#only to be immediately silenced by her crying and sniffling over the phone

[leslieseveride]

if they pull a sitch where either tim or lucy are waiting on the other at the restaurant they agreed to meet at thinking they've been stood up when in reality their bleeding out and hanging on by a thread i will seriously douse myself in gasoline and set myself on fire.

[italiansteebie]

Secret relationship steddie getting through vecna without suspicions from the others until steve hasn’t left eddie’s bedside for a week and he somehow knows wayne munson's phone number from memory and even gets a hug from the man when he enters the room. And he gets to stay when the others are kicked out.

It’s only when eddie wakes up that everything comes out.

He cracks open his eyes, meeting the gazes of dustin, wayne, and robin, but no steve.

“Where’s my baby?” he murmurs, and from the outside it sounds like “where mah beebee.” He watches the faces in front of him turn into something of confusion. “My baby, my baby. I want him.” It comes out clearer, and unfortunately for them wayne understands immediately and unknowingly outs them. “Steve’s off gettin’ some food, he’ll be back in just a minute,” Wayne pats eddie’s hand gently, watching as the kid smiles, eyes drooping once again.

Dustin and robin share a look but they choose to ignore it, maybe wayne heard wrong or eddie is just on too many painkillers.

Until steve walks in, seeing eddie’s eyes, tired, but open. He drops the coffee he’d brought back for wayne and bolts to eddie’s side.

Eddie raises a hand and cups steve’s face, “hey baby.” and for the first time, dustin and robin see steve harrington cry. “I told you-” he pauses to sniffle, “I told you not to be a hero,” his voice cracks, holding back tears. Eddie grabs his hand “‘M still here, baby.” and the dam breaks. Steve is sobbing into eddies chest, while the metalhead runs a weak hand through his hair.

Wayne would deny it with all his heart if anyone asked, but he shed a tear at the display in front of him, he wasn’t sure about steve harrington the first time eddie brought him home, but damn, the kid weaseled his way into his heart. And as touching as the moment was, dustin and robin where still highly confused.

Steve’s tears slowed, and he lifted his head from eddies chest, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Uh. Excuse me?” robin broke the silence, and the little world steve had found himself in shattered.

Eddie smiled though, ever the brave. “Me nd stevie are datin’. He’s mah baby.” he ended the sentence by placing a sloppy kiss on steve’s cheek. Dustin was, surprisingly, satisfied with that answer, but robin was not.

“YOU MADE FUN OF ME OVER TAMMY WHEN YOU’RE HERE WITH… HIM?”

Steve blushed, “We had just met when i started at scoops okay! It was really new, i- i didn’t know how to tell you so…. I just decided to be overly supportive by bashing your taste in women.”

This set robin off, and she didn’t stop until a nurse came in and threatened to have her removed from the premises.

[sturnioloskyline]

flu season

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)

summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands

being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.

she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.

not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.

matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.

finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.

“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.

“y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.

“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.

“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”

matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.

after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.

inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.

the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.

“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.

“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”

“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.

y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.

“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.

she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”

“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”

“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.

“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”

y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”

“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.

“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.

…

author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE

[hgfictionwriter]

Ache

Jessie Fleming x reader

Summary: Sometimes love isn't enough. Despite how much you and Jessie love each other, life gets in the way.

A/N / Warning: Angst. And no smut. Yet lol.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you rounded the corner to your apartment. Your eyes were trained on the concrete below as you dug in your pocket for your keys. The evening wind was brisk and sharp against your skin. When you lifted your gaze, the figure before you froze you in your tracks and your chest tightened immediately, breath catching in your throat.

"Jessie?"

She'd been staring at the ground and her head snapped up as she was broken from her thoughts. She shot up from where she'd been sitting on the ledge of the garden outside your building. Her eyes were wide as she looked to you and though she opened her mouth to speak, the words were lost on the tip of her tongue.

It'd been weeks since you'd talked and so much longer since she'd been to your apartment. You swallowed and internally cursed at how, even after all this time, just the sight of Jessie made your eyes prickle with the start of tears.

"Again?" She'd asked. Her voice was tired as it came through the phone and you cast your gaze down at the disappointment that bled through.

"I'm sorry. I tried to get someone else to go, but I own the account, so-"

"I know, I get it," she cut you off. There was no malice in her voice, but it wasn't any less sad. "I know you have to go."

"I'll be back on the 6th. My flight doesn't get in until after dinner, but you can come over," you told her, trying to sound positive.

"I leave for camp at 4 the next morning." Again, her words were simple and they weren't accusatory, but the heaviness between you was loud. You stopped trying to hide.

"We've only seen each other once this month," you stated.

"I know," she said quietly.

Silence began to fill your conversation.

"So, what do we do?" You finally asked. Your chest already ached knowing what the answer was. This feeling, this moment, had been creeping in for months. You'd done what you could to keep it at bay, but its inevitable arrival was here.

A few seconds later she responded.

"I don't think things are going to change any time soon." Her voice was soft, mixed with regret and acceptance. "And it shouldn't. We're both doing what we should be doing. I can't slow down - I have to make the most of my career while I can. It's the same for you."

"I know," you agreed as tears began to well in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, you know." You added with a small laugh that didn't fully veil the way your voice choked up. "And I never want to hold you back."

"I'm proud of you, too," she echoed, her own voice growing thick with emotion. "And same - I'd never want to hold you back either."

"I really love you," you continued and your voice cracked under the strain. "I hope you've felt that."

"I have." She sniffled. "I love you, too, and I hope you've never had to doubt that."

You bit down on your lip, looking up to the ceiling as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

"I guess this is it,” you said more than asked as your voice wavered.

Another sniffle came through the phone. "I think so." Her voice was taut. "I still want to be friends," she added in a rush, her voice shaking, "but this isn't working. I can't give you what you need, and..."

"I can't give you what you need," you finished for her.

"Yeah," she admitted quietly. "I've never wanted someone the way I want you. I love you so much-" her voice was breaking "-I miss you all the time. And even when we're together, it breaks my heart because I know we have to leave again soon."

"It hurts to be together and apart. I know the feeling," you relayed sadly. "I wish it wasn't this way. I can't imagine loving anyone more."

"I don't want to ask you to wait. And I know you won't ask me to wait for you because neither of us wants to make promises we can't keep."

"Jessie." Her name came out in a strangled whimper and you heard her cry.

"I can't imagine not loving you. But, if you meet someone who makes you happy and gives you what you need...," she trailed off.

"I understand. And I wish the same for you," you said even though it felt like a dagger through your heart.

Silence infiltrated your conversation once more before a laugh escaped you, though it came out more like a sob.

"I did not expect this call to go this way."

Jessie gave a watery laugh of her own. "Me neither." A pause. "I guess it's been coming though."

"I know," you relented. "I just didn't want it to be true."

After a few moments, Jessie spoke again.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Jessie. Always."

You said you'd be friends, but it was all at once too easy and too difficult. As was the problem, it wasn't that often you got to see each other or talk, but when you did, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be with her. So when she stood too close, held your gaze for too long, or when you'd hug at the end of the night and hold onto one another too tightly and for too long, it tore you apart.

That had gone on for nearly a year, and it hadn't gotten any easier. You fell back into old habits just too easily.

The last time you saw each other, at a mutual friend’s birthday, she’d come over to say “hi”. Innocent enough until something as simple as showing her something on your phone turned into you two sitting so close together your legs touched. As you talked, if you turned your head too much to the side your lips would’ve grazed her cheek. Did she mean for her hand to brush against yours?

The only way to move on was to cut yourself off completely. She'd understood and she even apologized for making things difficult, but it wasn't just her, it was you too.

Now, here she was sitting outside of your apartment, shivering and cold, looking to you and struggling to find her words.

"What are you doing here?" You finally asked. "Shouldn't you be with the team?"

"You saw?" She asked, looking so innocent and you cursed the rush of affection that rose in you.

"Win the Shield? Of course I did." You had to laugh. A smile finally broke out across her freckled face and that still too familiar pink tinge grew darker across her cheeks. You relented some. "You were great. No surprise."

Jessie began to fidget, her hands jostling in her jacket pockets and she shuffled idly from foot to foot. She scratched the back of her neck as she went back to studying the pavement. This time she managed to speak though.

"I-I'm sorry to show up out of the blue. I just - we were all celebrating, and of course I was happy, but, I-I don't know." She huffed in frustration. “I’ve been sitting here thinking and planning what I was going to say and now…”

"It's okay, Jess," you told her gently, understanding that this was not her norm and something was clearly going on. She looked up at you and gave a couple of grateful nods. She studied you for a few seconds and it pained you that even during that time you were getting lost in her eyes.

"I know you said you don't want to see me - that being around each other and talking was making it too hard to move on." She paused, though her eyes didn't leave yours. You saw her steel herself and she straightened up as she continued. "But I don't want to move on. And, to be honest, I've known it deep down for a while now.

"Today - every game, really - I found myself looking out into the crowd too many times searching for you. And when we were leaving, everyone's all stoked to go out and party, but I just wanted to be with you - anywhere with you. I wanted to share this with you. So, even after a year of me trying to tell myself that we made the right decision, I know we - or at least I - was dead wrong. Because I miss you. So much.” Her voice wavered and her eyes glistened. “It's not just this that I want to share with you - it's every day, little moments and the big. I don’t care if it has to be through text or a call most of the time. It just has to be you.”

"Jessie." You breathed her name out, trying desperately to process everything she was telling you. She took a step towards you, shoulders set and determined and she carried on.

"I love you. From the beginning and I never stopped. I know you're trying to move on, but this is me taking a chance and telling you how I feel. I don't want you to move on - I want to be the person you come home to, the person you call, with you through the good and the bad. I know our schedules are still a problem, but I'd rather have one evening with you than a year without."

Your breath hitched as her proclamations grew. You saw her clench and unclench her fists nervously before she continued.

“And even if one day you’d decide we could be friends again,” she trailed off momentarily, gaze shifting away before settling on you once again resolutely, “honestly, I don’t want to be friends. You’re right - we can’t be friends. I can’t be next to you and pretend I don’t want to hold you, I don’t want to kiss you. Or talk with you and not tell you that I love you and you mean the world to me. And,” she took a steadying breath, “I’m really hoping that you feel the same.”

Jessie fidgeted a bit, some of her doubt and insecurity creeping back in. Still, she looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"So, will you have me?"

[buzzinrusso]

Erin cuthburt×reader🙏

I WOULD NEVER //ERIN CUTHBURT

Genre:angst/fluff at the end

Prompt:you and your long term girlfriend, Erin, get into a very heated fight which results to her walking out of your house and you misunderstanding the situation.

--------------------------------------------------

"You don't get it! you never will! " Erin yelled in frustration as she paces around the room looking at a very irritated you.

"Okay! I get that but you are my girlfriend! I can't see you bury yourself with all the training sessions, workouts, photoshoots and more! " your eyes welled up with tears as you spoke. "So you know how embarrassing it is to be stood up by your own girlfriend in front of your family?! "

You're talking about the incident that occurred earlier today.

You and Erin were supposed to meet your parents and siblings for lunch, Erin had 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 you that she would show up, not wanting to stand you up another time.

Obviously that promise was broken, which lead to the heated argument you were currently having.

"How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry! I've apologized a million times already!" She said with her thick accent that came out when she was angry.

"Erin, that wasn't the only time you've stood me up. I'm your girlfriend for God's sake! You can't keep doing shit like this! You broke your promise, you said that you would go but you didn't! And you didn't even text me to say that you're not gonna be coming! I had to sit there like a fool with my family, assuring them that your were probably late! "

"Oh my gosh! So what if I broke my promise? Get fucking over it " she let out a sigh of irritation and started walking away towards your shared room.

"Don't you walk away from me! We are having this conversation now! " you started fully on crying.

You were sick of getting g stood up, you were sick of being embarrassed whenever Erin promised to show up but didn't, but in the end, you love Erin with your entire heart, too much to leave her as you fully believed that you would never have survived your dark days without her.

That's why you panicked when you spotted Erin getting her shows from the closet.

"Are you leaving? " your voice quited down a little

"I cant fucking do this anymore! " she yelled before she stormed out of the house.

Your heart stopped as you watched the scene unfold. Did you just lose the love of your life? Did she just walk out on you? She probably won't be returning.

Your mind immediately went to the worst possible answers. You didn't know what to do as sobs racked through your body, you didn't mean to lose Erin. You really didn't.

In reality you hadn't lost Erin, you just misunderstood the situation, but you didn't know that yet.

Your body involuntarily slipped down the white walls of your shared-not shared?- house.

The thoughts of her moving out, breaking up with you and dating someone else intoxicated your mind. You hated it.

Of course your mind went to those places. Whose mind wouldn't when their significant other yells out that they 'can't do this anymore' after an argument and walks out?

After about 45 minutes of sobbing, Erin finally went back to the house. With flowers in one and and her phone in the other, Erin went into the house only to be greeted by eerie silence.

Only did she hear the sounds of your muffled sobs coming from the bedroom did that silence break.

She quickly sprinted up to your room and when's he opened the door, she was greeted by you lying face down on the bed sobbing your heart out into the tear stained pillow.

She immediately raced to your side, making you flinch at the sudden contact and jolt up from the place where you were lying down.

You sniffles quieted down when you saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with a concerned look on her perfect face.

The sight of her made you calm down slightly.

"Why are you crying? I'm so sorry for making you cry baby, I swear I didn't mean to my love. I'm so so so sorry. " her words were rushed out as she pulled you into a hug that you melted into, but were clearly filled with concern for you. Her eyes proved that.

"I thought you broke up with me. " she barely get out because of your strained voice.

"I would never. I don't think k I'd ever survive if not for you. I'm so sorry I'm made you think that way but I assure you that I will never leave you. Not now nor anytime in the future. " she said as she began to tear up too. She couldn't handle seeing you cry, whenever you cried she did too.

It was the same way that some people had contagious smiles that you had a contagious cry.

"Then why did you say that you couldn't do this anymore and walk out? "

"I meant that I couldn't stay in the house anymore, I'm sorry baby I should've worded better, and as for the walking g put part, I. Needed a break so I walked around the area a little and got you flowers, ready to apologize. " she explained to you and to say that the new revelation was reliving to you would be an understatement.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm should've been more considerate , I should've never stood you up all those times and I'm sorry for every single thing that I did to make you upset. From now on, I swear that I will keep all of my promises and with that, I promise you to never ever purposely let a tear she'd form those pretty eyes of yours. "She then wiped the tears off of your eyes and proceeded to place kisses all over your face, making a slight smile breakout on your face.

And she did. Erin kept her promise in the future.

[babydollmarauders]

COMFORT — LUKE HUGHES

summary: in which Luke’s girlfriend, y/n (dolly), finds out her comfort person and close friend, Ryan Graves, is going to Pittsburgh

luke’s gf au!

my bottom lip quivers, tears immediately welling in my eyes as the realization sets in.

“w-what?” my voice trembles, the phone shaking in my grip, the unshed tears making the facetime appear blurry.

“i’m sorry, y/n, i really am.” Ryan tells me solemnly, “but this is what’s right for me and my career right now. you understand that, right?”

“mhm.” i hum, blinking past the tears and nodding my head, “no— yeah, i understand. i get it.”

Ryan heaves out a sigh, his eyes soft as he begins speaking again.

“i really enjoyed spending time with you and i’m still so honored that you warmed up to me the way that you did. and this doesn’t mean our friendship is over! you’re still more than welcome to call me when you need someone to talk to, and we’ll see each other when the Penguins and Devils play each other!”

i nod again at his words, trying my hardest to let them relieve my sadness and bring joy to me, but it all still hurts a bit too much for me to see the bright side just yet.

“i just wanted you to hear it directly from me first, Dolly.” he explains, “i don’t want you finding out when the rest of the public finds out. you deserved to be be told beforehand.”

“i’m gonna miss you.” my words are choked, spoken between sniffles, and i quickly rub at my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie.

“i’m gonna miss you too.” he frowns, “and you better tell Bahl that he needs to step up and become your club bodyguard now! i’d say Dougie but…”

i let out a huff of laughter before i finish the sentence with him, “he looks too nice.”

Ryan grins at my slight smile.

“exactly.” he beams. “look, i gotta go. i gotta go in and sign the contract now. but, i’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“okay.” i nod, bidding him a goodbye before he hangs up.

left in the silence, my heart aches.

i didn’t really think of the possibility of Ryan leaving the Devils.

i guess in my head, i always thought of him as a Devil. i never thought about the chance of him becoming anything else.

i crawl up on Luke and i’s bed, burrowing myself in a mountain of blankets and pillows; curling up on my side and just staring ahead at the wall.

Ryan was, dare i say, the person on the team that i was closest to beside my boyfriend and his brother.

ever since we met, early in the season when i had visited Jack, and i had felt the comforting energy that he gave off, he looked out for me. he stuck by my side when the team went out to bars and clubs; warding off any highly unwanted male attention, glowering at any sketchy guys that dared to come near me.

it was never unusual to find him in Luke, Jack, and i’s living room, allowing me to paint his fingernails black as i talked his ear off about how my classes were dragging me down or telling him about the new true crime case i had heard of on my podcasts.

he was my platonic person. and now he’s gonna be gone. signing with the Pittsburgh Penguins at this very moment.

i was lost within my own head. the room eerily quiet, making it hard to miss the creak of the bedroom door.

i turn over in the bed, finding my boyfriend in the doorway, staring back at me with pity filled eyes.

“Ryan texted me.” it was in that moment that my reserve vanished. my walls broke down and my tears came pouring out, unable to be kept in any longer.

“Dolly, i’m sorry.” Luke crawls into the bed, pulling me into his chest. his hand holds the back of my head, the other rubbing circles on my back. “let it out, baby. i’m here for you. i’m right here.”

my tears soak into his black t-shirt, making it damp, but he doesn’t seem to care, only pulling me tighter to him.

i lose track of how long we lay there, Luke allowing me to cry into his chest until i’ve run out of tears.

“do you wanna talk about it, baby?” i shake my head against him, not quite ready to discuss my friend leaving. “okay. that’s okay, you don’t have to talk until your ready.”

i let out a whine, burying my head further up and into his neck.

the door creaks open once more, and i peek an eye open, retreating from my boyfriend just slightly to see his middle brothers head pop into the room. at the sight before him, Jack winces, his gaze softening.

“i just saw the news. i wanted to check on Dolly.” he whispers, his words aimed at his younger brother, as i’ve already moved back into my position in the crook of Luke’s neck.

“she’s not taking it very well.” Luke whisper’s back, “which is completely valid and i wouldn’t expect this to be any easier.”

those words are spoken into my hair, directed at me; reassuring me that my emotions are not dramatic, but rather understood and logical.

the door shuts, footsteps getting closer before i feel my side of the bed dip, a hand coming up to rub back while Luke’s hand stops to hold my hip.

“i’m really sorry, Dolly.” Jack’s voice comes from behind me. “you still have me, and Luke, and Dawson, John, Nico, Dougie, Bratter, i can keep going.

“we’re here and we’re not going anywhere. Ryan had to take a different path, and i’m really sorry about that, but i know he’s still there for you to call if you need him, right?”

i nod my head, my nose brushing against Luke’s neck.

“exactly. he’s not gone completely. just, not in Jersey anymore. and that’s what’s best for him and his career.”

i let Jack’s words sink in. pulling away from my boyfriend, i press a kiss to his cheek, him giving me a soft smile in return, before i turn and hug Jack; thanking him for his comfort.

i have my other best friends. it’s gonna be okay.

[untitled-writer-013]

(idk if this is allowed or not) but how would poly hannigram react to reader having a miscarriage?

Poly!Hannigram x Fem!Miscarriaged!Reader

warning(s): mentions of miscarriage, mourning characters, angst, people invalidating grief, guilt, possibly very triggering.

Hannibal and Will had been with (Y/n) for a few years now, and the two men had been considering having a child with their darling. When asked, (Y/n) had agreed, ecstatic about raising a child with her husbands. She had taken great care of herself when she found out she was pregnant, making sure she wasn’t stressed, relaxing whenever she could, and making sure to eat and drink everything needed to have a healthy baby. Hannibal and Will would become more protective over their darling when she’s pregnant, making sure that she is alright and checking in on her more than they usually would. The three of them were all so excited to meet their little one, until Hannibal had received that dreadful phone call.

(Y/n), now five months along, had gone to her usual prenatal appointment, happily chatting with the nurse. Hannibal and Will had to work, and reluctantly let their wife go alone. They hated having to miss out on those small yet important moments, but (Y/n) had assured them that everything would be okay.

Until suddenly, it wasn’t.

Hannibal was sitting in his office, getting ready for his next appointment when his phone rang, making him pause momentarily before moving to answer it. Noticing it was his wife, he picked up and immediately asked if everything was okay, the silence he was met with making a lump form in his throat. He was about to say something before he heard a sob, his wife crying as she told him she had lost the baby. He froze where he was, his mouth slightly agape as he processed what she had said. He was praying that this was some sick joke, that it wasn’t real. But as his wife continued to sob and apologize, he realized that it was all too real. He shook his head, trying to hold back his tears as he reassured his wife that she wasn’t to blame, that he loved her and wasn’t upset with her at all.

After ending the call, Hannibal sent a text to Will, worried his voice would betray him as he asked him to stop by his office, only telling him that it was incredibly important. Once Will had finally arrived, he spotted Hannibal sitting in one of the chairs, wearing a pained expression.

“Hannibal, what’s going on?” Will asked, carefully sitting down across from him as he waited, wanting to know what was happening and why he looked so defeated.

“I don’t know how else to say this..(Y/n) miscarried.” Hannibal stated, staring ahead, seemingly still processing the horrible reality while Will’s jaw dropped, a look of horror on his face as he realized what had happened. He stood and went by Hannibal’s side, bringing him into a tight hug while sobbing, the grief almost hitting him immediately. 

After a few minutes, Will stood, letting Hannibal know he was leaving to go check up on (Y/n) before he left the office, Hannibal now alone as he was slumped in his chair, wondering what had gone wrong, if there was anything he could have done, until ultimately realizing that what had happened couldn’t have been prevented. 

Hannibal would return home, finding Will and (Y/n) in bed, their darling curled into Will as she sobbed, letting out sniffles and hiccups all the while apologizing. Will kept reassuring her that she wasn’t to blame, sounding like a broken record as he repeated this. Hannibal changed out of his work clothes, climbing into bed with them both before holding his wife close, pressing a kiss to her head as he reassured her that she would be okay.

All three of them would be heavily affected by the miscarriage. Hannibal would distance himself more, Will would drink, and (Y/n) would try and ignore what had happened. She would do her best to act as if everything was fine, even when it wasn’t. They all would dive deep into their work, none of them daring to confront the empty nursery that remained untouched. 

(Y/n) had been working one day, feeling worse than usual as she stared at an ad in the magazine, showing a happy family enjoying dinner. One of her coworkers noticed, walking over to her while placing a hand on her shoulder. (Y/n) flinched, setting the magazine down slightly.

“Did you need something?” (Y/n) asked, slightly confused when her coworker shook her head.

“No, but I’ve noticed you’ve been getting worse. Now, I’m just saying, you could always try agai-” Her coworker was quickly cut off by (Y/n).

“That’s enough. You do not get to decide when I stop grieving. Don’t ever talk to me again.” (Y/n) stated firmly, slapping her hand away before she got up, taking her things with her, the magazine now on the floor.

(Y/n) began driving home, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. She was tired of being sad, angry, the guilt she felt eating away at her every day. She hated the tension she had with her husbands, and she was going to fix it. Somehow, she was going to. She had to.

(Y/n) slammed her car door shut, doing her best not to storm into the house as she opened the door, making her way to the nursery. She opened the door, pausing in her movements as her breath became shaky. All the anger and resentment had been washed away at the sight of the nursery. The curtains were open, letting the sunlight in, landing on the crib that Will and Hannibal had set up. (Y/n) slowly went into the nursery, taking a seat in the rocking chair. 

She looked around, the changing table, stuffed animals, and the toys coming into view. Her eyes began to water, but she took a deep breath. (Y/n) knew she needed to be strong, focusing on her breathing. She had been so focused that she didn’t notice Will peering into the room, having noticed the open door.

“Darling?” Will asked, his voice soft and tone unsure as he waited at the doorway, hesitant to step into the supposed forbidden room.

(Y/n) turned to face her husband, spotting her other husband appearing behind Will. 

“I..I’m just tired of acting like this room has control over us. I don’t want to be afraid of a room anymore, I..I just want to get my life back.” (Y/n) stated, her voice cracking slightly as desperation filled her voice.

Hannibal and Will looked at her, an expression mixed with guilt and sympathy on their faces. They both joined her in the room, Will sitting next to the chair (Y/n) was on while Hannibal stood in the room, letting himself take everything in. It had been forever since all of them had been in the room, especially all together. As the emotional tension eased in the room, Will took (Y/n)’s hand into his own, pressing a kiss onto it as he reassured her that they would get through this.

The three of them soon left the nursery, no longer prohibited from entering it, but instead they began planning to adopt a child. They all knew that they would never ‘replace’ the baby they lost, but they would at least have a child to raise. They all vowed to never distance themselves from each other ever again, and they all would be there for each other, no matter what.

~fin~

author’s note: while the pain and grief might make them distance themselves, they still love and adore their darling. they just need time to process and work through the grief on their own, and eventually together with their darling.

[voicesknewmyghosts]

Safe Place

Jenna is always the person others go to for comfort, she’s the anchor that grounds people. So just who is the person that she goes to for her own comfort?

It’s late in the evening when you get the call. You had just settled on the couch with a cup of tea when your phone rings and a picture of your girlfriend cuddled up in a blanket pops up on the screen. You can’t help the smile that beams onto your face; Jenna is in Romania right now shooting Wednesday, and to say you miss the little ray of sunshine is an understatement. 

You’ve been together over a year now, and every day spent with her has truly been the best of your life. She’s so gentle, caring and kind, and she makes you feel like you could take on the world when you look at her, her big brown eyes always gazing up at you with the most love anyone could ever show someone. 

But when you pick up the phone to answer her, you know immediately something is wrong. Her voice is shaky, quiet, and you can tell she’s holding back tears when she greets you. 

“Babygirl what’s wrong?” You’re on high alert now, cup of tea forgotten as you sit on the edge of the couch, ready to fight anyone and anything that’s upset your girl. 

“I just-“ her voice breaks, and along with it your heart “it’s too much y/n, it just feels all too much right now.” 

She erupts into sobs, and you do all you can to calm her down all while feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces at every gut wrenching cry. You tell her over and over again all the sweet things you can think of, telling her she’ll be okay and that you’re there for her, that she’ll get through this. 

It feels like infinity has passed before the sobs turn into sniffles and the broken girl at the other end of the line quietens down. 

“Oh Jenna.” Is all you can say, unable to think of anything that is capable of showing how much you want to just come and wrap her up in your arms and protect her from the world. 

You both sit in silence for a while, content with the other's company. You can hear Jenna shuffle under her blankets; no doubt wrapping herself up like a burrito like she does at home, which makes the smile return to your face as you imagine her head poking out of the huge mountain of blankets that she no doubt had on top of her. 

A thought pops into your head; one forged by the longing to have your girl in your arms. Its a crazy one; part of you doesn’t even want to bring it up to Jenna in fear of getting her hopes up, but the more you think about her alone in a room in Romania sobbing her heart out and feeling like the world is crushing her spirit the more you think you can make it work. 

“Jenna, how would you feel if I booked a flight to come visit?” 

You hardly even finish your sentence before the excited “yes!” screams out of your phone's speakers and less than an hour later you have your flight booked for the next day and your girl falls asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in a while. 

Jenna can’t stop the excitement she feels knowing you’re going to be here the next day. Sleep becomes a distant memory as she messages the cast group chat telling them they’re going to finally meet the woman she can’t shut up about. Joy is the first to respond, with a bunch of heart emoji’s and how excited she is to meet you. Emma, Hunter and Georgie soon follow, all equally ecstatic. Jenna just can’t wait to pick you up from the airport; you have a way of making her feel so safe and grounded that no one else has ever come close to achieving. She loves being the rock for her friends - she truly does, knowing they come to her for a pep talk or a hug when they’re feeling anxious about an interview or an upcoming scene - it makes her feel good in herself knowing she’s the person that other people find comfort in. But, she gets anxious too, and the only person she ever feels like she can truly be vulnerable and protected with is finally going to be in her arms in less than 12 hours. 

You see her before she sees you. She’s wrapped in a big coat, dyed black hair up in a messy bun, eyes scanning the room for any sightings of you. You can see a security guard with her, keeping his distance respectfully. She takes your breath away, so much so you stop dead in the middle of the airport, unable to tear your eyes away from the woman who stole your heart. 

The second she has eyes on you she’s running, jumping into your arms and wrapping her limbs around you tight, like your very own koala bear. You drop your bags and wrap your own arms around her, holding her tight to you and breathing in the scent that you missed so much. The world around you both seems to stop, the only thing existing is each other. Having her in your arms once more is the best feeling in the whole universe and you never want to let her go. 

Sadly, a subtle cough from Jenna’s security lets her know it's time to go, and she begrudgingly unwraps herself from around you. Then she looks up at you with those beautiful brown eyes and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs as she tugs on your arm, leading you out of the airport and towards where she calls home for the next few months. 

She clings to you in the car, her head resting on your shoulder as you hold her hands in yours, rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin of her palm. You can’t help but stare at her the whole way, unable to tear your eyes away from the person who makes you happiest in this world. You can see the tiredness behind her eyes though; you can see how exhausted she is, how much pressure she has had put on her shoulders with this new project of hers. 

Of course, you’ll always support Jenna in everything she does, that will never be in doubt. But when you had that call from her and when you can see just how exhausted mentally and physically she is; you just wish you could take it all away and shelter her from all of the pressure.

You arrive at the cast's hotel not long after Jenna closes her eyes and her head drifts from your shoulder down to your lap. You hate to wake her, knowing the ridiculously early starts and long days she has. You make a decision while staring down at the sleeping beauty and quietly ask the security guard who drove you whether there was someone who could help with your bags. Once he confirms yes, you gently slide out from Jenna’s death grip and open her door, cradling her into your arms as she grumbles something about wanting to sleep more. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you at how cute Jenna looks cradled in your arms, her arms flailing around until they find their target: a death grip around your neck. You give her a quick kiss on the forehead and shush her as she starts to grumble again and follow the security guard to Jenna’s apartment. 

Placing Jenna gently down on her bed, you get her changed into some comfy pyjamas before quickly doing the same for yourself. You leave your bags in the living room, deciding that getting into bed with your girl is the only priority right now; unpacking can be left until she’s working the following morning. 

Your heart soars as she reaches for you the second the bed dips signalling your arrival. Her arms wrap around your shoulders and her legs entwine with yours; her hot breath sending tingles down your spine as it tickles the side of your neck. You give her a quick kiss before succumbing to sleep yourself, finally feeling like a piece of you has been returned. 

The alarm rips through the peaceful silence that had fallen over the room. You’re sure you only fell asleep two minutes ago, but judging by Jenna frantically flailing around for her phone to shut off the noise and groaning to herself, you can imagine this is the early start she’s been telling you about.

How she does this everyday is completely beyond you. 

You reach out a gentle hand to rub the tired back in front of you, and you smile to yourself as Jenna seems to relax a little under your touch, almost as if she had to remind herself that this is real, that she’s not alone anymore. 

“Good morning my love.” Her voice is groggy and deep as she leans over to place a kiss on your lips. Her small hands frame your face, her eyes staring into yours. 

This is all you wanted out of life; to find someone who you would travel to the ends of the earth for, and who would do the same for you. Looking into Jenna’s exhausted eyes as you stroke her hair, you know you would do anything to keep this girl from any and all harm. 

“Come on darling,” you begin, kissing her chin, “let's get you some breakfast.” 

Jenna tries to fight you, telling you you should get back in bed and sleep, but she’s fighting a losing battle as you’re already up and out of bed, thoughts of what you can make for your girl flooding through your mind. 

You let Jenna get herself ready in the bathroom as you cook a nice big breakfast out of the things she has in her fridge. You know she hasn’t eaten well since she got here, so you make a promise to yourself that once she’s at work you’ll head into town and get some groceries so you can get as much food in her as possible. 

Just as you finish plating up your breakfasts, the door to the bathroom opens and out comes the picture of beauty; the smile she has on her face is enough to knock you to the floor, but you manage to stay upright. Even with no makeup on and looking as exhausted as she does, she is the most beautiful woman in the world in your eyes, no doubt about it. She strides over to you and stands on her tiptoes with her hands gripping either side of your face and kisses you with a fervent intensity that leaves you breathless and gasping for more. Breakfast is almost forgotten as you reach for her hips, ready to pick her up and toss her into the bedroom until a small hand on your chest stops you dead in your tracks, and when you look at the woman capable of destroying you and piecing you back to together bit by bit, the smirk she has on her face tells you all you need to know. 

Be good, and I’ll reward you later. 

It’s unspoken; it normally is - Jenna has a way of looking at you and conveying anything she needs you to know without saying a single word. You know if you play your cards right and behave today that you might just end up getting the one thing you both have been endlessly craving for the last few months apart. With a wink and a sway of her hips, Jenna takes a seat at the table while you place her food in front of her and take a seat next to her. You interlace your fingers together while you eat in comfortable silence, content with the company of your favourite person. 

Before you know it, there’s a knock on the door and Jenna is sighing while getting up, collecting her things for the day while you begin cleaning up. 

“I’ll see you later.” She mumbles into your chest as you pull her in for a hug. 

“You will indeed.” You kiss her forehead and open the door for her, waving to her as she does the same. And then she’s gone; off to work until she’s utterly exhausted and spent only to do it all over again the next day. You wish she didn’t have to work so hard; you wish you could somehow make this experience easier on her mental health, but you know that she loves this job, and sadly the toll of working in this industry is well known. 

But, what you can do is be somewhere Jenna can come to relax, to be vulnerable and to let all of the pressure slide off her shoulders. And so, with a little smile to yourself, you get ready to head into town to get groceries. 

It may not be much, but if you can take care of Jenna in all the small ways she hasn’t had the energy to do herself, then you can go to sleep happy knowing that at least with you, Jenna is taken care of. 

And that at least with you, Jenna has her safe place.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.27

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Nat’s been more than exhausted these past few weeks as she drafts up argument after argument that she can use against the government to justify why she and her fellow Avengers shouldn't be put on a leash. She knows it’s a long shot and she doesn’t have enough witness accounts or evidence yet but she’s been hearing about the crime rate spike through the rumor mill and she hopes that soon enough she’ll have enough to come back.

She can bring her family back and finally have you. If you’ll still have her after all of this is over. She knows you’d have every right to be mad but she hopes you’ll understand enough to at least let her take you on one date.

The rain pelts outside of her window as it has been for the last three days and she sighs as she lies back on her pull-out bed. If it were under different circumstances she might’ve been able to appreciate the break from the city and the pressure. Maybe she could even come back to these woods with Clint, or Wanda, or…You.

She’s working hard to make sure her family is safe, yes, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t working this hard to also see you again. To finally know what it feels like to hold you, to run her fingers through your hair, and hear you laugh again. The thought of you has been the only thing that’s brought her comfort these past few weeks.

Her computer dings with an email and she shoots up immediately, grabbing the shiny object from the side table next to her and pulling it onto her lap. She wasn’t expecting any emails while she was out here and her mind jumped to the worst-case scenario: they’d found her location.

The email is from an unknown sender which only makes her more uneasy and she’s more frustrated than anything that she’ll have to find a new place to hide when she recognizes the encrypted link hidden in the email's coding.

It was a website Clint had created just for the two of them to communicate in case there was ever a situation similar to this. She’s afraid to admit just how comforting it was to hear from someone close to her after weeks of no contact. She quickly opens the website and reads the messages.

Clint-

Hey Natty, hope you’re having fun wherever you’ve parked that trailer of yours, Tony’s been a real pain in the butt but we’re trying to negotiate some better terms with some government officials. I know you’re probably working on a solution of your own but I’ve got to at least pretend like I contribute to this group-

She snorts at the self-jab, knowing her fellow Avenger couldn’t care less about the insults people say about him being the least skilled Avenger. She always admired that about him.

Clint-

Anyway, your phone’s been blowing up. I think Tony is getting suspicious so I took it and hid it in my room. I think you’re gonna be in deep shit with your girlfriend when you get back haha. 

I attached the voicemails you’ve been getting, I didn’t listen to them but I saw who they were from. Thought they might be important.  

Nat’s heart pounded as she stared at the attached files, there were at least 30 voicemails from you varying in different lengths and part of her was scared to open them. There was no doubt a few of them were just you yelling at her but even then she’d missed the sound of your voice so much that she’d take your irritation over anything else.

She hesitates over the first voicemail with her cursor but clicks it before she can sike herself out. There’s a little bit of silence and she wonders if you’re going to talk before she hears a small sniffle and her heart breaks. She swore to herself she’d never make you cry and now she’d failed, the sound of your quiet crying echoing throughout her trailer only amplifying her defeat.

It's another thirty seconds before your voice finally breaks through. It’s rough and raw and she can tell you’d probably been crying for a while.

“Nat? Where did you go? Why’d you leave? Listen- we don’t have to meet if you don’t want to. We can keep texting forever just don’t ghost me like this. Please.” It’s short and by how broken your last word sounded she can tell you were probably thrown into another fit of sobs after you ended the message. 

Nat doesn’t know what to do with herself, her body feels frozen and her heart won’t stop sinking further into her stomach. She’s never heard you sound so unsure of yourself before and it tears her apart that she’s the one who made you that way. It takes her a few minutes to muster up the courage to click on another one.

“What kind of person just says ‘I’m sorry?’ I deserve a better explanation than that! You couldn’t have at least lied to me about going to save baby animals in Africa where there’s no cell service? At least then when you stopped responding I could’ve felt better!” She’s not surprised that you’re mad at her, you deserve to be, but it doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at her chest when she hears how irked you are.

The next few are similar in the fact that they’re either angry or spoken through tears but they slowly begin transitioning into something else. Eventually, you stop talking about her leaving and start talking about yourself. What you did that day, what you’re making for dinner, the cat you’ve been visiting at the cat cafe. There’s still a hint of sadness in your tone but she can tell the calls are a form of therapy for you. A way for Nat to be there when she’s not really there.

She wants to be there. She wants to be the one you’re talking about your day with, wants to cook you dinner while you sit on the counter and visit the cat cafe with you. It hurts that she can’t do that and as she’s listening she feels her eyes burn with tears. She refuses to let them fall. She’s not the one who gets to cry in this scenario and yet her eyes refuse to give up their unshed tears.

There’s one last voicemail from a day ago and she clicks on it expecting it to be like the others but much to her surprise you’re talking about her again.

“I think I’m mad because I can’t even bring myself to hate you for it. I know you’ve probably got some shit going on. I understand that, trust me. But- I don't know you could’ve… maybe it’s too much of me to ask you to fill me in on the situation- or let me know when you’d be back… Is this goodbye?” 

 Your static voice rings out into the silence and Nat hates how you sound. Reserved- almost accepting. Like you’ve convinced yourself she’s never going to respond again and she hates it. She hates that she made you so insecure that you think she isn't spending every hour thinking of you and how to get back to you. 

The sound of your voice fills her with even more determination as she begins redrafting her court argument. She was going to come back to you, you just had to wait for her a little longer.

Pt.28

A/n: Aww Nat :( ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime

[chaosology]

mayflower i

warnings: ivf, pregnancy mentions, slight angst

pairing: sam kerr x fem!reader

my masterlist | series masterlist

“Ouch! Do you mind?”

“You’re so dramatic; it’s just a pinch, dummy.”

“Why are we even doing this?”

You giggled, putting the needle in your newly dedicated sharps bin as Sam re-tied the strings of her grey track pants. 

“I’m starting to become uncomfortable about how much you enjoy this,” she teased, staring you down from the counter she was currently perched on. You passed her the icepack as she continued, “in fact, I’d go as far as to say you look forward to it.”

“Oh do you, now? I’m hurt, Sammy. Truly hurt. I’m thinking about the children, and if you just can't see that - Well, I just don’t know if this relationship will work out..”

“Oh, piss off!” She laughed, shoving your shoulder lightly as she leaned in for a kiss, her hand coming to lift your chin. 

“But do you kiss all your patients after you stab them, babe?”

“Only the cute ones” You fired back. She laughed softly, repeatedly poking and then wincing at the injection site. Her thigh was littered with small purple splotches, something she was strangely fascinated by.

You finished up what you were doing in the bathroom, following her out into your shared kitchen. Sam pottered around beside you, chopping vegetables before haphazardly throwing them into the bowl. It was a comfortable silence that you revelled in, but one you both secretly wished to be soon filled by a small baby's soft, nonsensical babbling.

“Did they say we could confirm the ninth for our retrieval date? I’ve got training the next Friday so I’ve got to be back at it by then and I swear that woman over the phone wasn’t even listening.” She asked from across the kitchen, passing you a pan. 

“Yup. And it’s Michaels for the procedure, so don’t worry about one of those Jane the Virgin things happening. She’s great.”

Sam’s response came almost immediately, followed quickly by a small laugh. 

“Why can’t you do it? I don’t need a stranger poking around down there.” 

“I’m not even on gynae rotations, dumbass. No way they’re letting me near something that precious… they barely even trust me with forceps.”

Sam only grunted stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest as she sighed deeply. She was stressed about the procedure, you could tell. It was your first cycle of IVF, and you were still young but the success rates weren’t in your favour. The ultrasound had confirmed everything was going as well as it could, but that couldn’t settle her nerves. And how could you blame her? With the retrieval procedure only days away, the whole process was beginning to seem more real. 

Besides, the extra dosage of hormones wasn’t helping. You noticed at around day three of the injections when you walked into Sam hunched over on the couch crying at the tv, because “all the dogs just look so sad”. You cursed out the RSPCA, joining her on the couch and pulling her into you. She sniffled into your neck, slightly embarrassed by her outburst. 

“Are they moving? I swear they are, I can feel it!”

You rolled your eyes, watching as she squinted towards the bottom of the bed.

“Sam, your toes definitely aren’t moving. I’m looking right at them.”

She huffed, fiddling with the hem of the light blanket covering her. The walls of the room were a soft yellow, with two small chairs and an instrument trolley in the corner. 

A knock at the door caught your attention, watching as your fellow resident (and closest friend) Carmen walked in. Her blue scrubs were swapped out for a soft, baby pink set - a sign she was working on the OB/GYN floor today.

“Piss off, you are not doing my procedure,” Sam yelled jokingly, reaching for a small balled-up tissue to throw in her direction. One of your favourite things about Sam was her ability to fit seamlessly into your friend group. When you first started dating, you were nervous to introduce her to your friends - after all, they were such opposites (or so you thought). But in true Sam fashion, she found her place within minutes, joining in on jokes and insisting on hanging out more often. You loved it. 

Carmen deflected the shot with ease, coming to hug you from the side. 

“No way, mate. You wish. Just here to yell at Y/N for getting today off when we’re all stuck doing paperwork.” You smirked proudly, jabbing her in the ribs as she released a small oomf. 

“You’ll be right though, Sammy K. Michael’s is a beast, this is her bread and butter. Like, I dunno, your equivalent of lightly tapping a ball.”

“Hey,” You intervened, “they miss the ball half the time, you know!”

“Y/N!”

You laughed at her shocked face, affectionately ruffling the top of her head until she swatted your hand away playfully. Carmen rolled her eyes at the two of you, pulling out her phone to capture a sweet photo.

“Look, I’ve gotta run. But let me know when Sammy has to put the hairnet on, I’m going to make it my contact photo!”

Sam scoffed as Carmen left the room, returning to quietly picking at her nails. You watched intently, coming to rest your hand on hers.

“How are you feeling?”

“I dunno, I’m not super nervous. But I am a little bit…regular nervous,” she replied, looking up at you. “What if something goes wrong and it doesn’t work? What if the injections haven’t worked?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, baby. The scans looked good, they said it looked better than they thought.” You stroked her arm, kissing her forehead before you continued. “We’ll be ok, I know we will.”

She sighed into your neck, allowing herself just to breathe. For a moment, it felt like just the two of you in the whole of the hospital as you lay together, hand in hand.

The room was lit a soft, pale blue. The whirr of the ceiling fan filled the silence, the only other sound being the soft breathing beside you. Sam’s body was spread to your left, her legs twisted around the duvet, reminiscent of a pretzel. She always slept so strangely (and apparently the general aneathesia just exaggerated it).

You stared longingly at the space beside your bed, which had been cleared of its normal pile of junk. Up until recently, it was Sam’s throw-it-here-and-worry-later spot, often home to a few different pairs of shoes and a jersey that probably needed a wash (or two). Now. it was cleared in the hope it would soon be filled with a tiny little bassinet, and, of course, your tiny little baby. To others, the clearing of that part of your room probably didn’t mean anything at all, but it was so much more than that.

“Y’know,” Sam said, panting as she rolled off of you,  “you’re so lucky we’re gay.”

“W- Huh?”

She giggled breathlessly, turning onto her side to look into your eyes. 

“Because if we were straight, you’d so be pregnant right now… it’s a thing! It’s our wedding night, and everyyyone knows the first baby is always conceived right then.”

Your face fell into your palm, hiding your smile. 

 “Oh my god, Sam.” You playfully flicked her forehead, watching as she only smiled in response. 

“That implies no sex until marriage, and last time I checked,” you brought your hand to your duvet, lifting the covers to show your uncovered, tangled-up bodies underneath, “we did NOT play by those rules.”

“Technicalities” she waved dismissively, “You’d be knocked up and everyone would be like, ‘yeahh, they did it on their wedding night’.”

“You’re such an idiot…. And no thanks to you, everyone already knows we’ve done it anyway.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Alanna overheard… that hotel had thin walls, I swear.”

You both laughed at the memory, recalling Alanna’s shocked expression and furious apologies as she walked in on the two of you years earlier. She was just drunk and stumbled into the wrong room by accident, but she sobered up pretty quickly afterwards. The next morning at breakfast she affectionately congratulated Sam and you at breakfast, giving Sam a firm pat on the back as she did so. 

You both lay quietly, your head nestled into Sam’s neck as she played with your hair, twirling the same little strands back and forth. 

“Do you ever think about it?”

“Kids?” 

Her hands stopped briefly, before continuing with their rhythmic motions in your hair. She hadn’t predicted that.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I think about it too.”

“A lot?”

“Yeah.”

She waited a few moments, before lifting her head and turning to you once again. Her eyes were serious this time, almost a little glassy. Almost.

“I want kids. With you, Y/N.”

“I want kids with you too, Sam. I always have.”

She smiled back at you, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the faint red blush that painted her cheeks; she must’ve been sitting on this for a while. 

“I dunno…It’s so scary, though. And it’s such a long process, I feel like I’ll always be too nervous to say anything. What if it’s the wrong time?”

“Yeah,” her hand coming to delicately line your lips, “I know. Maybe we can just take it slow, build ourselves up to the idea?”

You grinned back, holding back a small giggle. “You’ll have to make space in our room, you know - are you ready to part with your messy pile?”

“I didn’t even think of that,” she exclaimed, teasingly feigning shock. “We may have to reconsider this whole baby thing.”

Silence fell over the room once again as she wrapped her arm around you, the both of you off in your own little worlds. The post-sex fatigue was creeping up, pulling you down into a peaceful slumber.

You yawned, opening your eyes to look at her for the first time in what felt like ages

“How will we know when we’re ready?” 

“Well, you said we have to make room for the bassinet, right.”

“Mmm?”

“I think when I move my shoes… and you don’t move them back. Then we’ll know.”

You smiled at the memory of your wedding night, looking to your now wife by your side and the gold ring that sat perfectly on her finger, then to the small clock on your bedside table - 12:51 am on the 23rd - almost two months from the day you both decided.

You had spent the morning ambling around the apartment in the early morning light, taking sips from your coffee each time you walked past the mug on the bench. Sam was already at training, having left your sleeping form with a small peck on the cheek and water boiled in the kettle. 

Laundry on your hip, you picked up her bright pink soccer boots from their home on the bedroom floor and put them back in the cupboard, along with a few crumpled hoodies and spare jerseys. You often wondered if she had forgotten what you had spoken about the night of your wedding… After all, she DID have a lot to drink. 

The day lagged on until Sam came home, rushing through the door with the energy of a hyped-up golden retriever.

“My god, swear Guro was on fire today. She must’ve had crack for breakfast because I couldn’t even keep up, my calves fucking kill!”

You greeted her with a kiss and another mug of coffee that she delightedly accepted, walking into the bedroom to shower and change. The ache of last night’s…activities were still fresh on your mind, and the sound of the now running water drew you to the ensuite.

Instinctively, you went to kick the clothes Sam undoubtedly left on the floor out of the way

“Fuck!”

Your foot hit the side of the bed, a warm ache spreading up your leg. You looked down.

Nothing.

Upon opening the cupboard, you found Sam’s shoes tucked neatly on the rack with the rest of them, her uniform in the hamper. The floor was completely clear, not even a sock in sight. Maybe it was a mistake, did she really mean it? Maybe she was just worked up from training and forgot about your unspoken rule. Right? 

You were in a state of almost shock, walking slowly into the bathroom. Your attempt to close the door was futile as you mindlessly stepped forward, kicking off your slippers to stand opposite Sam, separated only by the glass door.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Sam’s face was fresh from the shower, her eyebrows creased slightly in the middle. You could see from her face that she was deep in thought, most likely overthinking her decision to move the mess on the floor.

“You didn’t move it back.”

“I didn’t.”

You opened the door to the shower, now face to face. The hot water let occasional spits hit your skin, your clothes getting more and more wet by the second. Sam’s soaked hand reached out to find yours, her fingers nervously interlocking around them as her eyes met with you 

“Are we having a baby?”

Yeah,” she cried, pulling your face to hers under the water, “we’re having a baby.”

“Oooh, I’ll take that.”

In the blink of an eye, Carmen had snuck behind you to steal your freshly poured coffee straight from your hands. Sam had designated her the official “Y/N watchdog” for the time being, seeing as Sam couldn’t keep an eye on you around the hospital. 

“Hey! It’s decaf, plus I’m not even pregnant yet anyway.”

She took a sip, immediately wincing at the bitterness

“Fuck no it’s not decaf,” her face soured, “is this a double shot? Christ.”

You laughed, reaching back for another sip that she barely resisted. You paced around the wards, chatting on and off about the consultants and the latest nurses station gossip. You were likely to be the next topic of conversation once they found out about your plans for a baby. 

It was hard enough being a female resident. The medical profession was still far behind the rest of the world when it came to gender bias at work, and you were no exception. There were whispers of the male paramedics that frequented the ER doors having a “rating” for the female staff; they called you over for gruesome work in your first weeks just to see you squirm. Where the boys could slack, you pushed to work overtime and impress the old consultant who saw you only as hospital decorum.

Getting pregnant during residency wasn’t as dangerous as it once was, but you were still fearful of the strain it would put on your career. Would they look at you differently? Would they exclude you because of your “condition”?

It was one thing you and Sam were able to connect over. Sexism in your respective industries was so prevalent, both of you were often overlooked for your male counterparts despite performing equally as well (usually better). Despite these shared experiences, it was still the cause of one of your most heated arguments with Sam.

Sam’s hands ran down her face, dragging the skin in exaggeration as she sighed with frustration. She was opposite you, standing across the shared bed as she attempted to defend herself. It had started as you both made the bed that morning, pulling up the duvet and chatting about whatever was on your mind. However, Sam’s offhand comment of “when you’re pregnant”  had thrown a curveball on the mood.

“Oh my god, I don’t even know why you’re being like this. You know I can’t afford to be pregnant right now, Y/N.”

“Oh, and I can?”

You were fuming, arms folded across your chest as you stared her down, challenging her to continue. If she wanted to go there, you’d happily comply. She wasn’t wrong when she said that, after all, her career was physically demanding and undoubtedly dangerous for a pregnant woman further along. But why did she have to assume that it would be you? She didn’t even ask. Your job was just as challenging in other aspects, why didn’t she understand that?

“No- You know what I mean.”

You did know, but there was no way you were backing down now. 

“I get bashed all day, Y/N. And if I stop to have a baby now, then take leave and recover? That’s ages gone, they might not put me in next time.”

Sam worried constantly about her career; if she was taken seriously, if she could keep playing for as long as she wanted. 

“I get it, Sam. I do. But you didn’t even stop to ask me. A baby could fuck with my career too, you know. Did you even think of that? I’ll be the hospital liability.”

Sam’s eyes briefly flicked to concern, watching as yours welled up and your face reddened with each passing moment. But as soon as it came, it was gone, and she was back to her previous exasperated expression. She grabbed her keys from the nightstand, slipped on a pair of sneakers and turned to walk out the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t even deal with this right now, I’m going for a walk.”

You stood in the doorway as the front door slammed shut, Sam exiting your vision. Your face fell into your hands, the tears falling freely as you cried silently. Were you really ready for this?

The memory of your argument was still fresh on your mind as you paced the halls, now separated from Carmen as you continued with rounds. Knocking on the door of your next patient, you shuffled your thoughts to the back of your mind.

“Aye, a bit shorter than the last one. Tall and mean, she was.”

Mrs Zielinski was newly admitted to your ward on account of her stomach pains. She was short and slight, with a thick accent - Eastern Europe, you guessed. Her notes had a little warning at the bottom, stating she was confrontational and suspicious of most treatment she was offered. You had heard rumours of how she apparently threw her ice chips at Alex for offering some ibuprofen. 

You only smiled, flipping through her chart and making your way to her bedside. You fiddled with the heart monitor, watching her stare intently at you. You grimaced at her heart rate - she was still tachycardic, with her blood pressure having risen from last night.

“Mrs Zie- Martyna, may I call you that?” 

“No.”

You had hoped to be friendly with her in an effort to persuade her to accept treatment, but it seemed no matter how many smiles you offered, she only intensified her glare. 

“Well, Mrs Zielinski, have the nurses been in to talk with you about your heart?”

“Heart is fine. Nice and strong.”

She patted her chest as if it was an achievement, smiling proudly. You held back a small laugh, difficult patients, while annoying, were often the most entertaining.

“Actually, it’s going a lot faster than I’d like it to.” You explained, smiling down sympathetically. “I’d like to give you something to calm it down.”

“Pfft, none of that. You people always trying to poison me, heart is fine.”

You sighed. While aggravating, the well-being of patients was always at the forefront of your mind. You often struggled with watching people make decisions that harmed them further, coming home and crying to Sam about how tough it was to sit back and watch. She would stroke your hair and soothe you, rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled. She was your rock in this profession, answering her phone late at night even when she was exhausted just to listen to you rant.

“Alright. Can I cut you a deal?”

She looked up suspiciously.

“If you let me take you to get an ECG and see what’s going on, I’ll get that male nurse back in here for you to throw ice at.”

She hesitated, before scoffing. You piqued your head towards her for clarification, and she sighed a quiet fine under her breath. A gleeful smile painted your face as you grabbed your pager, letting her know you’d be back later to take her down to the cardiac floor. 

Two hours and an argument with the technician later, you were pushing Mrs Zielinski down the halls towards the elevator. It was around 9 in the evening (maybe even later; you could barely tell these days) and the halls were quiet, filled with the soft beeping of machines and the nurses chatting at the stations. 

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the small cable running across the floor. The bed jolted as you pushed over it, snapping you back to reality.

“God, girl, look where you going!”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re almost there.”

“Take me to basement to kill me, ‘ey? Sound like first husband.”

You laughed, continuing to wheel her carefully into the ECG suites where you would hand over to the technicians. Bidding her a polite farewell you left, heading towards the locker room.

Finally you could return home to Sam. With the embryo transfer tomorrow, you had taken a week's leave to recuperate afterwards. Sam would stay home with you for company, ensuring you didn’t find an excuse to just “pop over” to the hospital. 

Maybe this round would be successful, maybe not. You pushed it from your mind as you packed your things and walked through the hospital door, the setting sun shining straight in your face. You could barely see right in front of you, almost missing the figure right in front of you.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, darl"

Sam! There she was, standing by the door with her sunnies on and a bouquet of flowers in hand. She smiled at your shocked face, grabbing the stethoscope from around your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

"Ready to get pregnant?"

"Wha- Sam!"

[atinyslittleworld]

The Void Series

Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho

Summary: After a painful breakup, Y/N calls her best friend Yunho for comfort.

Word Count: 1,205

Genre: angst, comfort, romance

Warnings: emotional abuse, toxic relationship, emotional distress

The shattering sound of glass echoed through the small apartment as another object was flung across the room. Y/N stood frozen, tears streaming down her face as her boyfriend—no, ex-boyfriend—continued his tirade. His words were venomous, laced with anger and disdain, each one cutting deeper than the last.

“You’re nothing! You’ll always be nothing!” he shouted, his voice ringing in her ears. He grabbed a framed photo of the two of them, smiling and happy, and smashed it against the wall. The glass exploded in all directions, fragments falling to the floor like pieces of her heart.

Y/N felt paralyzed, unable to move or even breathe as he unleashed his fury. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving her alone in the wreckage—both physical and emotional.

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor, sobs wracking her body. She had never felt so broken, so utterly devastated. Her mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion, the sting of his words replaying over and over.

In her desperation, she reached for her phone with trembling hands, dialing the only number she knew by heart. Yunho. Her best friend, her rock. He answered almost immediately, concern evident in his voice.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asked, the worry in his tone making her tears fall even faster.

“I... I can’t... Yunho, please... make it stop. I can’t take it anymore,” she choked out between sobs. “It hurts so much. Just make it stop.”

Panic gripped Yunho as he heard her desperate plea. He could barely make out what she was saying, but the fear in her voice was enough. “Are you hurt? Where are you? I’m coming right now!” he said, already grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

Y/N couldn’t form a coherent response, the words catching in her throat. All she could do was cry, the pain overwhelming her completely. But she held onto the phone, knowing that Yunho was on his way.

It wasn’t long before Yunho was bursting through her door, his heart pounding with fear. The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. The apartment was a disaster—broken glass and scattered belongings everywhere—but what terrified him most was Y/N, huddled in a corner, her body shaking with sobs.

“Y/N...” he breathed, rushing to her side. He knelt down next to her, his hands hovering uncertainly, not wanting to startle her. “I’m here... It’s okay, I’m here.”

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her face a mask of pain. “Yunho... I need you to help me forget him,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I don’t want to think about him anymore. I want to erase him from my mind, like he never existed. Please, Yunho... make it stop.”

His heart broke at her words, at the sheer desperation in her voice. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she cried against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Y/N... I’m so sorry this happened,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m here now. You’re not alone.”

Y/N clung to him, her grip almost painfully tight, as if she was afraid he would disappear. Yunho held her, letting her cry, feeling her pain as if it were his own. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, her sobs began to subside, leaving only quiet sniffles.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. There was a raw vulnerability in her gaze that Yunho had never seen before, and it made his chest tighten. Without thinking, he reached up to gently brush a tear from her cheek, his thumb lingering on her soft skin.

“Yunho...” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Kiss me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat at her words. For a moment, he just stared at her, trying to process what she was asking. “Y/N... I don’t think...”

“Please,” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “I just need to feel something else... anything else... I need you.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He could see the pain in her eyes, the desperate need to escape from it, even if just for a moment. He wanted so badly to take it all away, to give her the comfort she was asking for. But he also knew that she wasn’t thinking clearly, that this wasn’t what she really needed.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern. “You’re not thinking straight right now. This isn’t the answer.”

She shook her head, more tears spilling over. “I don’t care. I just want to forget... even if it’s just for a little while. Please, Yunho... kiss me.”

He hesitated, torn between his desire to protect her and the deep affection he had always felt for her. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized that this wasn’t just about the moment. It was about her needing to feel loved, to feel wanted after being torn apart by someone who was supposed to care for her.

Slowly, Yunho leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. She responded immediately, her hands gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself to him. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent as she poured all her pain and desperation into it.

But just as her hands started to wander, Yunho gently pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Y/N, we can’t... not like this,” he whispered, his voice full of restraint.

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “Why not? Please, Yunho... I need this.”

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “Because I care about you too much to let this happen when you’re hurting like this. I want you to be sure, to be ready... and right now, I know you’re not.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but she nodded slowly, understanding even though it hurt. “Just... kiss me,” she whispered. “Please, Yunho, just kiss me.”

Yunho’s heart ached at her plea, but he couldn’t deny her. He leaned in again, capturing her lips in a tender, lingering kiss. It was full of all the love and care he had for her, a silent promise that he would be there for her no matter what.

When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers again, his hands gently stroking her hair. “I’m here, Y/N,” he whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

She nodded, a small, broken smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Yunho... for everything.”

He kissed her forehead, pulling her back into his arms, holding her close. “Always,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’ll always be here for you.”

And in that moment, with Yunho’s arms wrapped around her and his heartbeat steady under her ear, Y/N finally began to feel the darkness start to lift, knowing that with him by her side, she could face whatever came next.

[divinelolita]

TOM X READER: CHEATER

hqehbbwuhd

"God fucking damn it, I knew it!" M/N shouted loudly, his hands going up to grab his hair and tug on it out of anger. He couldn't even look at Tom, he felt like a bubble about to burst. "I didn't do anything!" Tom sneered, his own hands balling into fists at his side as he chewed his bottom lip at an attempt to calm down. It didn't work.

"You didn't do anything?" M/N mimicked, chest rapidly falling and rising with each second. He pulled Tom's phone out of his pocket, where he had originally stored it, and pulled up past messages of Tom and some girl. M/N really had no fucking clue who she was but it was clear Tom knew her very well. He started to scroll through them, hands shaking so hard he could hardly read the messages himself.

Yet M/N could tell that Tom had taking a very strong liking to this girl as he had texted her two times as much a day he had texted M/N. Each message the dreadhead sent was atleast two sentences long, some being quite...explicit.

M/N watched as Toms eyes scanned the phone, mouth agape. His eyes flickered over to the (color) boys face, but instead of his eyes being filled with remorse they were filled with fury and disgust.

"You went through my fucking phone? What the hell!" Tom hollered, yanking the phone out of M/N's grasp. M/N winced slightly, rubbing his fingers over as he stared at Tom in confusion. His boyfriend- ex boyfriend - didn't even apologize. This was so different than the Tom he was used to..it was like Tom's triplet, Thomas, had come along and completely took over Tom's mind.

M/N let out a soft laugh, although he felt anything but humorous. "Of course I did! The way you would immediately hung up on someone whenever I walked in the room? Or how you celebrated Valentine's Day with me on the fucking 15? Damn right I went through it!"

For once, Tom seemed at a loss for words. He would normally have some cocky comeback or joke to add but no, not today. He could only stare at M/N with an expression M/N couldn't quite read. Then, after what seemed like moments of silence, M/N began to speak again.

"Why?" he asked, voice wobbly as tears began to gloss over his eyes. Tom looked frustrated, at the situation or M/N himself, he couldn't tell. Tom, shuffled from foot to foot before taking a deep breath and looking M/N directly in the eye.

"I just..you didn't.." Tom trailed off, his own voice getting wobbly as he tried to find the right words, "..you didn't give me what I needed." he finished coldly, face now showing barley any emotion. M/N wanted to sob, he really had tried his best.

No, no, he did his best. He spent so much time with Tom, going out to eat, to picnics, to the arcade, to the concerts.. Hell, he'd given everything to this fucker! Who was he to tell him he didn't do enough?

"Didn't give you what you needed.." M/N repeated quietly to himself, humming to try to keep himself from crying. He was about to speak before Tom spoke first, "I needed love..we haven't..we haven't done anything in months! No sex, no nothing! Fuck, not even a handjob! I'm a normal man, M/N! I wanted love! "

"And I wanted loyalty!" M/N shot back, tears now silently streaming down his cheeks. He sniffled, a hand going to wipe them away. He heard Tom sigh loudly, but he couldn't force himself to make eye contact. "Look, honey, why don't we just sit down and talk about it, yeah?" Tom cooed sweetly, a whole new personality had wiped over him. Thomas was gone, Tom was back.

When M/N didn't respond, it was obvious that Tom had gotten a little nervous and aggravated. "M/N? Babe? Let's go talk.." he tried again, a hand reaching out to hold him and-

"No." M/N said quickly, swatting Tom's hand away as he took a step back. Tom's eyes narrowed, but he retracted his hand and stood still. "No? What do you want me to do M/N? I'm trying so hard to understand-"

"I want you to leave my house." M/N murmured, just above a whisper.

And so Tom did.

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 26 - "Don't lie to me."

| Rage | Choke | Paranoia |

Characters: Lawrence, Sadie

CW: Female whumpee, male whumper, parental whumper, physical abuse, bruises, strangling, infantilization, brief misogyny (also not by Lawrence)

...

Lawrence started growing more worried than usual when Sadie started talking to him less. She wasn't constantly sending him funny images (that he found more confusing than humorous), she wasn't responding to any of his messages, and she rarely answered his phone calls.

At first, he assumed it was nothing, maybe she was just busy and forgot to contact him, but then a week had passed without a single text.

That's when he knew something was up. That was too unlike the Sadie he knew.

The thought of something bad happening to her only made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He sat on the edge of the bed, phone in his hand, his thumb hovering over the call button.

He contemplated leaving another message on her voicemail, but he didn't want to annoy her if that's what the reason for the radio silence was.

Maybe she just didn't want to talk to him.

He rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb. That thought stung him. Had he done something wrong?

He did try to stop himself from acting like a father figure to her, but he couldn't help it. He loved her like a daughter and he wasn't going to hide that from her. She needed to know he cared and wanted the best for her.

Lawrence's phone buzzed, and he nearly dropped it. He caught it just in time, letting out a sigh of relief when he read the name on the screen.

Sadie.

Almost immediately, he answered it. "Hey, kiddo! How're things over there?"

There was a pause, followed by a quiet, "I decided to not do the audition in Lewiston."

Lawrence raised a brow. She sounded so soft-spoken, nothing like he'd expect from her. "What? Why? I thought you really wanted it. Is something wrong?" He didn't bother hiding the worry in his voice.

"Yeah, no. It's just--I can't really go into it right now, but..." He waited for her to continue, his hand clenched into a fist. "Is it okay if I come over? I don't really feel like being alone right now."

She was acting so strangely. He didn't like that. Something was very, very wrong here. He sighed. "Of course you can. You know you're always welcome here, Sadie. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No! It's okay. I have a ride. I'll see you soon."

Before he could even say goodbye, the line went dead. He frowned.

Lawrence spent the entire afternoon pacing around the house and fidgeting with his sleeves. He had no idea what was wrong with Sadie, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. His paranoia always got the best of him, but he couldn't help but think this was more than just that.

Half an hour later, the front door opened, revealing Sadie with a black duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She was wearing a thin sweater and shorts despite the weather, and Lawrence almost scolded her for it, but bit his tongue. That wasn't what mattered right now.

She had a forced smile on her face, but it was evident from the look in her eyes that she'd been crying. Her nose was red, as were the whites of her eyes.

Lawrence ran to her and pulled her into his arms before she could protest. He heard her sniffle into his chest. He guided her inside and closed the door behind him.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Lawrence asked, pulling away so he could check her for any injuries. When Sadie shook her head, his shoulders slumped with relief. His arms wrapped around her again, but looser this time. He cradled the back of her head and rocked her back and forth. "Good. You'll always be safe here. Now let's get you all comfy. I have some snacks and a movie ready in the living room with your name on them."

"Thanks," she croaked.

They went over to the couch where Lawrence had everything set up. He didn't normally allow snacks to be eaten on the furniture, but he would make an exception today. Sadie practically collapsed against the couch cushions.

As he was about to offer a bowl of popcorn and a blanket to her, he noticed the large bruise on her wrist. It was the size of a circle, and dark purple.

He snatched her arm in his hand and inspected it, his frown deepening. "How did you get that bruise?" he asked, his voice much harsher than he intended.

Sadie flushed. "It's nothing, I promise. I was just being clumsy and ran into the door, you know how I am!"

Lawrence narrowed his eyes. "Don't lie to me."

She shrunk under his gaze, trying to tug her arm free from his hold. "It's really nothing, Lawrence. Just drop it." Lawrence opened his mouth to protest, but Sadie cut him off. "I came here to get away from all the chaos, not to get interrogated by you!"

He released his hold on her, sitting back against the cushions. He could feel the anger bubbling up, but he contained himself. Lawrence had to keep it together for her sake.

Sadie huffed and started the movie, but Lawrence made no move to start eating the snacks he set out for the both of them. His thoughts were racing as he kept stealing glances at the bruise.

He kept trying to tell himself he was overthinking it, but his mind wouldn't stop imagining the worst.

Was someone hurting her? He couldn't remember seeing that on her before. Did it happen last time she visited? And what was she getting away from? He could barely pay attention to the movie playing, he was too busy staring at the bruise.

Why wouldn't she just tell him? He could help her, if only he knew the truth.

Lawrence was too caught up in his worry to notice Sadie had fallen asleep until he felt something press against his shoulder. He jumped slightly at the feeling, then realized it was only her. He looked down at her with a small smile. She had a habit of falling asleep on him. He brought an arm around her.

He'd find out the cause of Sadie's unusual behavior no matter what, and he had a feeling the bruise had something to do with it.

...

The next day, Lawrence insisted on dropping Sadie off at the studio and picking her up. Sadie only accepted so she could get Lawrence off of her back.

Dropping her off, Lawrence didn't go inside, but he arrived early to pick her up so he could rule out the potential someone on the cast was mistreating her. He arrived fifteen minutes earlier than planned and strutted inside the building.

He got a couple of confused glances, and even more surprised ones. Though he wasn't the most popular guy to the younger generation, he was very respected in the acting industry and knew how to use it to his advantage.

Lawrence leaned against the reception desk. "I'm picking up Sadie. Sadie Mills? I know she has rehearsal right now, but I wanted to ask if I could talk to the director about something important real quick."

The receptionist gave a polite smile. "I don't know where she is, but Mr. Decker is in his office, the third room on the left down that hallway." She pointed to the corridor beside him. "Can't miss it."

Lawrence gave her a nod in thanks and headed straight there. He doubted he'd know anything about what was going on, but he just wanted to get a feeling of what kind of guy he was.

As he neared the door, the sound of yelling got closer.

"--only reason you haven't been replaced yet is because of me! You're gonna go out into the real world and realize a pretty face won't get you everything you want! That's the way the world works, not whatever little fantasy world you've created. I could take away everything just as fast as you got it."

"Fine! Then take it! I'm done with this! You--"

The voice Lawrence recognized as Sadie, was cut off by a slap and a cry. He growled and stormed inside, letting the door slam open.

Decker didn't have time to process, Lawrence already had him against the wall by his throat. The man coughed and weakly tried to push him off.

Lawrence's eyes were blown wide, his expression feral. "You disgusting piece of shit, who do you think you are?" he yelled, his fingers digging into the flesh of his throat. Decker clawed at his hand. The older man squeezed even harder, forcing a pained gurgle from Decker. "Come near her again and I'll fucking kill you."

Decker couldn't breathe, let alone form coherent words. Lawrence released him.

He fell to the floor, coughing and sputtering, trying to suck in as much oxygen as he could. He pressed a palm to his throat, flinching at the sharp pain there. He wheezed out, "Th-the cops--I'm going to have you arrested! How dare you come onto my set, barge into my office--"

"The cops have tried before, so let them try again! I'd be worrying about the lawsuit that's coming your way if I were you." Lawrence put an arm around Sadie's shoulders.

He dragged her out of the room and pushed through the crowd of curious onlookers who had gathered. He made his way to his car, never releasing his firm hold on her. Sadie made a small noise of pain, and Lawrence eased his grip a bit.

He unlocked the doors with his other hand and opened the passenger side for her. He waited until they were both seated to start ranting.

"Don't worry, honey, he's gonna rot in prison. I'll make sure of it," he assured. Lawrence turned the key in the ignition. "You won't have to go back there."

Sadie avoided his gaze by staring out the window. "You didn't need to do that. I could've handled it myself."

"Handled it yourself?" He scoffed. "That son of a bitch laid his hands on you, you think you can just 'handle it yourself'? I'm not gonna sit back and watch some asshole do that to you." Sadie sighed, causing Lawrence's expression to soften. "Look... I've been acting since I was just about your age. I've met my fair share of sleazy men like that. No one had my back like I have yours. So please, trust me. Let me do this for you."

"I just wanted to prove I can do it on my own, without you babying me."

"Babying you? I don't baby you!" He stopped at a red light. "I'm just... overprotective. But it's because I care about you, I love you like my own daughter." Lawrence placed a hand on her shoulder.

She glared at him, but there was no bite to it. "This is why I didn't say anything! I know you, and you're exactly how I thought you'd be. I'm grateful for you defending me when I actually need it, but you can't handle everything for me. And I don't want to be defined by the people in my life, you included."

"Sadie--"

"Just drop me off at home. Not yours, mine."

"Are you seriously angry about this?" Lawrence's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He was about to retort, but it died in his throat when he saw the determined look on Sadie's face. He felt like a rug was pulled from underneath him. "Fine. But I think you aren't being very fair with me or yourself."

Sadie huffed. "It's not just this. You always swoop in even when I'm not being slapped. Situations I can handle myself. You act like I can't do anything on my own."

Lawrence was tired of denying things that were true. He really did baby her, and he did believe she couldn't do anything on her own. He felt his temper spike at her words. "Well, then go ahead. I don't care. Get yourself into dangerous situations and see how far that gets you."

They stopped in front of her house, and Sadie got out of the car without giving him a second glance.

Lawrence started driving home, trying to convince himself Sadie would come to her senses soon. She'd apologize for her tantrum and Lawrence would apologize for his overbearing attitude (and not mean it). They'd put this behind them and everything would be okay again.

That's what he kept telling himself.

[diealittlesometime]

They're Wrong

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n is confronted with the idea that Natasha is growing tired of her.

Warnings: angst but ends with fluff

Word Count: 899

Navigation | N.R Masterlist | W.M Masterlist

"You're growing tired of me," You say flatly, the words sounding harsh even to your own ears. The corners of your mouth turn downwards into a frown, and you drop your gaze from her intense green eyes to the ground in shame.

Her eyes flicker with guilt before she sighs heavily and shakes her head, "That's not…It isn't true!" She says quickly. Her face is set in determination, and you almost feel bad for bringing that up after all those years of silence. "Don't say such things. I could never ever…" She trails off in hesitation as if unsure how to finish the sentence.

The way her voice wavers at the end makes your heart twist painfully. A lump forms in your throat and you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes. You swallow the emotion and try again. It doesn't work. "But everyone else thinks it." You mumble, looking away from her again.

Your voice sounds choked, but you don't care. You don't want her to see that part of you anymore. The one that's weak, pathetic, and ugly. Your fingers wrap around your arms tighter and you pull them close to yourself, trying to make yourself smaller. "Everyone always tells me that you're getting tired of me-"

"They're wrong."

"Are they?" The words come out more bitterly than intended, but you can't bring yourself to care. "Or are you only saying that to make me feel better?" You ask bitterly. Anger bubbles inside you until suddenly you find yourself on the verge of crying again, unable to hold back any longer.

Her shoulders stiffen and you can hear the crackle of static over the phone before she speaks softly, "Of course not, Y/n."

Your name rolls off her tongue easily, smoothly rolling over each syllable, like oil on water. Her tone is so comforting and gentle that your anger immediately begins to fade away, replaced by a warm sense of relief. But there's still the smallest spark of uncertainty in your chest.

Something about this whole situation feels so wrong, but you know what she means when she says 'they're all wrong.' So, why do you think she's lying?

Her soft voice breaks through the fog clouding your thoughts, "How could you possibly think that?" Her concern is palpable and the warmth spreads further throughout your body.

You huff a small breath of air that escapes your nose in a puff of smoke. "You tell me," Your voice comes out muffled by the fabric of your sleeves.

There is a long pause, filled with nothing but static crackling between the two of you. Then she whispers, "I don't think anyone would ever get tired of you, Y/n." She finishes quietly.

The sincerity in her voice makes your heart swell with warmth despite your worries. It takes a moment for you to respond, but you finally manage a shaky, "Really?" The corner of your mouth quirks upwards and the knot in your chest loosens just a little bit more, "Even though I'm always causing trouble and making you deal with all my problems?"

She laughs lightly, her deep baritone warming your soul, "Especially because you're constantly being a pain in my ass and making me have to put up with your shit." Her laugh is laced with amusement and you find yourself grinning against your will. She pauses then adds, "…and I love you for it."

A warm feeling swells in your chest. There was no denying it now, you were absolutely in love with this woman. You knew you had been since day one, but somehow it had never quite occurred to you before today. Maybe it was because you'd been too caught up with what the others were saying and acting on their opinions instead of yours.

"You love me?" You sniffle a little and wipe the corner of your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Her laugh turns into an exasperated snort, "Yeah, idiot. I love you. I love you. I love you." She says each word as if they are a mantra of sorts, as she walks towards you. When she reaches your side, she wraps her arm around you and pulls you flush against her, her nose buried in your hair as she nuzzles closer.

There's another brief pause before she continues, "So, don't you dare say that to my face ever again. Because that will never happen. Understood?" She mutters into your ear.

You nod, your lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck. "Understood. I'm sorry for doubting you." Your voice is barely audible as you reply.

She hums happily, her grip tightening a little. "Good," She replies simply and you feel her smile against the top of your head. The warmth radiates outwards from her touch. You can't help the grin on your face.

You press into her embrace, inhaling deeply. She smells good and you feel safe and secure as she holds you securely. It's something that you've missed dearly. And although it's selfish, you hope that she'll keep holding you like this for a long time. Forever, even, if it's possible.

"I love you, too." You reply quietly.

Her laughter vibrates through you and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You feel her smile against the crown of your head. And then you both stay silent, letting the warmth of her embrace take over.

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @dreatine - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

Always Been You

It was around 3am when Spencer’s phone awoke him. He recalls it being around 3am rather than a specific time because the sound that greeted him in consciousness was your favourite song, which he had selected as your ringtone, and the fact that you had called him at a time when he had been sleeping meant that he was already far too distracted by thoughts of you to take notice of what the exact time was. For a genius, and for someone who takes as much notice of every little thing as Spencer can, this action alone was enough to give away how head over heels in love with you he was. By the fifth word of the first line of the song, Spencer had answered your call, and before he could utter a word, the sound of your sobs getting caught in your throat caused his entire body to malfunction, reboot, and go on full alert in under a second.

“Spencer...h-he’s gone!” You managed to say before bursting into tears again.

Of course, your best friend on the other end of the phone knew actually who and what you were referring to.

“I’ll be there in five minutes and thirty two seconds, count for me, I’ll stay on the line.” Spencer encouraged as he practically flew out of bed, knowing that his presence and having you count would be two much needed distractions for your state of panic.

“O-Okay.” You answered, while Spencer clumsily shoved his feet into a loose pair of shoes.

“1, 2, 3...” You began, your best friend throwing on a shirt and expertly holding the phone to his ear using his shoulder so that he could hear you, and respond to you immediately if you had any reason to stop counting.

“...9, 10...” And he was out the door, bounding down the hall of his apartment block to the elevator, knowing you needed him more then ever.

“...60, 61, 62...” Spencer had reached his car, and he was reversing out of the parking lot with a determination that made him a force to be reckoned with if any irritable 3am drivers sought to interrupt his journey.

“...116, 117, 118...” He was almost halfway to your apartment and he could hear that your breathing had calmed considerably, your voice quieter in between sniffles.

“Im still here, it’s alright. Keep counting for me, you’ve got this.” Spencer told you, his tone soft as he spoke into the silence left by you pausing your count.

“Thank you.” The words were broken, and so sad, but always grateful, and with that you continued.

Another two minutes passed before Spencer found himself pulling up outside your apartment block. Despite the rush he was in, he did his best to shut his car door quietly, because he knew you liked to have the window open whatever the weather and he didnt want to risk frightening you with a loud noise, even if it was three floors below the room in which you were crying.

“...243, 244, 245...” Your voice spoke in Spencer’s ear as he bounded through the doors of your apartment block.

He stood at the elevator, tapping his foot and jumping on the spit impatiently, before deciding that he couldnt wait the two extra seconds, and he headed for the stairs. By the time he reached your door, Spencer realised that his estimation of how long it would take for him to reach you was a little inaccurate, which again goes to show how much worrying about you really affects him.

“...307, 308, 309...” He was reaching for the spare key hidden on top of your door frame, the one that was reserved just for him.

“...3110, 311, 312, 3-”

And then he was face to face with you, the rest of the number lost to the silence as your eyes met his. Spencer’s gaze focussed only on the image of you, curled up on the floor by the window, wearing a soft pyjama set that he knew to be one of your favourites, in your arms you clutched a picture frame close to your chest, but Spencer couldnt see the picture within it because you had it as near to your heart as you could get it.

Seeing Spencer, you released the picture frame, but it fell against your chest, continuing to conceal whichever photograph you were treasuring. You held your arms out to him, and he knew it was safe for him to run to you without scaring you, so he did just that. Once he was within grabbing distance, you took ahold of his face in your hands, your tearful eyes searching his. Spencer noticed this was something you always did upon being upset in front of him, he never asked why and you never explained, but he realised that in your moments of distress, being able to see that he was alright was reassuring to you, and that warmed his heart. He held your hands against his face, gently tracing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“I overestimated, it only took five minutes and thirteen seconds to get here, Im sorry I made you think it would take longer.” Spencer apologised, his voice careful.

Rather than replying, you simply shook your head, indicating that you saw no reason for him to be sorry, but Spencer was not comforted by your lack of response.

“Talk to me, buttercup.” He used your favourite nickname that only he ever called you, and that was all it took.

Your lip began to tremble, your chin wobbling with it as tears clouded the view of Spencer almost to unrecognisable. Almost. But he knew you so well, and he was quick to assess what you needed as soon as he could; before a single tear fell, you found yourself in his lap, your face in his chest and his arms holding you tightly. You sobbed into his chest, unable to form a single word, and he was smart enough - even when in love - to know that now was not the time to ask questions. Instead, it was the time for comfort, and he was always ready to offer that to you in whatever form you needed. He ran his fingers through your hair, drew patterns on the back of your pyjama shirt with his fingertips, rocked you back and forth in his lap while shushing you gently as your tears soaked through his shirt. It was only then, Spencer glanced around your apartment.

Mess. All he saw was mess. Shelving units had been pushed over, glass ornaments you adored were reduced to shattered pieces in the floor, the wooden table had a hole punched through it and the chairs had been thrown at the walls. If Spencer didnt know enough about the situation already, he would assume that you had been robbed, or someone had attempted to take you. Instead, someone had gotten angry and destroyed the things you worked hard to buy. The ornaments that you never failed to tell Spencer about every time he came over, which all had unique stories of the garage sales or antique auctions you’d found them at. The table and chairs that you had used to treat Spencer to countless homecooked recipes that you had just learnt. Well, you would say countless, Spencer would say 56.

Within the mess, though, Spencer noticed something odd. Not a single picture frame had been taken off the walls, nor had any photograph you displayed on a shelf been damaged. Every picture of you and the man Spencer hated more than anything in the world, was still intact. So what was the photograph that you were still keeping close to your chest?

That wasnt important, not then at least. He needed to get you out of that environment, that was his priority.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? There’s shattered glass everywhere, it’d take at least another hour to clear it all up until it was safe to walk around, and you need to get some rest.”

All he got in response was a nod against his chest, and that was enough. Without any further questions, Spencer helped you to your feet and then lifted you to carry you bridal style, which he would have done even if you werent barefoot in a room with glass all over the floor. He carried you to your room and gently placed you on the bed, where you sat up and immediately reached for his hand. Squeezing it gently, Spencer gave you a reassuring smile, and you managed the weakest of smiles back. He kept ahold of your hand as he found your over night bag, which he packed with items you would need, each of which he showed you and waited for you to give a nod of approval before he placed them in the bag. Once the bag was packed, Spencer helped you into a pair of shoes and you stood, placing the picture frame face down on your bed while he held out a jacket for you. The photograph was back in your arms as soon as the jacket was on.

On the way back to Spencer’s apartment, he put your playlist on to fill the silence with something he knew you enjoyed, and one of your hands kept ahold of his arm as you stared out of the window in a daze, the picture frame locked under your other arm.

When you arrived at your destination, Spencer opened your door for you and helped you out, sensing that the whole situation had exhausted you substantially. You walked slightly behind him, holding onto his arm, like a child being led back to their room by a grownup after a nightmare, exhausted but kept awake by the fear that loomed over you.

It wasnt the first time you had stayed the night at Spencer’s. Prior to getting into a relationship, sleepovers with your best friend were a regular occurrence, despite spending all day everyday at each other’s sides at work, sometimes that wasnt enough. Sometimes, you both needed your best friend for just a little longer. But that hadnt happened for a long time, for the year and a half you were in a relationship you hadnt visited Spencer at all. He had stayed at your place for dinner multiple times, but you never visited him, always making up an excuse when he tried to invite you over, because unlike you, when Spencer was at your house he had the strength to leave. But as you stepped into his apartment, memories flooded your mind. The countless times you had played boardgames together sat on the floor of his living room, how you’d helped him paint the walls and hang new pictures up, the mass of books he let you borrow from that bookshelf, the dinners and desserts you cooked in that kitchen, and the laughter. The chorus of yours and his laughter sounded faint and distant, but not out of reach.

Spencer led you to his room and opened his closet.

“You can take anything for a change of clothes, and if you’d like to have a shower, it’s all yours. Make yourself at home.”

You smiled weakly. “I’ve missed home.”

Spencer’s face visually fell at the meaning behind your words. This was what you regarded as home, not your own place with your boyfriend of over a year. What Spencer didnt realise was that he had in fact misunderstood you. His apartment want your home, he was.

Once you’d taken a shower, you re-entered Spencer’s room and started flicking through the clothes in his closet. You settled for a shirt that you had seen him wear more times than you could count, it felt the most him, and as soon as you slipped it over your head, his scent enveloped you.

Your best friend knocked on the door lightly, and you called to him to come in, which he did, a small smile on his face. That smile grew exponentially when he saw you wearing his shirt, despite him expecting the sight, nothing could have prepared him for it. Spencer noticed the picture frame that you had left face down on his bed, and he frowned curiously, walking over to it without looking at you. The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears, and as he lifted the frame to turn it over in his hands and see the picture it held, you froze in place. Spencer had expected to see a picture of you and your ex, assuming that you were clinging to a happy memory. The latter was correct, but the happy memory you were clinging to was Spencer’s 27th birthday, three years ago, which consisted solely of a sleepover at your place, bundled up in blankets, just the two of you. It was at the end of the first movie that you pulled out a disposable camera you had bought for the occasion, and the two of you smiled together, laughing slightly at your effort to hide the disposable camera all that time. You had gotten the picture printed large enough to fill a picture frame, which Spencer now held in his hands, staring down at the picture, slightly distorted by the broken glass that sat in front of it. He was about to ask why you had treasured that photograph in particular, but before he could, he heard you sniffle, and Spencer forgot any question he had.

“H-He broke it! Everything that involved you! All of it! E-Everything that made me feel at home.” You blurted out hurriedly, stumbling over your words as tears stung your eyes.

Spencer took two quick strides to reach you and pull you into his arms.

“Why did he do that?” He asked, not understanding why your ex would destroy things that meant so much to you that all specifically linked to him.

“B-Because he knew, he f-figured it out!” You cried, the tears falling freely from your stinging eyes. Spencer gently moves you to his bed and keeps you in his arms as you both lower yourselves to sit on the edge of it, with the photograph on Spencer’s lap. He carefully pulled away from you, just enough to see your face, and the pain on your countenance as you cried broke his heart.

“What did he figure out?” He asked quietly, his curiosity eating him alive.

At first, you didnt answer, you couldnt, the words were too heavy, too full of a meaning that scared you so much. But you knew it was time. The truth had been suffocating you for far too long, and after attempting to distance yourself from it in the hopes it would simply evaporate, you knew the truth was sticking around. So, in the quietest, most vulnerable voice that had ever passed your lips, you told him.

“It’s always been you.”

Spencer’s mind went blank. He was a smart man, a genius, and his extensive knowledge on everything included the art of what it means when things are left unsaid, the weight such short phrases can have. If he had heard this as an outsider, if he wasnt directly involved, he would know exactly what those words meant. But it was you, it was him, and he could not believe that you had intended to say the words he’d been dying to hear.

“What do you mean?”

His question was innocent and curious, but you couldnt help laughing. Of course his mind would short circuit at the one time you didnt want to elaborate. Spencer couldnt help but notice the conflict in his heart at seeing you chuckle through your tears.

“Since the start, it’s always been you. I thought it was simple at first, something I’d just get over, but everyday I got to know you better, everyday I learnt more amazing things from you and about you. You became my favourite person in less than a day, stole my heart the second you introduced yourself, and you had the audacity to hold onto it for all these years. When I met him and there was a shred of a spark, I threw myself at it, desperate to find something that wasnt as doomed as my feelings for you. But it was never going to work. Keeping myself away from you as much as I did only hurt me more, the feelings I had no longer brought excitement and butterflies, instead painful sadness because I was even less likely to have your heart in return for giving you mine. H-He figured it out, he accused me of being in love with you, and when I couldnt deny it... he, he lost it, to say the least. Broke e-everything that reminded him of you. I-I didnt mean to hurt him Spencer, I did love him, I did, but not enough, I could never love anyone else, because it’s you. It’s always been you.”

By the end of your speech, your tears had slowed, and Spencer understood that talking about him in any capacity was enough to calm you, which warmed his heart. Your words were sinking in, slowly, and he processed them so quickly his head was spinning.

“Why did you think your feelings for me were hopeless?” Spencer questioned, that particular sentence not making sense to him.

You shook your head and met his eyes “Really, Spencer? Do you honestly think Im delusional enough to believe I had even a fraction of a chance with you? You’re a perfect genius, and Im just...me.”

It was Spencer’s turn to chuckle. “The only correct thing you just said is that you are you. The only person that laughs at my stupid jokes, the only person to smile and encourage my rants and fact-explosions, the only person to actually like me enough for me to believe it, the only person who makes me light up at the mention of her name, the only person I have ever felt safe enough to give me heart to. You are you, and you, (Y/N), are everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and so, so much more.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Or did it stop completely? You couldnt tell, you were too busy floating up into the clouds, ready to take your place among the stars, because you were glowing just like them. You stared at Spencer, fresh tears filling your eyes, but this time there was no pain in sight. Instead, a wide grin spread across your face, which Spencer reflected back at you. Soon enough, the two of you were laughing, unable to comprehend how ridiculous you had both been to hide your feelings for so long, to go to such extents to distance yourselves, to not just say it. Once you had quietened down, a question hung in the air, an uncertainty regarding what was going to happen next, and you locked eyes, waiting, until...

“So, wanna go on a date sometime?”

[spectrechosts]

This Will Surely Save The Website

In memory of Cohost I'll start reposting my stories with this one. Six months ago they announced the site was in financial trouble and within a few hours I had written and posted this incredibly goofy piece of smut. It is, despite it's unseriousness, a love letter to Cohost. It didn't save the website, but it did get liked by the CEO.

Intern Secretary Eggbug hurried through the rows of cubicles, printouts for her boss's 2 o'clock Friday meeting stacked precariously in her arms. She rounded a corner without slowing down and-

"Woah!"

She walked right into someone, sending herself, her papers, and her unsuspecting coworker's phone tumbling to the ground.

"S-Sorry!" She squeaked, gathering up printouts as fast as she could, frantically scanning them for page numbers so that she could re-order them back into neatly sorted packets.

"Hey, are you okay?" The woman she had collided with asked her, and Eggbug nodded without looking up.

"Yeah, I just, the stapler by the printer was out of staples and I don't know where they keep them yet so I was just going to take these back to my desk and staple them there but uh now they're all out of order so I have to-"

"Hey." The woman repeated, softer this time. "Take a breath. Are you okay?"

Eggbug took a shaky breath, and looked up to see who she had so rudely bumped into.

Oh god. The CEO's daughter. She was so fired.

"O-O-Oh no I'm so sorry miss, um, are you okay? I, your phone, let me-"

She searched the floor for her phone, ignoring her protestations, and found it under one of her printouts. She saw the still unlocked screen, purely on accident, and it was opened to-

To Cohost. She was making a chost, and not just any chost, one that contained an array of delightful Eggbug emoji. Her cheeks turned pink as she handed it back to her, staring at the floor.

"Miss, are you, um... Are you a Cohost Plus subscriber?" She asked, heart beating out of her chest.

"I am." The CEO's daughter replied. "For only $50 USD a year I'd be a fool not to be. The Eggbug emoji are so cute, aren't they?"

Eggbug just nodded at the ground, her blush deepening.

"I even bought the Eggbug plush." The woman continued, sinking down to the floor to take Intern Secretary Eggbug's hand. "I'm sorry I bumped into you, can I take you out for drinks tonight to make up for it?"

~

Intern Secretary Eggbug set her empty beer down on the table and sighed, finally unwinding from the stress of the week.

"I'm so bad at this jobbbbbbb..." She whined, and the Cohost Plus Subscriber put her arm around her shoulder and hugged her.

"Aw, c'mon, you did your best." She said, and Eggbug looked at her with big wet eyes.

"I diiid! I did my besht!" She sniffled, and the CEO's daughter motioned for the check.

She had kind of blown this date, probably. She scarfed her food down like she was a shark and it was a fibre-optic cable and then immediately started drinking and crying. She was a mess. And as they left, in the yellow light of the sodium-vapor streetlamps, the other woman was so pretty and put together, like all the people who give money to support their favorite website are.

"Can I walk you home?" The Cohost Plus subscriber asked, and the two walked down the streets in awkward silence.

"Sssso, you uh, you see that thing in the news with Ryan Reynolds?" She said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Just, beam of light outta nowhere."

Eggbug nodded. "Yeah, I heard he's only carbon now."

"Crazy."

The silence returned, hanging over them like a dark cloud, until they reached Eggbug's apartment and-

"Hey, I don't want to be too forward, or anything, but, do you think we could do this again sometime?" The CEO's daughter asked.

Eggbug blinked.

"Wait, really?" She said, stunned.

"Yeah! I know I've been a little quiet but I just was nervous because you're like, really pretty-"

"I am???"

"You are! You're beautiful, Intern Secretary Eggbug, you're like a..." The woman gestured, trying to come up with something that could capture her beauty. "You're like, like a chost that doesn't use global feed tags."

Eggbug gasped a tiny squeak of delight.

"It's so annoying when people use those."

"The devs hate it."

"And people just add words to them and then it's like, you're just adding extra shit to the tag for no reason, just tag it as the fucking words you put in the brackets."

"Can- Can we kiss?"

"Hell yes."

Eggbug got up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms behind the taller woman's neck, drawing her into a kiss. And another, and another, soft lips meeting again and again, the Cohost Plus Subscriber's tongue gently pressing into Eggbug's mouth until the two of them broke apart, breathless.

"So, um." Intern Secretary Eggbug panted, blushing. "Do you wanna come upstairs?"

~

The two couldn't keep their hands or mouths off eachother as they entered Eggbug's apartment and quickly shed their clothes. The Cohost Plus Subscriber's kisses were hungry now, full of nipping teeth that made Eggbug whimper and melt into her embrace.

They found their way to her bed, and Eggbug let out an awed gasp as she removed the other woman's underwear and her thick shaft sprung free.

"Wow... It's so big..." She cooed.

"Don't worry. With Cohost Plus's increased upload limit, I can make it fit." The Cohost Plus Subscriber husked.

She eased Intern Secretary Eggbug onto her back and ran two fingers through her dripping folds, brushing her thumb against her clit.

"P-Please-" Eggbug whined. "I'm already so wet from knowing you support the best blogging website on the internet..."

The Cohost Plus Subscriber chuckled and relented, lining the tip of her cock up with Intern Secretary Eggbug's slit. She started pushing it in slowly, and Eggbug saw stars. Her heart fluttered as she felt the kind of love that only a true choster could give her.

"Oh, Eggbug..." The Cohost Plus Subscriber sighed blissfully, before kissing her neck and sucking hard, leaving a hex code #83254F colored mark. Their lips crashed together again as she rutted into her, the two driving eachother to the height of pleasure.

The Cohost Plus Subscriber broke the kiss, panting.

"Fuck, Eggbug, I'm gonna upload-"

"Please, fuck-" Intern Secretary Eggbug moaned. "I need all 10 megabytes deep inside me!"

The Cohost Plus Subscriber slammed her hips down a final time, and groaned as she pumped her thick load into Intern Secretary Eggbug's womb. Eggbug wasn't far behind, her legs spasming as she crossed her peak.

"Th...Thank you for subscribing to Cohost Plus......*" She murmured, holding her close as they drifted to sleep in eachothers arms.

MORAL OF THE STORY

COHOST PLUS SUBSCRIBERS GET TO FUCK THE BUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEND THEM YOUR MONEY NOWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Intern Secretary Eggbug belongs to Kyn who I hope never sees this

AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR TUMBLR: She did see it.