“Alright,” Rainych muttered, shifting on the exercise ball with a grunt. “Stream’s on. Mic check. Camera one—on me. Camera two—on your bloated ass, Knite.”

“Pregnant and rude,” Knite said, smirking as she pulled her hoodie sleeves up. “How’re you 41 weeks and still this bitchy?”

Rainych’s eyes flicked toward chat. It was already flooding with emotes. A little “🔥WaddleWar🔥” banner pulsed in the corner of the screen. Over two hundred thousand viewers were watching the feed go live.

She arched a brow. “How’re you carrying two breech twins and still pretending you’re winning this?”

Knite bounced once on the mat—high, her black pants tightening across her hips. Her heavy belly jostled under the hoodie, the taut curve of it pushing the fabric forward in one commanding bulge. “I don’t need to win. I just need to outlast you.”

Rainych snorted. Her hand pressed instinctively to the underside of her gravid belly, where the weight had started to drag low. “Macrosomia,” she muttered toward the mic. “Means fat-ass baby. Mine’s kicking my ribs and my cervix.”

Chat exploded.

“rainych leaking soon?” “knite boutta pop two water balloons 🫧” “who’s crowning first? bets on the breech behemoth”

“I’m eating the ghost peppers first,” Rainych said, grabbing the red dish in front of her. “And I’m not going easy.”

“Perfect,” Knite said. “The hotter you go, the faster you blow.”

The plate of bright red slices sat between them. Rainych grabbed one and bit down. She didn’t flinch.

Knite watched her chew with raised brows. “That one had seeds.”

Rainych swallowed. “All of them do.”

“Jesus.” Knite took one, hesitated, then shoved it whole into her mouth. Chewed once. “Mmfh—fuck—!”

Rainych’s smirk widened.

Her belly contracted. Not hard. Just a firm, pressing squeeze that made her shift her weight and hiss.

Knite clocked it. “You gettin’ tight already?”

“False labor,” Rainych said, rubbing low. “Happens all day. It’s cute you think that matters.”

Knite picked up another slice. “Let’s clean.”

Ten minutes later, they were squatting in sync—wiping baseboards, organizing wires under the desks, rearranging camera stands. Rainych’s shirt had pulled tight across her lower back. Her pink hijab clung to the back of her neck with sweat.

Knite was down on one knee, scooping old fan mail into a bin. “This is the dumbest shit we’ve ever done.”

“It’s your challenge,” Rainych grunted, squatting again. “Your rules.”

“I didn’t say you had to do it.”

“You said whoever holds her baby in longer wins.”

Knite paused. Her stomach was tightening.

Not just a clench. It rolled. She gripped the desk, breathing once—steady, shallow. Then laughed and pulled herself back upright.

“Mine are chill. They like games,” she said.

Rainych stood slowly, hand braced to her thigh. “Mine’s breech and pissed.”

Chat pinged hard.

“Rainy’s waddling like her waters boutta blow 😭😭” “knite’s got twins playin ping pong in there” “this is better than any birth vid I’ve ever paid for ngl”

Rainych sat again, legs wide, back arching to make room for the low-hanging weight of her belly. Her shirt had ridden up just enough to show the dark stretch of her underbelly—taut, full, glossy with sweat.

“Okay. Jump squats,” she said, voice lower now.

Knite raised a brow. “You serious?”

“Scared?”

Knite stood. “Get the mat. I’m not jumping on this hard floor.”

Rainych rose too. Slower. She swore under her breath as another contraction tugged deep in her lower back.

They jumped once. Twice. On the third, Rainych let out a breathy, “Haah—okay—”

“That didn’t sound fake,” Knite muttered.

Rainych’s jaw clenched. “It’s not active. I can still talk through them.”

Knite looked her over. Then jumped again—higher. She winced halfway down and palmed her side. “Mmngh—okay, that was a twofer.”

“Yeah?” Rainych looked almost pleased. “Babies getting ideas?”

“Shut up.” Knite leaned against the desk, breathing. “Just Braxton Hicks.”

Rainych eased herself back to the ball, wide-legged. One hand braced behind her, the other pressed to her vulva for just a second. “You’re leaking,” Knite said, watching the wet spot bloom.

Rainych glanced down, then back up. “Camera two didn’t catch that, did it?”

Knite grinned. “Oh it definitely did.”

Chat exploded again.

“SHE LEAKED” “WATERBENDING ACTIVATED 💦” “CLOSE UP CLOSE UP CLOSE UP”

Rainych exhaled, chest rising. “Still not labor. I’m fine.”

Knite’s brows lifted. “I give it two more jumps.”

Rainych didn’t jump again. She couldn’t if she tried.

She stayed planted on the ball, both hands gripping her thighs now. Her hips rolled. Not playful. Not performative. One long roll forward, then back. Then again, slower.

Knite crouched beside the mat, grabbing her water. Her hoodie clung damp across the curve of her belly. She adjusted it, then paused—frowned.

“You good?”

Rainych blew out a breath. “Nngh… think that one was real.”

Knite blinked. “Yeah?”

Rainych nodded once, then twice. “Low. Tight. Back to front.”

The chat box shifted.

“wait wait wait is it starting” “omg macrosomia mama’s about to pop 😳” “someone screenshot her face rn”

Rainych grimaced. “Still early. Don’t freak out.”

Her hips lifted again—off the ball this time. She rocked in the air, held the position, then dropped with a soft grunt. “Okay. Okay. That one wrapped around me…”

Knite’s brow furrowed. “Like contraction-wrap?”

Rainych nodded. “Mmhm. Wrapped and held. Not fake.”

Knite stayed quiet. Then: “...I’m gonna jump again.”

She didn’t even hit full height before she landed and doubled forward. “Oh—fuck—”

Rainych looked up fast. “What.”

Knite didn’t answer. Her hand clamped to her belly, one foot scrambling back as she grunted again.

“Was that real?”

Knite just breathed. “It’s low,” she hissed. “That one was… fuck. Deep.”

Rainych stood, legs wide, one hand on her desk. “Talk to me.”

Knite nodded slowly. Then again. “That one pushed.”

“What do you mean pushed?”

Knite didn’t answer right away. She braced her elbows to her knees, squatting with her hoodie riding up, belly out and domed hard. “Baby A shoved down.”

Rainych’s eyes widened. “You’re at thirty-eight weeks.”

Knite glared. “You’re at forty-one. Don’t play moral high ground now.”

Rainych gripped the desk harder. “Mmh—god—okay…”

“What.”

“I just got one too.”

“Another?”

Rainych didn’t answer. She lowered herself slowly to the mat. Sat back, legs open, belly massive and low between her knees. “It’s not stopping.”

Knite looked at her. Really looked.

Rainych’s face had gone still. Lips parted. One hand on her belly, the other slowly bracing between her legs. Her breathing was thin and fast.

“Rainy…”

Rainych didn’t blink. “It’s not tightening and releasing. It’s pressing.”

“Down?”

Rainych nodded once, sharply. “So much pressure. Like… like he’s right there…”

They stayed like that. Thirty seconds. Maybe a minute.

Knite stood slowly. Her body felt heavier now—weighted at the hips, not just the spine. “We need to pick,” she said. “Do we cut the stream or let them watch this.”

Rainych looked at the screen. Then straight into her camera.

“Heads up, chat. I think we’re going in.”

Knite pulled her hoodie off. Underneath, her black tank top was soaked along the hem, clinging to the full, high stretch of her belly. She moved stiffly now from instinct. 

“Okay. Mat’s clear. Keep it clean. I’m not birthing on dust bunnies.”

Rainych snorted and immediately winced. “Nnnngh—ohhh god—”

Knite’s head snapped toward her. Rainych was half-sitting, half-sprawled back, one leg drawn up.

Her voice had dropped—no longer joking. “That one was long,” she said. “Long and low and… fuck.”

“Was it pushy?”

Rainych hesitated. Then nodded. “Not full-on. But I needed to move. Couldn’t sit through it.”

Knite stepped close. “You okay if I start squatting again?”

Rainych waved a hand. “Do it. Just don’t fall on me.”

Knite grunted as she dropped into a deep squat. Her knees creaked. Her belly shifted forward—harder than she expected. Her eyes went wide.

“Oof—nnghh—ohh—that hit—”

Rainych looked at her. “Bad?”

Knite didn’t answer right away. She rocked forward, both hands to the floor.

Her breath caught.

Rainych’s eyes narrowed. “Knite?”

Knite’s voice was strained. “I think… baby A’s moving into my canal.”

Rainych sat upright. “Wait. Already?”

Knite braced to her hands and knees. “Fuck—it hurts—”

Chat pinged.

“she said canal holy shit it’s happening” “TWIN A DESCENDINGGG” “both of them boutta crown together 😭😭😭”

Rainych tried to shift, but the motion pulled another contraction from her—full-bodied, slow and grinding.

“Ahh—haaah—nngghhh—oh—”

She rocked back, one leg still bent, the other kicking slightly. Her hand flew between her thighs.

Knite looked up. “Are you pushing?!”

“No—maybe—I don’t know—he’s bearing down—”

Knite dragged herself upright, sweat dripping. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

Rainych barked a laugh. “Oh fuck you—”

“Not without me,” Knite panted. “If you’re crowning, I’m right there too.”

Rainych’s belly shifted—lower. She felt it. Her pelvis unlocked.

Then the smallest warm gush.

She looked down.

The wet was clear, slow, and steady.

“...Knite.”

Knite turned.

Rainych met her eyes.

“My water just broke.”

Rainych’s breath hitched sharp.

Then came the sound. A slick, wet plop right onto the mat.

She gasped.

“Shit—shit—shit—”

Knite scrambled over. Her hand barely brushed Rainych’s thigh before she saw it.

A thick gush of amniotic fluid had soaked through Rainych’s black pants and was now leaking down her inner thighs, puddling into the carpet under her. Her legs were open. Her back arched.

And her belly—still huge, still pulled forward—had dropped.

Rainych’s mouth was open. Her hands had flown behind her, bracing against the floor as she panted through it.

“Ahh—haaah—ngggh—he’s coming—I can’t—”

Knite knelt beside her. “You’re descending. I can see it. Are you pushing?”

“I’m not!” Rainych yelled. “He’s sliding—he’s doing it on his own—”

The camera caught everything: Rainych’s soaked pants stretched wide around her thighs, the dark wetness spreading as her pelvis tilted up, involuntary and desperate. She moaned again, louder now—raw and guttural.

Knite flinched at the sound.

Because her own belly tightened—hard.

She dropped to her knees.

“Oh—oh shit—oh fuck—Rainy—I feel his feet.”

Rainych’s eyes shot to her. “What?!”

“Baby A,” Knite gasped. “He’s breech—his feet are pushing into my canal—I can feel them stretching me—”

Rainych’s mouth opened again but no sound came out.

Then—

“NNNGHHH—oh god—oh fuck—”

She bore down.

It wasn’t planned.

Her body took over.

There was another thick squelch—then a scream.

“AAHHH—HE’S CROWNING—fuck—”

Knite crawled to her side, eyes wide.

Rainych’s pants were peeled back by her own thighs now—bunched mid-thigh, slicked with birth fluid. Her vulva bulged—glossy, spread, teardropping around the unmistakable round stretch of her baby’s head, thick and slowly opening her wider.

“Oh my god,” Knite breathed.

Rainych was crying now—face scrunched, hands gripping behind her knees. “It hurts—he’s huge—nnnnhhh—ohhhh—”

“Stay with it,” Knite said, breath shaky. “You’ve got the crown—he’s right there.”

Rainych shook her head wildly. “He’s not moving! He’s stuck—he’s just sitting there!”

Knite’s face twisted with a groan of her own. She rocked forward again, elbows hitting the floor.

“I—I think his feet are out,” she gasped.

Rainych blinked fast. “What?!”

Knite groaned. “He’s breech. He kicked out. I felt him slip through—his feet are just hanging in me—”

Her hand pressed under her belly.

Rainych’s voice pitched up again.

“Oh god—nnghh—he’s stretching me—aaaahhh—!”

Knite glanced down.

Rainych’s head was half-out—crowning thick, her lips stretched in a wet ring around the baby’s scalp. Fluids slicked down her thighs and pooled under her.

“Rainy—”

“DON’T TALK,” Rainych sobbed. “Push with me or shut up—”

Knite bit back a moan—then gasped.

The fullness was shifting.

“Okay—okay—fuck—I’m gonna push—I have to—”

They both bore down.

The stream captured everything—two bodies in tandem, one with a glistening crown peeking, the other with her twins' feet breaching and trembling in place.

“NNNGHHHH—haaah—fuck—it’s coming—he’s sliding again—”

Rainych’s voice broke.

And with a long, sticky squelch, her baby slipped further.

A wet plop, louder this time.

And the head—fully crowned.

Her lips stretched wide, her clit swollen and flushed, the head resting fully between her thighs with her perineum still taut and trembling.

“OOOHHH—oh my god—”

Knite was panting beside her.

She reached down between her own legs.

“Rainy—my baby’s dangling.”

Rainych was still open—wide, dripping, breath hitching with every tiny tremble of the head between her thighs. Her body refused to finish. The crown sat there—glistening, round, stretching her soft and slow.

She gasped.

“Fuck—he’s stuck—won’t move—”

Knite glanced up, red-faced, hips twitching. She was still bent forward, both knees shaking.

“You need a contraction—”

“I need to come,” Rainych snapped.

Her hand slid fast between her thighs. Middle and ring fingers pressed hard to her clit, slippery with birth fluids, already so swollen it bounced under the pressure.

Knite froze. “You’re—serious?”

Rainych moaned—head rolling back, chest heaving.

“I need it—he’s not sliding—he’s sitting in me like a plug—oh god—oh fuck—”

Her other hand went to her breast, groping under the soaked striped shirt. She tugged her bra down, pinched one nipple hard.

The effect was immediate. Her thighs twitched. Her hips rocked.

Knite could see it—the way Rainych’s labia flexed, the top of the baby’s head pulsing with each shallow roll.

“Oh—haaah—aaaah fuck—yes—more—”

She rolled her clit faster, moaning deep now, nipples tight, belly contracting.

Knite whimpered.

Because the sight of it—the primal mess of it—made her own canal clench.

Her baby shifted again—feet twisting, hips stretching.

“Oh fuck—I feel him turning—he’s going shoulders down—”

Rainych groaned louder. “Do it—play with it, Knite—get him out—ahh—nnnnghh—!”

Knite’s hand slid between her legs.

She wasn’t graceful. She was panting, messy, soaked in sweat and birth fluids, but she found her clit and rubbed. Hard.

Rainych cried out again—voice cracking. “YES—FUCK—YES—I’m coming—”

The orgasm crashed through her.

Her belly clenched.

Her hips bucked.

And the baby slid out—shoulders first, thick and slow, then the chest, soft ribs stretching her open with a loud, wet squelch.

“NNNNGH—AAAHHHHH—”

A slippery pop, then a long, glossy slide between her thighs.

The body dropped with a gushy plop onto the mat, limbs curled, cord still pulsing.

Rainych collapsed back, gasping, tears streaking her cheeks.

“...holy fuck…”

Knite moaned sharply.

Her orgasm hit mid-push—her legs spread, toes curling, and her baby’s hips forced wide open with the pressure.

“AHH—AAHHH—he’s turning—he’s coming—*he’s fucking coming—”

She bore down, both hands gripping her thighs, her body arching off the floor.

Feet, then legs.

Then hips, twisting sideways.

And then—*

A fat bulge between her cheeks.

Her own baby crowned from the butt, feet dangling, body halfway out.

“Rainy—he’s halfway—oh god—I’m coming again—ngghh—”

Rainych blinked fast, breath coming in short, erratic bursts. Her baby lay slippery and steaming between her thighs, one tiny fist twitching, mouth parting to cry.

Her hands were trembling as she scooped him up.

He was still attached—cord glistening, thick and pulsing from her raw, gaping slit.

Rainych didn’t care.

She shifted back slowly, shoulders braced, thighs spread wide as she dragged herself to lean against the desk leg. The move angled her hips up—exposing everything.

Her pussy was blown wide, flushed and glistening, with the cord still trailing between her folds. Past it, deep inside, the dark flush of placenta hadn’t moved yet—fat, soft, still clinging.

She brought the baby to her chest.

He latched with one little snuffle, lips sealing around her nipple. Her shirt was half off. The hijab pushed back. Milk leaked down his chin.

And her pussy stayed open.

Fully in frame.

Chat exploded.

“SHE’S STILL ATTACHED 😳” “cord in pussy cam 😭😭” “baby feedin placenta peakin we LIVE”

Rainych glanced sideways. “Camera two’s got the whole thing?”

Knite, still on hands and knees, nodded shakily. “Yeah. You’re… fuck… you’re wide.”

Rainych smirked faintly. “Don’t be jealous.”

Knite groaned. “I’m not jealous. I’m crowning.”

Rainych looked down.

Knite had rolled onto her back, black pants shoved to her knees. Her belly was still full with Baby B, but between her thighs, Baby A’s body hung slick and limp—shoulders out, chest resting on the mat.

And her pussy?

It was stretched.

Wide. Glossy. Twitching.

The head was almost out—but not quite.

Just the upper face: one closed eye, nose flattened, the curve of the forehead lodged tight against her rim.

Rainych stared.

“Ohhh fuck—he’s stuck.”

Knite gasped. “It’s so much—he won’t slide—he’s wedged—”

Rainych reached one hand down again, rolling her own nipple gently as the baby suckled.

“Try again,” she said. “Touch yourself.”

Knite’s head snapped sideways. “What?”

“You need to come again.”

Knite’s legs twitched. “I can’t—he’s in me—his face is in me—”

“Exactly,” Rainych said, voice low. “He’s making you feel everything.”

Knite whimpered.

Her hand slid down anyway.

She rubbed her clit once.

Twice.

Then gasped.

“Ohh—ohhhh fuck—”

Rainych watched.

Watched the way Knite’s fingers moved faster, the way her hips rolled involuntarily, the way her pussy clenched around that stuck, slippery head—

—and then opened wider.

Knite moaned.

Louder.

Her whole body trembled.

And as her orgasm hit—

“NNNNNGHHHH—AAAHHH—YES—”

—Baby A slid free.

A thick, gushing squelch echoed off the mat.

Head, then neck, then body, all at once.

Rainych laughed, breathless.

“That’s how you win.”

Knite lay sprawled, legs wide, pussy still twitching, fluids slicking the inside of her thighs. The baby lay between her knees, still attached, his head steaming against the cool air.

She blinked at the camera.

Chat went feral.

“TWINS COMING IN HD 💦” “god i wish that were me fr” “rainy with the cord cam knite with the facestuck finale?? we been blessed”

Rainych looked down at her still-leaking pussy, placenta bulging faintly inside.

“Don’t end the stream yet,” she said. “We haven’t shown them everything.”

Rainych moaned low, head tilted back, her baby still nursing, her pussy still parted around the thick cord.

Then—

A pressure shift. Deep and dull.

She gasped. “Placenta’s *coming—nnnghh—”

She braced again, both legs spread wide, fingers splayed behind her. Her core contracted—wet and slow—and with a long, sticky slide, the placenta slithered free.

It landed on the mat with a fat, sloppy plop, the cord still twitching, a trail of fluid seeping from her wide, quivering folds.

“God. That was huge. It felt so good… I think I just came again a little…”

Knite whimpered from the floor.

“Mine’s not even close to done.”

Rainych looked over.

Knite’s thighs were shaking. Baby A was now latched to her chest, greedily suckling, but her belly was still taut—full.

Then it shifted.

A huge lurch, forward and down.

Knite’s whole body spasmed.

“AHHH—he’s dropping! Baby B—he’s coming now—!”

Rainych crawled toward her. “Okay—okay—don’t fight it. You need to push.”

“I can’t!” Knite gasped. “He’s bigger—he’s so much bigger—”

Rainych glanced under her.

Her jaw dropped.

Knite’s pussy was swelling wide again—already bulging—but this time with a massive breech.

One ass cheek first. Then the other.

He wasn’t waiting.

Rainych scooped her baby and settled him between Knite’s breasts.

“Let him latch. He’ll help.”

Knite groaned, nipple already leaking. Rainych’s baby rooted immediately, mouth catching instinctively.

The moment his lips sealed, her womb tightened.

“NNNGHH—OH FUCK—he’s sliding—I’m gonna burst—”

Rainych reached into the drawer behind her and pulled out a small pink vibe. With a smile, she clicked it on and it hummed to life. 

“Lift your hips,” she ordered.

Knite moaned. “Rainy—what are you—”

“Trust me.”

Rainych pressed the vibrator directly to her clit.

Knite screamed.

“YES—YES—FUCK—OH MY GOD—”

Her pussy clamped hard. Then bloomed.

Baby B shot forward.

Hips and legs expelled in a sudden, gushing eruption—amniotic fluid spraying across the mat, splashing both their thighs, soaking Knite’s hoodie in a wide, wet arc.

“AHHH—HE’S STILL IN ME—HIS HEAD—STUCK—”

Rainych didn’t let up.

She circled the vibe harder, faster, watching Knite’s body quake.

“You need to come again. It’s the only way.”

Knite sobbed, helpless, pinned wide.

“I—fuck—I’m gonna—I can’t—”

“YES you can—feel him—ride it—let it go—”

Knite’s scream built in her chest.

She came again—hard—legs locking, back arching off the floor.

And with that final, explosive climax—

Baby B’s head shot out in a burst of thick, hot fluid.

It splashed against the mat, droplets hitting Rainych’s calves.

The baby lay sprawled, twitching, pink and covered in vernix.

Rainych clicked the vibe off and Knite collapsed back. 

Everything went still except the soft suckling noises from both babies—one on each of Knite’s breast.

Rainych reached for Baby B and patted its back until it cried and she latched it onto one of her engorged, leaking breasts. Knite’s body was wrecked. Beautiful. Still quivering. Her pussy still slack, open, the twins’ cords twitching against her leg. The room was soaked — bodies, mats, carpet, clothes — drenched with sweat and birth and milk and slick.

And the camera was still on.

Still blinking red.

Still live.

Chat had detonated.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME 😭😭😭😭” “pussy cam? cord cam? MILK CAM??” “give these queens an award. an OSCAR. a BIRTH NOBEL”

Rainych blinked, Baby B still latched on to her breast, when reached toward the laptop, fingers shaky, her thigh still leaking where the placenta had slid free earlier. 

The “Tip Jar” window was flooding—lines and lines of usernames and numbers, every second a new chime.

She stared.

“Knite.”

Knite didn’t open her eyes. “Mm?”

Rainych laughed. “We cleared six digits.”

Knite blinked up at the ceiling. “Holy fuck.”

They both started giggling. Too breathless to control it. Still twitching, bodies wrecked, tits out, cords attached, babies suckling lazily on both chests.

Rainych wiped her forehead. “Thank you, chat,” she panted. “We don’t deserve you.”

Knite grinned. “We really don’t.”

Rainych sat up straighter. The vibe was still beside her knee, slick and silent. The room smelled like milk, sex, and afterbirth.

She squinted at the stream comments, scanning for something coherent.

Then read aloud: “One of them said... ‘Do it again.’”

Knite tilted her head. “Again?”

Rainych looked over at her. Then grinned. “Yeah.”

Knite snorted. “God.”

Another tip pinged.

Then another.

The suggestion kept repeating.

“GET KNOCKED UP AGAIN” “REMAKE THE STREAM BUT BIGGER” “RACE TO TRIPLETS”

Rainych met Knite’s eyes.

“We doing this?”

Knite let her head fall back with a groan.

Then grinned.

“Fuck it. I’ll find a donor tomorrow.”

Rainych laughed, still out of breath.

“Same.”

They both looked at the camera, tits out, cords still hanging, mats soaked in birth.

Rainych winked.

“See you again in ten months.”

--------

Hope you enjoyed reading this commissioned story!

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Thank you all again—here’s to more stories, more milestones, and maybe… more babies? 😉

Much love, Drew