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Content warning: mdni!, suggestive themes, full term pregnancy, back labor, amniotic fluid, contractions, childbirth (explicitly described-waterbirth), precipitous birth, zuko catches the baby
a.n: A Mother’s Day special. Hi guys Atla has temporarily revived me, how have you guys been? Lol, I’ve been working on this for a while and I was nervous to post it honestly. The ending is a tad rushed I was legit fatigued at that point. Anywho…
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there 💖
w.c: 5k
— —
He’s been more clingy now that you could have the baby any day now. He doesn’t want to leave your side, and that means if he has to go somewhere, you have to go too.
You stir in your seat for the fourth time, trying to get into a more comfortable position. Your belly is heavy and low since the baby dropped. So now your positions are limited—it’s either the left side, or the right side.
Zuko glances over his shoulder at you, for the tenth time, physically bothered and uptight by the fact that you’re not comfortable. He wants nothing to do with the throne he currently sits on. You give him a tired, reassuring smile and shift your hips a little. Zuko sighs quietly, nostrils flaring as he looks directly into the Chamberlain's eyes.
“Chamberlain.” Zuko interrupts the older man, a displeased look on his face. “Do you have anything urgent to address?”
“Oh—well, no, Fire Lord Zuko.” He bows quickly.
“Dismissed.” Zuko affirms, being the first to stand and leave.
He comes straight to you, helping you up out of your own overly padded ‘throne’, one hand under your elbow and the other on your hip.
“Up we go.” Zuko waits for you to find your balance, supporting you, his hand shifting from your hip to your belly. “He’s low.”
“How do you know he’s low? What if she’s low?” You reply, out of breath, feeling the pressure bud between your legs the longer you stand. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to waddle out of here in front of so many people. Zuko smiles, but it fades when he sees your face sour with discomfort.
“Where does it hurt?” He asks, guiding you out of the throne room. “Take your time.”
“My back.” You wince. Actually, your entire body aches. But you do your best not to show it.
“A warm bath, shall we?” Zuko suggests and you nod.
He mutters something like, ‘careful’, as he shifts and supports you down the stairs and into your living quarters.
“The avatar arrives in less than an hour.” Zuko regretfully informs you as he draws you a full bath. “We have a meeting.”
“Zuko…” You moan and lower yourself at a painfully slow rate onto the wooden chair in the bath room. You exhale slowly through pursed lips, a hand cradling underneath your bump. “I…I don’t think—I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Zuko abandons the filling tub and comes over to help slip your robe off you, a remorseful expression tightening his face. The moment your belly is exposed, his hands find it, caressing and feeling, his lips pressing into the crown of your head. He pulls back and lowers himself level to you, gently hooking his arms under yours.
“I know.” He mutters in a defeated way. He’s painfully aware that it’s unreasonable to expect you to accompany him everywhere he goes. Not when you’re so close to having the baby. “Come. It’s ready, darling.”
Zuko carefully tugs you up and you allow his strength to do all the work. You follow his movement, throwing your leg over the tub to get inside. He quickly turns off the pipe. The water is so warm and you can’t help the noise that bubbles up your throat when he lowers the rest of your body in. Immediately all that weight, the pressure, the aches, they’re all relieved from the water.
“Yeah? It’s that good?” Zuko chuckles softly, his eyes flicking down to your swollen breasts floating at the water's surface.
His jaw clenches and his eyes trail further down. Just underneath them lays your belly, as big and as round as ever. He's done this to you. Zuko feels pride bloom in his chest. If you’d allow it, he’d keep you pregnant and full with his heir each year that passes.
Perhaps he will.
“A little hotter, please.” You growl the last word, spreading your legs wide enough for the pressure to release from your pelvis. Oh, that position does something to Zuko. His cheeks tinge pink and he has a hard time looking away as you spread.
“Mhh—” He clears his throat and sits up straight, tugging his sleeves up his forearms. His hands dip into the bath, swirling in circular motions as the water heats up around you. You moan a sigh of relief. “It’s not good for you to have it any hotter than this, love.”
“It’s good. This is good.” You whisper as you lean back, resting your head against the pillow on the side of the basin. Your protruding belly button breaks the water's surface, along with your dark, puckered nipples.
Baths are becoming more frequent. They’re the only thing, aside from Zuko’s hands themselves, that are able to relieve some of these aches and pains.
Zuko reaches for the cloth and begins at your shoulders, wiping you down with the warm water. He wipes the back of your neck, dipping the cloth back into the water when it’s gotten too cold.
“Think he’s coming soon, Zuko.” You mumble mindlessly, focus on that little bit of pressure that never fades. The kind that makes you want to settle into a squat and stay there.
“Yeah? He is?” Zuko responds with a similar tone, but then his expression shifts to something less calm. His eyes check you over, narrowing as they graze over your belly that hangs heavily between your legs. “Darling,” His tone hardens, “…how soon?”
“Don’t know.” You mutter, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him dragging the cloth across your chest. “Feels like—her—head is right there.”
Zuko’s jaw tightens. How can he leave you now that you’ve said that?
“I’ll reschedule the meeting.”
“No, no.” It takes too much energy to say that, but you think he’s just being silly at this point. “It’s the avatar, Zuko.”
Zuko only laughs. The times that Aang has requested his presence or ‘help’ just for it to be a side quest or some air temple adventure—this is likely no different.
“He’ll survive without me.” Zuko says, shifting behind you now, dragging the cloth down your arms. He feels the water, and reheats it slightly, keeping it at the temperature you like best.
“Go, Zu. I’m going to be fine. I’ll probably be back in here when you’re finished.”
“And who will help you with that?” Zuko asks in all seriousness, as if attendees didn’t garnish this palace like jewels on a crown.
“Anyone.” You mumble, getting comfortable enough to doze off now.
“I don’t want just ‘anyone’ to undress you and put you in this bath, darling.” Zuko speaks under his breath, his tone sharp and controlled. His voice lowers to a hushed whisper, and his soft lips press into the shell of your ear. “That sight…is only for me to see.”
Your body breaks out into a shiver. You didn’t consider it like that.
“Yes, Fire Lord Zuko.” You smile dopily, letting your eyes close all the way. “I expect you will be delivering the baby then.”
There’s a pause, and silence. Zuko tenses behind you, the cloth stopping just on the back of your elbow. Then he answers sternly. “If I must, yes.”
You keep your eyes closed, but give him a smile anyways. “Understood, Fire Lord.”
“You make it sound like a joke.” He exhales harshly, dipping the cloth underwater now, wiping it gently between your breasts. “It isn’t.”
“Mm—I know, but you act as if I’ll vanish if you leave me for an hour.” You say with as little effort you can, you’re tired.
You feel his warm hands make their way over your tight nipples, and you moan softly.
“And if you do?” Zuko asks through a clenched jaw.
“You won’t lose me in an hour, Zuko.” You try to force as much finality into your voice, but your exhaustion settles deep in your bones. If you have to come out of this bath now, you’ll surely burst into tears.
“Logically…but—” Zuko doesn’t finish his sentence. His hand drags further down, and your belly hardens against the cloth. He looks up at you expectantly, just to witness your face tighten with discomfort. “You’re in pain all the time now.”
“It comes,” Your voice strains, and you breathe slowly through your mouth, feeling your body finally relax. “And goes.”
“That doesn’t make me any less…any less—”
“Any less, what?” You peek at him, and see his expression bounce between restraint and panic.
“Any less worried.” Zuko says, irritated with his own inability to find the words to explain his feelings. “It kills me…that I cannot make this better.”
“My Zuko…” You begin, turning your head to look at him properly. He looks tense. Like he has the world and more resting on top of him. “I don’t need you to make it better, I just need you here.”
“I am here.” He says. But being here didn’t feel like enough.
“Exactly.” You let your eyes slip shut, and as the word hangs in the air, he moves down to your thighs with the cloth. “Go meet with the avatar, Zuko.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“And I don’t want to leave this bath.”
Zuko almost chuckles, though it sounds more like a scoff. He wrings out the cloth and hangs it on the edge of the basin. “I will go to the meeting.”
“Mm.” You hum lightly, already half drifting off somewhere else.
“But I’ll be back immediately after.” He states earnestly, his mouth partially open like he’s not quite finished talking. “And if anything changes…anything, y/n. Send for me.”
“I’m in a bath, Zuko.” Your lips curl in your last attempt to reassure him.
“I don’t care.” He insists, showing you exactly how serious he is.
“Right. I will summon the Fire Lord from his meeting with the Avatar if my water gets too cold.” Now your smile is beaming, and you peek up at him again.
He is, too, smiling softly, that sweet smile. “Good. And don’t stay here too long. Actually, it’s better if I stay until you're ready—”
“No, go. I can get out of the bath on my own, Zu. Okay?”
Zuko leans in and presses his forehead against your temple. After a few long moments, he reluctantly pulls away. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Eventually, Zuko leaves after returning many times. Each time he’d get a little farther, he’d turn back. Say his goodbyes again, give you another kiss on the head. Rub your belly and tell his unborn wa that he’ll be back soon.
By the time he walked through the doors of the throne room, Aang and Katara were already seated and waiting for his arrival. As Zuko walks in, all of the attendees and servants stand and bow. He walks past them, shoulders square and head straight, ready to end the meeting before it even starts. As Zuko approaches the long, narrow table, Aang rises to his feet and turns to Katara. Zuko immediately recognizes the movement, the way he hunches forward to provide his body as leverage, the positioning of his arms—the patience.
So when he sees Katara clutching onto Aang for support with one hand, and the other under the swell of her stomach, Zuko intervenes.
“Avatar Aang.” Zuko greets his long-time friend with a firm squeeze of his shoulder.
“Fire Lord Zuko.” Aang addresses him properly as he helps Katara out of her seat. “Please, sit.” Zuko insists, resting his hand on Aang’s wrist to stop him. Katara sits back down with a warm smile, her small bump nestled high under her ribcage. Zuko notes that she doesn’t seem any further than six months.
“Katara. You look well.” Zuko says respectfully. Has that much time really passed since he last saw them?
Katara smiles, but the exhaustion is evident in the slight discoloration under her eyes. “Thank you, Zuko.”
“Zuko.” Aang’s tone turns grave, and Zuko picks up on it right away. This isn’t going to be one of his fun adventures or side quests, he can sense that much in the pit of his already uneasy stomach.
Zuko finally takes his seat, his eyes glancing over Katara’s bump, and then to the doors before landing back on Aang. He’s distracted. And it’s clear as day.
“This must be very important for the both of you to make the journey here. Please, let’s begin.”
But before the first document is presented, Zuko is already elsewhere mentally. His mind runs on you, how you’re probably—finally—struggling to step out of that bath on your own.
What if you slip?
Or how you’re probably clutching your back as you shuffle into bed with your hair wet.
What if you get sick?
All of his intrusive thoughts drive him further away from where he is. It’s Aang’s voice, which seems to fade in and out as he outlines each concern, that forces Zuko out of his thoughts.
Hours pass like days, and Zuko is more tormented than ever. Every point piles on top of him, like one boulder after the next—the weight of the world weighing heavier on his shoulders.
And the cherry on top is you.
—
You’re still in the bath, but the water's gone cold. And despite your promise, you refuse to call the Fire Lord to come reheat it. You know this meeting is of great importance, and your duty as Fire Lady in this moment is to ensure it goes uninterrupted.
But you didn’t expect it to last for hours.
Another wave of fire floods your lower back and you grit your teeth and breathe through it. Your fingers clutch onto the edge of the tub as your knees settle into the floor of the basin. The pressure worsens each time your back flares up.
The pains huddle closer together, less space and breaks between them. You get to the point where you start rocking side to side, contorting your body as best you can into whatever position that provides a bit of relief.
But relief never comes.
You glance over at the window—the sun is setting and the sky is a beautiful blood orange. Interrupting a diplomatic meeting to complain about back pain won’t be your proudest moment. But now that you’re trying to get out of the tub and can’t, it’s something you’re going to have to do.
Because this might not be just back pain.
“Guard!” You whimper out, voice shaky but strong. Metal footsteps hastily clink towards you and stop just outside of the door.
“Fire Lady—”
“Get my husband! Oh—get Zuko, now!”
“Yes, Fire Lady.”
—
Aang finally introduces the final point—the resistance of some of the fire nation colonies, and how that’s been a significant threat lately to the balance of things. Zuko just nods and glances over at the door once again.
“…if we don’t approach this correctly, it could turn into a war that neither of us want…you do understand that?” Aang follows Zuko’s gaze to the door, “Zuko?”
“Yes. I understand and I agree. We will need to approach it strategically.” Zuko begins, growing more tense as that feeling inside him starts ringing like a siren. “I apologize. My mind is in two places at once, today.”
“If I have to be honest, Zuko. You look like you want to bolt out of your chair.” Katara jests carefully.
Zuko looks away from the door, right at Aang and Katara. He didn’t think it was that obvious. He never wanted to come off as uninterested. He swallows quickly, huffing a sigh.
“My wife is due any day.” Zuko admits, fixing his slightly curved posture. “She was very…uncomfortable when I left her.”
Katara’s expression softens, and Aang goes rigid.
“We understand.” Katara says as she looks over at Aang.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a young, breathless attendee stumbles in and onto the carpeted floor. He scrambles to his feet and bows as low as he can.
“Fire Lord Zuko, I—I apologize.” The attendee heaves in a grating breath, and Zuko’s body primes to act, to do, to run. “Th-the Fire Lady—,” He gasps loudly and Zuko immediately stands, his chair screeching behind him, his hands gripping the corners of the table.
“Speak!” Zuko commands.
“The Fire Lady requests your presence at once!”
Zuko is already moving around the table, his voice thick with worry, “What happened?”
“The Fire Lady said only to fetch you, Lord Zuko.”
“My apologies.” Zuko huffs as he hastily passes Aang and Katara.
“Go. We’ll stay here.” Aang projects his voice. Katara’s hand instinctively hovers over her spirit water pouch, like she wants to follow and help.
— —
When Zuko bursts through the door to your living quarters he doesn’t see you in the bed with damp hair like he imagined. His heart slams into his ribcage, and he immediately rushes into the bath room.
There he finds you perched on the edge of the tub, curved back heaving from heavy, uneven breaths, belly hanging tight underneath. It looks bad, worse than usual, actually. Your face is hidden in your crossed arms, and your hips wade side to side half submerged in the water.
Zuko shouts your name, closing the distance between you in a few strides, adrenaline high. You raise your head from your arms, revealing a face screwed with pain, and Zuko sinks to a crouch in front of you. His fingers comb away your sweaty hair from your face.
“You’re back in the bath, my love.” Zuko says it like a question as his eyes search yours, slightly confused and mostly concerned. His hand leaves your face, shaking slightly as it dips into the water. His pupils blow when the horrifying realization hits him the second the water registers as cold—
“This is the same bath I left you in.” Zuko’s voice shakes with restraint.
He quickly strips himself of his robes and enters the tub behind you, water sloshing out the sides and onto the floor. Anger bubbles inside him, anger directed towards himself.
“You’ve been in here for hours.” He growls.
“Zuko…” You sob weakly as heat floods your pelvis in the most excruciating way, and the pressure makes your legs spread further.
“Okay, breathe. Breathe.” Zuko coos as he heats the water with his body as fast as he can without hurting you. “Talk to me darling, is it your back?”
You nod your head desperately, and a deep, lengthy groan erupts from your throat. The sound of it makes Zuko grit his teeth. His hands move quickly to your back, pressing firmly against it, his thumbs massaging deep into the tissue.
“You should have sent for me sooner.” He grinds out a tight jaw, careful and deliberate with his every movement. “How long has it been like this?”
You shake your head, unable to speak during. Zuko waits patiently, massaging your back as he continues to heat the water. His eyes scan you like he’s trying to figure out what is about to happen next. These didn’t seem like the usual back pains you’ve been getting lately.
“F-Few hours…haah, my back—oh, there’s pressure,” you cry softly the second it’s over, and Zuko embraces you from behind, pulling you gently into his chest. You allow your head to fall back onto his shoulder as you reestablish your breath. “I—I can’t get out…”
The thought of you here, trapped and cold, makes his stomach twist. His hands instinctively slide over your belly, yearning to connect, fingers pressing softly as he checks the position of the baby. Much lower.
“I’m here. Does the pain come and go?”
Your eyes slam shut, and your breath catches in your throat. The pain is back, and the pressure is at an all time high. You begin groaning again, even louder this time. Zuko supports you in the water, his body hot against your back. But not even that helps you. Zuko’s fingers splay across your stomach as it pulls closer to you—tightening up.
“Oh.” Zuko breathes, looking down into the warped water to see your stomach seized in a way he’s never seen before. “These are contractions.”
And it hasn’t been long between this one and the last one.
How close are you exactly?
“Wha—aah!” You’re cut off by the pressure morphing into something else entirely. You grab his forearm, using everything in you to hoist yourself up. “Zuko…I need the toilet!”
Zuko’s heart leaps into his throat and he tries to swallow it down. He’s only able to say your name before he finds himself holding you up, bringing you both to a standing position.
Once the cold air hits your thighs, gravity comes into play and the pain concentrates in your pelvis now. The tightening crests, leaving you shaking as you slump back into Zuko entirely.
“I’ve got you.” He says through a ragged breath, securing you properly in his hold. “Breathe darling, I have you.”
Your body jolts against him and there’s a popping sensation inside your pelvis. Once cold thighs flood with warmth, and then there’s the distinct sound of water hitting water. Zuko looks down in awe, and so do you.
“My water…My water broke.” You whisper shakily, that feeling intensifying by the second.
“Yes.” Zuko breathes hard, his hand quickly slipping between your thighs. The world stops spinning when his fingertips catch something soft, yet firm. Instinct drives his hand, tugging your leg to the side as he maneuvers and looks, really looks. And what he sees makes his eyes bulge, confirming what he thought he felt.
“Ohh—Zuko! Zuko! It hurts!” A scream erupts from you, and you give in to this feeling of push.
Zuko acts quickly, lowering you back into the bath. You find yourself settling into a deep squat. Meanwhile, Zuko doesn’t have time to think, to call for the palace physician or even Katara—he only has time to act. He kneels behind you, hands instinctively moving into position between your legs.
With a growl, your body bears down and you topple forward, gripping on to the edge of the basin. Zuko steadies you with one hand, keeping the other ready under the water. He watches as your body shakes and strains with effort, your finger tips white around the basin.
“That’s it.” His voice is rough but raw with emotion, his baby’s head emerging a little further. Zuko feels as you stretch, his mouth agape at the sheer power you’re exhibiting. “Our baby’s coming, y/n. You’re so strong.”
The contraction fades, leaving you utterly wrecked and your breath hitching repeatedly. Mere seconds pass before the next wave crashes over you, sucking you back into the blinding pain.
“I can’t do this.” You barely whimper before your body pushes again. You make a noise you didn’t know you were capable of making, something primal and sacred.
“But you are.” Zuko murmurs, overcome with emotion. He feels the baby’s head transcend further, and your thighs begin to shake tremendously. “Darling, you’re doing it.”
“It burns!” You yelp, trying to shift away from the blossoming fire.
“I…I know.” Zuko grimaces, his instinct screaming protect. But this isn’t something he can protect you from. “Pant for me, baby. Small pushes.”
You shake your head as you pant loudly and quickly, tears streaming down your red cheeks.
With a guttural grunt you feel a sudden release, and Zuko gasps loudly behind you. “The head…the head is out, y/n.”
Shock sputters from you in short gasps, and you reach into the water to feel the baby’s head. It’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt in your entire life— soft fuzzy hair, stuck to their skull. You burst into tears, snotty, sobbing sounds ripping from your chest.
Zuko leans in to sprinkle haphazard kisses on your temple and cheek, and then he quickly settles back and readjusts how he supports the baby’s head.
“One more push, darling. Please.” Zuko pants, and immediately you’re shaking your head. You want this baby out more than anything, but the thought of continuing is absolutely terrifying.
It’s too much.
“It’s almost over. And then we’ll have our baby, okay? Breathe.” Zuko quickly and carefully slides his finger around the baby’s neck, automatically checking for the cord. Relief flashes across his face when he finds nothing there—everything is going the way it should.
A low groan rumbles from you, and Zuko is already bracing himself, readying himself to catch. His stomach lurches when your groan ramps up to a bloodcurdling scream, and your body curves from strain.
“That’s…that’s perfect…” Zuko mutters when he feels the head turn and drop further into his hands, and he begins guiding the shoulders free. “Push, push.” Zuko encourages you, and you do, helpless against the force of it.
You push with everything you have left.
In the next second, you feel a rush that's impossible to comprehend and the baby slips right into Zuko’s hands. You gasp hard for air and your body trembles violently from depletion.
“Oh.” Zuko sucks in a broken, sharp breath, mesmerized by how tiny and delicate they feel in his hands.
Zuko moves fast, purely off instinct, one hand firmly supporting and guiding the baby forward, through your shaking thighs, bringing them up against your chest. His other arm curls tightly around your middle, carefully pulling your exhausted body back against him before you can slump too far forward.
“Oh, Zuko.” The words break apart when you look down to see your baby’s scrunched, slightly blue face. Still. Not breathing. Horror blooms inside you and you panic. “Zuko?…Zuko!”
“I know, come on.” Zuko whispers roughly, his hand rubbing the baby’s back vigorously. “Let us hear you, come on.”
After a second that feels like an eternity, a wail pierces the air. Tiny, but strong. So strong. And loud.
You sob as your body sags in relief and exhaustion, and Zuko lets out a breathy laugh before his own tears burst free like a dam.
The baby slowly flushes to a healthy pink, and their bottom lip trembles. Zuko continues to rub her back, soaking in each moment like a sponge. And that’s when he notices.
“There it is. She’s okay. She’s perfect. Strong like her mother.” Zuko huffs, turning his attention down at you against his chest.
“She?” You barely whisper, smiling weakly. “She’s okay. She’s okay.” Each word comes out a little softer, a little more slurred.
He analyzes every line in your expression, every bead of sweat budding from your forehead. You look exhausted. You had just given everything to bring his child into the world, and it was his honor to witness it.
“You just…you did it, y/n.” Zuko watches as your eyes unfocus, and his chest tightens. “Hey. Stay with me.”
Zuko’s distant voice echoes in your head, and you concentrate to look at him. The pain is constant, an aching throb that stings hotter than venom.
“Tired…hurts.” You manage to mutter, glancing down at your baby squirming on your chest.
“I know, baby.” Zuko whispers, desperately comforting himself with the reminder that the best healer in the water tribe is sitting in his palace now. “You’re okay—Guard!” Zuko shouts the last word, looking over at the door of the bath room.
Hurried footsteps approach and stop just outside of the door. “Fire lord Zuko.”
“Get the physician! Bring Katara!” Zuko gives the order and returns his attention to you.
“At once, Fire Lord.”
Zuko sees your eyes flutter, and jostles you to keep you awake. “Stay awake, darling.”
You move against his chest, heavy eyes flicking down at the baby cooing against your chest. “Zuko. You…did it. Like you said.”
Relief pulses through Zuko when it registers, you’re speaking of what he said earlier. That he’d deliver the baby if he needed to. He smiles down at you, adjusting the hold he has around his entire world. “Yes, my Fire Lady. As promised.”
A slow tightening breaks your concentration, and you find yourself seizing up against him. A soft groan rumbles from you, and your eyes squeeze shut.
A contraction?
“What is it?” Zuko asks, panicked.
“The afterbirth.”
Katara appears breathless in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame and the other resting beneath the swell of her stomach. Aang lingers quietly behind her, relief relaxing his face.
“You’re okay, you did so well,” Katara reassures gently, already moving closer. Her eyes flick briefly to the baby and soften. “She’s beautiful. Just a little more, okay? Then you’re all done.”
The physician follows quickly behind, bowing once before moving to assist. Everything overlaps into one big blur around you.
Katara’s calm voice. Zuko’s hand never leaving you. The tiny warmth of your daughter, squirming against your chest. The physician’s quiet reassurance that she is healthy—her congratulations. But everything feels distant.
Distant but safe.
You focus on Zuko’s touch, and the babe that he’s now fully supporting against your bare chest as your arms fall limp either side of you.
“It was a good thing you were here,” Aang says quietly from the doorway.
Zuko barely hears him, because his attention never leaves you. Nor the tiny babygirl tucked safely against you.
“Yes,” Zuko says softly, brushing sweaty strands from your forehead.
Want to be stuffed with tentacles that pump, in and out, pushing past my cervix and fucking countless eggs into my womb, then fertilizing them with lots and lots of hot, intoxicating cum. Want to be high and delirious off it, my brain turned off, only aware of the eggs growing, writhing inside me, my skin pulling taut and then further still as the eggs expand over… hours? Days? Who knows. Want to feel my tits grow heavy and painful, feel my nipples become swollen and puffy. And then eventually, after what feels like an eternity of eggs and heat and neediness pooling within, I want to feel the rush of pain and pressure, and the intense, almost orgasmic release that comes when my water breaks, more liquid than has ever poured out of me before. I want to feel every inch of every egg as my body pushes them down, towards their entrances into the world. Want to feel the pressure mounting between my hips, then pressing into my cervix, opening and opening and coming down until it’s bulging out of me behind the lips of my cunt. Want to feel my legs shake as my lips finally start to part, burning as I realize just how much my tight hole is going to have to stretch. But the pain is pleasure, my moans with each contraction laced with eroticism, fueled by the eggs themselves, their membranes seeped in whatever sedative the creature’s sperm contained. Want to feel my legs spreading on their own as the massive egg widens my hole, my toes curling, my tits starting to leak simply from the force of each of my desperate pushes. Want to feel the pressure grinding against my clit from the inside, only intensifying as the egg approaches a crown. Gasping, breathing shakily as the widest part of the egg begins to breach my opening. Taking a moment to bask in the pleasure of the burn and the stretch. And then when the next contraction begins, pushing with all my might. Want to feel the first egg finally wrest free of me with a loud pop! And a long moan of pleasure on my lips, the release causing an orgasm to ripple through my entire body. Over and over and over again until the end, exhausted and with only a few eggs left to birth. Want to be sucked of effort to give, the sedation wearing off as there’s less and less of the eggs and their membranes to intoxicate me. Feeling the burn worsen each time a pulsing egg shoots out of my raw cunt. Until I don’t have anything left, so my body has to take over, pushing in short bursts as I fade in and out of consciousness. Falling asleep while my cunt stretches around the rim of an egg, where the widest part sits just inside me. Waking with a scream as a more intense contraction begins, my body pushing involuntarily, eyes opening as the final egg shoots out of me. Want to be panting, finally empty, drunk on my body’s hormones, when I feel the familiar touch of a tentacle, working its way back into my ruined cunt. Want to feel it push past my cervix again, still not yet closed after the days-long birth. Want to feel eggs, smaller this time (for now), but more numerous, deposited back into my newly-emptied womb, and want to feel myself fading into sleep again as the tentacle pulls out of me with a wet squelch, satisfied with having bred me again.
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The implications that someone is built for the purpose of breeding over and over, their belly swelling back to back. They never stay empty, making babies like it's their job.
And factories are good at building. They're good at carrying that bump around, waddling with those widened hips of theirs. They've got milk coming in gallons for fueling those babies they're crafting in their womb. They can handle the kicks and rolls, Braxton Hicks and cramps, aches and pains. They live for this.
Then the moment comes they spread their legs and show their handiwork, pushing out the labor of their passion. They spent months on this project and they'll deliver. After several pregnancies, babies just come out more easily, efficiently. Like a good baby factory.
The cycle continues. They're in double time with twins next time around. Twice the work and twice the satisfaction.
Being a baby factory is sexy. It's about being proud. It's about being damn good at breeding. Spreading their legs and getting to work.
