#sluttywaistenthusiast
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hi Peach IM BACK and i CANNOT get the cramps fic from dead disco au out of my head. like i need to know what happens after she slammed the door? like did they continue knocking? were they able to persuadr her to open the door and go to the hospital? did she let them back in? did she let them be at the birth? was she gonna keep bee or give it to simon and johnny? DEAD DISCO BRAINROT
🖤🖤 Takes place after this.
18+ mdni / baby trap au / twisty themes, angst, reader is pregnant, in labor.
"Darling, open the door." Simon calls, trying not to yell but still be loud enough to hear, no idea if you're even listening, or if you could hear him. He can't stop thinking about the look on your face, twisted in pain, panicked.
Something is wrong. Something is wrong, or you're in labor. And that has to be wrong, because if you're in labor, then you need to be in hospital.
"Darling, please. We want to help ye." Johnny tries. His voice breaks, and Simon closes his eyes, steeling himself against the pain there, the pain that he's inflicted on all of you, the misery and agony that has been their lives for the past six months. "We're not leavin!" He insists. Simon casually looks up and down the hallway, looking to see if anyone is around. He could, in theory, break the door down. He could force entry, even if he doesn't want to, if it's for your own good, he-
The lock clicks. Johnny darts for the handle, pushing the door open just enough to see that you're standing on the other side, a bag in one hand, the other laying flat against your belly. Your eyes are red, clearly distressed, and you look exhausted, and in pain, and all he wants to do is pull you into him and never let you go.
"Oh, darling." It's soft, and you shake your head.
"I only opened up because I knew you'd try to get in anyway." you hiss, stepping through the doorframe. He can't fault your logic there.
"What's goin' on?" Johnny tries, watching your hand shake as you put the key into the lock. "Talk to us."
"I think-" Your words grind to a stop, and you swallow like you might vomit before continuing. "My water broke. I'm in labor."
Many things happen at once. Johnny starts asking too many questions- when is your due date, how are you feeling, where is your doctor, did you call a cab, do you have a birthplan- as you stare at him, gobsmacked, and clearly stressed. Simon's heart free falls through his body, a million emotions ransacking his brain. Love. Happiness. Sadness. Fear. Anxiety. Anger, at himself. But one thing, one sentiment rings out over everything, it's truth written as plain as day across your face, panic sinking into your features as you try to process Johnny's questions. You need them. You need help.
"Johnny." Simon cuts him off, and and grinds to a halt, nodding in self awareness. You take a deep breath.
"I need to get to the hospital." You grit out. "But I don't want to call 999 because I don't need an ambulance. My contractions are still far enough apart." you insist, leveling them both with a hard stare.
"Would you like us to help you?" Simon asks gently, not trying to push. He knows, you'll come on your own. You would not have opened the door otherwise.
"I don't forgive you." You tell them both, looking them in the eyes. "But I- I don't think I can do this on my own. I- Ahh!" You yell this time, dropping your bag and almost kneeling until Johnny gets an arm around you, supporting your weight with his own.
"Okay, alright. We've got ye." Simon punches in the hospital address for the car as they both lead you down the stairs. Your building doesn't even have a working elevator, and he tries not to feel sick when he thinks about you walking up and down these flights every day with your belly and worse, with the baby in the future.
When they get you out the front door and into the car, Simon dials your doctor, who assures him you've already called. She asks him to time your contractions, and when he says they're about fifteen minutes apart, she gives him instruction before chastising him for not calling 999.
"Your doctor is there, and they'll be waiting to get you all checked in." He tries to reassure you, but you're so tense, locked up tight, he grimaces. "Darling?"
"What?" you grunt, closing your eyes.
"Are you breathing?" You're not. And when you realize, you let out a huge gulp of air, and slump in the seat.
You burst into tears a second later. Johnny is stricken.
"Hey, hey." He tries. "It's alright. We're on our way, everything is going to be okay."
"I'm ss-scared." you sob, and he nods sympathetically.
"I know darling, I know. But yer strong, ye can do this."
"I can't." you cry louder, and the driver looks at you in the mirror with concern before Simon glares at him and he jumps his eyes back to the road. "And it fuckin' hurts. What if it's too late to get the drugs? What if something goes wrong? I don't know how to be a mum, I don't even know how-"
"Darling." He can't do this. He can't watch you fall apart like this, in this mess that he created. He has to take control of this situation. "Look at me." You blink up at him with wet lashes, so sweet and sad, and he wants to kiss each tear from your face. "You can do this. No matter what happens, you are strong, you're a fighter, and you're going to be okay, alright?" Your lips part, and he can see your brain turning, mind working you into something a little more malleable.
"Okay." you sniffle, and then lean a little to the side. Your head tips back against his shoulder, and at the same time, you reach for Johnny's hand, squeezing it tight and tugging him closer, like you're trying to hold onto his entire arm. "Oh fuck." You groan.
"Contraction?" Johnny asks and you nod miserably.
"Deep breaths." Simon murmurs into your scalp. "In through your nose, just like that, good girl."
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