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here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

Text

deep end (explicit)

genre: pwp / domestic-ass smut hehe 💕

pairing: namjoon x reader (ft. no gendered language! bc lots of people get periods!)

summary: your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.

word count: 4.2k

contains: explicit sexual content ~*~*~ established relationship, boyfie joon in a hoodie/glasses/with stubble (yes that's a warning), they use the term 'baby' a lot because it's me writing joon duh, some minor implications that menstruation is gross (from reader) (buuuut they get over it lol), 🩸period sex🩸, nipple play, fingering and clit stim, joon has a monster cock bc of course he does, size kink, bulge kink, he's all up in their cervix, reader has a.... cervical orgasm which might just be an a-spot orgasm my googling was inconclusive whatever none of you care - a good mix of fluff and playful bickering, the ending is soft 🫠

A/N: JOON HOES I HAVE RETURNED FOR YOU 🫡 it's been too long, so please take one of my favorite things i've ever written as my very sincere apology. idk this really just flowed out (no pun intended ksdjhgdfsdf) and i had a lot of fun with it, i heart bodies doing body things yknow. shout-out to my period for being extra bad last month and inspiring this.... it's called MANIFESTING amiright besties 💅✨ i hope y'all enjoy!!!! would love to hear your thoughts if you did 🥺💜

and all the love in the world to @haliiimede for betaing and being my emotional support capricorn, where would i be without you my love

read on AO3 !

~*~

The hinges of the bedroom door creak softly as it’s pushed open, and you glance up.

You’re where you’ve been for as long as social responsibilities will allow you to hide from the world and futilely attempt an afternoon nap: curled up on your side, knees pressed tight to your chest, gritting your teeth through each fresh round of stabbing pain. It’s worse than usual this month, for no discernible reason, which is stupid.

Namjoon leans against the doorframe, domestic-cozy-cute in the way that usually makes you want to jump him, glasses and a hoodie. He can’t help but smile sympathetically when he notices your arms are wrapped around an emotional support Koya plushie.

“You okay?”

You wince. “Cramps. I’ll be fine.”

There’s a flutter of mattress springs and bed sheets as he sits down at your side. “Is today the worst of it?” You nod. “Did you take your stuff?”

You smush your cheek against the top of Koya’s head, nuzzling into the soft fabric, tactile comfort. “Yes.”

“Extra-strength?”

“Yes, Joon,” you snap. “I’ve been having periods since I was twelve, I know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, baby.”

You feel guilty as soon as the exasperation-tinged words leave your mouth. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. Just… fucking hurts.”

He tries again. “Heating pad?”

“Worked for a bit, but I got too hot.” Your feet kick frustratedly under the blankets. “I’m ready for winter.”

Namjoon laughs at this. “Does that mean too hot for some company?”

The corners of your pouted mouth just barely start to pull up as you pretend to think it over. “…No.”

“Okay then.” He pushes back the sheets to slide in next to you, removing his glasses and reaching over to deposit them on the nightstand. He smells good, clean laundry and woody cologne. You don’t fight him when he moves to gently pry Koya out of your hands.

“Get out of here,” he murmurs, and you laugh in surprise when he unceremoniously flings the plushie across the room.

“Hey!”

“We don’t need him,” Namjoon says with a smug smile as he adjusts the blankets so he can settle in behind you.

Just the presence of him pressing into your back, big and solid and familiar, makes you start to unwind. His hand slips under your oversized t-shirt to rest on your low belly, fingertips dipping beneath the band of your underwear to gently trace over your skin. The warmth is nice— you feel yourself melt a little under his touch.

“You know what’s good for cramps?” He asks softly. You hum a response, prompting him to continue, and he does. “Orgasms.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to press your face into the pillow. “Vibrator’s dead.”

“Do you want me to plug it in?”

You make a sound that isn’t a clear yes or no, debating internally, then finally answer. “Don’t leave.”

He doesn’t. “What can I do then?”

The answer is immediate, paired with a dry laugh. “You can put me out of my misery.”

Namjoon shakes his head, tuts a little. “Can’t do that. But maybe I can help another way.”

The hand on your stomach slowly starts to slide further up, over your waist and rib cage, coming to cup one of your breasts. He gives it a tentative squeeze. “Sore?”

You shrug. “A little.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

His thumb starts to move, tracing slow, lazy circles over your nipple, coaxing the soft bud to a peak.

You let your eyes flutter closed and allow this sensation to overtake the others, enough to pull an appreciative noise out of you. “Nnh— feels good.” Your voice comes out nearly a whisper.

“Good.”

He wiggles his hips a little in response, and you can’t help but laugh when you feel something firm press against your ass. “How are you hard right now?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling, and you shift to turn onto your back so you can see him properly. It doesn’t hurt that it also gives him a better angle to play with both of your breasts— a second hand quickly finds its way up your shirt. “Everything turns you on.”

Namjoon shrugs, unbothered. “With you, yeah.”

“But…” You shift your legs vaguely under the sheets, knowing he’ll understand what you mean. “It’s gross.”

“How?”

The feeling of his fingers gently flicking over both of your nipples simultaneously makes your brain lag. “Uh— dirty.”

“Not true.”

Your eyes flutter shut again as you try to keep up with the conversation despite the heat of arousal that’s starting to swell in your gut, and lower. “Okay, messy.”

“All sex is messy,” Namjoon says, like it’s a given.

You huff a noise of frustration, glancing over at him. “Stop being obtuse. It’s different.”

“I’m not,” he insists. “It just sounds like you have some unnecessary shame. It’s a natural thing.”

“Natural,” you deadpan back. “You’re a hippie.”

He smiles. “Maybe.”

The admission is paired with a light pinch to your nipples, and you inhale sharply, biting back a whimper. “A freak.”

His laugh is soft and deep. “Sure. Have you fucked on your period before? I know we haven’t, but— ever?” You shake your head into the pillow. “Might feel good. They say it helps.”

You scoff at this. “Yeah, I bet ‘they’ all have dicks.”

“We don’t have to.”

Namjoon pauses, as if waiting for you to make a decision. You can’t ignore the way his hands on your tits have worked up a steady pulse between your legs.

“…You’ve done it before?” You squeeze your thighs together as you ask the question.

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“And it wasn’t gross?”

“No, baby. It’s just a—”

“Do not say fluid,” you interrupt with a grimace.

He quirks an eyebrow. “An output.”

“Actually, I think that’s worse.”

A smile blooms on his face, dimples popping, his hands jiggling your breasts. Playful. “It’s free lube.”

You laugh despite yourself. “We’ll mess up the sheets.”

“We’ll put down a towel,” he corrects. “And if we do, I’ll wash them.”

You pause for a moment, considering. “Promise?” There are few things more torturous than the idea of doing laundry on your period.

“Yes, baby,” Namjoon assures you, his gaze roaming over your face. “But I don’t wanna force you. If you feel that bad, let’s just watch a movie.”

You narrow your eyes at him, unable to hide your smile. “Nuh-uh.” You scoot a little closer, rolling in to hitch a leg over him, your socked foot teasing up the back of his calf. “You played with my tits too much. No turning back now.”

The answer makes him cocky, his tongue briefly toying at the corner of his mouth when he smirks. “I’m not scared.” His voice is deeper, darkened by lust, enough to send a shiver through you.

You tilt your jaw up towards his mouth. “Kiss me.”

His lips are soft and warm when they press to yours, and you tip onto your back again, his knees and forearms sinking into the mattress as he follows to cover your body with his.

Your palms slip under his hoodie to slide up over the smooth, defined muscles of his stomach, the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue flutters over your lower lip, and your hands trace back down to the hem, bunching the thick fabric up in your fists.

“Take this off.”

Namjoon smiles against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, his hands still pawing under your shirt. “Bossy today.”

You tug at his hoodie again for emphasis, earning a pinch to your nipples in response. “You like it.”

“I do.”

“Off.”

He sits up on his knees, untangling himself from under your shirt to strip, and you do the same. You can see the imprint of his dick already straining against the thin fabric of his joggers, and you reach up to slip your fingers under the waistband, running your palm down the length of him over his briefs. There’s a new kind of ache in your core now.

“These too.”

He laughs a little. “Okay, baby. And do you wanna—”

You follow his gaze to stare down at your own sweatpants. “Yeah, let me just. Bathroom.”

Namjoon leans forward, so his mouth ghosts over yours when you sit up. “I’ll get the towels.” He sucks gently on your bottom lip when he kisses you. It’s enough to leave you breathless.

You do your best not to overthink it as you slip into the bathroom and go through the motions. Sweatpants off, underwear too, pad discarded, attempt to clean up a little. You move fast, trying not to leak. The blankets are pushed to the foot of the bed when you return to the bedroom, brown towels laid over the sheets, even a box of tissues on the nightstand.

Namjoon has kicked off his pants and underwear, one hand lazily pumping himself as he turns to face you, muscles in his forearm shifting from the motion.

You lick your lips appreciatively. His cock is flushed dark, hard, already wet at the tip. The thought of him dripping precum just from setting out towels and tissues makes you giggle a little as you climb into bed— a Virgo through and through.

The mattress shifts as he crawls over you, letting go of himself to trace a slow hand up your thigh, over your hip, to finally settle at your waist. “Still okay?”

You nod and pull him down.

He kisses you more fervently this time, and you tilt your head to lick into his mouth, your breath edged with a moan when your tongues pass over each other. You run your hands along his back, nails scratching gently, as his lips move to brush against your jaw, then nibble at your ear.

“How do you want it, baby?” Namjoon’s voice goes straight to your cunt, thick and dripping like honey.

Your mind swims as you try to answer the question, and you instinctively bring your knees to your chest, not unlike the way you were curled up in bed earlier. You pull them apart a little, spreading yourself for him, nowhere to hide. Heat blooms in your face as his eyes trace your body down to your pussy, and he hums softly.

You suck in a breath at the barely-there brush of contact, his slender fingers tracing over your folds. “Is it bad?”

“It’s perfect. It’s you.” You bite down on your lip, not quite willing to believe it’s that simple. “Can I touch you?” You nod again. He groans a little in the back of his throat when he presses in. “Fuckin’ wet.”

“Joon,” you gasp. Your cunt flutters around his finger, tender, as if to suck him further in. He adds a second, sliding easily, and you can feel the way he curls inside to pet long strokes over the ridges of your front wall, made supple from sensitivity. The pleasure sends a shower of sparks through you, and your spine arches. You squeeze your eyes shut as they roll back in your skull.

“This okay?”

You reach up to dig your fingernails into his arms, his biceps flexing under your touch. “’Sgood, baby. More.”

“More fingers?”

You shake your head, eyes flickering open to meet his. “Cock.”

It’s both dirty and domestic, doing it in broad daylight, the bedroom drenched in mid-afternoon sun that pours between the cracked window blinds. No shadows to disguise it, no questioning the color painted over Namjoon’s fingers when he withdraws, dark red.

Your discomfort feels like an afterthought compared to how badly you want him now. He pauses to wipe the excess off on the towel beneath you, free hand guiding the still-slick tip of his cock to brush over your folds, teasing.

You can’t help but whimper. “Baby.”

With a soft grunt, he does it again, more purposefully now— the whole of this thick cock grinding over your slit, both of you smeared messy with arousal and flushed warm from blood-flow.

You press yourself up on your forearms in time to see him wrap his hand around the base and slide it in. He pushes slow, but you’re wet enough that he can slip right to the hilt without resistance, and your jaw goes slack as you watch all of him disappear up inside you.

“Ah, Joon—” you hiss a little as he bottoms all the way out, fucks in until there’s no space left between you.

He stills his hips, eyes flitting up to find yours. “Hurts?”

You shake your head and whine softly. The stretch was easier than normal, actually. “Just, nnh— full.” Letting your head drop back on the pillow, you breathe a laugh. “You’re fucking big.”

He’s nearly wincing. “You’re swollen, baby. Makes it feel like more.”

The pressure of being filled blooms thick, indulgent, a sensation you can feel all the way down to the soles of your feet, every inch of you plugged up with his cock. You lick your lips and try to speak.

“Can you move?”

Namjoon flashes a dimpled smile, suddenly shy. “Hang on.” He scrunches his nose a little, eyes rolling up briefly to fix at a spot on the wall behind you. You can hear the strain in his voice. “Trying not to come.”

Your eyes go wide. “Really? Are you a teenager?!”

He huffs an indignant laugh, face flushing. “It’s like a fucking flood down there! And you’re extra tight… So damn, give me a second.”

Giggling a little, you reach up to loop your arms around his shoulders, fingernails lazily scratching at the nape of his neck, combing through his dark hair that’s gotten so long. He exhales a slow stream of air as he closes his eyes for a moment, then blinks them open again with a smile.

“Okay. You okay?”

You hum. “The pressure is… it’s good. Think it’s helping.” Your cramps have started to subside, or at least you’re not focused on them.

“It’s not too much, all the way in like this?” He circles his hips experimentally, which makes the head of his cock press firmly against your cervix.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and you feel him reflexively start to pull out, paired with a concerned look flashed over his face. You smack a hand to his lower back to stop him, to hold him still.

“Please, Joonie, don’t— it felt good. Just, ah, keep doing that.”

“You squeezed me so hard. Thought I hurt you.” He rolls his hips again and you both groan softly. “Shit, baby, look down.” Namjoon’s voice is slightly hoarse.

You tilt your head up to see an unmistakable bulge in your lower abdomen that shifts as he ruts his hips into you again. You gasp at the rush of pleasure and the visual of his cock so deep inside you.

“You like that?” You swallow hard and nod at his question, whimpering as he brings one hand up to gently press down around his girth. A mixture of pleasure and relief floods through you, and you moan. “Like it when I’m in your stomach, baby?”

Your head drops back against the pillow. “Fuck” is the only answer you can give as he keeps moving his hips.

It takes you by surprise when you feel the brush of his lips over yours, and you tilt up to deepen the kiss instinctively. “So damn sexy,” he murmurs into your mouth. For a minute, you let the rest go, and allow yourself to believe him.

Namjoon falls into a consistent rhythm, cock grinding into your cervix so steadily that it makes it impossible for you to bite back your moans. He keeps one hand splayed over your stomach to meet himself there, and your cunt squeezed in between feels liable to overflow, on the verge of splitting open.

“Nnh, shit, Joon, that feels so good.” It’s like he’s pressing up on your lungs now— you can hardly breathe, dizzy with pleasure.

Fucking is somehow more intimate this way, taking him as deep as you can go and keeping him there, his shallow flutter-thrusts rocking slow and heavy for your shared sensitivity. Trading lazy kisses and stilted breaths and pretty sounds into each other’s open mouths. The press of his broad hands into your skin and the towel-guarded mattress, the wet squish of your folds on the base of his cock.

“God,” Namjoon groans, breath ghosting over your lips. “This perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

Without warning— or maybe in response— your walls start to pulse, and then the dam of steadily built-up pleasure bursts, a rush so intense that you can only gasp and dig your nails into Namjoon’s shoulders. “Joon, Joon—” You clarify when his brow creases with concern: “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You think you might die if he does.

He keeps going, barely-there strokes that rub the thick head of his cock into you over and over, and you cry out as you come fully undone.

A strange new feeling lights you up like a live wire, warmth radiating through your body as contractions squeeze your pussy so tight you swear you see stars when you close your eyes.

Namjoon curses under his breath, your whole body shaking beneath him as he works this surprise orgasm all the way out of you, until your thighs reflexively pull together and he stills his motions again.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, turning your head to press your cheek into the pillow. You slowly start to come down through the aftershocks, a lingering buzz glittering in your fingertips from the weight of his cock still crammed up inside you.

Namjoon’s large hands pet up the backs of your thighs, trailing soft heat. “You good, baby? That was crazy.”

“I-I just—” You exhale in an attempt to catch your breath, and it turns into a laugh as your eyes flicker open. “I didn’t know I could come from that. Fuck.”

He cracks a smile. “Sensitive. How’s it feel?” He leans forward to seek a kiss and you return it, nuzzling along the line of his jaw once you break apart. His stubble drags against your cheek, not unpleasant, and you shiver a little.

“I don’t know, I just had a crazy fucking… cervix orgasm,” you tease. “I’d say it’s pretty good.”

“Just don’t want it to hurt.”

“It doesn’t,” you murmur into his mouth. “So fuck me?”

You both moan when Namjoon begins to properly move, thrusting slow and deep-deep, your pussy clinging tight to him on the upstroke. You’re wet enough to gush when he fucks back in— just the sound of it makes your head spin. Your clit aches, so worked up untouched that it’s starting to throb.

“Baby,” you whine. “Touch me. Wanna come again. Please.”

He hums a soft noise of surprise, eyebrows raising, hips worked up to a steady rhythm now. “Already?” His lips press to yours again, and a sly smile spreads across them as he pulls back. “Needy.”

You huff a laugh, leaning up for another kiss, insatiable. “I said please.”

Namjoon earns a whimper out of you this time when his tongue swipes into your mouth, and he’s a little breathless when he breaks away. “I like you needy. I’ll keep you in this bed all day, if that’s what you want.”

“I—nnh—” you lose the thread of mid-sex conversation entirely as he shifts to free one hand and bring the pad of his thumb to your clit, flicking down firmly at a pace to match his strokes. “Fuck, Joon.”

Your hands grasp at the pillow beneath your head, fingers sinking in to grip desperate. He’s pounding heavy into your g-spot now, your legs spread wide and back arched up to take it.

It’s so good, it’s overwhelming, warm glow all the way through you. Arousal drips from your cunt to make the squelch of his strokes even messier. His hips are unrelenting, and your thighs start to shake from the pleasure, amplified with every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“Just—” You can barely speak, have to gasp for air after the first word, “—just like that.”

“Baby,” Namjoon’s voice comes out hoarse, in the way it does when he’s close, too. The bed creaks from the weight of his strokes. “So damn tight, so soft, can you feel it?”

A whine and a nod are all you can manage. You can feel him everywhere, down to the details, the fat veins that run the length of his cock molded to your walls, pulsing velvet heat. Your cunt melts lush around him, wet and raw as he fucks you apart. He rubs you in time to bring you over the edge again, and you’re helpless to it, can only let out a strangled sob of a noise as you tense up and come hard.

Namjoon’s thumb keeps circling, hips keep rocking, working you through it and groaning low in his throat for the way your cunt clenches up around him. Your nails dig into the pillow as you shudder and gasp.

“That’s it, shit, baby. Tight little pussy, gonna make me come too, fuck.”

With a grunt of effort, he pulls out, one hand reaching down to stroke his cock as he comes, thick ropes of his release painting your stomach in milky gloss. Your cunt pulses around nothing, hot pleasure aftermath, twitching sensitive.

Fucked to oblivion, you collapse against the mattress, feeling spent and heavy-all-over. Your head is still spinning, enough that you’re only distantly aware of the way Namjoon’s ragged breathing softens at the edges and starts to dissolve into gentle laughter.

Your eyes blink open to see him leaning over you, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

“Good thing I grabbed these,” he remarks as he lifts up his red-stained palm.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight. “Oh my god, Joon.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up enough for a dimple to wink back at you as he goes through a couple tissues to clean himself up. “Relax, baby. It really doesn’t bother me.” He pulls a few more loose from the box to deal with the mess on your stomach. “Just wanna point out that you don’t mind when I come on you.”

You huff. Smart-ass. “It’s different.”

“Is it?” He challenges. “It’s just bodies being bodies. Byproducts of the human condition.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “You’re a poet.”

“Maybe.” His clean hand smacks playfully against your thigh, jiggling the soft skin there. “Shower time.”

The whine that escapes you sounds pathetic, even to you. Movement of any kind feels impossible. “I won’t make it.”

“Come on.” You yelp and grab to wrap the towel beneath you over your waist as Namjoon scoops you up in an effortless bridal carry and heads for the bathroom. He turns the shower on with his foot as you cling to him for dear life, but he somehow manages not to drop you.

When he deposits you onto still-shaky legs, you let the towel drop to the bathroom floor. The water is scalding when you step into the shower, the way you both like it. Crowding you under the spray, he reaches for the washcloth and squirts a liberal amount of body wash into the fabric, infusing the steam with eucalyptus and mint. It feels like you can breathe a little deeper.

One large hand comes to your hip under the water as he works up a lather. “Turn around.”

You can feel the staining at the crux of your thighs, dry and sticky, as you shift unsurely in place. “Nnh,” you pout. “Can I rinse first?”

“Nope. Tryna take care of you, so let me.”

Scrunching your nose for dramatic effect, you turn for him. When the washcloth passes over your skin, his touch is so gentle, so immediately overwhelming, that emotion bubbles up before you can stop it. There’s nothing you can do to hide the way your shoulders start to shake as tears spill down your face.

It takes a second, and then you feel his motions slowly come to a stop. “Baby?”

You shake your head, embarrassed, bringing your arm up to wipe at your nose. “‘m fine. Emotional. Ignore me.”

“I can’t do that.” He rights himself, and the fingertips of his free hand trace the line of your jaw, encouraging your gaze to meet his. “Talk to me, please.”

Another fat droplet slides down your cheek, and his thumb catches it. You inhale, trying to catch your breath, and your chest shudders. “It just. Feels like too much, sometimes. Like I don’t deserve it.” You gesture broadly. “Everything, you. I don’t know.”

Namjoon frowns a little as he momentarily drapes the washcloth over the edge of the tub. “C’mon, don’t think like that.”

When he pulls you in, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace, tears flowing freely as his strong arms press you close. You know he’ll let you ride it out, the same way you do with him.

His lips brush over your hairline. “You’re good to me, wanna be good back,” he explains, voice low. “That’s all.”

Your cheek rubs against the hard plane of his chest as you nod.

“You’re so good to me, Joon. Too good.”

“Nah.” You don’t even have to look up to know he’s smiling— you can hear it in his voice. “You’re easy to love.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader

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sgt-morgan · 2 years ago

Text

The Test 🍼

Summary: Part 3 of the Robbin Trilogy uh oh… cardinal rule of premarital sex is wrap it before you tap it, but Robin and Matt seemed to have fucked that up.

Warnings: alludes to the adult tango, Robin cusses like a sailor, Childbirth, Labor, babies. AFAB and female identifying reader. Mentions of Jen Walter’s. No angst.

A/N: based on my bestie’s labor journey, yes we really did do some of these things, and yes, labor lasts forever.

Pt.1 Guessing Game

Pt.2 Robbin Bites Back

DD Masterlist

You couldn’t fucking believe it. You’d been with Matt for a good solid seven months. Seven months of joyful bliss with your devil man, your law work, and all your new friends (normal and vigilante). You had attended a wedding, (Marci made a lovely, if not very over the top bride. She was also surprisingly a great law partner.) you’d met your friends families (Moonknight has a very lovely kind of fiancé and a beautiful baby girl.), and you had even won a case or two. You’d really settled into your life in Hell’s Kitchen with Matt and things were really looking up. Until the vomiting started.

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned as Matt muttered something about blasphemy where he lay in your bed. You came back from the bathroom for what felt like the twelfth time this morning after puking your guts out. “If I puke one more time, I’m going to put myself out of my misery a la Dramamine OD.” Matt chuckled and opened the covers— and his arms — to receive your exhausted, wrung out, body.

“Baby, Stay home today.” Matt grumbles, placing a soft kiss to your neck, nuzzling in further.

“No way Devil boy, I got that deposition to look over for Jen Walters, and I need to find an expert witness for Kar-“ Matt covers your mouth lightly with his hand.

“You can’t do any of that while puking your guts out, and I can tell you’re about to do it again. Go see a doctor, then we can figure out work.” He released you just as you feel your stomach flop uneasily once more.

“Damn you and your uncanny ability to hear my stomach churning.” You grumbled getting up to go puke your guts out just as Matt suspected. “Fine, I’ll go see Claire, but you have to look over that thing for Jen. I’m being serious Murdock, and don’t make the excuse that I didn’t copy it over to Braille because I’m gonna text Karen about it!” You shouted in between bouts of vomit, listening as Matt got ready for work.

“I love how chill you are about working with my ex… Girlfriend?” You laughed through your vomit at the question in his tone.

“Oh Fuck you Matty, of course I’m chill. Batman can sleep with Catwoman and leave, but there will always be a Robin.” You puked again and rethought that metaphor. “Okay that Metaphor doesn’t really work because Batman and Robin aren’t fucking, but the idea stands.” Matt chuckles and comes into the Bathroom, now fully dressed for work. He kisses your forehead with a smile and hands you a cup of mouth wash. Once he chaperones you back to bed, he leaves. You settle into your nice, soft, silky sheets, about to let little sheep whisk you off to dream land when you realize something that was about to be very important in your relationships state of affairs. Your period is two weeks late.

“Fuck me ROUGHLY with a chainsaw, you gotta be KIDDING!” You whisper yell staring at the test with two little blue lines that is threatening to rock your world.

“Well, congrats I guess. I’ll set you up an appointment with the OBGYN.” Claire pats your shoulder and leaves the apartment, gently closing the door behind her. She leaves you with more questions than answers, but she can feel that you need the space to metabolize the very big pill you’re swallowing. That pill? You’re gonna be a mom. You’re gonna be a mom SOON. Not two weeks soon, but the ship has sailed, the die is cast, the nine month timer is ticking, and your good catholic boyfriend has yet to put a ring on your finger, and this baby is about to be born by way of Westeros (if you couldn’t tell by that I meant a bastard. It’s funny, laugh.). You hadn’t read the Batman comic for this, but you’re feeling like the joker had a good philosophical point when he decided that laughing at the void was his only option. So you visited Maggie.

You and your boyfriends mother, who was also shockingly a nun, got along like a house on fire. When at first your faithful boyfriend told you his mother was a nun you were very nervous, and super confused as to how that shit was supposed to fucking work. Then you met the woman, and my god did everything you knew about Matt Murdock make total sense. They were so similar. The way they wrinkled their nose when they smiled at you sarcastically. The way they always oriented in the direction of whoever was speaking as if projecting with their bodies that in this moment, your words were important because they came from you. The way they would silently say a prayer at random moments when they saw- or in Matt’s case heard or sensed- something they were thankful for; a cup of fresh coffee, kids resolving a fight without intervention, your laughter, the rain stopping right as they left a building. It was nice to see some of the clay that molded the man that you loved so dearly, to know where he was fired and glazed, and to be able to tangibly appreciate his very existence as if a work in a series of fine art. You loved it, you wondered if your children would be molded of this same clay, what they would pick up of your own.

“Hello, Robbin!” Maggie greeted cheerfully as she supervised playtime for all the kids running around the playground of the school. She loves her son’s girlfriend and her silly Batman nickname. She’s like a breath of fresh air, makes him take everything just a little less seriously. She’s exactly what he needed.

“Hey sister Mags! Uh so can I ask for some advice?” You plop next to Maggie on the bench and fiddle with your fingers nervously, which for Maggie, is an automatic red flag. In the time that she’s known her Son’s girlfriend, she had never been one to fidget nervously. She was always a commanding force of chaotic will. She thinks it’s what Matt likes best about her, so seeing this normally very confident woman fidget… she knew it was time to keep an open mind and an open ear.

“Of course, what’s my son done now?” Maggie chuckles, grabbing your hand and forcing you to stop picking at your fingertips gently.

“He’s knocked me up is what he’s done.” You mutter under your breath and Maggie freezes. “Now he’s stuck with me forever, and he’s gonna be mad, and he’s gonna freak out, and I’m gonna have to be a single lawyer mother that takes her baby to court.” You flop your head in your hands and start sniffling back tears and Maggie is almost too stunned to speak… almost.

“Well,” she starts cautiously, “ being stuck with you forever is Matt’s goal so I wouldn’t worry about that.” Your head snaps up, and Maggie smiles at you reassuringly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, you heard that correct, forever was his goal so deep breaths there.” You chuckle and swipe a tear away. “Now, the baby, he’s gonna be thrilled… eventually. He’ll probably try something stupid, but he will come around. If he doesn’t? Well, there are four or five heroes, vigilantes, several lawyers, and one nun of course, that would kick his ass if he said he would leave you. That’s not gonna be a problem though. He’s gonna be thrilled. Don’t worry about it dear, you’re gonna be great parents.” You hug Maggie on a sob and let her hold you for a couple minutes. It’s nice, having a motherly figure who cares about you again.

“God, I’m really having a baby. I’m such an emotional little goddamn bitch now- Oop sorry sister.” You gasp. Maggie laughs and shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it Robin, it’s fine. Better get back to the bat cave though, I bet you left the test sitting out on the counter.” As always Maggie was right.

Meanwhile back at the apartment…

“FOGGY!” Foggy was not accustomed to Matt shouting, not at that pitch at least. Foggy had heard him shouting in distress, in pain, in anger, but not this near giddy shout that he was giving off now. It shocked him so much he actually dropped the coffee he was pouring for Karen in the sink. Karen flinched as well, not being used to this suddenly excited and yet frantic shout. “Foggy! Come quick!” He heard Matt scrambling out of the bathroom and hitting the door frame in his haste. He met him halfway across the room with Karen not far behind. They needed to hear what this was about right away.

“What Matt! What!” Suddenly a stick was thrust in his hands and he looked a it befuddled. “What is this?”

“A pregnancy test! What does it say!” Matt frantically shouted smacking his friend excitedly on the shoulder over and over. Karen gasped? and foggy flinched flinging the test.

“Ew your girlfriend peed on this!” What Foggy didn’t realize, was in his childish disgust he flung the test right out the open window above the dumpsters.

“FOGGY YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” Karen shouted lunging at the test futilely as it flew out the window.

“SHIT!” Foggy yelled following her

“GODDAMNIT!” Matt cussed and the group all gasped again and Matt even smacked a hand over his gaping mouth in horror. Foggy stared open mouthed at the open window, and then at Matt. Karen nearly falls from the force of the gasp that just came out of her mouth. They stand in silence, all staring at each other for a good couple of seconds and then the room dissolved into madness.

“MATT WAS THAT BLASP-“

“IM SO SORRY! I HEARD PREGNANCY TEST AND I FRE-“

“HAIL MARY FULL OF GRACE THE LORD IS WITH THEE-“

The three of them stood in a circle gaping and shouting and gesturing in horror, before they all froze at the hysterical laughter from the woman they hadn’t realized during their slapstick venture had come through the door. There you stood as they all continued to stare slack jawed at you. You were laughing so hard you were nearly gagging. The force of your laughter caused you to collapse in a chair and you were clutching at your side, your face was cherry red and you had tears streaming down your face. “Foggy just- and Karen’s face- and Matt said-“ the next several sentences were stilted by laughter and cut off at the joint, but the partners of Nelson, Murdock, and Page understood that you had seen everything. “Oh god, oh god, I can’t breathe, I’m actually having an asthma attack.” You were coughing through your laughter, and the friends were now genuinely concerned. Matt got your inhaler from your bedside, vaulting the couch and flipping over the chair. Once you had calmed down, and used your rescue inhaler, the group stared at you with cartoonish eagerness- except Matt who was staring vaguely at your fridge and had his hands out at both sides as if he was finishing a vigorous Jazz routine- waiting for you to tell them the results of your test.

“So?” Foggy asked gesturing at you wildly.

“So what?” You gulped, now having your breathing under control.

“STOP BEING COY, ARE YOU PREGNANT WOMAN!?” Karen burst forth then slapped her hands over her mouth. “Sorry.”

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded casually, sipping from someone’s abandoned glass of water.

“WHAT!?” Three identical shouts came from them all at once and you nodded, still very casual, legs crossed waiting for them to figure out their next move.

“WELP! WE GOTTA GO!-“

“OH LOOK AT THE TIME! MARCI SHOULD BE-“ Foggy and Karen hastened excuses and lunged for the exit, grabbing coats and brief cases before slamming the door in a hurry. You could hear them talking in hushed panic whispers all the way down the hall. Matt however, was still frozen in shock. The house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was almost physically painful to have your home, normally filled with so much laughter, become so tensely silent.

“So, I was thinking we move to my place? I got an extra bedroom. But honestly, I love your apartment, I practically live here. Maybe we look for a new place altogether!” Matt slowly creeped closer to you while you rambled. His head cocked hands spread and visibly trembling as he walks towards you like you were wounded and frightened animal about to bite. “Then we could always-“ Matt reached you and dropped to his knees, putting his head directly over your stomach and clutching his fists into the fabric of your sweater. You whimpered, stock still, not even daring to put your hands on his body. You sat in total silence for a couple seconds, until Matt started shaking. You felt his hands grip you tighter and his face nuzzle into your stomach. His tears were starting to seep through your clothes.

“I’m gonna be a dad! I can hear her! We’re gonna have a baby!” He whispered, and you beamed, starting to get teary eyes yourself. The previous tension wooshed out of the room, you relaxed.

“Her, huh?” Your watery chuckle making him hold you tighter.

“Yeah! Her!” He laughs joyfully, “A little girl, who is exactly like you. It’s gotta be. They say that girls are a reflection of their father’s sins, and I can’t wait for her to be just as difficult, and stubborn, and kind, and beautiful, and as crazy as you. You’re my favorite thing, of course I want more of you.” He grins, still crying. Vacant eyes roaming over where he senses your face to be, he puts a hand on your cheek.

“Well Murdock, you’re stuck with me.” You give a watery chuckle, and he beams.

“Good, my plan is working.” He placed a kiss on your head and you laugh.

“Oh?” You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, snuffling away the rest of your tears and rubbing your noses together.

“Yeah, of course, I’ve got a ring in my trunk right now. I was gonna give it to you in two weeks, but why wait when you’re already giving me everything.” You gasp, and Matt stands, going to his trunk and pulling out a little black box. He opens it to reveal a dainty silver band that looked like flowers. The ring was beautiful, and you’re sure he picked it by touch alone so he could fell all of the intricate details. “So, what do you say?”

“Oh my God Matthew, of course!” You giggled, and another wave of tears hit as you kisses him with all the passion you were capable of. You were enjoying your moment of bliss, until you were interrupted by a tell-tale thump against your front door.

“Oh yeah, Karen and Foggy were eavesdropping.” He grinned and you both chuckled. “You can come back in now!” Matt called, and your door burst open revealing a very excited Karen and Foggy were waiting.

“Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.” Foggy was misty eyed, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my god man, are you crying?” You laugh a bit as everyone begins to trade hugs and congratulations.

“Yeah! My best friends are getting married and having a baby! Why wouldn’t I cry?” He tried to snuffle back his tears and you hugged him fondly.

“Oh Foggward, you’re gonna be such a good Godfather.” You sigh, and the news of him being the godfather made him promptly burst into tears.

Matt was a saint. He attended your every need. You never had to worry about your craving foods being easily accessible, the fridge at your house and at the office was fully stocked. House hunting? Handled. There was a cute brownstone near the office and the parish that he snapped up right away. It had plenty of room for more kiddos, and it had a window in the attic so he could sneak out on his Devil adventures without a hitch. Body issues? Not with Matt you don’t. The bigger you got, the more feral he seemed to get. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, you were like a precious jewel, and he wouldn’t let you forget. (And if you had to guess, it was most likely some sort of breeding kink, but who were you to judge.) As the months rolled on, you got bigger, your mood swings got more intense, and the sass you were slinging the entire time was unmatched, but he handled it like a champ.

“Matthew Michael Murdock? Tell your little parasite to calm down with the morning sickness, or I swear to god I’ll puke in your shoes.”

“Mathew? Our Xenomorph is dancing on my bladder. I’m gonna need you to start doing some of the parenting here, tell her it’s my bladder not Prom.”

“Listen buddy, I know you Murdock’s got the Devil in you or whatever, but if this child keeps moving while I try to sleep? I’m gonna call an exorcist.”

Even with all of that, Matt always shrugged it off with a smile, and whatever solution he could. The baby was already a daddy’s girl, and when Matt found out you really were having a little girl? He became even more obsessed. He constantly talked to your bump, touching your stomach anytime he was near you and relishing in the way your two steady heart beats thudded strongly against his hand. His voice was like some kind of magic spell, whenever he talked to you or your bump, whatever ailment your daughter was causing suddenly subsided. When the baby started kicking? He was glued to your hip. The first time she did it, you were laying on the couch, reading over some court case. Matt was pacing the room, practicing his opening statement for the next day, until your shocked gasp cut him off.

“Baby?” Matt called out, startled and suddenly terrified.

“Matty! Come quick!” You waved him over even though he couldn’t see, and he rushed to you, afraid something was seriously wrong. Then you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach and-

“Oh! Oh wait!” Matt was suddenly an eager child, giddy and vibrating under his skin like he was just given the gift he was excited for for Christmas.

“It feels so weird, but there she is!” You giggled, I’ve felt her a couple times, but it’s never been strong enough for you to feel it, or I don’t know? Super senses and all maybe you could? Doesn’t matter. That’s out baby Matt!” You grinned with tears brining in your eyes, and Matt beamed, pressing a kiss to your belly, and then your lips lovingly. Yeah, he was gonna be a great dad.

You weren’t prepared to become the most protected woman in the city, but when the other vigilantes of New York caught wind of your pregnancy, you constantly were being tailed by one superhero or another. You asked Moonknight’s baby mama? Fiancé? You weren’t sure, but they were a thing. Anyway, you asked her if this was normal, but of course, she was also a vigilante, so naturally she didn’t need as much supervision in the eyes of her peers. No matter where you went, at whatever time, there was always one hero handy to make sure nothing was too strenuous for you. Frank Castle ‘running into you’ at a grocery store and helping you carry home your groceries (you had made up since the taser incident, and had since become great friends)? Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man dropping down to walk you home from work (you now lovingly referred to Peter as your eldest child, Matt resented this a bit, but you found it hilarious)? None of these were off limits, and they had all happened on multiple occasions. Hell, even Deadpool had made an appearance a time or two, bringing you snacks or a good joke. You always had an escort, you always had a kind ear, and you always had someone to carry heavy things. While that was great and all, if you didn’t get some alone time? Real, actual, alone time? You were gonna wipe the city of its hero population.

“Mathew!” You shouted when you got home, and Matt winced. He could feel you slowly getting annoyed for days now, and he knew what it was about. He hadn’t asked all of your friends to look out for you like this, they all just sort of… did it, and while it for sure made him feel better, that didn’t mean he couldn’t see how annoying it could be.

“Yes love of my life, mother of my child, Angel on earth?” He beamed and he could tell you rolled your eyes.

“Cut the shit Devil Boy, if I don’t get some alone time here soon? I’m gonna crack.” You sighed, flopping into your couch with a sigh.

“Ok.” Matt shrugged, standing and grabbing his coat from the rack and toeing on his shoes.

“What?” He could sense your adorable pout and shrug, and he shook his head with a laugh. “That’s it? You’re just gonna… go?”

“Yeah, I’ll go to the office, finish up my case work, and head back home with dinner in a couple hours. That ok?” You gave a tiny delighted gasp, and Matt could smell the salt of your tears. Had he misjudged?

“You’re so good to me.” You blubbered a bit, and Matt chuckled. Ah, Hormones. “Thank you, I love you so much, and I love our friends so much, but I really wanna be alone for a minute. I don’t know, it’s all so overwhelming, and I love you so so much, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-“

“Baby, you don’t have to explain. You’re not even alone in your own body right now. Of course you’re overwhelmed, of course you’re feeling overcrowded. You don’t have to explain to me. I know you love me, I know you love having me around, but if you need a moment to yourself. That’s fine.” He sighed, rubbing your back gently.

“You’re my favorite person.” You mumbled, kissing his cheek affectionately. “I Love you more than anything.” You place one on the opposite cheek, “You’re the other half of my soul.” You kiss him on the mouth, “Now leave me alone.” You mumbled still pressing up against his lips, and Matt laughs, grabbing his cane and heading out for an hour or two.

When he returns, there is gentle music coming from the baby’s room. You had been working on the room a lot lately, from what he’s heard from Frank, it’s called nesting, and it was your minds way of preparing your brain for another human to enter your space. He loved listening to you work in there. You always were mumbling to yourself while you painted, or folded tiny clothes, or cleaned. The furniture had all been put together, a baby gift from Frank, Wade, and Peter, who broke into your house one afternoon, built it all, and left a Polaroid of them putting it all together on your fridge. It was a sweet (if not slightly creepy,) gesture that you were both very grateful for. In fact, the whole room had been littered with little gifts and sweet gestures from your friends. Toys, photos, diapers, clothes, they all have a little something, and it made you both smile thinking about how loved your baby already was before they were even born. Matt began to search for you, and when he found you, you were sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, fast asleep, and clutching to a stuffed elephant. He smiled, you were so adorable, he woke you, made sure you ate, and then tucked you into bed. You were gonna be a great mom, he just knew it.

Months dragged on, your baby grew bigger, and as was always the case with you and your wonderful Devil man, nothing, not even the birth of your child, could go as planned.

You were at home when your water broke, blearily trying to make yourself some tea to calm your spasming muscles that you believed to be Brackston Hicks. Instead, you were now standing in wet socks, tired, scared, and in pain. So, naturally, the first thing you did was call Matt, but your heart sank to your stomach when you heard his phone announcing the caller ID from the bedroom. Well, Shit. He was still out patrolling, he never has his normal phone when he’s patrolling. So, you called his emergency cell, and to your horror, a random woman picked up and told you she found it abandoned on the sidewalk. Double shit. Your next call is Claire. Claire is easily the most collected person you know, and should be able to help you with all the baby stuff too.

“Hello?” She answered blearily, and you could hear the busy rush of the hospital in the background, must be a busy night.

“Claire!” You sigh, relieved, and Claire’s voice takes on a greater modicum of interest.

“Robin? Is DD ok?” She asked with urgency, and that’s when the water works start.

“I don’t know! My water broke and he lost both his phones!” You cried again, and you could almost hear the frustration pouring out of her ears like steam.

“Ok! Stay calm Robin, I’m gonna call Luke and Frank. They’ll get started on finding Matt. You call Foggy and Karen to come get you, and I’ll meet you at Metro General.

You nodded and sighed as your muscles gave you a slight reprieve. “Ok, ffffffuck, shit. Ok. Yeah, I can manage that.”

“Ok, good. See you soon.” She hung up, and suddenly, you were scared all over again. So before you could break down once more, you called Karen.

“Robin? Is everything ok? Is Matt ok?” The water works started again and you felt like an idiot.

“I-“ you hiccuped and groaned as another contraction started. “I don’t know! He lost his phone! I’m in Labor! I’m terrified!” You cried.

“Oh shit, Tell Robin I’m going out now. I’ll find Red and bring him home. The spider kid will get to her before you will. I’ll shoot him a text ok Kar? Tell Robbi-“ you’re shocked to Hear Frank Castle’s voice followed by the sound of a kiss, but you’re too distracted by the pain to do much about that hot goss anyway.

“Frank, we’re on speaker.” You hear your friend huff.

“Ah, well. Robin, I’ll go get Red ok? We’ll get this fi-“ an explosion then proceeds to rock the city.

“SHIT!” Frank curses, you cry harder and Karen gasps. “Ok, well, found him. I’ll- I’ll call the Moonknight guy and Luke.” Then you hear the sound of Frank’s boots pounding on Karen’s hardwood.

“Ok Robin, I’m on my way. Don’t freak out. Matt may not have even been there yet, but the good news is regardless of what happened we know exactly where he’s gonna be, and Frank, Deadpool, Luke, and Moonknight will find him. I’ll call Foggy and we will come get you ok? Open the door for Peter when he gets there. You got this.” Then silence filled the line again.

You then proceeded to pace around your house. You took a shower, you packed a bag, you grabbed baby’s first outfit. You were doing ok. Around when you were trying to pack Matt’s clothing, Peter got there and you almost collapsed with relief as you heard him pound up the stairs.

“Robin!” Peter heaved as you opened the door. He looked like he sprinted here. It had literally been thirty minutes. “Oh, hey!” He saw you start to cry again.

“My god labor made me a little bitch.” You whimper, letting the superpowered teen comfort you, then you sniffled, and amended your thought. “Actually? Fuck that. I’m in labor, and my husband is probably flipping around an explosion, I’m not crying ENOUGH!” Peter continued shushing your tears and rocking you back and forth slowly, stunned.

“It’s ok Robin, I got you. Foggy and Karen will be here any minute. Let’s get you down stairs ok?” He went into your room , grabbed your hospital bag, then helped you waddle slowly down the stairs. You had to sit on the landing when another contraction hit, but you finally made it out the door just as Foggy and Karen pulled up.

“Hey! Robin! It’s all good!” Karen and Marci rushed to your side, Foggy sat in the car, anxiously flexing his hands on the wheel. “Ok Pete! We got her, you can go help look for Matt now.” You heard Karen whisper as Marci ushered you to the car.

“Ok, Foggy, let’s go.” Marci said, slipping into the front seat while Karen volunteered to sit in the back with you.

“God!” You whined as another contraction hit.

“I’m so pissed!” You yelled. “I told him I’d be fine, to go out, it was just Braxton Hicks, I couldn’t POSSIBLY be going into Labor! It’s too goddamn early!” You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, squeezing Karen’s hand so hard, she thought you’d break her whole arm. “Then, he looks at me, he looks and says ‘No Robbin! It’s fine! Better safe than sorry!’ Then I, like an absolute fucking moron, told him to go! It couldn’t possibly be that bad! If it is labor, I’ll just call! Then he looses his fucking phone! This blind, back flipping, latex wearing, moron, has never once lost his goddamn phone! THEN on the ONE and ONLY NIGHT I NEED TO CALL, HE FUCKING LOOSES IT!” You let out a shout, and Foggy can’t help but giggle, and Marci and Karen look halfway there themselves. “Oh yeah! Laugh! Laugh at my misery! It’s fucking hilarious! I can’t find my blind vigilante husband, I’m in premature labor, and some fucking moron just bombed New York! Real hysterical!” They sober up pretty quickly after that.

When you arrived at Metro General, Claire was waiting with a wheelchair and your OBGYN. “Oh thank fuck.” You mutter, flopping into the chair, “please, proceed to the room and pump me full of drugs doc, I’m miserable here.” Your OB laughs, and pats your shoulder.

“You got it mama. Where’s dad?” She asks kindly, and you start to tear up again.

“We-“ you gasp a sob, “We don’t know!” Claire and the OB give each other an ‘oh shit’ look and nod.

“That’s ok! I’m sure he’s fine, things are hectic, but I’m sure he’s just caught up in traffic, lots of crazy stuff going on tonight.” Your doctor and Claire proceed to roll you into the elevator, and Karen follows close behind. “I’m assuming Ms. Page is coming in with you?” You mid, and Karen bids foggy goodbye, telling him to call Maggie and Frank to see if anybody has any idea about what was going on.

Labor takes forever. In the movies, it’s like a twenty minute gig. It’s all rush rush rush and then boom. Baby. But it’s just not like that in real life. Instead, you get to the hospital, your OB and a bunch of nurses hook you up to monitors, then they leave you the fuck alone. Sure, they come and check on you or whatever, but unless you’re dying, it takes a while, and other people got other shit going on in this hospital too. You end up sort of being glad you told Matt to go help. You’re just in labor, right now it’s all contractions, and napping, and ice cubes.

Claire and Karen are with you the most, and Marci keeps a running update on what’s going on with the bomb, and with Matt and the vigilante crew. Eventually they do anything and everything they can to distract you from your husbands absence. Foggy stops in every once in a while, and they all sneak videos of you too. There’s one where you’re on your laptop and Marci is on hers, you’re comparing notes for a custody battle you’re working on, and it’s the coolest shit Foggy has ever seen. You’re both sitting cross legged on your hospital bed, laptops sitting on your hospital bed tray. Marci is in yoga pants and Grippy socks she stole off a nurse, glasses perched on the end of her nose. You’re in a hospital gown, two blankets and a little Devil squishmallow (I’m talking about Dante btw.) sit in your lap.

“So, in cross-“ you take a deep breath and hold it, hissing out slowly through your mouth. Marci reached both hands across your screens and you hold on to her arms and groan a bit, then it passes. “Whoo, that sucked! In cross, you need to emphasize mom’s addiction problems, and her lack of treatment. Make them realize that while she may have money, and she may be the mother, her life style and unwillingness to get treatment for her alcoholism or take a simple drug test, makes her an unfit guardian.” This video becomes Foggy’s favorite talking point. He loves showing it to your clients to demonstrate just how committed you are to your practice.

You keep working as long as you can, when that gets too much, you end up playing a card game with all of them, and Karen takes an amazing selfie of you with an oxygen mask and a handful of ‘Cards Against Humanity’ cards. There’s also an amazing video of Foggy judging a particularly good hand. “For my next trick I will pull a blank out of my blank.” Foggy reads, and you instantly start cackling and slap down two cards. There’s a moment of deliberation, and then Foggy reads them out. “For my next trick, I will pull- hah!- Meatloaf the food, out of Meatloaf the man!” You all laugh and foggy picks up the next set. “For my next trick! I will be pulling an erection that lasts longer than four hours out of your mother!” You all laugh again, but when Foggy picks up the next set of Cards, he laughs so hard, he makes Marci read them.

“Oh my God!” Marci cackles, then reads the cards. “For my next trick, I will be pulling a Fetus out of My Vagina!” Everyone dissolves into uproarious laughter.

“No fucking way it says that!” Karen laughs and shows the cards to the camera.

“Well that wins.” Foggy groans, and you cheer.

“Haha! Even when in immense pain I still fucking win!” You say taking the black card and kissing it triumphantly.

It takes about two hours for Matt to arrive, and you’re only at four centimeters. You’re loudly complaining about it to Karen during a contraction when he does finally get there. “God Kar!” You snarl as another contraction hits you, thankfully, the pain has been dulled a lot by your epidural, but you’re still in pain. Your leaning on her standing up, Arms around her shoulders, head bowed as you try and rock back and fourth to settle the terrible cramped feeling in your vagina. “I swear to baby Jesus and the grown one too, if Mathew Michael Murdock misses the birth of our first child, he’s gonna be meeting the Lord a lot sooner than expected.” Pretty soon you hear a scuffle with nurses, and a bunch of people worrying about safety some man who looks injured. That’s when Matt rushes in, scratches all over his face, bruised ribs, and a cut over his eyebrow that screams ‘I was just in a burning building!’

“Baby!” He sighs in relief, throwing his cane to the chair in the corner and running to relieve Karen of your weight. “Oh baby! I’m so sorry it took so long! You were so brave!” You nearly collapse into a puddle of tears when Matt finally uses one hand to tangle in your hair and press you to his chest, while the other runs up and down the length of your spine. “We got everyone out, and everyone who can wait in the waiting room is waiting on your okay.”

“Oh thank god!” You cry in relief, pressing a kiss to Matt’s chest.

“No problem honey, you’re gonna have another contraction.” He sighs, clutching you tighter and sitting on the edge of the bed. You lean into him and he kisses over every available piece of skin he can get to.

Matt details for you how he heard a suspicious group talking about some kind of Blaze of Glory and followed them to the building that was eventually blown up. Supposedly, some sort of rival gang had learned of a cover business that their competitors were using, and they had just intended to burn it down, and hadn’t taken into account that there would be barrels of gasoline in the place, causing a mass explosion. Thankfully that building was empty at the time, but the two neighboring apartment buildings weren’t. He got blown back by the explosion, but he was relatively ok. He then details how he and the rest of your group of super friends pulled people out of the two burning buildings, and described for the police that this was not in fact an intentional binning of a city block, but an idiotic arson attempt. He also described in vivid detail how he panicked and sprinted across the city, almost taking out a little old lady and a stray cat in his haste to make it to you.

“Well shit, I never thought I’d be grateful for arsonists, but it not being a domestic terrorist is really comforting.” You mumbled as Matt lay with you between his legs. “I mean, it super sucks that organized crime in this dumb fucking city is so bad, but it could indeed be worse.” He huffed a laugh and discerned Claire’s annoyed eye roll from across the room.

Your labor ultimately lasted for about ten hours, six at home, four in hospital. The whole time it was going you were your snarky, unabashed self. Matt arriving seemed to be what pushed your labor into high gear, and it only took an additional two hours once he arrived for you to give birth. You were a non stop stream of expletives and gauge threats the whole time, and Matt was ever so happy to laugh at your bitching, and dish it right back.

“This sucks, should have known your kid would have a big ass head.” You grumbled at one point, kissing Matt’s hand as he brought you more ice cubes.

“Nah, the head is normal sized, it’s the horns that are giving you so much trouble.” You cackled and crunched the ice he spooned into your mouth. There was a nurse that looked almost terrified momentarily until she realized you were joking, and honestly you couldn’t blame her, New York had seen a lot of shit lately, Rosemary’s baby wouldn’t be too off base.

Matt at some point groans as you lean into his bruised ribs while you ride out another contraction. “Damn Murdock, what are you groaning about, it’s just some bruised ribs, I’m pushing a watermelon out of my vagina. Suck it up!” You lean away hastily, and check his ribs gently when the contraction ends though, and he just laughs.

“Sure honey, I’ll just keep my internal bleeding to a minimum.” He chuckles, kissing your hair, and pushing your hands away, not letting you fuss over him and insisting he was fine. You made Claire check him over anyway, turns out he had also ruptured some stitches. The other nurses were very concerned, but Claire brushed it off saying he was in a car wreck or something.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, your penis is allowed nowhere near my body ever again.” You groaned as you finally got to eight centimeters. Meaning it was time to push.

“Sure babe, we will revisit that sentiment in two months. You’re doing great.” He gently strokes your hair and grasps your hand as he listens to you give birth to your perfect baby girl.

Jacquline Marie Murdock, named in honor Matt’s late Father, was born at 5 am, was five pounds eight ounces, and had a full head of vibrant red hair. The nurse handed her to you and Matt beamed, but he seemed to be hiding something.

“What is it Matty?” You fret, pushing hair from his brow with gentle fingers as the nurse cleaned you up.

“Well, it’s just-“ he sighed and ran a gentle hand over her features, “will you describe her to me?” Your heart shattered. The nurses standing near by ushered the others back a bit so you’d have privacy, and you were so grateful.

“Of course Matt, I’d love to. She’s got your nose, and my chin, but if I had to choose who she looks most like, I’d pick you. No denying she’s all Murdock bub. She’s small, scrappy little thing, just like her mommy. She’s got these perfect lips that now at the top just like mine, and she’s got ten fingers and toes, her eyes are brown, just like yours, but the best part is her hair. It’s your favorite color, it’s bright read and curly, she’s perfect.” You sniffle, and look up at your husband in adoration, drying the tears that were now freely falling from his eyes. (If we’re honest, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.) “Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh!” Matt’s eyes lit up, filled with awestruck wonder. “Can I?” You huffed a watery chuckle and helped him get situated with her in his arms.

“Of course honey, she’s yours. You helped make her.” When you said that, Matt looked as if you had offered him the moon on a string. She was the most perfect thing Matt had ever held, and you were so in love with the way he held his daughter, the look on his face that betrayed his every emotion, and it was filled entirely with love and wonder.

When you were finally resting, and the baby was getting checked over by the doctors,

Matt made his way back to the waiting room. The picture Marci took to show you showed a room filled with a strange assortment of heroes and civilians that honestly frightened the nurses until Claire calmed them down. Karen was snoozing in Franks lap, covered by his long trench coat. He had a hand in her hair, and a hoodie pulled up over his head to hide the giant bruises on his face. Pater was sat on the floor, back pressing into Maggie’s legs as he snoozed against the bemused nun. Foggy had his hands crossed on his chest like an old man, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Luke and Jessica were sitting back to back, as Claire stitched a nasty cut above Jess’s eye. Steven, no longer in the Moonknight suit, had tossed up a peace sign and you could see his lovely wife waiving from his phone screen. Deadpool, wearing a red sweatshirt, jeans, and a surgical mask with his logo on it was laying in Peter’s lap flipping off the camera. Marci was smiling in the foreground of the selfie, and there was an actually traumatized nurse in the background who looked like she either wanted to call the cops, or make a run for it.

When Matt arrived, that hysterical tableaux was broken up immediately by grumbles, cut off snores, and squeals if excitement. “A healthy baby girl!” He beamed and the room erupted in excitement. When it died down, people said they’re goodbyes, and promised to come by tomorrow to meet the baby. Only Maggie, The godparents (Karen and Foggy), and their significant others (Marci and Frank) remained to meet the baby before they too headed home to catch some sleep. Matt lead them all to your hospital room where they were greeted by the sight of you snuggling a perfect baby girl. Your friends cooed over how perfect she was, and you all exchanged hugs and kisses and congratulations.

Karen was first to hold the baby, and Frank grinned as he looked down at the baby over her shoulder.

“Damn Red, you make some adorable ass kids.” He chuckled, smacking Matt on the back as he held your hand.

Next was Foggy, you and every woman in the room eagerly filmed Matt handing over the little girl to his best friend. After she was safely nuzzled in his arms, Matt threw an arm around Foggy and they both grinned. “Man, can you even believe these two Avocados turned out okay?” Foggy chuckled.

“I know man, we made it. We got some other strange things going on, but we made it.” Matt laughed smithing a hand over his daughter’s hair. The picture of him and Foggy was displayed proudly on Foggy’s desk.

Finally, Maggie held the baby, and she and Matt both cried. There were words there that they didn’t dare utter out loud, but when it came to the Murdock family. Other worldly senses could always say a lot more than words could. This moment was big for them, and when he finally whispered the baby’s name to Maggie, it felt like some sort of healing presence filled the room, and you could swear that Matt looked as if his whole world finally clicked into place when his mother told him how proud his dad would have been.

When the room had finally settled, and everyone had left to go get some sleep, you and Matt were left to your own devices. Your baby rested on Matt’s chest as you lay side by side in your hospital bed. He had one hand in her back, and another around your waist, and he focused on both of his girls steady, relaxed heart beats while you stared at her perfect face and stroked her chubby cheeks with gentle fingers. Then you stretched up to kiss Matt’s cheek with a grin, and lips still pressed to his head, you grinned and mumbled;

“Holy Parenthood Batman, we had a baby!”

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thegreatimpersonator · 2 years ago

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hi meg! Im new on here. how are you? any recommendations of ppl i can interact with? :) love ur blog

hi bestie, glad you like my blog! I'm blanking at a lot of names but @itwasntasingle @singlethread @thenighttrain @eclipsedsuns @1989tv @midnightsdlx @reputation @aslowmotionlovepotion @lipsiusedtocallhome @ohh-goddamn @yourheartbeatonthehighline @jude-st-francis @karmaboyfriend @mine-first @leolynn @blushingallthewayhome @ofbetterbodies @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes @pharmaswift @iftye @purpleswift @whataswift @cruel-style @ramonapest @notesonartistry @nowimhaunted @kingofmyborrowedheart and many MANY more! You can also check out the #swiftie of the day series tag on my blog because im shouting out to my favorite ts blogs for an indefinite period of time <3

#you ask for the tab*

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starlightsearches · 3 years ago

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Can we get 3 with hux from the flower AU prompts?

Hello friend! Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!! 🌹🌸💐🌼🌺🌷🌻

Requests are open ✨

Florist! Armitage Hux x Model! Reader (f)

Warnings: Not really, a little yearning, some slutty narration, it's kind of silly and maybe ooc, but I think that's it.

I've been feeling pretty shitty about myself and my writing over the past few days, and I figured the best way to break myself out of that funk was to write something, even if it was stupid. Sometimes when your brain is telling you that you can't do something, you gotta do it anyway. Let me know what you think, besties!

3. Flowers are often used for photo shoots and Person A gets hired to arrange the flowers for one, but they can’t help getting nervous around the model, Person B from the Flower Shop AU Prompts

Armitage is out of his element.

He's plenty comfortable working with his assistant in the back of the shop, or helping customers as they dither over the size of the arrangements and the available flowers at the counter. But this is madness.

The backstage of the set is absolutely teeming with people, and every single one of them runs past without a glance in his direction, shouting into headsets or flipping through stacks of pages attached to clipboards.

He ventures further, past a few darkened hallways until he finds an occupied room. There's a vanity mirror against the far wall, and a woman sitting in front of it, resting her head on one hand, the other holding a book.

"Excuse me," Armitage knocks gently against the door frame before stepping inside.

You set the book down, greeting him with a smile.

"Hello, are you here for makeup?"

For a moment, Armitage is speechless.

He hadn't noticed your strange apparel when he first caught sight of you, but now he can't seem to look away from the dress you're wearing, a less-than-faithful recreation recreation of a Victorian gown that hangs low on your shoulders and tight around breasts, leaving very little to the imagination.

Is he hallucinating? He's never believed in ghosts before but you do seem like a rather lovely, and strangely familiar, apparition.

Your brows furrow in confusion before you glance down at yourself, eyes going wide like you've forgotten what you were wearing.

"Oh," you exclaim, throwing your head back with a laugh, "it's a period piece were doing today."

"I'm sorry?"

"You laugh again, finding his idiocy endearing instead of annoying, "you're not the makeup artist, are you?"

"The florist."

"I see. We're doing a shoot today, a romance novel cover. Do you read romance novels?"

So that's where he recognized you from. He's seen your face before, many times over. How to Wed a Rascal, Devil's Daughter, Three's a Crowd, and his favorite: Kingdom of Thirst.

He's spent too much of his time—bleary eyed, reading into the late hours of the night—imagining your face, your eyes, the sound of your moans as he devoured book after book, story after story.

But he's not about to tell you that.

"Uh, no, not really," he lies, and you shrug off the answer, turning the seat so that you can face him.

"I've only read a few, and they're alright. The jobs pay well, at least, and they're more fun than most shoots."

He nods, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to appear casual, hoping you'll say more. He likes hearing you talk.

You don't look like yourself in pictures. It's not just the makeup and the editing, although he's sure that has something to do with it. You're much more earnest in person, and surprisingly easy to be around. It's magnetic, your personality, to the point he can’t take his eyes off you. It must be what makes you so great at your job.

"You were looking for a place to put your flowers, right? I can help with that," you say, standing from the chair and moving into the hallway, calling into the empty space, "Hey Stacy!"

The sound of harried footsteps echoes down the corridor, and soon you're greeted by a serious looking woman, dressed in all black with her hair swept up into a ponytail.

"What do you need, babes?" she asks without looking up from her cell phone, "Jack said he'd be here half an hour ago but traffic's got him running late, of course. Shouldn't matter since we're ahead of schedule so far and going for a pretty minimal look this time but I told him to haul ass anyways, traffic laws be damned. Who is this?"

Every word pours out of her mouth without a breath in between, and it's not until she looks up, meeting his eyes that he realizes she's talking about him.

"This is . . ." you turn to look at him expectantly, raising your brows.

"Armitage," he provides, and you nod.

"Right, Armitage," you smile, turning back to Stacy, "and he's got the flower delivery for the shoot today waiting in his car."

Stacy nods, mumbling into her headset. "That's great. I'll have Phil unload them."

Armitage nods, wondering if he should offer to stay and arrange them. It's not something he'd typically do . . . but he's not exactly in a hurry to leave.

Another set of footsteps meets the three of you from the end of the hallway, this time provided by another harried-looking woman, almost in a sprint.

"Bad news, Stacy," she pants when she arrives, out of breath, "Ronan's called in sick. He's got food poisoning."

Stacy groans, and you roll your eyes. "Typical. Did you call somebody else?"

"They're all busy: Theo and Jacob are out of town shooting swim, and Will's best man at a wedding."

"We'll have to call off the shoot, then, won't we?"

You shake your head, defeated. Armitage can't help but feel for you; it's obvious how much work goes into these productions, so much time wasted. Not to mention the six dozen flowers currently dying in the back of his van.

"Not so fast," Stacy holds her hand up, silencing the group. Her eyes land on him, and she chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"It's Armitage, right?" she asks, tapping her finger against her lips, "have you ever . . . modeled before?"

He feels his face grow hot, heart racing, "What? No. Absolutely not."

The other woman catches on, sizing him up herself. "Wait a second, you're right Stacy. He's totally got the look. Those god damn cheekbones could slice through steel. He’s about the same size as Will, too, so costuming wouldn't be a problem. How tall are you? Six foot? Six foot two?"

"No," he steps back, "I won't do it."

You put your hand on his shoulder, begging him with your eyes.

"Please, Armitage. It would really help."

He twists his face into a frown, already feeling his resolve crumbling under your eager gaze.

"Well . . . alright."

The three of you erupt in to cheers. He's absolutely going to regret this.

An hour later—hair done, costumed, and feeling ridiculous—Armitage walks out onto the set.

God, no.

It's a surprisingly faithful recreation—he assumes—sumptuously decorated and absolutely bursting with flowers. That's not the problem.

It's a bedroom, most of the space taken up by a large, dark four-poster, rose petals strewn across its surface. He knows what that means.

Bile rises in his throat, a wave of nausea rolling his stomach. He couldn't do this. There was a reason he read so many romance novels: he liked to imagine he could be someone different, someone charming, passionate, wicked.

Being that person is not in his nature.

Vivian, the costumer, approaches him from behind, startling him.

"You ready?" she asks, gesturing him towards the stage, but he hesitates.

"There's no need to be nervous, hon. Your partner for today? She's a god damn angel, the best of the best. You'll be in good hands . . . or I guess she'll be in your hands."

She laughs at her own joke and pats him gently, wandering away.

He's going to throw up. Or pass out. Or drop dead. He can't handle this.

Then he sees you, gliding in through the doorway. You're sparkling with your makeup and hair done to perfection, your eyes warm and bright, and you're smiling at him. Just for him.

Somebody ushers him towards the set, and you join him, arranging yourself on the bed.

"Nervous?" you ask him, laying down on your elbows, a little too at ease. He doesn't have to answer, he knows you can see it on his face.

You hold out your hand to him, and he takes it, adjusting to the feel of your skin against his. "You don't need to be, it's easy."

You pull without warning, and he falls forward, knees hitting the mattress. His other hand land besides your head, close enough to your face that he could reach out and stroke it, if he wanted to.

"Ready up there?" the photographer yells from across the room, and you give him the thumbs up before slipping in to your proper pose. You place his hand at your waist, tilting up his chin.

"Now furrow your brow a little," you whisper, "and part your lips."

He does as he's told, and soon enough the camera flash sparks in his periphery.

It's not as horrible as he thought it would be, although you are doing most of the work. You shift periodically, sometimes staring deep into his eyes, or looking down demurely with your hand just barely grazing your forehead.

"Alright, that's great, that's perfect," the photographer monologues, never taking his eye from the viewfinder, "why don't we get a couple with your lips at her neck?'

He trembles, his breathing shallow, but you look up at him with the slightest nod, arching your back just a little farther, leaving your skin exposed and inviting.

He bends closer, examining the graceful lines of your body. If this were real, where would he kiss you? If he had you to himself—without all these people watching—in his own bed, no pretense, no costumes . . .

He brushes his lips tenderly against the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and he swears that he can hear you sigh in response, your spine curving against his fingers, your chest pressed tighter against his own.

"That's perfect," the photographer shouts, but Armitage isn't listening, entirely preoccupied with the feeling of your pulse against his mouth, his lips traveling up over your jaw, stopping just below your ear.

You turn to face him, slowly, until nose brushes his, staring into his eyes. If he tilted his chin just half an inch, he'd be kissing you.

"That's great, everybody! I think we're done for today."

The set erupts with applause at the photographer's words, but you still don't pull away from him, smiling gently, whispering against his lips.

"Like I said, you're a natural."

His face grows flush, and he shifts back onto his feet, clearing his throat with a cough.

You stand beside him, brushing your hands nervously over the bodice of your gown.

"Thanks again for doing this, we all really appreciate it."

"Of course, it was . . . fun."

"No really, it was a huge favor. I'd like to do something for you, in return—we could get dinner, maybe? My treat."

You place your hand on his arm again, stroking your thumb down over his elbow. Despite how much he's touched you over the last hour, this contact feels different. Because you're not playing a part this time. Because it's him you're reaching for.

"We can change first, of course," you say, the words rushed as you read his dewy-eyed imaginings for hesitation.

He smiles, placing his hand over yours in reassurance, "I'd like that."

Hux Tag List: @theredwolfisalesbian, @thembohux, @writingletterstothefire, @catboykenobii, @missmadwoman, @evarinaandlat, @sitherin-mxschief, @imafatassmess, @toasterking, @rosevon7975, @pradahux, @armitages-galaxy, @dark-lord-of-the-simps, @daughterofaries, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @aramanna, @theold-ultraviolence, @mrs-ghuleh, @lemongingerart, @isthisheaven5, @trash-queen-af, @generalthirst, @tobealostwanderer, @huxxoxo, @theoriginalannoyingbird, @liceforlunch, @g3n3ralhux

Join my tag list here!

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trash-gobby · 3 years ago

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I honestly thought I was gonna have a hard time on this website because I've heard horror stories about how Tumblr is super toxic for writers posting content and stuff, but I've been pleasantly surprised over the past three months of being here. I don't think I've gotten a single horrible person saying nasty crap on my blog. I have only had really kind patient people, and some people who were critical, but in a positive and constructive way. This might be because I've found the right community where people are generally pretty chill, but I also think that the things I've heard about this website might also be a bit exaggerated.

Anyway! I want to say thank you to all the wonderful people who have, lurked, been really fantastic mutuals, followers, anons, and general requesters! You guys have really made me feel welcome here and like my writing (while needing work) isn't the worst thing on the face of planet earth. I love being a part of the horror community, and other communities (especially the Bishop people and Dark City, and James Bond fandoms, shout out to y'all 🤠), and I hope to meet many more wonderful and creative people through this sight!!!

Wishing a happy holidays & New Year to the mutuals and others who have been so kind, and the 2018 people who sticked around following my dumb ass! You all rock and are great human beings who I believe can succeed at anything you put your mind to!!!: @gaycowboywizard (real life bestie who does way to much work proofreading for me. I should pay you). @horror-obsessed (first follower who writes amazing content on their main account @beoneofus . Please check them out! It's totally worth it). @pitiful-anonymous-vampire (also one of the first people to follow, has made me feel extremely welcome on this platform. Thank you for the capybara photos. They sustained me through exam period.). @ninjettey (who kicked off my ask box obsession with my first ever ask. Thank you for giving me such a creative ask :D. Also writes stuff, so please give them a read). @dogboy-tim (thanks for sending in multiple creative asks and reblogging my stuff! I really appreciate the interaction and the kindness!!! They write as well and extremely well at that, so give them a read and follow). @myers-meadow & @chop-top-suey (frequent active followers and I love seeing you guys in my feed too! Both an amazing writer and artist! If you follow me you should follow them!!!). @judge-arts (who has been a good internet friendo and person I've talked to about our mutual obsession with Bishop!!! Thanks for making me feel welcome in that niche but wholesome side of fandom, it warms my tiny goblin heart. Also check out their art, it's extremely intricate 3D work and it's beautiful). @civitvs (who wrote a whole fanfic based on headcanons I made and deserves some praise for taking time out of their day to do so. I'm so flattered. Here is their AO3 link. Please go show them some love.)

Honestly there are so many people I want to thank that go beyond the list I've made of mutuals who I wanted to shout out. If I've missed people, know that I still see you, and that I appreciate you sticking around. I just always feel thankful and mushy around this time of the year, so I wanted to let everyone who interacts, lurks, or follows to know that I appreciate all of you and If you ever feel like your having a bad day or that your art is crap, I am here to tell you, you rock and are the best of the best.

Have a Happy Holidays & a great New Year!!! ✨🌙

#honestly you guys make me a better more motivated writer 🥺#horror community #slasher community #slasher fandom #horror fandom #lance bishop #trash gobby says sh*t

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kitty0boy · 4 years ago

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I’m baaaack. I saw the is idea for this on Tiktok where basically Marinette saves Chat Noir she’s on top like when Chat saves Ladybug and he can’t function, so she smirks and flicks his bell. It’s a little spicier than the stuff I usually write so be warned! As always they are aged up so Marinette is 17, Adrien is 18. And much like some of my other fics, Chat can use multiple Cataclysms while Ladybug has to run off and recharge. Again, the content is kinda spicy so I’m going to say 14+ for this one. So enjoy!

———————————

You’ll never guess who was akumatized again. That’s right, Lila, why? Because she was caught lying this time.

Marinette was exhausted, being the new guardian and all. She slept through half of first period, dozed off in Ms. Mendeleev’s class twice, and nearly face-planted on the staircase outside the school. Needless to say, everyone was worried about her, especially Adrien. He felt he was partly responsible after all. His late night visits with her seemed to have taken their toll. Maybe he should stick to UMS tournaments on the weekend and Fridays.

Not everyone was worried though (somehow), one of those people being Lila. Over the years she’d become more and more set on gaining the attention of everyone in a 2 mile radius. While she usually only bragged about her “charity work”, the opportunity to slander Marinette wouldn’t go unused.

“I’m so worried about our poor Marinette.” She cooed, “Ever since she downloaded that app, oh it’s only gotten worse.” The class stared at her puzzled. In mock surprise, she covered her mouth, “Whoops! Oh I’m such a blabber mouth.” Adrien couldn’t see her lips, but he was sure they were curled into a nasty smirk. “Wait what? What app?” Alya piped up. “Oh she didn’t tell you? She’s a sugar baby. She’s been on Tinder getting money from older men. How do you think she pays for her supplies.”

He’d had enough, “Seriously Lila, if you’re going to spread rumours about people at least make sure they’re true. You don’t even hang out with Marinette, how would you know that before me or Alya?” She pulled out her best sad smile. “Oh Adrien, she confided in me because she was too scared of what you would think.” Alya cut her off, “No Adrien’s right, Marinette doesn’t like you Lila. I’m sorry but it’s true. There’s no way she’d tell you something like that.” Adrien put his hands in his pockets in triumph, but not before Lila got her phone out and held it up, showing Marinette’s supposed profile on Tinder. There was a picture of her face right on the profile. “I managed to hack into her account last night. Just look at all these creepy old men she’s matched with.” She scrolled through the list of men, most of them looked to be in their late 40s. Anger bubbled inside him.

“Seriously Lila! She’s still underage, don’t make a fake profile of her on Tinder. Now all of these old men know what she looks like. What would happen if they tracked her down. I swear to god if she’s ever hurt because right this I’ll-” He was ready to strike when a hand touched his back and a head fell against his shoulder. “What’s going on?” Marinette asked, she rubbed her eyes. “Girl let me see your phone.” Alya demanded. Marinette slumped over to her before placing her phone in the bestie’s hand. She walked behind Alya and wrapped her arms around her shoulders from behind.

Adrien, or rather, Chat Noir was no stranger to Marinette’s sleepy cuddling tendencies. He remembered many nights that involved her wrapping around him while blinking back sleep. Whether it was watching movies, playing video games, or even sketching. She somehow always found a way to cuddle up to him. Not that he was complaining, it was the best way to get her to sleep after all. She’d lean on him and he’d wrap around her, start purring, and play with her hair while she drifted off. He of course was adapted to running on less than 5 hours of sleep anyways, besides, hearing the sleepy sounds she’d make were always worth it. So seeing her cuddle up to Alya did make him a little jealous yes, was he going to say anything, probably not. He’d probably suggest a movie marathon that night to get his fair share in.

He watched while Alya scrolled though Marinette’s phone. Marinette subconsciously nuzzling into the crook of her friend’s neck. “Take a look everyone. Do you see the app for Tinder anywhere on my girl’s phone?” The class stared at it. “I don’t see it.” Rose squeaked. “Well obviously not, Marinette picks up shifts at the bakery sometimes to pay for all that stuff.” Alix shouted while walking towards them. She wasn’t there when Lila was talking about it. Adrien looked at her confused. “How did you know what she-?” She cut him off, “Nathaniel told me.” He looked at him and Nathaniel’s face turned as red as his hair. “He wanted to say something but he’s still really shy.” Alix whispered to Adrien. Adrien turned back to see his friends crowding around the bench where Lila sat, all of them were scowling at her. One by one they started voicing their disapproval. “Don’t spread rumours about our friend.” “Seriously Lila, not cool.” Lila got up from the bench and calmly walked towards the exit with her belongings in hand. It was the end of the day anyways.

He saw Marinette stumbling towards the locker room to pick up her backpack, Alya guiding her with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. “Maybe your purrincess could use a lift home.” Plagg suggested from his pocket. “Hey you’re right, maybe then Lila wouldn’t be able to start more rumours about her. Everyone would know why she’s been up late.” He considered the idea. “But what about Hawkmoth? I don’t want him to target her.” Plagg tried to fly up to his eye level but Adrien quickly slapped the kwami back into his jacket. “Ow hey what was that for?” Plagg yelled, “I’m in the middle of the school foyer, I’m already getting weird looks for slapping myself so don’t make it any worse.” That earned a little pinch from his friend “A little pay back, now if you don’t transform and pick up your sleeping beauty I’ll carry her back home myself. I don’t trust that girl to walk across the street by herself.” Adrien smiled, “Aww does the cheese monster have a soft spot for my purrincess, I thought there was only room for camembert in your heart.” Plagg rolled his eyes, “Yeah well if I can make room for you, then I can make room for pigtails. Now go and transform before you miss your chance.” He flew back into Adrien’s pocket. Touched by his kwami’s speech, Adrien walked towards the exit and sprinted around the corner. Luckily he had fencing practice today so his bodyguard wouldn’t be waiting for him.

He ducked into an alleyway and transformed after making sure he wasn’t followed, Chat Noir emerging from where Adrien was seconds ago. He ran back towards François DuPont to meet his little mouse at the front. As she emerged covering a yawn, Alya spotted him. Immediately she whipped out her phone and ran towards him, leaving Marinette behind. “Chat Noir! What are you doing here? Out for an afternoon patrol?” She held up her camera to record him. “Actually I’m here to pick up a certain little lady. I’ve been keeping her up at night and word has it she’s dead tired.” Alya blinked before turning towards her friend and looking back at him with wide eyes. He nodded and looked back up only to see Marinette trip over her feet. He rushed over and caught her around the waist in a hug before she could smash her face into the pavement. “Well hello there Mari, fancy seeing you here.” She looked up at him and smiled before stretching her arms up and wrapping them around his neck. “Hey kitty.” She murmured before resting her face on his chest. He sighed and bent down a little to sweep her up, he gently repositioned her into a hip carry with his other hand wrapping under one of her thighs. She immediately snuggled into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Alya stood there, her mouth agape. “Hey uh, would you mind grabbing her bag for me miss Ladyblogger?” He asked, nodding at it. She snapped out of it and picked it up off the steps where it had fallen. She passed it to Chat who slung it over his free shoulder and started heading towards Tom and Sabine’s bakery, with a certain fox tailing him.

The three, well the two of them walked while Marinette was peacefully carried by Chat Noir. Alya chuckled “Are you, purring?” He blushed a little before giggling back, “Yeah I am, I usually do it when she’s really tired, it puts her to sleep really quickly.” She smirked at him, “So this is a regular occurrence?” He stammered “I well uh yes for a while, not every night but umm.” He blushed and looked down at her. “If only I knew Marinette was sleeping with one of Paris’ superheroes.” She said slyly, she was definitely fit for the fox miraculous. He turned away from the journalist, he didn’t want to see him blush. His cheek bumped into Marinette’s forehead before resting against it. “It’s not in the way you’re thinking, we usually play video games or watch movies, most of the time she gets really tired and ends up falling asleep on me so I put her to bed.” He looked back at her and she was not convinced. “You mean she gets tired so you cuddle her and purr while she falls asleep then you sneak out the window.” He pouted, “You make me sound like a creepy, and it’s actually the trapdoor to the balcony, I can’t climb through the window without diving through it.” She grinned at him and he rolled his eyes. “Not much better is.. hey what’s that?” He turned to see a figure glaring at them from on top of the school, he didn’t get to look at them for very long before something fast and sharp came barreling towards them.

He didn’t even have time to grab Alya, he only had time to shove her out of the way with his foot before jumping backwards with Marinette pulled tight to him. He stumbled a little, crashing to the ground with a very much awake Marinette landing safely on top of him. She propped herself onto her hands just enough to separate her face from his. “Chat? What’s going on?” A loud cackle was heard behind them and she leapt to her feet, he followed suit and pulled Marinette behind him, making sure she was as separated from the akuma as possible. “My name is Seamstress, with my needle and thread I’ll make sure none of you can ever speak against me.” Seamstress turned to Alya, she pinched her fingers together and make a jabbing motion towards her. Alya’s mouth shut and she covered it with her hand. It looked like she was in pain, then Seamstress pulled her hand back and Alya cried out, but her scream was muffled. She pulled back her hand to reveal that her lips were sewn shut. Marinette tried to run towards her friend but Chat wrapped his arms around her before she could go anywhere. “Alya No!” She screamed, her face full of tears. “I’m really sorry Marinette.” He said before grabbing his baton and vaulting them away from the akuma and Alya.

Marinette held tight to Chat’s neck, despite the sobs that shook her violently. He needed to get her away but he wanted her to breathe. He looked behind him, Seamstress was nowhere in sight, so he jumped into an alleyway and sat down, Marinette sitting in his lap. He sat crisscross so that she could sit more comfortably, she still wasn’t breathing right.

“Marinette I need you to breathe for me ok? I know it’s going to be hard but I have to get you somewhere safe, and I can’t do that if you can’t breathe. Here.” He reached behind him and pulled one of her hands off him and placed it on his chest. “Ok can you feel me breathing?” She nodded against his shoulder. “Ok good, now try to match my breathing ok?” He felt her panting against him as she tried to fix her breathing. It took a few minutes but soon enough her sobs turned into little whimpers of sadness. “Feel better?” He asked and she nodded. She was always quiet like this when she was upset, seeing her friends hurt wouldn’t be something she got over easily. She pulled back to look at him before another tear slipped down her cheek. He quickly reached up and brushed it away, “Ok now we’ve got to-“ An explosion rang out in the street near them, he gently pushed her off of him. “Stay here ok, I’ll come and get you after.”

He ran out from the alley only to come face to face with Seamstress. “Hello kitty, where have you hidden miss goody two-shoes hmm?” She asked, she looked like she’d gone insane, her face twisted into something between and grin and fury. Her face darted from left to right, looking for his princess. Luckily, the dumpster they landed beside blocked Marinette from view. “Like hell I’d tell you.” He turned his baton and extended it towards her, putting as much distance between him and the akuma as he could. “Well if I can’t get you to talk, maybe I should just shut you up!” Her hand thrusted towards him and he saw a needle, he dodged it and her hand snapped open, a drop of blood running down her finger. So if she misses a stitch she’ll prick herself. Good to know.

He dodged needle after needle until he got distracted and stumbled. He fell to the ground and braced for the pain to come to his lips, but it never did. Instead something small crashed into him and they rolled across the road, hitting the curb. He looked up to see Marinette on her hands and knees above him. Her lips were still swollen from crying but in that moment, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. ‘Geez Adrien great timing.’ He could almost hear Plagg cackling in his head. He just stared at her, mouth agape, then she did something he would never recover from. She smirked, and oh god did he want to kiss her. “What cat got your tongue?” She said before flicking his bell. She stood and pulled him up. He quickly snapped out of it and scooped her up before dashing down the street, the akuma not far behind, he drifted around a corner and silently sprinted down an alley before extending his baton and racing across the rooftops in the opposite direction, successfully leading the akuma in the wrong direction. He brought her to the first place he could think of, the Louvre. He leapt off one of the buildings to the side, summoned a cataclysm to break a glass panel, and landed on the floor inside with Marinette clutched safely in his arms.

“Wasn’t there an easier way to get in here?” She said, a teasing tone to her voice. He wish he wanted to laugh but he didn’t. He was mad, furious even. He told her to stay hidden, out of sight. He told her to wait in the alley for him but she didn’t. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” He asked angrily. Hundreds of emotions swam through him, part of him wanted to lecture her for hours, part of him wanted to hug her and make sure she was ok, part of him wanted to kiss her stupid because mon dieu she was beautiful with her hair down like that. He settled for a simple “Stay here this time, I’ll come get you.” Before turning and vaulting towards the akuma.

Ladybug was a little late to the fight but they got it over with fairly quickly. He destroyed the bracelet the akuma was in and Ladybug captured it and fixed everything. “Would you mind taking her back this time? I’ve gotta run.” Ladybug asked and he nodded. Some of his anger had faded but he wasn’t exactly in a good mood right now. She waved goodbye before hurrying off. “So,” he started turning to Lila, “I hope you won’t be spreading anymore false rumours about people now, especially Marinette.” He growled a little and miss liar shrank under his gaze. She nodded before standing and walking away.

He needed to calm down, Marinette was probably scared and hurt and confused, he didn’t exactly leave her on the best note. By the time he arrived at the Louvre it was closed for cleaning. He slipped inside to grab her but noticed that she was standing by the door. “They umm, kicked me out when it closed.” She said shyly. His brows furrowed.

She looked at him confused before he opened his mouth to speak. “I told you to stay hidden and you didn’t listen. Why?” She frowned, “Don’t you mean ‘thank you Marinette’?” She folded her arms in front of her chest. “Uh no I mean why did you run out from your hiding place, I’m the superhero remember, you can’t go running into the middle of an akuma battle. You don’t have superpowers or a magic suit to protect you.” She walked up to him and pushed her finger into his chest, “You were more important when it came to defeating Seamstress, who cares if my mouth is sewn shut because yours will still work. You needed to be safe more than I did so I saved you.” He clenched his fists, “My job is to protect you“ she cut him off “No your job is to help Ladybug save the akumatized person.” He started speaking, “No, my job is to make sure no one gets hurt, I have to keep everyone safe.” She crossed her arms again, “Once Ladybug’s cure fixed everything I would have been fine.” He stood straight, “Well I wouldn’t be, I wouldn’t be able to function knowing you got hurt because I couldn’t protect you.” She grabbed his shoulders, “And how do you think I feel huh? Seeing you die over and over again! So fuck me if I wanted to save you one time! I can’t keep watching you sacrifice yourself over and over again.” Her voice broke, “And what? You think I would be able to keep fighting if I knew you weren’t safe, I don’t think I could live with myself if Anything happened to you.” He wasn’t yelling anymore but he was still angry with her. She was close to crying again she was so angry.

“For heaven sakes you stupid cat!” She blurted before grabbing his bell and pulling him down to her. He saw her eyes close before their lips met. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, it wasn’t a slow gentle kiss either, it was a desperate, passion filled kiss that made him feel like he was struck by lightning. Her hands tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist. He couldn’t tell if this was heaven or hell, he felt like he was dancing on cloud nine while her lips burned against his neck. She pulled down his bell zipper slightly and he groaned as she left marks on his collar bone. He grabbed her face and pulled her back up to him, gently biting her bottom lip when she smirked.

He heard a whistling noise somewhere behind Marinette but it barely registered and he lifted her up to get her closer to him. She pulled back and he started leaving marks on her identical to the ones she left on him. “Um Chat.” She whimpered and he wanted to hear her say his name again. “Chat.” She said a little louder, “Hey!” She squeaked and he stopped, looking up at her. Her face was bright red and her eyes were wide. “What?” He asked, lowering her to the ground. He quirked an eyebrow at her before looking above her head. It was Alya and Alix, standing there, watching him make out with their best friend. “Uh, hi.” He said awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “Well hi there.” Alix chuckled. Oh no, he was about to die right? “We’ll leave you two to your, umm, whatever that was but make sure you have her home by 9 young man, you understand me?” Geez she sounded like Mr. Dupain. “Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, wishing he could curl up into a ball and hide. The pair walked off, laughing and whispering together.

He felt something heavy crash into his chest, “Oh, mon dieu I’m a goner.” Marinette groaned. He laughed nervously before hugging her and ruffling her hair. She looked up at him, “You’re still an idiot you know.” He laughed for real this time, “And you’re still beautiful.” Her face turned pink and she put her head against his chest again. He sighed and started purring. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just so worried. Like I said, I don’t think I could function if I found out something happened to you.” She wrapped her arms around him and raised herself up to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry too, I’ll try to stay out of trouble.” He smiled, “You’d better, or I’ll go full Weredad and lock you away.” She giggled, “I think you mean Werecat.” He joined her and they laughed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. “So, how about a movie night tonight?” He asked. “Why don’t we just cuddle until I fall asleep, that’s basically what we do anyways.” He wagged his tail excitedly, “Do you still have the pillow fort set up from last time?” She giggled again, “Yes I do, now let’s go home kitty, it’s cold out here.” Oh right, she didn’t have a jacket on. He quickly scooped her up and they headed off.

That night he got more than his fair share of cuddles, he even stayed for a sleepover. Thank goodness it was Friday.

————————————

Thank you for reading. It’s a bit spicier than the stuff I usually write but I think I did ok.

#marichat #miraculous lady tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous Marinette #miraculous adrien #chat noir #cat noir #slight angst

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nachotrash · 3 years ago

Text

ANOTHER EDITION OF INCORRECT QUOTES

ft: @catchmewiddershins @paradise-creator @elektrosonix @lilikags @todd-the-phrog and my irl bestie

Lili: I think I'm falling for you.

Anna: Then get up.

Anna: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Pauline: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Wid walks in*

Pauline: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

Sara: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreashing.

Wid: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Isamu: Is something burning?

Wid, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

Isamu: Wid, the toaster is literally on fire.

Isamu: *seductively takes off glasses*

Isamu: Wow...

Anna: *blushes* Haha... what?

Isamu: You're really fucking blurry.

Anna: Any questions?

Wid: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

Anna: Uh, a plan, duh...

Shiyu: Wid, chill, I know it’s weird, but Anna has a point.

Wid:

Wid: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!

Wid: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Sara!

Sara: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

Lili: I'm not that stupid!

Shiyu: Lili, you literally ate the wax from a babybel.

Lili: ANNA TOLD ME IT WAS EDIBLE!

Isamu: *visiting the squad* Hello, I just came to-

Isamu: *sees Sara shoving Shiyu into the washing machine while Anna records and Wid watches*

Isamu: *retreating* Something suddenly came up.

Shiyu: I failed my safety training course today.

Lili: Why, what happened?

Shiyu: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?"

Lili: And?

Shiyu: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

Lili: How would you like your coffee?

Wid: As dark and as bitter as my soul.

Lili, shouting to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar!

Wid: It’s time to turn this into a real business.

Shiyu: What do you mean? Like, carry a briefcase, and wear a tie, and pay taxes?

Anna: Wait, have you not been paying your taxes?

Sara: I handle our accounting.

(no but this is actually me)

Sara: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Anna: You sleep with a teddybear.

Sara: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Lili: You are an absolute fucking dork.

Anna, singing: Yeah, but I'm your dork!

Lili: *sighs* Yeah, you're my dork.

Lili: Guys, I didn’t memorize my lines!

Isamu: Just use your lack of common sense! Everyone knows the characters in plays are dumb as fuck!

*During the play*

Pauline: Hey! You finally made it! Did you get the donuts?

Lili: W-what’re donuts?

Pauline: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am-

Anna: A doll.

Isamu: A cinnamon roll.

Lili: A sweetheart.

Pauline:

Pauline: ...stop it.

Pauline: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Wid: Aren't you forgetting something?

Pauline: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Wid's forehead before running out.*

Wid: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Pauline: Why should I make my bed, when I'm just gunna unmake it to sleep in it anyways?

Anna: Why should I feed you if your just gunna die anyways?

Pauline:

Pauline: I'll go make my bed-

Lili: Yo dumbass, get over here.

Shiyu: Okay-

Anna: *gleefully runs past* I’m coming!

Shiyu, sadly: I thought... I was dumbass...

Shiyu: That shirt looks great, Sara.

Sara: Thanks.

Shiyu: But I bet it would look even better on Lili's floor.

Lili: Are you hitting on Sara... for me?

Pauline: I dare you-

Lili: Isamu is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Pauline: Why not?

Isamu: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Pauline: Dearly Beloved, we are here today to remember Isamu, taken from us in the prime of life; when they were crushed by a runaway semi, driven by the Incredible Hulk.

Isamu: Aww, you knew my favorite cause of death.

Lili: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

Wid, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

Sara, whispering: Because I have little hands.

Wid: Because they have little hands.

Anna: I��ve made a spread sheet of all the crime in Brooklyn.

Anna: There’s so much crime in New York, no one should live here.

Lili: Pros and cons of dating me.

Lili: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Lili: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Shiyu: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Pauline: The cow??

Shiyu: What?

Isamu: Pauline, W H Y?

Lili: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes?

Sara: For the dogs.

Wid: Why are your tongues purple?

Isamu, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Shiyu: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

Isamu: Is this your plan B?

Lili: What do you call quantums of electromagnetic radiation that don’t get along?

Sara: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Isamu!

Anna: Truth or dare?

Isamu: How many children do you have?

Isamu, tearing up the room: Where are they?

Sara, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed?

Isamu: I failed my safety training course today.

Pauline, watching Isamu and Sara fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

(ok but this is kinda accurate)

Isamu: Do you want some tea?

Pauline: I have an idea.

Wid: When I was a kid, Isamu told me that the paper strip that’s in the chocolate kisses were edible and I ate them with the chocolate for a year.

Pauline: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

Shiyu: What's wrong with you?

Wid: I intend to stay pissed at you forever.

Anna, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks.

Anna, holding a rock: Isamu just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock".

Anna: What do you have?

Pauline: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions.

Lili: Alright, listen up you little shits.

Anna: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Pauline: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car?

Sara: How stupid do you think I am?!

Pauline: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Lili: I'm going the fight the next person who insults Pauline.

Lili: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions?

Anna: I wanna die.

Shiyu: Are you sure this is safe?

Wid: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Isamu: The time to act is now.

Isamu: Shiyu won’t wake up, what do I do?

Isamu: Why doesn’t Pauline find me sexy when I bite my lip?

Wid: Anna's first detention, I'm so proud.

Pauline: She's the girl of my dreams!

(and now, an only ship edition)

Pauline: So, are you two dating now?

Anna: I didn't drink that much last night.

Anna: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Shiyu: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Isamu: *sees Anna and Pauline together*

Pauline: Two years ago, I married my best friend.

Anna: Well, remember when Lili made a romantic dinner for me?

Isamu: Sara, let’s go!

Anna: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Wid: Is this your plan B?

Shiyu: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!

Lili: I find it very unseemly of Shiyu to start dating again. Isn't the customary period of mourning 10 years?

Shiyu: Hey, Pauline? Can I get some dating advice?

Shiyu: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you...

Isamu: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Anna: Guys, my friend here is bilingual.

Sara: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Anna: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

Shiyu: Isamu kissed me!

Sara: Ooh, somebody has a crush

Lili: *sees Anna and Shiyu together*

*playing twister*

Wid: So, what is Shiyu to you?

Shiyu: Why are your tongues purple?

#incorrect nacho

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rosesinmars · 5 years ago

Text

In These Walls, Colson Baker, MGK

It was hard.

It was always hard.

It was hard at the begin, when you two were hanging out with the homies and you had to pretend that you were just friends.

It was hard when he was touring around the world, and you at home, missing him with every inch of your soul.

It was hard seeing him party like hell with all those groupies like he didn't care about you at all.

So I admit I took advantage of your precious time, I admit I took advantage of you every night that I was on the road, even at home I wouldn't do you right I'll admit it

But nothing was as hard as when you break up with him. You loved him with all your being, you still did and you knew you would always. Your heart never broke as much as when you saw him crying when you told him it was over. You couldn't bare to see him cry, it wasn't like him to cry, and all that you wanted was to run into his arms and tell him that it would all be alright. But you couldn't, not if you still wanted to preserve that little bit of self love you still manage to have.

Colson was the love of your life and you did believe that you two would be forever, you knew he was the one, but you couldn't bare to see him destroy himself slowly, you tried your best to help him, but no one can help someone who don't want to be helped.

You said even if it took forever, that me and you would be together and I never thought that you would lie

You threw yourself into the depths of sadness after your break up, and the fact that none of your friends knew that you two had been in a relationship, just made the things worst, because you had no one to talk about it. And to get things even worst - if possible - the whole world was shouting warning signs and suddenly an endless quarantine period was all over us, and now locked up in your house, Colson wouldn't leave your mind.

And if it wasn't enough, the universe decided to make more fun of you by putting Colson constantly on all of your timelines on all social media platforms with his damned Lockdown Sessions. And they were damn good. You watched all of them, everyday. You missed him so bad.

I feel you in these walls, you're a cold air creeping in, chill me to my bones and skin

There wasn't a day of his session you would miss, you heard his Misery Business cover, the Smoke and Drive, the Oasis cover with Dom, What's Popping, and by the time he put Pretty Toxic Revolver out, you told yourself it was enough. You were down, and going as down as it was possible and keep relying on the past was just make you more insane if possible. After that one, you tried to avoid internet, or better saying, every damn technological thing.

I heard you down the hall, but it's vacant when I'm looking in. Oh, who let you in?

The days went by and you try to do everything that you enjoyed in order to keep your mind busy and far away from him. You painted, you wrote, you cooked, anything that came to your mind.

I caught you walking straight through my walls, guess it was all my fault. I think I let you in

But you wonder how long would your "so-called peace" last. Even though you were taking some rest from technology you would still text your homies from time to time, just to let them know that you were still alive. But a then you got a call from your bestie Mod, one that was poorly healthy for your soul.

Mod was beyond happy, even for himself. He was finally putting his new music out, and it was just a three days waiting now. You were happy for him, but then he asked that damned question, the one that broke you on the inside.

"We are going to Colson's tomorrow's, birthday surprise! Are you coming?"

What could you say? Sure as hell you couldn't go, see him in person was more than you could handle right know, or ever for what matters. But you couldn't surely come up with some lame excuse, you were locked up in your house, like a couple of miles away from them. So you said, "of course, I will be there". But there was no way you would. Whatever what questions they would all have about you not showing up, you could just avoid them all. Quarantine privileges.

What a fuckin' childish behaviour, you thought, ashamed of yourself.

And then you remembered the present you had ordered for him when you two were still together, already thinking about his birthday. It was something meaningful and that would have to take some time in order to be prepared in the day. You completely forgot to cancel it after the break up. You then found yourself going to pick up the damn present, you couldn't forgive yourself if you didn't, even not together now, Colson meant too much to you.

His birthday finally came, and you put together the rest of your decency to call Mod and tell him that you weren't going because you weren't feeling quite well, but if he could still go throw your house.

And he did. You gave him Colson's present and asked him to take it to him and so he did, and you went inside again, with tears in your eyes.

You turned the internet on again, after some weeks away from it, and were right away welcomed with a twitter notification from Colson, from the day before:

"it's my birthday tomorrow but it doesn't feel like it.."

You felt your weak heart aching. You wish you could just be with him, cuddle him, run back to him. And then the Lockdown Session popped up as well.

"this one is called "In These Walls" 💔" he wrote in his instagram post, and immediately you listened Lynn Gunn's voice singing one of yours favourite songs ever, and you couldn't help to listening it to until end.

By the end of the song, you couldn't even breathe. Tears were streaming down your face and you couldn't find a way to control your sobs. He looked so down. First you felt a tearing sadness taking hold of you but as the song started to play again, the lyrics starting to settle in the back of your head, you started to feel angry. Without realising, you were grieving your relationship, and going through all the stages, and this one was clearly promising to be far beyond calm. And so you fell in the mistake of texting him.

You said I never wrote a song for you, so I hope this one is haunting you

.・。.・♪♩♬ ♪

Mod arrived to Colson's house at the same time as all the others that wasn't already there. Holding a small birthday cake in one hand and trying really hard to not break whatever was in that goddamn big and heavy box that his best friend had ask him to gave Colson.

Mod wished happy birthday to his other best friend and hugged him with all the happiness in the world, God knew how much he missed him. After everyone present wished an happy dirty thirty to the birthday boy, the one and only blowed the candles on his pink cake and silently begged for his birthday wish to come true.

With no possibilities of throwing a party all together, all the homies returned to their own houses, and Mod took the change to finally do what his best friend asked him to.

"She couldn't make it, but she asked me to give you this." Mod told Colson right before going back to his house.

A shiver went through all his body as soon Mod spoke those words, but he kept it cool. He said goodbye to his friend and went inside with the present. Should he sent a thank you to her? Would it be okay or weird? But if he didn't, it would be impolite, right?

Who was he trying to fool? She remembered. She bought something for him, he didn't even knew what was, but his heart was somehow harm but still in pain.

Colson grabbed his phone to sent her a message, but when he did, he found one of her already there.

"Wish granted" it said.

Colson looked confused at his phone, the silly thought of his birthday wish on his mind. He had wish for her to talk with him again, but could it really be?

He took upon himself to call her. Only one single try, if he would be lucky enough, she would answer it.

And it was, or at least so he thought.

- Hey, I called you to...

- What the fuck is wrong with you?! — she cut his words, her voice sounding broken. She was crying, there were no doubts.

Colson hold his breath without even nothing, that was completely unexpected.

- I... — he tried, not actually knowing how to finish that sentence.

- That fuckin' song! How could you? — she shouted. — You... Like you are being through something! You really be there fuckin' pretending that it's all my fault, aren't you?!

- What song? — Colson said as calm as he could.

- The Pvris one! — she kept shouting at him. — "Cause he killed all the other girls in the damn frame for a queen that he never realized had fangs"?! You know what? Fuck you, Colson Baker! — she said right before hanging up on him.

He threw his phone in the damn sofa, taking his hair in his hands in a desperate movement. Of course that somehow he had to make things with her even worst than it was already.

The present was still in front of him, unopened, like some cursed box. With his wrecked heart in his hands, he forced himself to open the present, and when he finally did, he couldn't believe in his own eyes. Right inside that big box was a guitar. His favourite type, a ES-335, Gibson. A pink one.

He took it out of the box in wonder, but his surprise was to find a inscription on its back.

"By your side forever, even if it's in your Downfall"

He felt tears forming on his eyes. He felt so broken without her, he couldn't be himself without her by his side. He wasn't he if she wasn't there. Even after all that time apart from her, he could still see her face every damn time he closed his eyes.

I can see your face, man I feel insane

Colson tried to call her again, but she wouldn't answer and he couldn't no longer leave the things as they are. He wouldn't handle it.

Don't think for a minute I'ma let you convince me that what we started is finished, or for a second that I wouldn't take a bullet to the head for you, paint the bottom of my floor red for you

He grab a damn skate and made his way to her house, he jumped the front gate of her house like he did many nights when they were still together and then he knocked in her front door. He knocked so damn much and hard that his knuckles were starting to get red. He would stay there all day and night if it needed. He wouldn't leave without talking with her.

She still had tears in her eyes when she answered the door, and when she saw Colson, one more fell from her eyes. She tried to close the door, not wanting to talk or see him in that moment, but he slipped a foot in, stoping her of closing the door on his face.

He forced himself through her towards the inside of the house.

- Please. — it was all that he managed to whisper as he place his hands in her face.

- Colson... — she started, her voice completely broken at the sight of tears in the love of her life's eyes.

- I beg you... — he insisted, pulling her to him, wrapping her in a hug so tight that could crash their bones, and she started to cry, and felt him doing the same.

Never thought that I would feel like this, such a mess when I'm in your presence

It's bitter how you could be in the place where you most wanted to be and still feel yourself as much broken as you could be.

Colson tighten even more the embrace, and you two just stood there crying, trying to heal the wounds left by the time you were apart from each other, in each other's arms.

26.Apr.20

#machine gun kelly #tickets to my downfall #hotel diablo #mgk #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk imagine #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #colson baker #colson baker x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fanfiction #imagine

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puckngrind · 4 years ago

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What’s In A Name: 7 - J. Toews

Chapter 7.

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah were on vacation in Sedona when discussions changed the tone of things.

Warnings: smut, language, mentions of fighting and injury

Word Count: 3,380

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Worlds.

Their worlds collided every single time they were together then life went on as normal. Jon ended up winning Gold at the World Cup of Hockey and the first call was to Bekah.

“I wish you were here for this.” He breathed out upon her answering. She could hear his teammates celebrating in the background.

“Congrats Tae!” Bekah felt guilt of saying no, even with her new passport’s arrival, flood her body in that moment. She had taken most of her vacation time off and his schedule for this tournament was tight. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.” She bit her lip as she remembers the conversation back in Sedona and could hear Jon’s smile through the phone. Their conversation was light then Jon was getting pulled away.

“I’ll see you in Columbus in a few weeks!” With that he was off. This was the second start of the season Bekah had been talking to Jon, so it was no surprise to her when she didn’t hear much from him during training camp. The team had a rough start and the fight Jon had on the ice against Nashville was proof. Bekah wasn’t sure what to think every time she would see him fight. It was barbaric but yet a turn on. Cursing her body as she sees him swinging at Neal on her screen knowing she wouldn’t see him for another week. She was never a hockey fan but her time at home working on her current project was usually done with Jon’s game as background noise. It became a habit and she didn’t hate it. Jon secretly relished in the fact that she watched his games.

The following week Jon was in Columbus. And just like every other time, the two spent all of his down time while in town in bed. Even with months between seeing each other, every time they were together it was as if no time was lost. Their bodies didn’t skip a beat when they would meet. The two had muscle memory for each other. Before Bekah left the next morning Jon pulls her tightly into his chest with a force that was soft but dominate.

“Can we talk about the holidays? Or you coming to Chicago for a weekend? Because, Beks, not seeing you for months and months absolutely kills me.” He admits.

“Like Christmas or Thanksgiving, Tae?” Bekah’s eyebrow and voice question Jon’s.

“Well my Thanksgiving was a few weeks ago.” Jon laughs.

“Oh right, Canadian.” Bekah retorts.

“I meant Christmas, Beks. I have a few days off and my family it coming to Chicago this year.” His fingers lift her chin up to look her in the eyes.

“Oh! Well. Uh...family?” Bekah feels the heat racing to her face.

“I love the way you blush just so you know.” His hand brushes her cheek. “Just think about it. They would love to see you again and of course, I want to see you.” Jon kisses her lips and leaves the conversation open for later.

Thanksgiving morning Bekah’s phone rings super early. She assumed it would be her mom double checking that Bekah had the pies covered for dinner which was really almost lunch. “Mom, I made the pies last night.” Her voice was groggy.

“Bekah, It’s Brynn. Jon got hurt last night. Have you talked to him?” Bekah rubbed her eyes and pulled the phone away from her head. An unknown number called her in the middle of the night and since she only had Jon’s number programmed to ring that late, she missed the call.

“Fuck. What? I... should... is he okay? What time is it in San Jose? Damnit. I didn’t watch because I was baking and fell asleep.” The realization of the unknown setting in.

“All I know is he didn’t come out for the 3rd period and Derek thinks it’s his back but maybe a concussion.” Brynn’s voice was ringing in Bekah’s ear. The two hung up and Bekah paced her bedroom floor then decided to text Jon given the time difference.

“Hey Beks.” She could hear the pain in his voice. He explained the injury told her he was day-to-day and suggested they talk to each other after her family’s holiday festivities. She didn’t know how to take it all in knowing he was across the country hurting. Then when Jon called again to tell her that he was headed back to Chicago and not with the team, Bekah booked a flight and took a cab to his place. She didn’t fully think it through as she leaned against his gate with a dead phone battery and no sign of Jon. She was contemplating walking towards the larger buildings of downtown or even campus when a SUV pulled up. She clutched her bag until Jon’s face was illuminated from the passenger seat and the Blackhawks symbol flashed in the street light as the door swung open.

“What are you doing here and why didn’t you tell me?” Jon tenderly steps out of the car and makes his way to her. Kissing her sweetly cupping her cold cheeks in his warm hands.

“I got worried and I have Monday off plus your voice Jon. Your voice when you told me you were headed back to Chicago said come.” The look of concern written across her face.

“I didn’t ask you to...” Jon’s face contorts knowing he wanted her there but didn’t want to pull her away from her family.

“I wanted to. Can we head in because it’s cold and I’ve been here awhile?” Jon nods and slowly makes his way inside with Bekah at his tail. His injury was bad enough to potentially sit out the next few games she knew it was killing him and she saw the frustration in the way he slept. Before heading to the airport Monday afternoon, Jon asked again about Christmas.

“Could I fly out Christmas evening?” She went to pull him in and stopped when she sees the grimace on his face. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I think that will work. Plus we play a home game on the 27th if you stay that late. You could wear my sweater.” His wink was all she needed. The flight back Bekah took in the short trip and realized in the almost two years of knowing Jon this was the first time they didn’t have sex while in the same city. They made out while watching movies, cooked together, showered together, and slept snuggled into each other. Her focus was being there for him and his injury and less of the sex that seemed to drive most of their shorter trips. She snuggled up into her sweatshirt trying not to think about what that meant but how she could make sure her Christmas trip was work free.

Christmas came and Bekah was shocked how seamless and not out of place she felt with Jon’s family. Well that was until they spoke French which was frequently and Jon made an effort to switch to English when he noticed Bekah’s face all scrunched up trying to follow. Jon laughed hard when she admitted in bed that night that while she has not a fucking clue what they were saying but she was sure it was about her.

“Not usually Beks. Well some of it was about you.” Jon kisses her and she huffs out with his admission.

“It is damn sexy coming out of your mouth even if it’s frustrating not understanding you.” Bekah runs her finger over his lips and he sucks them into his mouth.

“c'est noté.” Jon whispers. “Noted.”

The next few days were filled with getting to know his family but Jon made sure to sneak out with just Bekah too. The two said their goodbyes with discussions of seeing each other soon then Bekah was back home and back to her routine of life in Columbus.

“See, told ya!” Brynn shouted as Bekah caught up with her friend over wine on New Years Eve. “Name it whatever you two want name it but friend, that all screams girlfriend. Christmas with his family. Romantic stroll in Chicago. Watching another game with the Toews family. G-i-r-l-f-r-i-e-n-d.” Brynn tips her glass towards Bekah.

“We are not doing this again.” Bekah pulls her knees into her chest.

“We aren’t doing this but who is blowing up your phone right now?” Brynn points to the newest text alert.

“Can we just watch the game?” Bekah picks up her phone and flicks a finger at the television.

“Sure your hot ass hockey man is just chilling in his St. Louis hotel room alone texting you while he waits to play in the Winter fucking Classic where we SHOULD be right now... BUT no. I’m sitting here desperate for a tiny glimpse of my husband on the screen because he’s in Minnesota for New Years.” Brynn’s annoyance that Bekah didn’t tell her about the Winter Classic invite until that night was audible in her exhale.

“Rin, I was just with him plus that game is outside, in January.” Bekah looks down at her phone again and shivers thinking of watching hockey outside.

“And you are telling me New Years sex with that man wouldn’t be mind blowing?” Brynn’s eyes flashed to Bekah. “And the Winter Classic outside is kinda the point.”

“Oh! I see Derek!” Bekah points at the screen attempting to distract her bestie.

“Nice try. We don’t have to talk about it for now. When are you seeing each other again?” Brynn chirped.

“I don’t know. He said something about All-Star break but definitely after the season.” Bekah runs her finger over the rim of her wine glass.

“All star break is like your anniversary. What 2 years now?” Counting from the 2015 game on her fingers.

“Cannot have an anniversary when you don’t have a relationship...” Bekah’s voice tapers off.

“For the love of all things, Bekah.” Brynn pokes at her bestie in frustration. “I keep adding to my original list just so you know. ‘Shit that makes this a relationship when the two of you won’t call it what it is’ a growing list by yours truly.” Brynn ticks off her fingers mentally adding to the list.

“Well, All-Star break. He wants me to come to LA. Some gala before the game. That equals fancy dress Rin. Your girl doesn’t have a fancy dress.” Bekah keeps her eyes on the game and only turns when she realizes Brynn hasn’t responded yet. Her mouth dropped open staring at Bekah. “You okay?” She questions.

“The man wants to take you to the NHL 100 Gala. As his date? We will find you a fancy ass dress Bekah.” Brynn squeals her best friend’s name.

“Is this a big thing?” Bekah feels the lump in her throat.

“Yes. I’m assuming he’s being named one of the top 100 NHL players of the century. It’s a big fucking deal.” Brynn tosses her hands up in the air to exaggerate her point.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t... hmmm.” Bekah eyes Jon’s latest text which have gone from innocent conversation to very much missing her in the course of a few hours.

“Oh you are going!” Brynn almost shouted. “You are definitely going. I’ll request off work FOR you. Here, I’ll do it right fucking now. Ask Jon how many days he plans on sexing you up in SoCal.” Brynn points her finger at the phone again.

“Rin. Did you just?” Bekah just looks at her and back at Jon’s text about FaceTiming later.

“You two are hot for each other and adorable together.” She points to the newest alert. “And damnit have you looked at him? Of course you have. You get that handsome hockey man with the ass everyone is jealous of all to yourself whenever you want it too. Like you could be under him right now instead of sitting on my couch. He clearly thinks the same thing because I’m only assuming he’s sexting by the way your face looks.” Rin sips her wine in satisfaction of reading her best friend’s non-verbals so well.

“I.... uh...”Bekah’s head was spinning.

“You will take off. We will get you one amazing dress that will make that man melt. And you can FaceTime that man when you get home and tell him you are spending those few days in the warmth of Southern California with him before you start other things.” Brynn smile is mischievous as she takes in Bekah’s expression.

Like most trips, Jon met Bekah at the airport in Los Angeles. She was nervous about the events and the inevitable pictures but the way Jon reassured her made it all bearable. She watched him do roundtable discussions with men that the other grown men in the room were drooling over the way she would over a boy-bander in high school. She felt her skin heat up when they walked the red carpet. Jon pulled her close, kissed her temple and whispered, “when we stop just look up at me if you want okay?” She nodded and she did just that. Then she stepped back and admired the way Jon was so easy in front of the camera. He looked back once and she felt his energy radiating through her.

The All-Star game festivities were entertaining. Jon was so relaxed and Bekah felt it. They closed the door of their hotel room after the last event. “Thanks for coming Beks. Being my date. Doing all the standing and waiting things. Looking hot in that dress and my sweater so I could not think straight.” His breath was warm on her neck. His fingers roaming her skin.

“It’s getting easier the more things I do with you.” Bekah admits and moves her head to give Jon more room to suck the sweet spot he knew made her weak.

“Then maybe if we make the playoffs you will come and wear the cute jean jackets the girls have with my name and number on the back?” Jon doesn’t release Bekah from his hold.

“What?” The way Jon was making her feel was clouding Bekah’s head.

“We can talk later.” Jon pulls Bekah’s legs up so her core is pressed against his hard cock. She moans forgetting the need to clear up his statement and wraps her legs around him to move up and down needing more friction. “My girl needs me eh?”

“You are damn sexy in that suit Mr. Toews but I’d like you out of it now.” Bekah bites at his neck.

“You don’t have to ask me twice Beks.” Jon moves and Bekah groans when the pressure is gone. “Oh, my girl REALLY needs me?” Jon laughs and starts discarding both of their clothes. Bekah’s nails scrape down his torso and she drops to her knees. “Beks.” He breathes out and leans into the bed. She licks the pre cum off the head and slowly slides her lips around him. “Fuck.” Jon’s voice catches in his throat. She releases for a moment to look how unglued he was. Always so meticulous but she seemed to have a power over him no one else possessed which sent a current coursing through her body just thinking about it. “Where do you want me Tae?” She kisses under his length and blinks up at him. Jon’s eyes were closed but he blinks them open.

“I want inside you, Beks.” He whispers. She licks from his base to his tip again before moving up his body.

“Oh yeah?” She kisses his lips and feels his tongue asking for permission but she pulls away. He groans out of being denied. “Remember after your cup win when you bent me over the couch?” She smirks at him and runs her finger down his jawline.

“Yeah.” He huffed out. “I was embarrassingly a quick draw.” he looks into Bekah’s eyes and sees a spark. Her eyes flutter towards the couch.

“Wanna bend me over that Tae?” She bites her lip.

“Yes. Fuck yes.” Jon stands and walks Bekah backwards until her ass hits the back of the couch. Tenderly he flips her around and she braces herself. Jon slides in slowly and both moan out of the need. His hips work faster slamming into Bekah as she begs for more. The sweat dripping down both of them as Bekah presses herself into each of Jon’s movements. Bekah releases a hand from the death grip on the leather to her clit. “Beks that’s hot. Come on Baby.” Jon grunts feeling his climax coming. Bekah moans out his name and the two hit their highs. Jon doesn’t let up when she releases her hand from herself. He slowly lowers his body on hers kissing between her shoulder blades.

“Well...” Bekah tries to talk but her breath is labored.

“Well that’s what you deserved after my cup win Beks.” This causes both to laugh as Jon moves both of their bodies so she’s pressed against his chest.

“Oh you made up for it, Tae.” Bekah looks up into his brown eyes that are saying more than the words he’s spoken. “Now can we shower and talk about this jacket thing?” Her fingers dance on his collarbone.

“It’s nothing really just the girls get these jackets for playoffs. You would look good in one that’s all.” Jon leads her to the shower.

“Like a WAG thing, Jon?” Bekah asks as the reach the shower.

“Just a you are mine kinda thing.” Jon pulls her under the water spray.

“I’m yours Tae?” Bekah looks up at Jon with the water rolling down his body.

“Yeah Beks. You are mine. You mean more to me than anyone or anything else.” He kisses her hard letting the water run over their connected bodies. “I don’t care who knows it either.” He pulls her up into him and starts to wash them both.

They settled in bed that night and Jon quickly falls asleep from the weekend of events.

“Jon are you awake?” Bekah whispers in the middle of the night.

“No.” He mumbles in her neck.

“Jon, you got a very big award this weekend. Only 100 NHL players past and present got it. That’s big. Like really big.” She leans back a little.

“Is that keeping you up?” Jon kisses her.

“No, well... yes... no. I’m just curious. Are there awards and things I don’t know about? You were sitting with hall of famers and fit right in. That’s a big deal. You are big deal.” Her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve still never googled me Beks?” Jon’s eyebrow shoots up.

“Well, after googling Blackhawks WAGS and seeing a picture of you with someone else I decided that I’d just learn about you from you.” Bekah admits.

“Well, you know about most of them. Three cups, two Olympic golds, some MVPs and such.” Jon kisses her lips again.

“Wait, you have two Olympic gold medals?” She sits up.

“Yeah. I know you watch the Olympics. I’ve seen your closet.” Jon sits up remembering giving her shit about all the Team USA and Olympic apparel she had. He pulls her into his chest.

“Yeah, but I clearly didn’t realize you were on both Gold winning teams and I didn’t much pay attention to hockey before you.”

Jon laughs, “true.”

“And most don’t have all that?” She questions.

“Well, no, not really.” Jon hesitates. “What’s in your brain Beks?”

“Just trying to process why me, I guess. When you are so... you know, you.” Bekah admits.

“Beks.” Jon whispers. “You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and we have the rhythm I’ve never had with anyone else. Plus I kinda love the fact that you don’t care about all the accolades and almost would prefer not to be in the spotlight even though I wish you were by my side for all the work things.” His lips kiss just behind her ear. Both sat in the quiet for a moment.

“Yeah, but our lives are in two different cities, Tae.” Bekah finally lets his words soak in.

“But they don’t have to be, Babe. You could always come to Chicago.” Jon answers simply but what he was saying had real weight to it and they both knew it.

#What's in a name fic #WIAN #Jonathan Toews fic #jonathan toews #j toews fic #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#happens in the 2016-2017 NHL season

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bluewhale52 · 4 years ago

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The History of Us - Ch. 32

Synopsis: You have built your career and you have 2 rising hip hop superstars as your besties. Life is pretty good, until one drunken night that derails your life plan. How would you survive?

Pairing: ?? x OC , main characters are mostly Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae, but all 7 are present now

Fic type: text

WC: 1.9k

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, fluff, angst, NSFW

Rated: R

Warning: pregnancy, labor, swearing, JK is just the best

Disclaimer: photos are not mine, and of course characterization and scenarios of the boys are purely of my imagination

Masterlist | Next>>

Ch. 32 - Let’s Get It

28 June 2019, 9:35pm

Jungkook and Taehyun sit on your sofa, frozen in place, eyes wide and full of fear. You get off the phone with the hospital, and signal to them that you are ready to leave. The boys immediately jump up- Taehyun grabs your overnight bag, while Jungkook gingerly supports you. Slowly you make your way to Taehyun’s car (well Jin’s really, he has entrusted his car to his PA for an emergency such as this), stopping a few times when you have to endure and breathe through your contractions.

The cramps started in the late morning with little bearable aches on your lower back and lower abdomen, nothing too different than the monthly period cramps. Then those aches gradually picked up their intensity, and by dinner, you were wailing in your apartment.

Jungkook has stayed with you all day and witnessed first hand the pre-labour process. You have forbidden him to tell anyone in the group chat, not wanting to worry your friends. When evening came, Jungkook could not take it anymore and called Taehyun. Lucky that he did, as the contractions were getting even worse, and at least Jungkook has a friend to freak out together with.

And now, here you are in the backseat, giving Jungkook’s hand a deadly grip whenever the pains come on. Taehyun is driving, going as fast as he can within the speed limits, panicking every time he hears you wail and curse.

Arriving at the hospital, Taehyun haphazardly parks the car in front of the ER and shoots out to find a wheelchair. Jungkook helps you get out, wrapping you in his arms as you cry through another contraction.

Jungkook has never seen you like this. A bawling mess and completely helpless. Even during the period when you were broken up with Taehyung, which Jungkook knows to be one of the hardest moments in your life, you were stoic, strong and in control. But now, Jungkook feels utterly hopeless.

At the maternity ward, the midwife only allows one person to accompany you, so Taehyun stays outside at the waiting area. She then quickly checks on you and preps you for labour. Jungkook turns away when you are changed into a hospital gown, but he stays by your side, probably because you haven’t eased up your grip on his hand.

“Your water has not broken yet, and you’re only dilated 7cm.” The midwife announces. Then she turns to Jungkook, “You’re dad?”

Jungkook shakes his head, eyes still wide in fear and confusion.

“No,” you gasp, “dad is not here.”

“OK, we’re going to roll you in to wait for labour to commence. You want him to come in with you till Dad arrives?” The midwife asks gently.

You nod your head. Jungkook gulps.

28 June 2019, 10:05pm

You’re clutching onto Jungkook as another bout of pain courses through you. He hugs you, rubbing your shoulders gently. It is the only thing he can do, wishing somehow it helps.

You feel the cold sensation of the antiseptic on your spine. You sense Jungkook’s body tensing. You have seen the needles used in epidural, and how it is injected into the body. But all this is new to Jungkook.

“Kook,” you whisper, “just close your eyes.”

He whimpers like a scared puppy, but he can’t help himself to look. “Oh my god Noona, it’s so long.”

“Yes,” you pant, “I know. Just don’t look, OK, it’s not pretty.”

The anaesthetist is ready. “OK, let’s wait for this contraction to pass... and now, hold on to him and take a deep breath...” You feel the metal tip of the needle pricks your skin, but you don’t feel the needle going in, you don’t feel any pain other than the severe pressure on your lower back and abdomen.

Jungkook continues to whimper, a series of ‘Oh my God’ continue leaving his mouth. You are starting to worry if he is going to faint, so you pinch his arm sharply.

“Ouch!” Jungkook yelps. “That hurts, Noona!”

The midwife next to you laughs. “Oh honey, don’t talk about pain to a woman in labour.”

You glare at Jungkook. “Don’t. Fucking. Faint. On. Me.”

Jungkook wants to throw up. The whole epidural injection is making his stomach queasy. But he swallows his bile and continues to hold you, humming a song you recognise as Jimin’s, to distract himself.

Once the epidural kicks in, you feel somewhat normal, and Jungkook can breathe easily again.

“You’re still not fully dilated yet, so we’re going to wait for a couple more hours, OK? Meanwhile, try to get some sleep.” The midwife suggests.

You settle on your bed. exhausted. “Fuck, Jungkook. Don’t have kids.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. “Noona, that was so scary. Do you know how long that needle was? And it went right into your spine!”

You laugh weakly as you pat his head. “Any news from Tae or Jin?”

Jungkook takes out his phone. There are a flurry of messages from Taehyun and in the group chat. He skims through them. “Taehyun said Jin Hyung should be able to fly out in the morning, so he'll be here by tomorrow night.” He scrolls further. “Taehyung Hyung may take longer, Noona. Maybe two days from now.”

Your first child together with those two men and none of them is here with you. Jungkook sees your face crumple and immediately strokes your hair. “Noona, don’t cry please.”

You take a deep breath. “Then it’s just you and me, Kookie.”

He smiles nervously, but his doe eyes are full of sincerity. “You got me Noona. I’ll stay by your side till Little Miss arrives.”

~~~

29 June 2019, 0145am

You wake up in a daze, almost forgetting where you are. You hear the beeping sound of the machine next to you. You rub your belly as you coo to your baby. “How long more do we need to wait, baby? I can't wait to see you.”

Jungkook is fast asleep in his chair, right next to your bed. You reach out and play with his hair, thankful for his presence at the absence of your lover and your baby daddy. He jerks awake however, at the sounds coming into the delivery room.

Dr Choi enters with the midwife. After a quick update on your condition, he positions himself before you. “OK, you’re dilated fully now, but your water still hasn’t broken yet. Everything else points to baby getting ready to pop out, so we’re going to break your water.”

Jungkook immediately straightens up. Dr Choi looks at him. “He’s new.” The ob-gyn points out to you.

“They're not here,” you feel the need to clarify, your doctor obviously expected to see Taehyung or Jin, “and this one is a friend.”

Dr Choi nods. “OK then, young man, let’s meet baby!”

Jungkook looks at you and takes a deep breath. “Let’s get it.” He says nervously.

~~~

29 June 2019, 0230am

You collapse onto the bed. You feel like you have been pushing and pushing for hours, but there is no progress. The baby just will not come out. Jungkook tightens his arm around your shoulders, supporting you as you try to push again at the midwife’s command.

Dr Choi asks for forceps, and Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of the tool. “Noona, what’s that for...” He whispers.

“Shut up Jungkook, just hold my hand!” You shout at him in frustration.

He obediently secures his grip on your hand, and while he is horrified by the whole labour procedure, curiosity is starting to get the better of him. He tries to peek at what is happening between your legs.

Dr Choi pulls the forceps out, blood staining the metal. Jungkook gasps. “Noona, there’s blood..” He stops as he sees you glaring at him.

Dr Choi’s face indicates the tool has not helped to progress the delivery either. “I’m afraid we’ll have to do an episiotomy.”

You nod your head, trusting him and his years of experience to get your baby out. Jungkook turns to you. “What.. what is that?”

“You don’t want to know.” You mutter.

Dr Choi however, is pleased to describe what he is doing, to Jungkook. “I’m going to cut the skin between her vaginal opening and her anus, to enlarge the opening for baby.” Dr Choi smiles. “Don’t worry, she won’t feel a thing, the epidural is in full force here.”

Jungkook squeezes your shoulders in fright. “Oh my god, Noona, he’s going to cut you down there, are y-”

“JUNGKOOK JUST SHUT UP!” you scold him.

“But Noona, that's so fucked up, it’s down there..”

You grab his shirt. “SHUT. UP.”

“OK!” Dr Choi exclaims, almost cheerfully. “This should do the trick. OK, ready to push on the next contraction?”

~~~

29 June 2019, 02:51am

“OK, the head is here, just one more push!”

Jungkook is now sitting behind you, his broad chest supporting you and his hands have become your anchor. “You can do it, Noona, she’s almost here.”

He has transformed from a blubbering, nervous delivery partner to your loudest cheerleader. You want to punch and kiss him at the same time.

At the midwife’s signal to push, you push again with all your might. In doing so, you squeeze Jungkook’s hands even harder, and he swallows his yelp, too excited to see your baby soon, and also too scared at the possibility you would shout at him again.

“Shoulders... and there she is!” Dr Choi announces.

You feel a massive relief on your lower abdomen as your baby is born, and you collapse onto Jungkook’s chest, finally letting out all the tears. Congratulations are going all around, but you notice you hear no crying from your baby.

“Jungkook, she’s not crying. She's not crying.” You start to panic.

Jungkook rubs your arms. “The nurses are taking her away to check her Noona.” He says soothingly. “I’m sure Little Miss is fine.”

You continue holding onto his hands tightly, worry and fear now in full swing. Dr Choi returns to his seat before you, and explains in a much calmer tone that he is going to get your placenta out, before sewing the incision that he had to do earlier.

You start crying into Jungkook’s neck, all you want to do now is hold your baby. You are aware of the risk of giving birth a month earlier than your due date, and you cannot help but think of the worst. Jungkook cradles you, singing to you to calm you down.

A few minutes later, the midwife comes back with your baby loosely wrapped in a swaddle. She eases your worry by telling you that Little Miss has passed all the checks, and despite being premature, she is as healthy as they come. You sob in relief, and you ask Jungkook to continue staying by your side even as the midwife removes your gown for your long awaited skin-to-skin contact with Little Miss.

“Noona, she’s tiny.” Jungkook whispers, eyes hypnotised by the baby on your bosom.

“How big do you think she’d be, Jungkook?” you tease him between your happy tears.

“She’ll fit in my palm.” You turn to look at him and smile affectionally as he wipes his tears. “Noona, thank you for letting me be here.”

~~~

29 June 2019, 03:12am

Published 29012021

#thetruthuntoldnet #noonasinnetwork #purplearmynet #bts x you #bts social media au #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #bts fanfic #bts fake texts #bts fluff #bts smut

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boomboomjaz · 4 years ago

Text

┍━━━━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━━━━┑

𝒾𝓂𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇

word count: 2081

genre: angst(?)

WARNING: mentions of death and blood

author note: this is for the cheese cult event

i tried my best to write about hanahaki! I

would also like to thank @haikkeiji

@agaassi @bubbleteaa @hakueishirei

and my irl bestie val for proofreading!

┕━━━━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━━━━┙

This was a curse. Being immortal was not a blessing. Whatever fantasies that were told about being immortal were nothing more than rumors. Kuroo can verify this as he himself is a victim of immortality. How or why he became immortal? He wasn’t sure. He just knew he stopped aging on the day of his 18th birthday. And ever since then, he’s been living in pain. For living as an immortal being was not an easy life; it was a twisted Peter Pan story that he never asked for.

He always relives the same pain in each era, one that always results in the death of someone he loves. Being immortal wasn’t the only curse that Kuroo received. He was born with a disease. One that was meant to kill him. It first surfaced when he was 17, which will forever be known as the first time he fell in love.

The first time he loved… Kuroo remembered it clearly. The cherry blossom trees were blooming, meaning a new season has begun. He can still see the petals falling onto the ground. Except this petal wasn’t from the cherry blossom tree. It had come from his mouth as he hunched over and coughed up petals at the feet of his first love under the cherry blossom tree. Not long after the incident, he was diagnosed with hanahaki. A disease that would ruin his life as he knew it. He discovered he was immortal on the exact same day he found out that the flower petals that were filling up his lungs. Suddenly, the petals vanished. At first, he believed that everything was over, because it meant his first love had finally returned his feelings. Then he received the news: his first love had died with flowers laying near her body.

Eventually, everyone from his first life had died. He was already living a different life in a different region, under a new name, a new identity to prevent people from finding out about his immortality. Once again, he fell in love with someone who didn’t return the feeling. And yet again, another death caused by flowers followed suit. Time and time again, each time he loved in a different time period, the person he loved always fell victim to the hanahaki effects.

Kuroo shook his head. He was once again using his real name since it’s been over two hundred years since he last heard someone say his true name. It was going to be different this time. To be sure that he didn’t cause death to another person, to another family… he swore that he would never fall in love again. That his heart doesn’t cause someone death by flowers.

You, however, did not know the secrets that Kuroo hid in his heart. The ache he felt for all the people he once loved. How he woke up in the middle of every night in a cold sweat as he remembers the different types of flowers that killed. Cherry blossoms, daffodils, lilies, gardenias, and so on. Each type of flower was burned into his mind, until one day he snapped.

“Y/N, do you mind helping me plant these in the school garden?” Kuroo asked you one day after class. He held different types of potted flowers in his arms. You were at first caught off guard by the question that your classmate and friend asked you. You would do anything for him. Your heart ached for him, craving for his attention, affection, yearning for his love. Yet, you still had yet to build the confidence to tell him how your feelings.

“I would be happy to help,” you replied with a smile. You cherished every second you spent with him. Because deep down, you knew he didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t hard to tell that whenever he was with you, he seemed distracted, deep in thought. If he had feelings for you, he would have his full attention on you. Yet, you didn’t mind since his kindness always made up for it.

In silence, the two of you worked alongside each other, carefully moving the flowers from their pots to the flower beds that Nekoma provided. Every once and a while, your arms would brush against one another. Each time, you could feel pain in your lungs. It’s as if your body was saying that Kuroo was stealing your breath away. In a twisted way, he was because after the two of you finished planting the last flower… you could feel something lodged up your throat. It felt painful, worse than the urge to throw up.

One of your hands immediately covered your mouth while the other one held on to your stomach. Kuroo saw your face in pain and discomfort, a look that he’s seen so many times. His blood turned cold as he dropped the pot that he held and rushed to your side. He patted his hand against your back, trying to help you get whatever was in your throat out. All he could think while he tried to help you were No. This can’t be happening. I couldn’t have fallen for Y/N… unless I did?

Finally, whatever was stuck in your throat came out. The contents fell out and in your hands. Your eyes widen in shock to see yellow and white flower petals mixed with hints of blood. Your body started to tremble in fear since this was something you never experienced before, nor did you know why it was happening.

Before Kuroo knew what he was doing, he had wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a hug. You trembled in his arms until you finally melted into his warmth and calmed down. Kuroo rested his head on your shoulder as he kept you in that position while he was deep in thought.

He didn’t understand how this could be happening. He made sure he didn’t fall in love you but no doubt his heart betrayed him at some point. That was the only possible reason he could think of since there was no way you had a crush on him. Kuroo knew he had to do something about his hidden love for you to make sure you didn’t end up like his past loves. To make sure you weren’t buried six deep in the ground or a reason why he wakes up at night in a cold sweat. Nor to be another flower that he could plant.

Kuroo decided to look at the flower you held in your hands. He immediately recognized it from his intense research on different types of flowers and the hanahaki disease. The yellow and white petals belonged to the chrysanthemum flower. A flower that was commonly used in funerals and signified death/grief in Japan. It pained him that you had to go through this because he couldn’t control his feelings. The idea of suggesting surgery to you hurt worse because it could destroy your life worse than death. He knew you would never fall in love with him, so pushing you away seemed like the logical choice. Boy, was he wrong.

The next few weeks were painful. Every time you tried to talk to Kuroo, he would keep his words to a minimum before he ran off to do something else. It pained you, to be ignored by the boy you were madly in love with. You could feel a nasty, twisted feeling in your heart every time you thought about him. As if something was wrapping itself around your heart, trying to squeeze all your love out. It didn’t help that your coughing fits were getting worse. Even more and more flower petals came out with more and more blood. It was getting out of hand and you knew what was causing this. It was your love for Kuroo. The doctor that you visited when told you that it was the hanahaki disease. He also told you that it shouldn’t be long before the flower disease claimed your life and that he recommends you talk with the person causing this whole mess.

You were trying to talk with Kuroo. To tell him about the love you felt for him. Hoping that he would return the love you felt. And surgery wasn’t even an option for you, because to live in a world where you cannot love Kuroo sounded like a life without meaning.

Now more than ever, you needed to tell him how you felt. For today was your last chance to confess your feelings, not only was it graduation… but you felt even weaker than before. As if your body was telling you that it was time. Time to move on from a cursed earth and go someplace else.

Kuroo looked at the text from you. Asking if the two of you could meet at the gardens. You had something important to tell him. He had to think about your request long and hard. He knew this was probably the last time he would see you before he moved to a different region to start life all over. The only hope he had was that once he was gone, your disease would go away. So, in the end, he decided to grant you this one last request.

There he stood, at the gate of the garden, watching as you were hunched over the flowers. The same ones that the two of you planted together. Most of them were blooming and with no doubt, you were probably admiring them. He took no more than two steps when he watched you fall face first in the garden bed. Kuroo wasted no time to rush by your side, pulling you out of the flowers. His eyes scanned your face and saw the endless amount of blood coming out from your mouth. Mixed with even more petals than he last had seen. He hated to admit it, but he knew you were as good as gone at this point.

Yet, he still fumbled with his phone and called for help. Kuroo clung to the last sliver of hope that you would make out of this alive. Because it was at that moment, as he shouted your name and held onto your body that he realized. That it wasn’t his love that was killing you, but his lack of love. And he knew, by the time he developed feelings for you, you would be gone.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Kuroo stood before your casket. His eyes took in the details of your peaceful face. The same one that would haunt him at night, joining all the victims of hanahaki that he caused. And as if your family knew what was going on and had a twisted sense of humor, they chose chrysanthemum as your funeral flowers. It made him sick to his stomach that the flowers that killed you were now being used to honor your memory.

He closed his eyes, feeling his heartache in pain for you. This was something you didn’t deserve. You deserved to be loved, to live a full and happy life. Yet, Kuroo took all of that away from you without even realizing it. He took one last look at your body and said his final words.

“I love you, Y/N.” he meant these four words. But they did you no good now. With that, he walked away from you, from that life that he caused so much pain in. He only hoped that in his new beginning, he won’t cause as much pain.

As he walked down a hallway, he stopped in front of a mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleeping he was getting. His bed hair was even worse than before. He was just a mess, waiting for the end to come to get him. As he was examining his hair, he noticed the smallest detail. A detail that he should have noticed before since it held significance. Among all his black hair, there were small strands of grey hair. His heart thumped in excitement as he stared at the proof of his aging. It won’t be long until he joins those he loved. But fear struck him within a minute of spotting the grey hairs. Not only did he start aging again, but his hanahaki disease returned. Kuroo opened his mouth and carefully pulled out an amaranth flower petal. The flower that means immortality. It was time.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

#cheese cult fic event #hanahacheese #cheese cult #hq kuroo #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo testuro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! au #haikyuu au #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!

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