(18+ Only - Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked) Mun: Cis Female/28/In a Relationship. A place where I will be posting labor and birth stories, as well as slice-of-life stories featuring my OC, Fawn. This is my new main blog.
Because there was so much interest in having the series be organized on Ao3 as well as on Tumblr, here it is!
Co-created/illustrated by @mittysins and inspired by the universe we built for our OCs to live in, may I introduce the official series:
"The Surrogate's Journey"
The series will be a collection of complete drabbles that, when read in order, tell the story Mitty and I created during a rp and it will feature both of our OCs by the time it's completed.
Hopefully this is a convenient way some of you can follow the series as it continues, and not have to worry about catching the post on the chaos that is a Tumblr dashboard. All you have to do is follow the series on AO3, and you'll receive email updates when the next part is added!
Both registered users and guests are welcome to leave comments! Feedback is highly appreciated, and both Mitty and I will be sure to see it! <3
Yeah sex is cool but have you ever had somebody give you a bunch of little kisses all over your face until you're giggling and blushing because that is peak.
I feel like I'm already losing what little beauty I had when I was young -- 30 is gonna hit me like a train. Is it pure vanity that I wanted to be a beautiful young pregnant woman? Yep. Does it suck major ass that it's too late now? Ohhh you bet!
Wow. Just felt blinding jealousy at an early 20-something being pregnant on the internet again, as I mourn my dream of being a mom before 30 dying as of this November.
That hasn't happened in a hot minute.
Glad to see the old demons have returned to haunt me.
I have fantasized more than I'll admit of convincing Buck to take the condom off, but he's more scared of an accidental pregnancy than I am. But accidental pregnancy is all around me and it seems to work out fine so . . . UGH goddamn me for being responsible! Being responsible about your choices sucks sometimes, because then you know youve missed out if "being ready" never comes in time.
Wow. Just felt blinding jealousy at an early 20-something being pregnant on the internet again, as I mourn my dream of being a mom before 30 dying as of this November.
That hasn't happened in a hot minute.
Glad to see the old demons have returned to haunt me.
((Drabble based on the backstory of a RP done with @mittysins of Fawn's very first experience with birth.))
TW: Teen pregnancy (18+, but still), Forced adoption, Mentions of past abuse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I found out I was in labor when I took my lunch break.
When the manager excused me, I would usually head to the back of the UDF to grab a Lunchable to snack on; but with the baby sitting so hard on my bladder, the first thing I did upon clocking out was haul-ass to the bathroom. As I was cleaning up, I noticed something unusual: a large yellow clot, with tiny streaks of blood. It sat there on the paper, lookin' like an egg yolk and grossing me the hell out.
I remembered something the doctor said to me, but it was faint. Something about a mucus plug? I think that's what it was called. I just remembered something about mucus coming out, and how it meant labor was starting.
That was when I started to worry. I'd been having cramps that day, but I was having cramps pretty much all the time now. The baby was tugging hard at my lower back, his feet were in my ribs, and pretty much everything hurt 24/7. But, if the mucus plug had come out...that meant I was in labor, right? And if I was in labor, I had to be worried. That was something to worry about!
I decided not to say anything about it to the manager, though. If I asked to leave early again, I'd get written up. I'd already asked to leave early twice in the six months I'd had this job, both times because the morning sickness was kicking my ass.
I couldn't afford to get fired. I fuckin' needed that job.
I ate my lunch and went back to work, but I started keeping a closer eye on the cramps I was having. I knew I should've been timing them, but the last three hours of my shift had to handle the after-school rush of kids wanting ice cream. So, I couldn't really keep track.
I grinned at the elementary school kids and their parents as they came in. Some of the kids were little shits, but the majority of them were sweethearts -- especially the kids that came in often. They were always so excited to see the colorful ice cream flavors lined up behind the glass, and some even jumped for joy when I handed them their cones.
I felt the baby kick me while I worked, and I absently rubbed the place on my belly where his little heel was causing a bruise.
"Is this your first?" the woman on the other side of the counter asked me, as I poured sprinkles over her daughter's strawberry swirl.
"Oh....yeah, he is," I said with the most winning smile I could muster.
"How sweet!" the mother beamed as we moved to the register. "When are you due, sweetie?"
Shit, when was I due? Was this too early? I couldn't remember the date the doctor gave me all those months ago. I hadn't had insurance for months.
"Soon," I said with a grin. "Real soon."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had my first real contraction while on my walk home. I was stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, when a deep ache started in my back. I grunted and stretched, but the tightness didn't ease until I made it across the street.
The second one happened a half-hour later when I was climbing the stairs to my room at the women's shelter. I paused and rubbed the side of my belly, the discomfort catching me off-guard. It felt like a period cramp, but really, really strong. The kind of period cramp that would give you a day off from homeschool, so your mom could wrap you in a blanket that had been washed in lavender water and make you herbal tea.
I made a pit-stop in the community kitchen to steep some of the leftover tea in the drawer. It wasn't the same kind Mom made, but it was close enough.
I spent the rest of the day alone in my room, packing some last-minute items into my duffel bag. I'd accepted by then that I was in labor, and I started working on timing my contractions. I would pace between my bed and the wall when the pain would start in my back, stepping in time with my internal counting: "One...two...three...four...five..." until the contraction ended.
I remembered reading about the five-one-one rule in a pregnancy book I borrowed from the library, so I knew it was probably going to be a while before I reached that point. I was only counting to twenty on each contraction, and the goal was sixty. At least I had time.
I used the landline to call UDF and tell the manager on duty that I'd gone into labor and wasn't going to be available to work for the next week. He did not sound happy about it, but it wasn't like he didn't know I was pregnant. Baby's gotta come out sometime.
So, good. At least I didn't need to worry about work. A jolt of anxiety shot through me when I realized I'd just lost a week's worth of pay. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving my hands to hold up my belly. That wasn't important right now. I could deal with that later.
For now, I just had to focus on myself and the baby.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the sun set, I decided to try and get some sleep. I would need my energy later.
What sleep I did get wasn't good. I kept waking up with the feeling I was falling, only to realize I was still in bed. I would lie there awake until a contraction inevitably started, and I would hold my belly and try to steady my breath. They were getting pretty bad by then, every muscle in my torso squeezing inward -- even my shoulder blades were being pulled down my back. I would lie there on my side, huff a few breaths until the pain faded, and then try to fall back asleep.
Rinse and repeat. For hours, and hours, and hours.
Once, only once, I was able to fall asleep enough to dream; but even that didn't help. A contraction in my sleep turned my dream into memories. The pain started in my lower back, and Alexander was subtly crushing my hip in his hand when I said something wrong in front of our friends. The cramping spread to my belly, and Alexander was slamming his fist into my gut while his other hand pinned me by the neck to the mattress. I heard the ghost of his voice in my head, even after I woke up with a pained gasp:
"If 'ya won't get rid of it, I will! I ain't raisin' a kid!"
I laid awake for another two hours, blaming myself for everything. I should've left Alex years ago, before he ever had the chance to get me pregnant. Hell, I never should've dated him in the first place; but I still remembered why I did.
Alex was my first taste of freedom. I was homeschooled until the ninth grade, on a commune where the philosophy was "love is free". My parents were honest with us kids that they didn't just sleep with one another, and that some of my younger siblings were likely not my dad's. It was the same story with most other families on the commune, and that was the only lifestyle I'd ever known.
When I entered the general public for the first time, Alex was the first to tell me I was the only one his love was for. One love, for one lifetime and beyond. That was a concept I'd never thought was possible. I'd been taught that a human is too sexual of a creature to stay with one partner forever; but there Alexander was, telling me I was his one and only. Forever. He told me he wanted to be my one and only. Forever.
So, I stayed.
Even when the playful insults stopped being playful, I stayed.
Even when his occasional annoyance turned into constant anger at me, I stayed.
Even when the pinches and nudges turned into punches and shoves, I stayed.
Even when the apologies stopped meaning anything, I stayed.
I only left when I had someone I needed to protect.
My life changed a week after high school graduation, when I saw those two pink lines on the bathroom counter. There was a last glimmer of hope when I showed them to Alex, but he snuffed it out immediately.
I packed my bags with what I could carry, promised Alex that I was going over state lines to get an abortion, and took the first bus that was going in the opposite direction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now here I was, having my last moments alone with the baby. I cradled my bump as it sat in my lap, slowly tracing the outline of the baby I could feel with my hands.
"I'm really gonna miss you," I said to my belly, feeling his legs wiggle around at my touch. "I don't feel so lonely when I get to talk to you."
It was seven in the morning, and the contractions were really starting to pick up after about seventeen hours of labor. I sat on the edge of my bed, dressed in leggings and a maternity t-shirt from Goodwill. My duffel bag sat next to me, full of what I would need: a change of clothes, a bunch of menstrual pads, a few bottles of water, and a toothbrush with toothpaste. Everything I would need for my hospital stay.
I leaned back on the bed with a groan, feeling a contraction wrap around my torso. "Alright, kiddo," I huffed, breathing through the pain. "I hear 'ya. Let's go."
The contractions were a regular five minutes apart now, but weren't lasting a full sixty seconds. I figured now would be a good time to leave for the hospital, before things got too serious.
I spent the next hour hailing a cab, standing on the street corner with my bag hung over my shoulder. I rocked back and forth when I felt a contraction, breathing through my nose. I was starting to feel a distinct pressure in my pelvis. It kind of felt like I had to pee really bad, but not exactly. I could tell it was a different kind of pressure, something that was trying to come out of a place nothing had ever come out before.
The cab took me to the hospital and I had just enough cash to cover it. I stood in front of the hospital doors and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. The realness of the situation was sinking in, and I was scared.
"Okay, baby," I whispered, giving my underbelly a rub. "You ready to meet your parents? They're waiting on 'ya."
The baby nudged my ribs again, and I took that as my cue to enter the lobby.
The baby. Not my baby. He wasn't mine. Well, he wouldn't be soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
David and Kira were amazing people. There was a reason I had chosen them, out of all the couples that approached me, to be the parents of the baby. They had adopted twice before, and they even invited me to their house to sign the legal papers. Their older children seemed very happy and healthy. The house was clean and big enough for one more addition, in a nice neighborhood. They were even paying for my hospital stay. They were perfect for him.
Certainly better for him than a homeless nineteen-year-old without a future.
Despite how wonderful they were, I did not want them in the delivery room with me. I just wanted to be as unseen as possible. The nurses took pity on me, a teenaged girl laboring all alone with a baby she wasn't going to keep. I must have been a truly pathetic sight, especially as active labor wore on for several more hours.
I remember hanging from the sink in the bathroom, screaming for the first time as the first full-blown contraction hit me. My body shrank in on itself, my arms and legs aching from the force of it. I remember feeling the weight of the head sit heavy on my cervix as the nurse rushed in to check me right there on the bathroom floor. I was only at five centimeters. Halfway there.
I was made aware that David and Kira had arrived at the hospital and were waiting in a separate room somewhere else in the maternity ward. I told the nurses to send them updates as often as they wanted...just, please, don't let them in the room.
I was offered an epidural more than once, but I refused it. I almost changed my mind several times, especially when I reached seven centimeters and the pressure was starting to make my ears ring. But I was afraid it would slow down my progress, and I just wanted this over with. I just wanted him out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I started screaming for pain relief the second my water broke, and the baby's head started sinking through my cervix. A quick check showed I was in transition, and an epidural was no longer safe for them to give me.
My eyes stung as sweat dripped into them, my pulse hammering as my body prepared for the imminent birth. I felt like a gun ready to fire, and the pressure of the bullet inside my birth canal was maddening. It burned, it ached, it throbbed. It was the worst pain I'd felt in my life.
I remember sobbing as a nurse placed a cold compress over my forehead. The nurse had bright orange nails, I remember that too. I don't remember her face, or her name, but I wish I did. All I remember of her were those bright orange acrylic nails as her hand wiped the tears from my cheeks.
"You're almost done, Fawn," I heard her say. Her voice was fluffy and sweet, like cotton candy. "We've all been so proud of you!"
I remember what I said then, because I kept saying it for several minutes. I screamed it, tears streaming down my cheery-red face:
"I want my mom! I want my mom! I want my mom!"
I don't know how long it took me to run out of breath, but the next thing I remember is that same nurse stroking my sticky hair. I could smell the scent of her skin, and it made me feel warm.
"I know, honey," I heard her whisper. "I know you want your mama, but we're here for you. Hear me? You got all of us right here."
I don't remember if I said anything else after that, because right around then is when I felt the need to push hit me like a satellite. I might have used some very unbecoming language, but I don't remember.
The next thing I knew, I had my feet up in the stirrups and I was clinging for dear life to a towel they'd tied to the bed's squat bar. It was uncomfortable as hell and when I pushed, I felt like I was barely making any progress. But I couldn't move, and I had no other choice but to push up against gravity.
I'd been in labor for twenty-six hours, and I had officially lost the energy to scream. Every last ounce of willpower I had was being forced down between my legs. I could hear that same orange-nailed nurse saying something to me, but I have no idea what it was.
I felt the head starting to slip out when I pushed, but as soon as I relaxed it would slide right back inside. I didn't need to see what was happening I could fucking feel it.
The doctor's gloved hands helped to stretch me around the baby's head, but I just wished she'd stop -- it hurt bad enough without being pulled apart like a grilled cheese sandwich. My legs shook as hellfire ignited between my legs, but whatever noises I tried to make came out as muted grunts. All I could do was push. I knew if I just closed my eyes and pushed, it would eventually be over.
I felt the nose sliding past my skin, and I peered through one open eye in time to see a spurt of fluid as the head slipped out with a wet pop.
"There he is!" the orange-nailed nurse said. "He's on his way, Fawn!"
I tried to see over my belly, but I couldn't move my hips out of the position the stirrups held me in. I could feel the weight of his body siting right behind my lips, stretching me horrendously from the inside.
"Big push, Fawn," the doctor said as another contraction wound up. "Let's get him out."
But I didn't want him out anymore. I didn't want to let him go. Once it was over, it would be...over.
I wanted more time. I wanted to talk to him, safe in my belly, when I felt homesick. I wanted to feel him move and kick, and remember I wasn't alone in this shitty situation. I didn't want to let him go yet. I just wanted more time!
It was too late for more time. He wanted out and he wanted out right that second!
I pulled as hard as I could on the coiled towel and pushed until I felt dizzy. The doctor tugged gently under his shoulders, and I felt his body gush from me in a last rush of fluid.
The relief I felt was euphoric, better than any drug that might be out there. All the pressure, all the pain, it vanished as soon as he was out. My limbs turned into putty and I collapsed back against the bed, a black halo surrounding my vision.
Then I heard him cry. A loud, mewling wail that showed he was healthy. I turned my head and saw the doctor handing a nurse a blanket, inside of which a purple arm and a blue foot flailed around.
"Ohh, Fawn," I heard the nurse whisper. "He's beautiful."
My head was spinning, and I'm pretty sure I dipped into unconsciousness for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a small pink body laying naked on a table under a light, a measuring tape wrapped around the crown of his bald head. I could feel someone applying pressure to my perineum, and a quick glance by my legs showed the doctor was working on something down there. I probably tore, but it didn't hurt yet.
I turned my eyes back towards the baby, but they'd already wrapped him in a blanket and was fitting a tiny blue hat over his head. How adorable. A nurse picked up the baby-ritto and carried him to the door.
By the time I realized they were taking him away, the door was closing behind them. I blinked at the door, silent and pale as snow.
That was it, then. He was gone.
I let my head loll back onto the thin pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling as the doctor fixed me up. I didn't move from that position as they wheeled me to a recovery room, far away from the maternity ward. They at least took me away from the sounds of crying babies and happy new families.
I may have cried at this point, but I don't remember.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I spent two days recovering in the hospital, bleeding like a stuck pig and hardly able to move because of the stitches between my legs. I had no visitors, save for the nurses who came in to check on me and bring me meals. My breasts leaked colostrum onto my hospital gown, food for a baby that wasn't there.
I was eight pounds, six ounces lighter when I stepped out of that hospital. It felt like I was missing more than that, though.
I took a cab back to the women's shelter and suffered the climb back up to my room. I lowered myself onto my bed with an agonized moan, quickly laying on my side because it hurt too much to sit.
My belly still rolled outward like a hill, but there was no movement there anymore. I attentively stroked it, feeling its new texture. It was soft and empty, no longer full and firm.
I was alone now. I was all alone.
At least I knew the baby was in a better place than I was.
I am cordially inviting all of you to post this in the comments/reblogs of any and every Al post you come across, on any platform. Especially useful for accounts who “teach” people how to use Al.
Just wanted to make you aware that one of your works was stolen! The vlogging fic you posted was stolen and re-written by shiftingdreamsolace
‼️‼️Please share this, and please, TAG THE AUTHORS if you RECOGNIZE THEIR WORKS. I know for a fact that here are some very popular stories I've seen here on Tumblr that have been stolen. ‼️‼️
Hey there, anon! Woah, yeah, thank you for letting me know! Oh my fucking god, just realizing my work has been fed into some AI slop machine. 😭😭 I feel like I'm losing my mind a bit. Dude, if you wanted to post my stories on your blog just to IDK fucking have easy access to them or whatever, fine, just do the basic normal decent thing and give CREDITS??
Also, not only has this person blatantly copied and changed just the characters' names with that story, but they have also done it with other stories of mine (mostly from my OG Birth Advent Calendar). What this person has done, which is honestly way more embarrassing, was to use IA to change the protagonists of mpreg/tmpreg stories into women (not only with my work, but also with other authors' works here). In case it wasn't clear, I haven't allowed it, nor am I happy about this, so yeah, @shiftingdreamsolace, delete all of my plagiarized work.
Here's DAILY VLOG, my OG story:
https://www.tumblr.com/donotpush1/820047556400889856
And here's the post on their Tumblr, with no proper credit or anything:
https://www.tumblr.com/shiftingdreamsolace/819619623974699008/so-adam-smiled-holding-the-camera-over-his
As well, I've found MORE of my work that has been plagiarized, modified, and shared without permission.
Birth Advent Calendar - Day 7, my work:
their plagiarism:
Birth Advent Calendar Day 6, my work:
And what's worse. They didn't even bother to copy and paste the fucking ChatGPT or whatever bullshit prompt properly:
girl. you had ONE job ffs.
Please share this, and please TAG AUTHORS if you RECOGNIZE THEIR WORKS. I know for a fact that here are some very popular stories I've seen here that have been stolen.
‼️‼️Please share this, and please, TAG THE AUTHORS if you RECOGNIZE THEIR WORKS. I know for a fact that here are some very popular stories I've seen here on Tumblr that have been stolen. ‼️‼️
Authors like us can't be everywhere, and readers like you are bound to notice stolen content before we are. PLEASE tag us so we can try to deal with the situation, or at least put the thief on blast.
It's nonsense like this that drives artists and writers from the communities you love. 💔
Just wanted to make you aware that one of your works was stolen! The vlogging fic you posted was stolen and re-written by shiftingdreamsolace
‼️‼️Please share this, and please, TAG THE AUTHORS if you RECOGNIZE THEIR WORKS. I know for a fact that here are some very popular stories I've seen here on Tumblr that have been stolen. ‼️‼️
Hey there, anon! Woah, yeah, thank you for letting me know! Oh my fucking god, just realizing my work has been fed into some AI slop machine. 😭😭 I feel like I'm losing my mind a bit. Dude, if you wanted to post my stories on your blog just to IDK fucking have easy access to them or whatever, fine, just do the basic normal decent thing and give CREDITS??
Also, not only has this person blatantly copied and changed just the characters' names with that story, but they have also done it with other stories of mine (mostly from my OG Birth Advent Calendar). What this person has done, which is honestly way more embarrassing, was to use IA to change the protagonists of mpreg/tmpreg stories into women (not only with my work, but also with other authors' works here). In case it wasn't clear, I haven't allowed it, nor am I happy about this, so yeah, @shiftingdreamsolace, delete all of my plagiarized work.
Here's DAILY VLOG, my OG story:
https://www.tumblr.com/donotpush1/820047556400889856
And here's the post on their Tumblr, with no proper credit or anything:
https://www.tumblr.com/shiftingdreamsolace/819619623974699008/so-adam-smiled-holding-the-camera-over-his
As well, I've found MORE of my work that has been plagiarized, modified, and shared without permission.
Birth Advent Calendar - Day 7, my work:
their plagiarism:
Birth Advent Calendar Day 6, my work:
And what's worse. They didn't even bother to copy and paste the fucking ChatGPT or whatever bullshit prompt properly:
girl. you had ONE job ffs.
Please share this, and please TAG AUTHORS if you RECOGNIZE THEIR WORKS. I know for a fact that here are some very popular stories I've seen here that have been stolen.
(NB, 1 human baby, bus, holding head, refusing to push, didn't know they were pregnant)
Their leggings were soaked. So was their sweater dress — at least the seat of it — and the weight that had settled into their hips was uncomfortable. Everything about this was uncomfortable. Their leggings sticking to their thighs, the weight in their hips, the cramps that were making their midriff ache, the heat of the bus making their face flushed, the uncomfortable seat, everything.
Aspen's hand slipped into theirs, lacing their fingers together, and they squeeze a little, in time with one of the insistent cramps. Aspen leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to their temple, squeezing back in support.
"Still cramping?" He asks them, lips still pressed to their temple, and they nod wordlessly, clearing their throat.
"Y-Yeah, it's starting to hurt so bad, Asp," they reply, leaning over to rest their head on his shoulder, their free hand resting over their lower abdomen. "'N there's this like… weight. I dunno-ouuhhhh…" That cramp was so much worse than the ones they'd been having so far, and they bit their lip to keep from crying out at the pain.
"Aspen," Charlie gasps, holding tight to his hand, their hand shaking in his. He pulls their joined hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to their knuckles. They smile softly — though it was strained because of the pain they were in — pressing a returning kiss to his jaw.
"Hurts," they add, groaning lowly as the next cramp started to tighten around their back and belly.
The weight moved, shoving down, down, down.
It hurt to keep their legs close together now, the weight forcing their thighs apart. Their hips — which had been feeling loose all day, in a way that they couldn't explain to Aspen when they'd woken up that morning — were full. The weight was filling them up, taking that loose feeling and instead making it tight, like there wasn't any more room in the bowl of their pelvis.
Charlie's thighs shift, pulling apart to ease the pressure in their hips. Their wet dress rucked up a little, and they can feel just how soaked their seat was. What it was, they weren't sure. It didn't smell like urine, so they weren't worried about that, but it had come from them. The pressure had eased just a little when they'd soaked their seat and their clothes, but that relief was gone now, replaced by that weight in their hips.
Aspen caught onto their movements, the squelch of their soaked seat as they adjusted, his thumb brushing over their knuckles again as he spoke quietly.
"Char?" They whimper in response, biting their lip as the next cramp starts to pull their stomach tight.
"I-I… I can't keep my legs closed, th-there's something making it hard to keep my legs shut," they whimper, voice shaky. "I think something's coming o-out." Their thighs trembled, the pressure growing between them.
Aspen shakes his hand loose from theirs, moving his hand to their thigh closest to him, fingers gliding along the seam of their leggings to their crotch, up under their dress, fingers pulling their waistband away from their skin and down to feel their labia. It was warm to his touch, pushing away from their body just a little with the weight that was in Charlie's hips.
Experienced fingers gently pushed into their hole, fingertips dipping into their body, meeting the resistance of the weight in their hips. He explored the mass, how fleshy it felt, squishy but not too much give. Charlie's hand gripped Aspen's wrist, hanging onto him in any way as a new cramp pulled their midriff tight, the mass in their hips pressing against Aspen's fingers.
Feeling the weight against his fingertips, exploring what he could feel as it bulged their vagina against their partner's palm.
"Fuck," they breathed, fingertips digging into Aspen's arm as the weight pushed down. Pushed out. "It's coming out," they whine under their breath, trying not to draw any other passengers' attentions to their plight. Whatever it was. Their breath was quick, thighs trembling around Aspen's hand and the mass.
"Breathe, Char. Breathe, baby," Aspen coos, looking at them and pressing a kiss to their sweaty temple. In their sweater dress, sitting in the warmth of the bus coupled with the exertion their body was going through, forcing the mass out of their body, was causing them to sweat. "Just breathe, baby, okay? Let your body do what it's doing, okay?"
Charlie shakes their head quickly, their free hand gripping the hem of their dress. "It's coming out, Asp, I need to get it out." This gives Aspen a shock of panic, looking at Charlie with wide eyes.
"Baby, Charlie, don't. Keep it in, wait till we get to the hospital. Let the doctors help you, baby," he pleads, pressing a kiss to their temple again.
"Please, Asp, I need it out, it hurts." Charlie's desperate now, an urge to give in, to help their body get it out. Their thighs spread a little more, the bulge between their thighs pushes further from their hips, the lips of their vagina pulsing and blood-warm under Aspen's palm.
"Char, breathe, baby, don't get it out, keep it in, baby. Just a little longer, okay? We're only a couple stops away." They instead give in, bearing down with the peak of their cramp, thighs quivering as their head tipped back. Their lips stretched in pain, a thin drawn-out whine hissing through their teeth as they bore down with their body.
Aspen's hand slips down, perfectly cupping their vagina in his palm, holding… whatever it was inside. It was firm under his hand, pressing into it, and he could feel their labia parting around it. Stretching around it.
They let out a strangled sound as the bus rocks to a stop and a couple other passengers get up, slowly walking through the aisle to disembark. Charlie hunches back in on themself, shrinking in on themself and biting their lip hard to keep themself quiet. For as much as this hurt, they also wanted to keep it between them and Aspen until they got to the hospital. Their nails dug into the skin on Aspen's forearm as they forced themself to keep quiet, instead panting harshly through their nose.
"Asp, please, let me push it out, it hurts so bad, I can't keep it in," they beg, eyes watery as they met Aspen's.
It made his heart break.
"Not yet, baby. We're the next stop, okay? Just a couple more minutes." The bus starts rocking again, moving diligently towards the stop near the emergency room. "Don't push, okay, baby? I've got you, just hold on a little longer, okay?" Even as he begged them not to push, they could feel their body forcing the mass harder against his palm, stretching them further around the girth of it.
His free hand rest over theirs on his forearm, thumb rubbing over their knuckles. "Just a little more, baby. Almost there, we're almost to the hospital." Their body relaxed some, and the mass sank back inside them. They panted, whining under their breath as they writhed a little around Aspen's hand.
"I can't, Aspen, I need it out, it's hurting me!" They whimper, panting through the next cramp, trying to not give in to the urge that was overwhelming their psyche right that moment. Their nails dug in, skin turning white with the strength behind their fingers. They'd feel bad about the blood they drew when all this was over, but right then they were in the middle of the most agonizing event of their life and could only focus on panting and whining through the pain, vision vaguely focused solely on the side of Aspen's face when their eyes were open.
Pink eyes squeeze shut as their body pulls tight again, chest heaving as they pant, head tipping back as they lose themself in the feeling of their body contracting in on itself, trying to expel the mass between their legs.
The next few minutes pass in a repeating rhythm of their body trying to rid itself of the weight — which they were convinced right then was their entire uterus — and Aspen holding it back before the bus slowed, rocking to a stop in front of the hospital, a short distance from the emergency room. Aspen pulled his hand from theirs, standing and helping them up, one hand still lightly cupping their crotch before he slowly retracted it, wrapping his hand around their waist and helping them hobble off the bus. They stagger down the stairs, thighs spread wide around the weight, and right as they take a single step towards the emergency room, they're halted, crying out into the air of the parking lot.
Right there, legs spread wide, one hand reaching to cup over their vagina through their leggings, other hand gripping Aspen's tight as they bore down hard. Their body demanded it. It wouldn't let them be a passive passenger to this ride, and they were overtaken by it.
The bulge pushed through their labia, stretching it wider than they'd been before when it was slowly stretching them into Aspen's hand, and they felt it fill out their own palm through the fabric they still wore.
"Asp, it's coming out, it's coming out! Help me, I can't, it's too big, it's coming out!" Aspen quickly kneels in front of them, guiding their hands to his shoulders to hold themself up, his own hands pulling their waistband down, the bulge growing before his eyes. It was wet and tinged red with blood, framed by their vagina, stretching the fabric of their panties away from their body. He quickly pulled those down too, as far as he could with their thighs spread, making room for whatever it was coming out of his partner.
Above him, Charlie tilted their head back as they bore down again, gasping in relief as the burn subsided, part of the mass popping free of them into Aspen's hands as he cupped them over their sore labia. They sobbed in the brief interim of reprieve, body quivering above Aspen as he held the mass in shaky hands.
It turned in their hips, giving Aspen a good look at what he held. He let out a noise of surprise and understanding as Charlie let out a whimper at the movement within.
"Oh," he gasped, looking at the head that he held, letting out a breathy laugh of surprise before he looked up at Charlie. They looked down at him, face pinched in pain as their body pulled tight again, glancing between their thighs towards his hands before their head tipped back again, knees bending ever so slightly as they bore down with their body.
A cry of agony erupted from their throat as both shoulders stretched free of them, the body slipping free into Aspen's hands with a gasp from Charlie. They shakily looked down, slightly scared to see what they'd just pushed free, panting in the aftermath as they saw the baby that was starting to squirm in Aspen's hands.
Both of them traced the cord back inside of them, as if neither of them could believe that that had just happened.
"Well," Aspen started, standing up swiftly and holding Charlie and their new baby close as commotion erupted behind him, an orderly and nurse running over with a wheelchair, "that explains a lot."
Any love for small baby bumps? Just a little swell that can easily be written off and hidden and ignored? The bulge is hard when you press on it, and the flutters and kicks are undeniable, but you can still pretend.
