you can say a word, though, you hear something else on the other end, something peeking through your caller’s exhausted, labored breaths.
Something that sounds an awful lot like wailing.
“H-haahhh…thank you…for all of your help,” the woman pants hotly, and you can faintly hear her cooing softly to something before the line disconnects, leaving you equal parts aroused and confused. You wonder, faintly, if this means you can technically add ‘midwife’ onto your strange, extensive resume.
Reblog if you’d rather give yourself papercuts between each of your fingers and then rub hand sanitizer all over your hands than use generative AI to write or draw anything ever
I always forget there are maga people on tumblr, this doesn’t feel like a website you’d find them on, so to keep them away:
Reblog if your blog is a maga free zone because if it wasn’t clear enough fuck ice, fuck maga, fuck Trump, Fuck Rowling, and fuck all the other bigots I missed
birth kink ask meme: dark/extreme/unrealistic version
(everything is fiction/fantasy only; trigger warning for various dark/hard kinks! if this is too intense for you, check out this version)
how do you feel about physical torture/abuse during birth? do you want it to be only birth-related or other forms of pain as well?
how do you feel about emotional sadomasochism during birth? gaslighting, invalidation, dehumanization, degradation, neglect, etc.?
how do you feel about the person giving birth being in an abusive relationship?
should the person giving birth want medical help? should they receive it?
how do you feel about forced birth?
thoughts on pregnancy from rape?
thoughts on rape/sexual assault during birth?
how do you feel about stalking? do you prefer the stalker to be the one who got them pregnant, the pregnant one, or a third party?
how do you feel about births being filmed? what about if that footage is used as porn or blackmail? should the footage be published? should the birth be livestreamed?
how do you feel about kidnapping? do you prefer the birthing person to already be pregnant when they are kidnapped, or knocked up by their kidnapper?
thoughts on the person giving birth being a science experiment/experimented on?
how do you feel about medical malpractice? incompetence or malice?
how do you feel about transition denial (when a transmasc person can't transition/continue to transition because of getting pregnant)?
how do you feel about pregnancy/birth-related detrans/misgendering?
how do you feel about incest/fauxcest births?
do you like when the pregnant person has to hide their pregnancy/labor from others?
do you like when the person giving birth is/was disowned by their parents/family/loved ones for the pregnancy? what about when they're found out DURING birth?
how do you feel about the person giving birth being forced to work in some way during labor (e.g. not allowed time off work)? physical vs non-physical labor?
do you like when the person giving birth is young (college age)?
how do you feel about non-vaginal birth?
how do you feel about unbirth?
do you like hyper births (with huge babies or a huge amount of babies)?
how long do you want the birth to last?
thoughts on pregnancy transfer?
how do you feel about constant/back to back birth?
thoughts on simultaneous birth (multiple babies coming out at the same time)? same hole or different hole?
TAGS: F Birth, single birth, painful birth, difficult birth, snowstorm, friends to lovers, long fic
Here it is! You all voted, and this is the story you get with the results from the polls. You are on video chat with your online friends during a snowstorm, when she goes into labor. Upon finding out just how close you live to her, you brave the storm to assist.
Warning: It's really fucking long.
"Son of a..." Her voice was a sharp hiss as she clutched her bump, hunching over as you watched her through her laptop's webcam. Your online friend was nine months pregnant, alone, and definitely in pain.
"Shouldn't you...call someone?" You offered, frowning as she brushed her hair back to look at you. There was both exasperation and fear in her eyes.
"I went to the hospital when they started a few hours back, before the storm started," she squeezed her eyes shut and let out a soft breath as the contraction eased. "But they said I wasn't progressed enough, and to come back when my water broke."
"In this weather?!" You balked, peering out your own window. If it was bad at your place, you could only imagine how bad it was at hers. Hazel had recently moved after the death of her grandmother, having inherited the house she was currently living in.
It was a large, beautiful place from what she'd shown you, and would be big enough to accomodate her need for more space. It was just her now, because the father had ditched early in the pregnancy.
"Yeah, I don't think...they were thinking," Hazel winced, rubbing at her belly again and fixing her shirt. "Hold on, I'm gonna get something to drink," she leaned to adjust the laptop, then shifted so she was at the end of the bed. When she got up, she moved carefully, but she had only taken a few steps when you heard, "Oh, shit!"
"Hazel?" You called, anxiety building in your chest. "What's wrong?"
Hazel leaned to shift the camera so you could see the building stain in her pajama pants. "My water broke," she said it with a combination of relief, fear, and frustration. "This sucks."
"Should you call 911?" You frowned.
"They're probably just gonna send me back home--" She moaned and leaned over the bed, gripping at the comforter.
"You're like...four minutes apart and your water broke, how much more real is it?"
Real enough that when she called 911, they started giving her instructions for a home birth, because the road she lived on back near the woods hadn't been plowed and the bridge that separated her part of town and the hospital was completely shut down due to a massive accident.
Fuck.
"Of course it's that fucking bridge, I knew it was a problem when i moved here," she moaned, bent forward so all you saw was the top of her head and the curve of her ass while she swayed against the bed through her pain.
"Sounds like the bridge we have here. That damn thing is a hazard and they really should replace it-" You were rambling, trying to find a way to distract her, to make her feel better, to do anything. Hazel had hung up on 911 and told them she'd 'figure it out on her own,' when they said it might be a few hours before they got there.
"I never should have moved to this shitty little town. Who the fuck lives in a place with one hospital that's across an ugly pink bridge?!" Hazel whined.
"Ugh, it was originally red, the paint just--"
Your blood went cold.
"Hazel...where is your grandmother's house?"
The town she gave you was familiar. Very familiar, in fact, because it was your goddamn town. Your shitty, boring little town without a mall, or nightclubs, or anything to do. Your town.
"Why?" She gasped as the pain let go of her.
"I...are you in that three story old farmhouse with the purple door?" You asked slowly. Hazel looked at the camera, the only color being the green of her eyes and the flush of her cheeks as she nodded.
"Have you been stalking me--" She started, but stopped as you frowned and shook your head.
"No, but I drive past your place every time I head to town." You said solemnly. Hazel stared at the camera as the two of you processed this information, eyes wide.
"Hazel..." You started carefully. "I...can probably get to you. I can't get you to a hospital unless they clear up that bridge, but, I...you don't have to be alone. Do you want that?"
Hazel was quiet for a few seconds, anxiety etched across her pretty features. Then she smiled, a weak little smile that was strained from her hours of discomfort.
"Please?"
You could never say no to her. You were already packing before she finished getting the word out.
"Alright, I'm gonna have you in my ear, just hang in there," you said soothingly. Hazel had crawled back up on the bed and was curled on her side, moaning softly. You shoved an earbud in your ear, moved the call to your phone, and started your car.
Driving in a snowstorm with a shoddy plow job was hard enough. Doing it while listening to your friend moan and whimper through her contractions was a whole different beast.
"Please don't crash on the way here," Hazel gasped on the other end of the line.
"Ye of little faith," you teased gently. "Just breathe, Hazy, you'll be alright." The use of her nickname made her laugh, which was a victory in your book.
"Says you! This baby is huge!" She whined, sucking in a hard breath as another contraction started. Three minutes between now.
A drive that would normally be ten minutes was already twenty. Hazel was whining and moaning on the other end of the line.
"It hurts! Oh my god, please, please, don't leave me here alone..."
"I'm right here, I'll be there soon..." You soothed.
The end of her road was indicated by a street sign and the fact that they had absolutely not fucking plowed. Your little shitbox of a car wasn't going to make it down that
You heaved a sigh, shoved your hat further over your ears, then got out of your car.
"I'm almost there, Hazel," you promised. "I'm at the end of your street."
"Th-they--they didn't---" She was in the middle of a contraction and fighting it hard.
"Plow, I know. But I have legs and they work just fine. just keep breathing, I'll be there soon."
Even at your best pace, it still was a twenty minute walk, which was about six contractions that Hazel had to struggle through before you could get there.
"I see your house." You said, triumphant.
"I---I'll unlock the door," Hazel gasped. It took her a few minutes (and a contraction, where she ended up curled up against the wall and cursing the invention of locks) before she opened the door.
She was just as beautiful as she had been on camera, if not more. Even sweaty, wide-eyed and in the throughs of labor, she was the prettiest girl you'd ever seen.
She sobbed your name, throwing her arms around you (to the best of her capacity, with her belly between the two of you.) Shocked, you pulled her into a hug. She was warm and smelled like vanilla. Your heart did something that you elected to ignore for now.
"Thank you...for being here," she winced, rubbing at her baby bump and biting her lip. "I'm sorry it's not...under better circumstances?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Hazy. Now, come on, let's get you comfortable, huh?" You led her towards the living room to let her sit, anticipating another contraction.
"There's no comfortable, it's---it's all bad," she gasped as she sat on the couch, pressing her legs together. The pants were damp from her water breaking and barely hanging onto her lower half. Even in the throughs of labor, she was beautiful. You shook the thought off and moved to help her, kneeling in front of her.
"Hey, hey, you're tensing up. You're not helping yourself..." You said softly, resting your hands on her knees. You didn't try to pry them apart, but you indicated gently to her to stop trying to keep her legs together.
"Take a breath or two...or three. I'll get some towels and wash my hands. Do you need anything?"
"To get this baby out of me..." She groaned. You laughed softly and patted her thigh.
"That's all you, Hazy." You said softly and got up. "Where do you keep your towels?"
The trek up to her linen closet took longer than you thought; this place was truly a maze (and beautiful, but damn...) so when you came back, Hazel was agitated and trying to shimmy out of her pants.
"Easy, easy. Do you want...help?" You flushed, suddenly very, very aware of how intimate the two of you were going to have to get. Hazel whined, tipping her head back and clenching her jaw. You took that as a yes and approached. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants and slowly slid them off of her hips.
You had seen Hazel's body before: she had sent you pics of her on vacation in a bathing suit, of her dancing (badly) to a song she liked while waiting for your other friends to get on call, and even her asking for opinions on outfits. But this had all been pre-pregnancy.
She was beautiful, all curves and soft skin, even as her stomach tensed and released with each breath, contraction and moan. You were careful and tried not to stare as you pulled her pants away from her body. She wore a pair of black panties, definitely soaked but not showing it as much as her pants.
You looked away as you pushed the pants aside, trying to sort out the weird feelings you were having when everything went dark.
Hazel gasped. You went still.
"Was that...?" She bit her lip in the dim lighting.
"...the power? Yeah." You frowned, still knelt in front of her.
"Shit, shit, shit, I can't do this. I can't give birth in the dark, in my house, no power, no heat, it's all fucked up--" The panic was clear. You shook your head and grabbed Hazel's hands.
"Breathe, Hazy," you said softly. "Does that fireplace work?" You tipped your jaw to indicate the fireplace a few feet across from the couch. She nodded, tears in her eyes.
"Do you have wood for the fireplace?" You followed up, hopeful.
"I...think so? A stash for emergencies, my dad insisted on me having it..." She moaned, rubbing at her bump.
"Then we'll be fine." Second adventure was going to get the firewood and positioning it in the fireplace. Hazel gasped and shifted on the couch behind you while you worked on it.
"--You're sure we can't just go? To a hospital?" She squeaked as you worked with your lighter.
"Not in this weather, I barely got here." You responded, only turning once you were sure the fire had started. "I'm gonna get your candles-"
"They're not-"
"Candles are candles, even the ugly decorative ones your mom gave you. it's time to burn them." You frowned as you gathered up the candles of various ugliness.
"Oh my god, oh my god-"
You were in the middle of lighting the third candle when Hazel started to cry out.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"
"It's--it's so---" She shook her head, gripping tight onto the couch. "I think it's coming--"
Panic rushed through you. You thought you'd been ready for this, but it felt like time was hurdling faster than you were ready for.
"Okay, let me just---" You were going to have to take her panties off. You looked at Hazel, who stared at you with the impatience of a woman who wasn't prepared to give birth into her underwear.
You didn't see a head between her legs. You did, however, see what you could only describe as the perfect pussy, and immediately filed the image away for a different time.
"i have to check, so just, breathe..."
"I'm breathing, it's not helping--" Hazel protested, but leaned back so you could slide your fingers into her.
She was tight, maybe even tighter than you anticipated. You were careful, sure you were going to hit resistance from a baby's head. You didn't find that, but...
"You're not quite there, Hazel. 8 centimeters. You're close, though."
"No!" She moaned in protest. "It's so...low..."
"I know, it's close, but you're not ready yet. I'll finish lighting the candles, and then we can adjust, or you can walk, whatever helps..."
She nodded with a small whimper and took a steadying breath. You finished lighting the candles. Between the fireplace and the glow of candles, you had just enough light (and heat.)
"I need..." Hazel reached her hands upward and made a grabbing motion. You helped her to her feet. She leaned her weight on you, her body warm and trembling. You flushed again and tried not to think about all the various images that rushed through your mind.
"Walk...please..." She murmured.
So you walked. Or, shuffled, rather. Hazel gripped tight to you and paced circles around the living room, pausing to lean her body flush against yours with each contraction.
After about ten minutes of this, she got tired of it and you lowered her to the couch.
"No, no, not like..." She shook her head, trying to squirm off the couch. You helped her to the floor, where you'd made a nest of blankets and towels in front of the fireplace.
"Okay, how do you want to sit?"
"Hold me..." She begged. You nodded solemnly, begging your body not to betray you as she lay on the floor with her back pressed to your chest.
"It shouldn't be like this," she mused between contractions, her eyes shut as she tried to breathe. "i should be in a hospital, with the father of my child, not in the dark, in my house..."
"I'm sorry, Hazy. I know this isn't what you wanted..." You frowned.
"But at least I have you--ow!" She squirmed against you as a contraction started and gripped her belly.
"You wouldn't do this to me, wouldn't leave me, wouldn't fuck me and dump me and leave me alone to give birth---you're so good, you came, I can't tell you how much that means to me--" She was rambling which was better than sobbing, but you still knew the worst was yet to come.
"I'll always be here for you, Hazel. Especially since now you're basically my neighbor. I can help with the baby, too, if you want. You don't have to do this alone..."
Hazel let out a soft sob at this. Damnit, you'd made her cry. Good job, idiot-
"You're so sweet. I don't know what I did to get you in my life. Shows up in a snowstorm to help me give birth, of all things---ow, ow, ow--" She whined and pressed further against you.
You sat in this space, with her fighting her contractions and the two of you talking between them for about 45 minutes. It felt like she wasn't progressing, so you got up to move Hazel into a different position.
"Come on, we're gonna use gravity..." You were knelt in front of her and helped her onto her knees as well. She held your shoulders as support to keep from falling over, her face scrunching up.
You wondered what it'd feel like if she was giving birth to your children. Would it feel the same? Would you get that strange tug in your core every time she moaned or pushed? Or was it just the allure of what you could not have?
Hazel let out a long, sharp cry and dug her nails into your shoulders.
"Oh my god, it hurts, it hurts. There's so much fucking pressure, I'm gonna die, please..." She sobbed.
You pushed her onto some pillows to lay back and check her again. She was fully dilated. You could feel what was likely a massive head pressing against her cervix, ready to be born. Your face flushed red.
"Hazel, you're fully dilated, it's time."
She let out a sob, a scared, desperate noise that made you bite your lip and turn away. Hazel shifted into position onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you. You moved behind her and rubbed her back.
"Push with the next contraction, you've got this, Hazel."
It didn't take long. Hazel let out a long, drawn out wail that you were sure could wake the dead. You ducked your head sympathetically.
"Oh my god, it's so fucking big, oh my god," she sobbed, her head ducked down. She was trembling as you rubbed her back soothingly.
"You're going to be fine, Hazel," you soothed.
"No, no, it's so big, it's---" She started to tense up.
"Hey, hey, don't push yet, wait for the contractions--"
"i want it out, it's so low," she moaned long and low, the sound only interrupted by a shriek as a contraction hit her. She pushed hard and gripped the towel she was knelt over. Her voice came out in broken shrieks as she bore down. You watched, fascinated by the sight of her.
This went on. She pushed on her hands and knees for nearly an hour before she gave up, collapsing onto her back and staring at you with teary eyes.
"I can't do it, it hurts so bad..." Hazel sobbed, running her hands over her face.
"Yes you can, and you will." You said, moving her legs apart so you could see. You slid your fingers inside and found resistance. "I can feel the head. You're making progress, Hazy, you just have to keep pushing."
"It hurts..."
"Yeah, it's going to keep hurting until you follow through, now push," you urged, peering into her eyes. She bit her lip, grunting as she bore down. The head moved and you removed your fingers from inside her.
"Oh, oh fuck, what is---" She screamed as she pushed again, fear peaking her voice. "Oh fuck, something's---it's coming out, I can't--"
You grabbed her hand and pressed it against the bulge that was slowly starting to press her pussy lips apart.
"You feel that, Hazel? That's your baby. You're so close. You don't have a choice, you have to push, you're going to get through this."
She whimpered, her hand shaking as it touched between her legs and felt what you saw.
"I'm so scared, please, i can't---I want to go...to a hospital, with doctors--"
"I'm sorry, but we can't do that. You won't make it. Now breathe and wait for the next one. We're doing this."
She pushed hard, her knuckles going white as they gripped at the towels. You watched as the head slowly started to crown.
"Yes, yes, yes, keep pushing, you're so close--"
The contraction stopped and Hazel sobbed as the head started to slip back into her. "No, no, please, no!" She tried to push, but you stopped her.
"Pushing outside contractions is just going to wear you out. Breathe, we'll get through this."
You were sure the next push would bring the baby to a crown. It didn't. Neither did the one after that...or after that...or after that.
Hazel was sobbing, pushing as hard as she could. Her screams were raw and desperate as she pulled her legs apart in an attempt to get the baby to emerge.
"It's so close, it's so close, please, pull it out, get it out of me..." She groaned.
"We'll get you up..." Before she could protest, you looped your arms under hers and lifted her so she somewhat stood, her knees bent.
"It's low, it's gonna fall out of me," she panicked, eyes wide.
"Not with the progress you've been making," you said softly in her ear. You held her tight, supporting her weight as she cried and started to bear down again.
"It's so fucking...big..."
"Push, Hazel, just push...hard!" You coaxed, and she shrieked as her knees bent and she tried to force the baby to crown.
"Yes, yes, that's it, you're so close..." The baby's head got closer to a crown than it had in the past twenty minutes before it slipped back into Hazel. She whined and leaned into you.
"You're doing so good, that was progress," you whispered.
"It's not moving enough..." She sobbed. "I can't do this!"
"You can, and you will. Now push, push hard," you leaned in to support her weight as she bore down and cried out when the head started making progress again.
"It burns, it burns--"
"Good girl, keep going," you said encouragingly.
"I can't, oh my god, please, no!" She whimpered as she drew back again. You shook your head, then lowered her onto the couch. She sat upright, but you positioned her so her ass was on the furthest edge of the seat. She was so, so close to crowning you could feel it.
"I need you to focus, Hazel. You're psyching yourself out." You pleaded, peering between her legs. "Next contraction, I want you to push hard."
"It's not gonna--"
"It will. Just do as I say." It had to. You worried that much longer, and the baby would start to struggle.
The growing moan told you a contraction was coming. The moan evolved into a howl of pain. Hazel started to push. You reached and squeezed her leg encouragingly.
"That's it, that's it, keep going--" It was slowly but surely starting to spread her open. Hazel let out a yelp and stopped pushing just as the head got to the widest point.
"Fuck, fuck, no, no, it's spreading me, no-"
"Hazel! Push, push now!"
"I can't, please, please-" she pleaded.
Enough.
You waited until the contraction ended and grabbed Hazel, forcing her onto her back. She kept asking questions, but you didn't answer. Now, on her back, one leg hooked up on the back of the couch and the other spread open, you had full access.
"What are you doing?! This isn't---" Hazel screamed as the contraction came and started to writhe. You grabbed her leg, pushing it back for more leverage.
"Come on, Hazel, push, push now!" You demanded. She screamed in response, but she did start to push.
"That's it, keep going, keep fucking going--"
So close. so so close. She fought through the back and forth for another twenty minutes.
It wasn't until you shoved some pillows under her hips and adjusted them so she was more upright than on her back that there was suddenly progress.
Hazel gasped, a look of fear and anticipation crossing her face.
"I'm---it's there, it's coming, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She threw her head back, her voice raw as she sobbed through the contraction. There was finally movement. The large, wide head moved agonizingly slow, but it was finally coming to a full crown.
"Push, push, push Hazel, good girl, you're doing perfect, you're so beautiful-" The words slipped out before you could think. She started to give up, but you squeezed her thigh.
"No! Keep going, keep going..."
She let out a scream that would leave her voice hoarse for days and left your ears ringing, but the head came to a full crown.
"Good! The head is almost out, it's not slipping, you've got this--"
"No, no, oh my god, it's stretching me, it's---coming---" She groaned, sobbing as her body opened up to accomodate the baby that was stretching her open.
"Yes, yes, keep going, keep going," you whispered, swiftly checking the neck for a cord. No cord. Hazel was so focused on pushing, you didn't try to stop her.
"Oh fuck, I'm giving birth, oh my god," Hazel cried.
"Yes, yes, you are. Next push and you'll have her." You assured.
It wasn't the next push or the one after that. Hazel was starting to give up again, but you squeezed her thigh again, something that you didn't think about but seemed to...affect her enough that she bore down just hard enough---
"Yes, yes, yes! Here she comes, here she comes..." You coaxed. Hazel let out a long, keening noise.
"It hurts!"
"Keep pushing, here's the shoulders!'
"I can't!"
"Hazel, you're doing this, now push!"
The baby that slid into your waiting arms was massive. You'd guess at least 10 lbs. But she was healthy, and when you handed her to Hazel, so was she. The ambulance did finally come...several hours later, during which you and Hazel had some long, messy talks while you helped her clean up and tend to the new baby.
It was early the next morning when she was cleared to go home. You offered to drive her. It was a quiet drive, with a tired Hazel and an anxious you.
After you got the baby inside and settled, you expected either an awkward talk or for Hazel to outright never speak to you again.
Instead, you were met with her arms around your neck and her lips on yours. She kissed you hard while you tried to figure out if this was a dream or not.
It was not. When she drew back, she was flushed and smiling.
"Sorry--I probably shouldn't have-" She was going to pull away. You grabbed her hand.
"Why not?"
"Because I...have been in love with you for a long time," she was flushed. "But I know a single mom isn't exactly..." She gestured uselessly with her free hand.
You bit your lip, trying to sound as normal as possible when you said, "What if I don't mind?"
Somehow, that awkward fumbling led to the best relationship of your life. It also led to Hazel having your children about a year later, in front of that same fireplace.
