#bottle breaking (inbox emptying)

[carideatheecreative]

>:3c [|̩̩̍̍8̵͊7

omg <333 yeah true

[barleyo]

Your Miguel x Reader fic was so freaking good!! I'd love to read more from you, especially Miguel x Shy!Reader (the personality of y/n kinda ressembles mine lol)! Anyways, thank you so much and keep up the great work!

Next Time.

(Miguel O'Hara X Fem! Reader)

A/N: Sorry, this is just a drabble and isn't nearly as long as my OG fic, but I hope you still enjoy it! Feel free to send a request to my inbox, as my requests are always open.

“No, no, no,” (Y/N) sighed, staring at the broken glass shards in front of her. 

She had been getting better, she really had. With careful supervision by Miguel and a steady hand, she had been able to limit her accidents. However, her clumsiness seemed to always lurk, waiting to strike at the most inopportune time. 

“Okay, maybe I can just pick them up,” she whispered to herself. Carefully, she wiped at the pieces, sweeping the smaller pieces into a nearby waste basket. 

“Everything okay over here?” He walked over, leaning onto her workstation just as she finished grabbing a final large piece of glass. She quickly palmed the piece, clenching it behind her back. “Thought I heard something break, no?”

“No, no, nothing is going on over here, just, uhm, cleaning up. I’m just about to pack up and head home for the day.” (Y/N) squeaked, feeling the shard slice her palm with a sharp sting. 

“Whatever you say,” he said. Unconvinced, Miguel turned around, pretending to walk away. 

Once he made it a few paces away, (Y/N) pulled her hand back around and paled at the blood dripping down her palm. The glass was lodged right in the middle of her palm, jaggedly stuck into it. 

“I knew it,” he groaned, snatching her hand away, “look at how bad that is. Are you kidding me? Come here.” He dragged her out to the hallway until she started to shake him off.

“You’re embarrassing me  in front of everyone, Miguel. Stop, I promise, it’s not nearly that bad, it’s okay! Promise!”

“If it’s not that bad, why were you hiding it? Why is it bleeding? Damn it, you have glass stuck half an inch deep into your hand. Come, now.” He gently swooped her up into a messy bridal-style hold, carrying her into the break room. 

He sat her down on the counter right next to the sink, legs hanging over the side. 

“Duck.”

She bobbed her head down in compliance as he dug through the cabinet behind her, pulling out gauze, tweezers, and disinfecting liquid. Taking the tweezers, he attempted to pull the glass out, wiggling it slightly until it dislodged itself for her palm.

“I just don’t get it,” he sighed frustratedly, “why wouldn’t you just tell me you got hurt?”

“I didn’t want to tell you, I don’t know,” she wiped her face with her uninjured hand, “I was just doing so well, and I messed it up when I broke that beaker.” 

“But why?” He opened the bottle and looked up to meet her eyes, “Hold onto my hand, this will sting.” He drenched the wound and (Y/N) squeezed down onto his hand, digging her nails into it. 

“I guess I didn’t want you to be upset with me, I thought you’d be mad,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No, claro que no. Well, no, yes, I am a bit upset with you. You hurt yourself instead of just telling me and letting me help. I would have cleaned it up for you, you know.”

“I thought you were tired of picking up after me.” 

Miguel wrapped her hand up in gauze, keeping it taut and compression-like. “I did say that, didn’t I? I lied.” He let go of (Y/N)’s hand, lifting the back of it up to his lips. “I’ve missed it a bit. My days feel empty when I do not have a little (Y/N) mess to deal with. Makes me feel useful. Feel better?”

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Thanks, Miguel.”

“Hmph,” he turned her hand around, now placing kisses on her bandaged palm. 

“What are you doing?” She giggled as his hair hit her arm while he peppered kisses over her hand.

“I’m just kissing your boo-boo, mi tesoro, let me work.” He smirked into her hand, knowing he was embarrassing her.

“You don’t have to– mm,” she hummed as he made his way up her arm with the kisses, stopping at her shoulder.

He pulled her shirt to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. He brought his mouth to it and teased his teeth over the exposed patch of skin, not quite biting into it. Miguel took (Y/N)’s face in his hand and kissed her, scraping his teeth against her bottom lip and nibbling on it. He slid his tongue over the raw lip, calming the sharp sting.

He baited her to open her mouth, wrapping his arms around her torso and grabbing her ass. She gasped into his mouth as he forced his tongue in, exploring it. 

“Fuck,” he broke away from the kiss briefly, “I can’t take it anymore, I’m gonna take you again in here, baby.” 

“But, people ‘re still in the lab, what if they catch us?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like that?” He pulled her pants to her ankles, working his hand past the band of her panties, and rubbed light, teasing circles on her clit. “Want everyone to watch me fuck you real good, don’t you?”

Her hips bucked into his whispering touches and she let out a guttural moan. “Nuh-uh, can’t let anyone see us, it’ll be embarrassing,” she gasped. 

“No? Then don’t let them catch us then. Keep quiet, muñequita.” He pushed a finger into her and curled it, chuckling at the choking groan she let out. “I know I make you feel good, but you don’t want everyone in the building to hear you, do you?”

(Y/N) shook her head and grabbed onto Miguel’s forearm while he drilled his fingers into her spongey g-spot. She felt his fingers leave just as warmth started to pool in her stomach, whining at the emptiness.

“Why did you take ‘em out?”

“Hey, don’t whine,” he shushed her, “I want you to finish on my dick, okay, baby?” He pulled her down from the countertop, flipping her around so that her ass pushed into his erection. He slipped his dick out of his pants and pulled her panties to the side, pushing his tip into her. “I don’t know if you deserve the whole thing yet,” he teased, “maybe I’ll make you finish with just the tip, hm?”

“No, please, will you please give me the whole thing? I promise, I’ll be good!”

“Oh, you promise?” He continued to slowly pump his cock’s head into her, inching in and out at a snail’s pace. “Gonna be a good girl?” Seeing the back of her head nod up and down, he pushed deeper into her, letting her walls envelope and suck his length in. “Aw, sweetness, I can feel you already clenching up. Gonna cum quick like a lil slut, huh?”

“Yes– God! Feels so good already, ‘m feelin’ so full now.” She rocked her hips, getting herself off on his cock. 

Pressing his hands into (Y/N)’s hips, Miguel took over and slammed her hips back and forth. Skin slapping and wet squelches filled the room. It drove him crazy.

“God, I can hear your wet little pussy so clearly. Mm, she’s talking to me, baby, saying how good she feels.”

(Y/N) threw her head onto her crossed arms, biting down on her own forearms to silence her ecstatic little mewls. “I’m so close,” she mumbled into her arms.

Miguel snapped her hips into her roughly and leaned forward. “Don’t give me that shy shit, speak up.”

She tried to repeat herself, only to find herself a babbling mess as she drenched his dick with her cum, legs shaking while they tried to support her body.

“Good girl, creaming all over my dick.” He groped her tits from the back, pinching them while she rode out her orgasm. “Mm, you gonna let me cum in you again?

“Yes– anything you want,” she arched into his touch, feeling him tweaking and twisting her buds.

He felt his pace become sloppy and rushed. He rutted deep into her heat and came, spurting his load right into her slick walls. “Fuck, ‘s so good,” he sighed, pulling out of her dripping cunt, watching a stream of his cum pool out of her. He picked her up, placing her back on her spot on the counter. 

“Still feel so good.” (Y/N) leaned forward onto his broad shoulder.

“Yeah? Bet I can make you feel even better next time,” he snickered right by her ear.

“Next time?”

“There’ll always be a next time with you.”

[thespacesoffalseandtrue]

Body Paint

i am back and better than ever with something that has been in my inbox A LOT. hope this fills all of the fantasies in each of your pretty heads. my inbox is open, all the feedback is wanted

warnings: PERIOD SEX!!!! fluff jake, demanding jake, oral (m) receiving, unprotected sex, MINORS GET LOST.

You were taking it easy today, the sun was shining through the windows when you woke up and you had a visit from your period to greet you. Your cramps came and went as the day went by, not really bothering you but present enough to remind you.

You were putting the dishes in the dishwasher when you heard the front door open. You turn to find Jake standing in the corner of the kitchen. He had been gone all day, leaving a note on the fridge with the word “studio” scrawled on it with a heart.

“Hey,” you say, washing your hands at the sink.

“Hi pretty girl,” he said, coming up, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“How was the studio?” You ask him as he makes his way to the fridge. He grabs a bottle of water, opens it, takes a long swig. You can’t help but watch his throat as he does this. He seemed tense, pensive almost. Something must have happened at the studio today.

“It was good,” he says to you, putting the cap on the nearly empty bottle. “But I could think of something else I would rather be doing.”

His eyes lazily trail your body. You were wearing a cropped shirt and yoga pants, but with the way hunger sparkled in his gaze, you might as well have been naked.

“That bad?” You ask him. You move around him to go get the folded laundry you left on the back of the couch. You knew that there was usually no place Jake would rather be than at the studio playing his guitar.

Jake simply shrugged, unwilling to talk about what did or didn’t transpire today. “There’s been better days.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, “is there something I can do?” You turn to him as he follows you, grabbing the rest of the clothes off the back of the couch and into your shared bedroom. He doesn’t answer, instead he silently helps you put the clothes in their drawers. You’re about to ask him again when he finally answers you.

“Come over here,” he says from across the room with a hand outstretched to you. You oblige, obviously, when you’re close enough, you take his hand and he pulls you into a hug. He buries his face into your neck and takes a deep breath.

You wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back slightly. He reaches down and squeezes your ass while kissing your neck. When you shiver, he backs you up until you feel the bed on the back of your legs. You don’t move to sit down, instead his lips crash to yours, fiercely. Your arms tighten around you and he moans low in his through. His hands play with the hem of your shirt, his fingers find the bare skin of your waist causing you to shiver. He breaks the kiss and pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor beside you. His eyes darken when he finds your chest bare, your nipples peaked, begging for his attention.

When he bends down to take your nipple in his mouth do you finally say, “I started my period today.”

“That’s good for you.” He says moving to lick the other nipple. His calloused fingers pull at the other one, not wanting it to feel abandoned.

You groan in pleasure and arch against his mouth. “I have a tampon in, Jake.”

“Noted. Now be quiet.”

Your period didn’t seem to bother him or turn him off. His mouth was still working hard on your chest. But you couldn’t help but feel self conscious, sex on your period wasn’t something you had ever tried, for a reason.

“I will be quiet after I say this one thing. The idea of sex on my period doesn’t make me feel sexy.”

He stops and looks at you.

“Allow me to change your mind then.”

He pushes you down until you’re sitting on the bed. He unzips his black pants, takes his hard cock in his hand, and uses his other hand to hold your hair back.

“You’re so pretty, I’ve been thinking about your pretty mouth all day.”

A thrill ran down your body. You knew what he wanted, no, what he needed. Giving him a sly smile you encircled his shaft with your hand and lick the engorged head, you loved the familiar and slightly salty taste of his skin. You close your eyes when you take him all the way into your mouth. He groans in pleasure.

He cradles your head in his hands and flexes his pelvis, slowly sliding his hard cock down your throat. You take it all, mouth open wide.

“Fuck,” he whispers raggedly. “You are a dream.”

You swallow around his length and he moans out your name.

Setting a slow, steady pace, you take him in and out of your mouth, sucking and licking the crown and stroking his rigid shaft, sliding your tongue along the throbbing vein that runs under the length of it. You suck and swirl and stroke, your head bobbing and your nipples aching, so turned on, you think you might be able to cum from the friction of your panties against your clit alone.

He fucks into your mouth until he’s panting. Low helpless groans come from deep in his chest. His cheeks are slightly pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. He wraps a hand around your throat.

“I’m close baby, are you ready?”

When you make a small sound of agreement around him, he begins to thrust harder and faster until he’s moaning your name, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. He climaxes, spilling himself on your tongue in short bursts, every one you swallow, looking up at him through your eyelashes in a lust-filled haze.

He’s still for a moment, catching his breath, slightly rubbing the scalp of your head with his fingertips. He opens his eyes and looks down at you as you clean him off with your tongue. He smiles down at you and runs his thumb across your bottom lip.

He pulls you up from your sitting position and flush against his chest. His lips hover over yours, you can feel the heat radiating off of them. You wanted to press your lips to his and tangle your hands in his hair.

“Okay?” He asks you. You knew what he was asking.

“I don’t know,” you said, feeling heat rush to your face at the idea. “I am so gross, Jake and it will be so messy and the sheets…”

“Let’s make a mess of them, yeah?” He presses his lips to yours, in a gentle kiss. “Nothing about you is gross, okay? This is a normal part of life but it shouldn’t stop you from living.”

“From fucking you, you mean?” You say jokingly.

“That too. It is my favorite part of living at least.” His eyes were so sincere, so warm, so familiar. You trust him completely, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Okay,” you tell him. He smiles at you big and guides you down to lay flat on your back. He yanks his shirt off over his head. His pants and underwear follow closely behind. He bends down to trail kisses from your neck, your breasts, your stomach. When he reaches the waistband of your yoga pants he looks up to you, making sure you are still okay. You nod and lift your hips, allowing him to pull both your pants and panties off.

He slides his left hand under your hips, to situate you, and then presses your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

You gasp in pleasure at the sensation. Keeping his left hand between your thighs, his right hand moves and grips your breast. You feel as if your body was on fire. He looks up at you with hooded eyes as he continues to lazily stroke your clit.

You bite your lip and close your eyes. He moves up and begins to pepper kisses around your nipple. He begins to bite and tug at the bud and his tongue smooths over the stinging spots he leaves in his wake. You begin to rock your hips against his hand.

“Good girl,” he says, his thumb and forefinger moving faster against your clit. You can feel yourself being brought over to the edge of pleasure. Right as you’re about to tell him not to stop, does he stop. You whimper at the loss of friction.

“I’m going to take care of this okay?” You open your eyes and see him holding the string to your tampon.

“No, Jake, let me-” before you can finish your sentence he had already removed it and threw it away in a trash can beside the bed. You could feel your cheeks begin to warm.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s just me,” he says, bringing a hand up to your cheek.

“I know,” you say, bringing him down to cover you. You expected yourself to be more embarrassed or turned off but this was Jake and the way he felt against you, over you, nothing could ever compare.

“I love the way you look under me,” he says, lining himself up to your entrance. He thrusts into you in one swift motion.

“Fuck,” he groans out, “you take me so well.”

Your hands move to his back, looking for an anchor as he begins to move against you at a smooth and even tempo.

You try very hard not to make a sound, but you can’t help how hard you’re breathing. You keep your eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure builds. Heat ripples through your lower body in waves, intensifying with each stinging blow and stroke of him inside of you. Soon, you’re biting your lower lip with the effort to keep from moaning.

“I want to hear you, don’t be shy.”

You can hear how wet you are, your ecstasy and your period mixing together. You look down and see that your slick has coated him from the small patch of pubic hair that sits at his navel all the way down to his thighs. He looked like you had painted him a scarlet color. The sheets underneath you were once a light gray and are now stained in crimson. You should be embarrassed, disgusted even but your body was pulsating with pleasure.

The pad of his thumb found its way back to your clit and he began to rub it in smooth circles. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to be able to wait.

“Jake,” you gasp out between pants.

“Cum,” he commands you, moving his thumb faster to match his thrusts. “I want to feel you cum around me.”

You feel your walls contract around him. You buck and cry out, convulsing helplessly. He’s growling something in your ear that sounds filthy, but you can’t concentrate on anything else but the pleasure exploding through your body. He grips your hips tightly.

“Fuck I’m going to fill you up.” He fucks you through your orgasm and does exactly as he says, fills you up just as he did your mouth minutes ago.

When you return to yourself, you’re weak, feeling emotionally exposed, and shaking all over.

Jake looks absolutely fucked out, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, skin slick with sweat as he leans over and kisses you so softly as if you were going to break.

“Who do you belong to?” He whispers softly.

“You,” you tell him.

“Who fucks you better than anyone ever has?”

“You,” you say again.

“Who loves you more than anything in the entire world?”

“You.”

He smiles softly at you and peels his body off of you. His eyes glance down to the mess the two of you made. You could feel the coppery stickiness between your legs and you can’t n help but smile slightly at the mess on his legs too. He smirks up at you and pulls you up to his chest so that you’re standing beside him pressed to his side. He kisses you once and then spins you around so that you can see the bloody mess on the bed sheets.

“Damn hottest thing I’ve ever seen, you looked so beautiful, ethereal. Thank you for letting me experience you.” He whispers in your ear. He kisses your bare shoulder.

“Can we go shower?” You turn to ask him.

“Should I change the sheets before or after?”

“Why would you wait until after? Just do it now and I will help you?”

“No I just don’t want to go through all that trouble changing the sheets if we are just going to mess up another pair,” he says with a grin and a playful slap to your ass.

You can help yourself you grin up at him and all but skip to the shower, hearing him follow closely behind.

[svltzmans]

message in a bottle - h.m.

a/n: hello hello!! i'm currently working on all the requests in my inbox and this one is so cute!! i love writing cute little fluffy romantic stories <3 i hope y'all like them!!

warnings: none :)

hope's yearly trip to new orleans to visit her family was always something she looked forward to. as much as she loved living in mystic falls and being surrounded by close friends, she always yearned for the part of her that was missing.

however, there had been some major changes in her life since the last time she visited new orleans.

she had fallen deeply for someone that it would be difficult to leave, even for a little while.

y/n was absolutely thrilled that her girlfriend got to visit her family. she knows how close they are and how little they got to see each other in person.

however, she knows it won't be easy to go without seeing hope for a full week. to say the couple is attached at the hip would be an understatement.

y/n's first day without hope was full of distraction. she did every activity she could, desperately trying to avoid feeling hope's absence.

hope's drive to new orleans was uneventful, except for her attempts to zone out and pretend y/n was in the passenger seat.

when hope finally arrives and greets her family, she immediately feels empty without y/n's presence. she brushes it off, trying to reconnect with her parents and aunts.

while in the middle of a conversation with klaus, a text pops up on hope's phone.

hey, love. i miss you. how is it in new orleans?

hope smiles as soon as she realizes the text is from y/n.

"what's the smile for, darling?" klaus questions, seeing that hope is profusely blushing as she types a response.

"just a funny text from a friend," she responds, trying to control her excitement about hearing from y/n.

hope hadn't told her family that her and y/n were dating. it wasn't that she didn't want to, but she just didn't feel ready. she didn't want her visit to only be focused on her love life, especially because her dating a girl might be a surprise.

klaus dismisses the subject, but hope can tell he's suspicious. she silently curses her tendency to blush.

so far so good. miss you more. can i call you later? wanna hear your voice.

hope finally sends her response to y/n, unable to hold back another smile.

rebekah had prepared an extravagant meal for hope's arrival, and hope thought it was entirely overkill.

nonetheless, she was grateful, and she sat at the table surrounded by klaus, hayley, freya, rebekah, marcel, kol, and elijah.

the group effortlessly falls into conversation as if they had never been apart, sharing laughs and stories.

hope debates telling them about y/n, but stops herself, wanting to properly introduce them to her when the time comes.

when hope finishes her plate, she's quick to excuse herself to her room. she insists that she's tired from the travel, although her overly happy demeanor suggests otherwise.

as soon as she closes the door behind her, she dials y/n's number.

"hey, darling," y/n's voice sounds velvety through the receiver, and hope can't help but to kick her feet a bit in her bed.

"hi, beautiful. how was your day?"

"it was okay. it would have been so much better with you. how's your family?"

"loud, but good so far," hope laughs, hearing y/n's giggle from the other end of the line.

"i can't believe it hasn't even been a whole day yet. i miss you like crazy."

"you're just obsessed with me, aren't you?" hope teases, giggling at y/n's affection.

"guilty as charged."

as the group continues to talk in the kitchen down the hall, they can't help but to tune into hope's conversation.

they blame their enhanced sense of hearing, but their interests are all piqued by the romantic nature of hope and y/n's conversation.

"that sounds a bit more than friendly," freya breaks the silence, smirking knowingly.

"you would know, wouldn't you?" rebekah teases, and the table erupts in laughter.

"should we say something?" marcel questions, almost feeling guilty for continuing to listen.

"she'll tell us on her own time, right?" hayley adds, trying to relieve marcel's guilt.

like clockwork, hope walks down the hall, having just ended her call with y/n.

"guys, can i tell you something?"

the group all nods in unison, already sure they know what hope is going to say.

"i have a girlfriend."

"it seems you've forgotten we all have vampire hearing, love," klaus responds, earning a dirty look from hayley. "what! it's true!"

hope turns a deep shade of red, realizing that her entire family had heard her flirt with her girlfriend over the phone.

after a few seconds of silence, the entire mikaelson family burts into laughter, as if they were all aware of the awkwardness of the situation.

"love you, hope," elijah smiles, giving hope an encouraging pat on her back.

"love you too."

[elslovers]

Abby x Reader ANGSTTTTTTT PLEASEEEEE

NEED YOU

Modern!abby x reader

Your knee is blood, dripping down onto your calf at a pace so slow and painful it almost feels taunting.

This is how you operate, after all. First, you get a gut feeling your girlfriend of almost a year becomes distant for a day or two, making the alarm bells in your mind ring at total volume, which then makes you cold and defensive whenever she does offer you the love you crave so deeply then you lose it a little sneaking glance at her phone when she's taking a piss in the bathroom of your shared apartment until you finally give into your crazy and search her phone and find the same thing you always find some other girls half naked body in her inbox that she didn't even bother to hide because she knew you'd never leave her the same sequence of events had went down tonight some girl whose name you didn't bother to learn had her body spread out across the screen of Abby's phone staring down as it shook in your hand she caught you - or rather you let her catch you which started a fight that would last hours.

You are demanding to know why you weren't enough

Her screaming so loudly you thought she must be shredding her lungs

You are shaking and sobbing like a child

Her begging for forgiveness

It was a cycle. It happened every few months like clockwork Dina had begged you to leave, but you loved Abby and were convinced you could work through it

Until the night

Every person has a breaking point, and you had finally reached yours. The cycle was breaking, and right from the start, you both knew it. The moment you saw the picture your face hardened, the soft, personified sunshine of a human being Abby had known slipping through her fingertips. She had finally broken you

You didn't say a word as you tugged on your shoes, your hands shaking but refusing to let a single tear fall.

You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of letting her see you break again

"Fucking answer me."

She shouted, but her voice was so low it sent a chill through every atom of your body.

"Tell me what the fuck you're doing."

Abby screamed a little harder, a sob echoing in her chest as she watched you search for your car keys, pacing around your shared space for your wallet

You refused to look her in the eye partly because she didn't deserve it and partly because you knew if you had, you'd give in, and she would be petting your hair and touching you all night until it didn't hurt so bad.

Promising you were the only girl for her

Until the next girl came along

But there wouldn't be a next time

"Don't leave-"

Was the last broken sob masing as a sentence you heard before you slammed the door shut

Now here you were, a skinned knee from stumbling around an empty parking lot, bottle of vodka in hand, cranberry juice in the other.

You were certain Abby had already buried her hurt in someone else's pussy

But you weren't here

So vodka would have to do

It had all been so good when you had first plummeted into love with Abby Anderson.

She met you at a party. You were standing all alone in the corner, out of place, and anxious her your saving grace

She tore you out of your comfort zone as nothing more than a new friend for weeks liking the game of seeing your cheeks light up when she complimented you are enjoying the power of being the only person you could cling to at a party she got you safe with her trust wasn't in your nature so it took some time she spent many nights making you think something would happen and never giving in just so you knew she wasn't going to hurt you as people had before but once she knew she had you melting down the palm of her hand trust oozing out of you she gave in bringing you flowers writing you notes and touching you in ways you didn't know existed.

Abby was your light in the darkness

And she always promised you were hers

So where had it all gone wrong

You wrap your lips around the bottle, a sob leaving them, alcohol spilling down your chin as you sit on the cement.

Reflecting, you knew it was after your first fight. You were terrified to come out to your friends and even know you didn't know why Ellie was out, and no one cared, but when it came to your own sexuality, you knew it would shock people, and nothing scared you more than the idea of not living up to people's expectations of you or at least you thought until you saw Abby angry

The way her face would go red, every muscle in her body towering over her blue eyes growing so dark, they made you feel like you wished you never existed, to begin with

Her voice was so loud

So angry

Telling you that if you didn't want to be out with her, she would find someone who did

And Abby makes good on her promises, wasting no time finding a girl to parade around until you came crawling back, which, of course, you did coming out to your friends a day after

It was always something along those lines, an expectation of abbys you failed to meet, so she found someone else who will. Tonight she was mad because you were scared for her to properly meet your friends, who naturally were not her biggest fan.

So she found someone else

Anyone else

And you found the bottom of a bottle

Love was funny how easily it started to feel like hate. You loved Abby, and you hated her, and you didn't think both could be true.

But you both knew you needed her.

Without her, you were alone. You had friends, Ellie and Dina Jesse, when he found the time, but no one saw you like Abby did, and all you really wanted was to be seen

As much as Abby hurt you, she lit you up from the inside and made you a brighter, bolder you.

That's the trouble with relying on someone to light you up they can snuff you out just as fast

You were so drunk you couldn't see her name as you dialed it, laying it beside your ear.

She picked up after the second ring, the voice on the other line cold, but her sobs counteracted her anger

"The actual fuck do you want"

Abby hissed through the phone lines causing you to flinch the pain from your wound paling in comparison to the pain her voice gave you

"Need your abs."

You slurred your words, your heavy eyelids starting to close, seeing stars that weren't really there, the alcohol finally taking its full toll

Your words and the sound of your voice set off every possible alarm bell in Abby's mind

What the fuck has she done to you?

She questioned over and over, desperately tracking your phone with shaking hands, vision blurred from the tears

It wasn't long before she had you tucked into your shared bed

The same bed where she entertained photos of other women right beside you

That was the only part your mind could focus on

"Dont fuckin touch me"

Your slurred hiss sounded so pathetic against her big hands forcing you onto your side and tucking her body beside you

"Let me make it better."

Abby whispered, broken in your ear, brushing your hair down with the palm of her hand, her tears leaking onto your shoulder

"Let me hold my girl let me kiss away your hurt- I've fucked up a lot, and I know this. I can fucking see it now, but I can make it better. Let me show you how much I want you."

She pleaded so desperately you couldn't help but let your crumble a bit as it always did

But much to Abby's dismay, you shook your head body desperately pulling away from hers

"I need you abs, but I don't think I want you anymore."

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Late Night Comfort

Summary - Part 6 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic)

Warnings - mentions of periods, nausea, smut, mild swearing

Word Count: 1806

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. This one gets a little emotional, I literally cried while writing it. And remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy! 

You wake up to an empty bed, and a spread of crackers, soup and an electrolyte drink on your nightstand. As you slowly try to fill your stomach your mind drifts back to when Dean was holding you and feeding you this same meal just days ago. You reach for your phone and call your caring, green-eyed fiancé to thank him for the meal; he answers on the second ring.

“Hey baby, where are you?”

“Just out … I thought I’d uh give you some space. But uh, make sure you eat and drink as much as you can. I’ll come back soon and pick you up and we can hit the road again,” he says before hanging up.

You really were pushing him away, you wonder just how long before he leaves you completely.

What if he asks me to move out of the bunker? Where would I go? I’d literally be barefoot, potentially pregnant and on the street with all the evil. At least if grief doesn’t kill me something else will. I wouldn’t suffer long. 

It’s not long before Dean walks in, interrupting the voice in your head. He notices you’ve barely touched the food or drink and almost slips onto the bed beside you, but he stops himself a few steps short.

“You ready to go?”

You look down at the food and drink in your lap hoping he’ll take the hint and come and hold you like the other day, but when he stays put you just nod and move it all back to the nightstand. 

“Where’s Sam?”

“Waiting in the car. Get dressed and you can meet us out there, and you’re riding shotgun so I can keep an eye on you. You can push me away all you want and I promise I’ll try to stop being so smothering, but you can’t ask me to stop worrying about you.” 

You look up just in time to see his red-rimmed eyes before he turns around and walks outside. Leaving you naked, nauseous and alone in the cold room. You quickly stand up and get dressed, grabbing the drink and crackers along with your bag before leaving. 

You curl up and lean against the window, cradling the drink and crackers in your lap as you let the classic rock music and steady purr of the engine wash over you for the next few hours. You keep your eyes fixed on the road ahead of you, not daring to look at your concerned fiancé. But you can feel him looking at you every so often, but he never makes a move to touch you. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s well after dark when Dean finally parks the car in the bunker’s garage. You’re slow to get out, stretching every one of your stiff, sore muscles as you do. You toss the empty packet and bottle in the bin as you pass, moving to your and Dean’s room. You almost stop a door short debating whether to sleep alone. But you can’t pass up the comfort of having the older hunter beside you, even if he refuses to cuddle. When he joins you in your room moments later the tension in the air is thick. You can tell there’s so much he wants to say but like you, he’s too scared to open his mouth.

You turn to grab one of his flannels and a clean pair of underwear from the drawers when he finally breaks the silence. “Please, just tell me where I went wrong?”

Your heart sinks at his words. Dropping the clothes you rush over to him with tears in your eyes, taking his hands in yours. “Nothing, nowhere, baby.”

“Really? Because you can barely look at me anymore, let alone talk to me. I had to all but beg you to touch me. I know I suck at the dating thing, and I’m obviously even worse at the fiancé thing. Just tell me what to do. Please … please just tell me how to fix it.”

Tears fall down both of your cheeks. “You can’t …” As the words leave your mouth he tries to pull away but you tighten your grip. “You can’t fix it because you didn’t break us … I did. I’ve been so scared of losing you that I didn’t realise how much I’ve actually been pushing you away.” You lead him towards the bed urging him to take a seat beside you. You turn to face him as he follows you, never letting his hands out of yours. 

Unsure how else to fix the rift growing between you, you breathe out, “I think I’m pregnant.”

Dean looks up at you but stays silent, giving you a chance to elaborate. 

“I’ve had this feeling for a while now, and then the morning sickness started, and the mood swings … and I am just so scared, Dean. I don’t know what to do. I’m not ready and I don’t want to trap you into something you don’t want …”

“Trap me?” He can’t stop himself from pulling you into his lap, his hands wiping away your tears as they continue to fall. “No, sweetheart, a baby would be a blessing, not a trap. Sure it’s sooner than expected but it’s on the path we planned to follow eventually anyway, right?”

“I don’t even know for sure. I mean, I haven’t tested or anything, it’s just a hunch.”

“Well, how about we do that first thing in the morning then? Once we know for sure, we can start moving forward accordingly.”

You nod and Dean picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. He sits you on the counter while he moves swiftly around the room running a bubble bath. Once the tub’s almost full he helps you strip before setting you down in the water. You watch as he strips himself and slots in behind you. You just sit there enjoying the warmth and comfort in silence for a while, until Dean breaks it quietly.

“How long have you known, or suspected?”

“A few weeks.”

“Before I proposed?”

You nod as you play with his fingers under the water.

“We talked for hours that night, we even talked about children and our future. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I … I guess I was just scared. I didn’t know for sure, I still don’t. And I was really enjoying the night and your company and I didn’t want to ruin it. In hindsight, if I did, you probably wouldn’t have proposed.”

“I disagree. I think I would have. It just would have given me even more reason to.”

“You would have done it for the wrong reasons. You would have done it out of duty.”

“I would have done it because I love you. The same reason I did do it.”

You turn around in the tub, straddling your fiancé’s sexy bow legs. You bring your lips to his as your hands roam his body from his head to his waist, his hands doing the same to you. You make out until the water starts to feel cold against your skin, and then Dean lifts you out and carries you back to bed, your legs wrapped around his waist. Your bodies barely separate as he lays you both down on the soft memory foam mattress. His lips start to explore your neck searching for your sweet spot as you grind your hips against him. When he sucks the skin right below your ear you let out a moan, causing him to suck harder and rut his hips against yours.

He whispers a groan by your ear, “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed this. You’re so perfect.”

He continues his journey down your body, leaving wet kisses along the way: over your chest, paying special attention to your tender breasts before moving down your stomach and hips, he skips over the place you want the most and trails down the inside of your thighs, calves and even your feet before moving back up to your throbbing core. He leaves a few tender kisses there before moving back to your lips. 

“I love every inch of your body, you’re so beautiful and perfect. And you taste amazing! I still can’t believe you’re mine,” he says as he reaches for the nightstand drawer blindly. You run your hand along his arm bringing it back to your body.

“I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that. I just want to feel all of you tonight, Dean. I need to feel you.”

He leans down and catches your lips in a deep kiss and he reaches down and lines himself up and smoothly enters you in one move. You let out a low moan against each other’s lips as he starts to move. You both know this won’t last long; it’s been too long. 

It’s not like anything you’ve ever shared before: it’s slow and tender and each movement is filled with all the love and devotion you feel for each other. You’ve never felt so in love or connected to the man above you. 

After a while, his movements start to stutter. “Come on, baby, I need you to cum with me.”

You let go at his words, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you as he rides you through it before joining you. You’re not used to the sensation of him exploding inside you like this, the only other time it’s ever happened you were too drunk to remember it, but you know you’ll never forget tonight. When his hips come to a stop he rolls you both over, laying you on his chest as you catch your breath. Feeling fully content you drift off to sleep in his arms.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You wake up naked in Dean’s arms. You glance up at his sleeping features as you reminisce on the passionate night you shared. And for the first time in years, you actually let yourself believe that everything is gonna be alright. No matter what curve balls life throws at you, you know you and Dean will catch them and ride them out together. 

After a while, you start to leave kisses along his chest causing him to stir. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says without opening his eyes. “Are you angling for a round two? Or are you gonna let me take you out for breakfast?”

“This feels like Deja Vu… except this time the answer is yes.”

“To which option?”

“Both?”

“That’s the perfect answer, let’s take a shower and then we can head out.”

“Perfect.”

Dean kisses the top of your head before tilting your face so your lips meet his. He lifts you swiftly, his lips barely leaving yours as he carries you into the shower, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308

[sharkgirldick]

kittyboy wants to spend the whole day naked, with a plug in that has a weight, so everytime kitty moves it makes his tiny kitty brain so empty with pleasure. you of course get free use of kittyboy, to kiss him, bite him, hug him, frot him, cuddle him, breed him, play with his kitty parts, lick him, and whisper in his ear as much as you want, but kitty can’t cum or touch himself or remove the plug without your permission. you watch as kittyboy spends the day getting more and more pent up, grinding against anything and everything, until he starts holding you and humping against you as much as he wants. you indulge in this, and kiss his little kittyboy neck and let him suck your pretty shark titties. you wait until he gets close, only to remind kitty that the day’s not over, and that he still can’t cum yet, but it’s too late. kitty is already over the edge, and lets out all the feelings that have been bottling up over the past day. he starts relaxing in your chest, curled up into you, until he feels a sharp sting against his kitty butt. SMACK. you had to punish kittyboy, of course, for breaking the rules. SMACK. kittyboy starts whimpering and mewling into your chest, but that doesnt stop you. SMACK. kittyboy starts getting excited again. the little kitten in your arms starts dripping and getting close, whimpers and mewls becoming moans and screams. but nobody can hear them, because kittyboy is too busy being stuck in your chest. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. he gets on the edge. you stop. kitten wonders what’s happening, only for you to start removing the plug. kitten feels a large, throbbing, pulsing, virile rod against his little boihole, one he knows all too well. one that kitten knows will devour him. one that kitty knows will be used to fill him with a litter of little sharkpups and kittens. one that will keep going until every last drop of girlseed is inside kitty’s little adorable boihole. you lift up kitty and take him to the bedroom, but you can’t even wait, and you fuck him as you carry him then and there. then you get an idea. if your naughty little kittyboy wants to cum so much, you’ll let him. matter of fact, you’ll need a whole day to make up for it. you tie kittyboy to yourself, head in your boobs, girlcock in his boihole. starting tonight, you use kittyboy as much as you want, and he can cum too. you let him mark your tummy with his boysmell, while you fill him with your litter. kittyboy’s little kitty brain is fried, and can only mewl and whine as you pet him and fuck him, and you smile, knowing that you completely and utterly devoured that precious little kittyboy.

umm hii :3 kittyboy was very pent up and got carried away hope you enjoy this >///< and if you want to keep this one in ur inbox too pls post an image so kitty can have it for reasons >///<

Kittyboy, I just like you to know that this got me extremely hard, which is a very difficult task these days.

You need to come over to my house so I can do this to you. Let me plug you and turn you into my perfect little toy.

[carideatheecreative]

yay

waahoo! *jumps like mario*

[tropes-and-tales]

Hiiiii! I would like to request <<person b trying to cook person a's fav dish>> with Max Lord please. I can see that flashback scene in WW84 with his business Blacc Gold Cooperative, trying to make everything perfect. Get well soon! Thanks so much!!

A rare Max Lord ask in the inbox!

Maxwell Lord knows he’s worthless.

He hides those feelings underneath a glib façade, a blustering bravado.  He talks a good game.  He schmoozes with the best of them.  And yet, when he goes to sleep each night, he knows that he’s nobody special.  He’s nobody of substance; he’s just an empty shell in a slick suit.

And if he was nobody before the Dreamstone, before Black Gold went bankrupt, then what is he now?  

He’s less than nobody now.

He lives in a shitty apartment in Baltimore, and he works a shitty job in a grey cubicle.  He sees his son every other weekend.  His nice cars, his private plane, his fancy suits and giant mansion?  All gone.  

Despite it all, he found you:  his neighbor in his shitty apartment complex, a sweet, gorgeous woman who teaches at the nearby university.  You know who he is, what he’s done…and you still seem to like him.  You haven’t broken up with him yet.

Which is why he’s struggling right now.  It’s your birthday, and the old Max would have taken you on a shopping trip in New York, or flown you to Paris, or taken you out to the most exclusive restaurant on the eastern seaboard.  New Max doesn’t have that option, so he tries his best and plans an entire evening in.

The plan?  Cook your favorite meal.  Use your favorite flowers as a centerpiece.  Open a bottle of your favorite wine.  Then watch your favorite movie on VHS before taking you to bed.  It’s all supposed to be a surprise, but when you walk through the door that evening, the plan is in shambles.

Your favorite meal is a charred mess smoking in the sink.  Your favorite flowers—wildflowers he picked along the river—are limp and already shedding pedals.  He punched through the cork in your wine and ruined it.  And Blockbuster was out of their only copy of “All About Eve.”

When you walk through the door that evening, you find Max sitting on the floor of your kitchen, his head in his hands.

He waits for you to break up with him.  He waits for the words—stupid, worthless—to fall from your mouth the way they’ve fallen from everyone else’s mouths.  He waits for cruel laughter at his pitiful attempt to make your birthday special despite having no money, no talent.  It’s just like those pathetic early days with Black Gold, how hopeful and naïve he’d been, how stupid—

“This seat taken?” you ask quietly, and you don’t wait for him to respond before you sink down onto the linoleum beside him.  

“Rough day?” you ask, and your voice is still quiet, but you’re right beside him.  A beat later and he feels it—your hand brushing his hair away from his face, then a gentle press of your lips to his temple.  Then you settle your head against his shoulder and just…sit.  You just sit with him, neither of you speaking for a long moment.

“Just wanted to make it special for you,” he finally says, and his voice is rough with emotion.  Frustration. Sadness.  Everything bubbling up at once, everything he’s pushed down…it’s all threatening to come out now.

“Who says it isn’t special?”

He scoffs, gestures helplessly around you.  

“You know, my last boyfriend never even thought to make me dinner for my birthday.  So, if I say it’s the thought that counts…that’s the truth,” you tell him.

“The thought means nothing,” he snaps.  “It’s action, results…thoughts are worthless.”

This should make you break up with him too:  him getting snippy and edging against an argument.  But you don’t rise to the bait.  You settle your head against his shoulder again, and you tell him a story about your childhood, how your mother had been in the hospital for your eighth birthday, how your father was away for work.  How it seemed that no one remembered your special day until a girl in your neighborhood—older than you, far cooler than you—saw you crying on your front porch.

“She was a high schooler,” you explain softly.  “Literally the coolest girl in the neighborhood.  She dressed like Stevie Nicks and had a voice like Blondie.  I was just a little dork that no one noticed, but she did.  She was driving past in her beat-to-shit Beetle and saw me sitting alone and crying, and you know what she did?”

“What?”

“She asked me what was wrong, and when I told her, she drove away.”

Max scoffs again.  That sounds right to him.  The world is a cruel place.

“And then ten minutes later, she came back,” you continue.  “She went to Dairy Queen and got me a banana split.  Remember those giant banana splits they used to make?  She bought one and sat on my porch and we ate it together.  She didn’t have a candle, so she held up her lighter and made me blow it out.”

“That’s really sweet,” he tells you, begrudgingly.

You shift your head from his shoulder and you reach out, grip his chin lightly.  You turn his face and make him look at you.

“It’s the thought that counts, Max,” you say, and your voice is more stern now.  “Being seen?  Being remembered?  That means more than any gift or whatever is smoldering right now in the sink.” 

“It’s a soufflé.  Or was.”  As bad as he feels, he can’t help but smile at you.

You roll your eyes.  “Why on earth would you try to bake me a soufflé?  You can barely boil water.”

“I thought—” he starts, and then he catches himself, realizes what he’s saying.  You catch it too, and you grin back at him.

“See?  You thought of me.  You see me.  That’s all I need from you.”

He wants to say that you deserve so much more—diamonds and designer dresses and expensive purses and luxurious trips to exotic locales—but you don’t let him reply.  You lean forward and kiss him, and the feeling of your mouth on his does what it always does:  it pushes the anxious thoughts away, makes the self-doubt melt under the ardor with which you kiss him.

“Now c’mon,” you say once you break away from him.  You stand up and offer your hand, and you help him stand too.  “There’s a Dairy Queen three blocks from here.  You’re buying me a banana split, and you’re gonna eat the pineapple bits because I hate pineapple.”

[minisugakoobies]

New Year, New You | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, non-Idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, making out, neck marking, mentions of cumming, multiple references to sex, reader is several years older than Jungkook, Jungkook is basically temptation itself, sorry this got angsty but reader has a lot on her mind

Word Count: 1.8K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: New year, new you. Except here you are, minutes after midnight, already falling back into old habits. You just can't resist.

A/N: Thank you for sending in a request, anon! Once again, I failed to keep it to a drabble, but I hope you enjoy. 💕

Yes, it's July, and yes, I'm out here writing NYE fics. That's just how it goes sometimes.

A special thank you to @minttangerines for being my rock, the Yoongi to my Tae, and encouraging me to embrace the angst. I still don't know where it's coming from, but I guess it's here to stay. 💜

As always, I'd love to hear what you think! My inbox is open 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

A cheer goes up from the living room. As you raise your champagne flute to your lips in celebration, you realize he's watching you again.

You knew this would happen. It's how it always goes at these events. Dark eyes inevitably finding yours across the room. Lips quirking, a half smirk, teasing you. Knowing you know what's on his mind. Because it's usually what's on yours.

Usually. But not tonight.

You take advantage of the crush of partygoers around you drunkenly butchering "Auld Lang Syne," and quickly disappear into the swaying crowd. The Jeons really outdid themselves tonight. It seems like half the town has gathered in their home to greet the new year.

Wandering into the kitchen, you spot your mother and Mrs. Jeon in deep conversation. Your mother sees you approaching and pulls you in for a big hug. "Happy New Year, darling!"

"Happy New Year," you mumble into her shoulder, and then it's Mrs. Jeon's turn to crush you close.

"We were just talking about our resolutions, dear," Mrs. Jeon informs you. "Do you have one?"

"I know what it should be," your mother interjects. "To give her wonderful mother her first grandbaby!"

The two women titter, the countless glasses of wine they've imbibed loosening their lips, and they begin to talk about you as if you're not there, lamenting how you just can't find the right man, how all your friends are happily married and popping out babies left and right while you just can't seem to catch up.

You just nod and smile. It's how it always goes at these events.

Mrs. Jeon picks up a magnum of wine to refill her goblet, gives it a shake, then tips it over. Empty. She shoots you a look. "Would you be a dear and bring us some more wine? There's another bottle of this vintage downstairs, back in - oh, you know where to look!"

You nod, already moving, opening the basement door, pretending you don't hear your mother whisper, "Don't worry, she can't find a man but she can find the wine!" to your retreating back.

Tucked into the far corner of the Jeons's basement is an impressive wine cellar, with hundreds of bottles displayed on shelves that stretch from floor to ceiling. Instead of grabbing a bottle and heading back to the kitchen, you linger, tracing your fingertips over the racks, lost in thought. 

“You’re missing the party, Noona.”

Of course he found you. You turn around. “Just taking a little break, Jungkook-ah.”

He strolls out of the shadows wearing his usual grin. The revelry of the night is evident in his mussed hair and flushed cheeks. His black shirt is slightly unbuttoned, tie long gone, sleeves rolled up. Tattoos dance down his right forearm, piercings glitter in his eyebrow and lip. 

He’s temptation itself. It’s how he always is at these events. 

“I saw you during the countdown. No midnight kiss?” He’s still moving towards you, hands tucked into his pockets, crowding you into the tall shelves. 

“Didn’t have anyone who wanted to.” 

Even though he’s several years younger, he has an inch or two on you, head tipping down to gaze into your eyes. It’s strange how he’s always been able to make you feel so small like this. Delicate. 

Needy.

“You know that’s not true,” he murmurs, thin fingers finding your hip, drawing circles there. His other hand tilts your chin. “All you ever have to do is ask.” 

“I’ll remember that,” you begin, but the rest of your sentence is lost to Jungkook’s lips. He kisses you gently, pressing you into the rack behind you. Cold glass bites your skin where your dress fails to cover you. 

His arms encircle your back, holding you tight. Your hands clutch at his broad chest, his wide shoulders, wrap themselves in his long hair, seeking purchase to steady you as the kiss deepens. When his hand slips down to your thigh, lifting it, opening you up to his straying fingers, you push him away. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper, chest heaving. “Stop. We can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” He drops his mouth to your ear, nuzzles the sensitive skin behind it. It’s your weak spot. A fact he knows all too well, as he shamelessly attempts to exploit it. 

“We can’t do this, with everyone upstairs…”

The smirk on his face electrifies you more than you’d like to admit. “Why not? That’s never stopped us before.” 

That was the old you. The one you left behind when the clock struck midnight. 

He’s moved on to your neck now, insistent nips urging you to reconsider. “Are you worried because they’re waiting for you? They’re already drunk. They won’t notice if you’re gone for ten minutes.” You moan as he sucks on a particularly sharp bite, and he rolls his hips into yours, letting you feel how hard he is. “I can make you come in five, though.” 

From anyone else, that would sound like a laughable brag. From him, it’s merely the truth. 

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I’m starting over today.” You untangle yourself from his embrace and turn your back to him, scanning the collection behind you for the vintage his mother requested.

“Ah. New year, new you?”

“Something like that.”

“Too bad. I like old you.”

You locate the desired bottle and pull it from the shelf. “Yeah, well, say goodbye, because she’s gone now.” When you spin around again, there’s a familiar glint in his brown eyes. A spark waiting to ignite.

“That’s a shame. I was hoping she’d come home with me tonight.”

Old you definitely would have. 

“Sorry, Kook-ah. It’s time for a change.” 

You take a step forward, but he doesn’t move. Frowning, you nudge him with your elbow, but he won’t budge. You know better than to bother pushing his stubborn ass out of the way. He might not be hulking, but he’s very solidly built. “C’mon, Jungkook, let me by!” 

Instead, he pries the wine from your hands, gingerly placing it back on the rack. He cages you in, one hand on either side of your head as you peer up at him in shock. “Noona. I know why you’re doing this.”

He was always too perceptive for your liking. “You don’t know, Jungkook. You can’t. You’re still young.” He doesn’t have to worry about the things you do. Not yet. 

He winces slightly, but sets his mouth in a firm line. “I’m not that much younger than you.” 

“Six years - “ 

“Is nothing, a - a blip in the entirety of existence, Noona,” he declares emphatically. You don’t respond, your heart nearly beating out of your chest. The intense look on his face isn’t entirely new to you. You’ve spent many nights underneath him, watching that same expression as he brings you to the edge over and over. But you’ve never seen it in this light. 

It takes your breath away.

Jungkook shakes his head. “You always talk like there’s some giant gap between us. Not just age, but everything. Like we live in different worlds. But I understand more than you think. I know what everyone upstairs expects of you.” He sighs, eyes softening as he smiles sadly at you. “I just don’t know why that means things have to change.” 

Your hands flex at your sides, fingers curling into fists. “If you know what’s expected of me, then you should understand. I’m getting older, Jungkook. The pressure is on and it’s getting worse day by day. So I need to start over, as someone else. Because no one wants me as I am. As I’ve been.” 

Something flashes across Jungkook’s face, something dark that makes your pounding heart stutter, and as his left hand cups your cheek, you can’t look away. “You know that’s not true.”

“Kook-ah - “

“I know you don’t take me seriously. That’s why you’ve always treated this,” he gestures between you, “this thing we have as some sort of fling. And I’ve been okay with it. Because even if I only get to be with you for a night, at least I still get to be with you.” 

His words hang in the air as he pauses for breath. Gently, you press your palms to his chest. His heart is hammering just as fast as your own, the rhythm speaking just as loud as words. 

“Kook-ah, since I was little, I’ve known the path my life would take. Every milestone laid out in a perfect line, point to point. I can’t stray from the path for things like ‘want.’”

“Why not?” His question catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Why can’t you? It’s your life, Noona. You should be able to live it as you choose. And do whatever you want.” 

You scoff. “You make it sound so easy.” You dig into the soft silk of his shirt, twisting the fabric between your fingertips. 

“It could be. We could do it together.” He smiles as you look up at him in surprise. “We could just say fuck it and do what we want. Which for me, would be to be with you.” He peels your hand from his shirt. You stare at the way his inked fingers entwine with yours. “What do you want, Noona?” 

What you need is to think. But that’s not the question. 

There’s too much to consider. How can you possibly decide anything so important, anything potentially life-altering, while standing in a basement at a New Year’s Eve party? So you narrow it down. Right here, right now, with Jungkook’s hand in yours, his bright eyes shining as he waits for your answer, what do you want most? 

That’s easy.

Brushing your thumb across his cheek, you tell him, “What I want is for you to take me home.” 

His eyes widen for a second before he snaps into action, covering your body with his own as he kisses you fervently.  When he pulls away, he finally moves aside to let you pass. “You go first. Say your goodbyes. I’ll leave in a few minutes and meet you at your place.” 

Grabbing the wine again, you take a few steps, then stop. New year, new you. 

Maybe new you can have him for real. 

You hold out your hand. 

Jungkook glances from your hand to your face and back. Then he grins, strong fingers enveloping your own, and follows you up the stairs. There will be questions, and comments, and so much more to deal with tomorrow. But tonight, you don’t care. 

The warmth radiating from Jungkook as he squeezes your hand flows through you, driving all your fears away. 

It’s how it always goes.  

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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[reverie-starlight]

hello, hope ure doing well :D may i please request an akaashi fic where the reader is going thru grief of the passing of their mother and can’t focus in class leading onto low grades for their semester exam making them feel even worse bc that’s not what their mom wants (reader always gets good grades) and reader feels like a disappointment and just breaks down one day?? i’m so sorry if this is too specific, just finding it hard to cope and no one understands!! thank you so much <3

ANON I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, but I have literally been dealing with exactly what you requested (still am, but now I'm on reading week so :P). And since I'm literally writing this immediately after a rough grieving session of my own, I feel like now I can tackle it and do it justice. bc... as someone who also used to get good grades before my mom died then started almost failing everything after... this hits hard!!

And just another little side note, I'm so sorry for your loss. if you ever want to reach out to talk to someone who's going through the same thing, my inbox or my messages are always open <3 dead mom club solidarity !! thank you so much for your request, anon and again i'm SO sorry this took so long.

{Grades and Grief- Akaashi}

warnings: death of mother (mentioned and focused on, no descriptive details), depression/grief, anxiety, this counts as hurt/comfort right? fluff and lots of support from akaashi. university life needs to be a warning tbh so its here.

gn!reader, timeskip!akaashi (except it's more like, in between the time skip cause it's university)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your heart dropped as you opened your emails and saw that the grades for your midterms had been posted.

on one hand you were hopeful. maybe you did better than you expected? maybe you would open up the online portal and see that you passed. just a pass, that's all you were hoping for at this point.

you ignored the way your stomach twisted at the fact that all you wanted was a pass. you used to be at the top of your classes in high school, and now you were barely scraping by.

but deep down you knew it would be a failing grade. it was getting impossible to hope for anything better. you could barely find it in yourself to go to class some days, let alone actually study. it required more brain power than you could expend.

and on the days you did go to class, you felt like a zombie. mindless, lethargic, stupid. definitely not in any condition to take notes that were good enough to aid you.

you opened the email and sighed. another fail. you tried to convince yourself that you'd do better next time. that you'd start studying earlier, you'd go to your professor's office hours and ask questions, you'd do the work that needed to be done.

your future was at stake, why couldn't you just put in the the work-

this was one test in one class. there would be other chances to raise your grade.

breathe.

how many times can I keep telling myself that before I stop believing it? before it becomes an empty promise?

breathe. you'll be okay.

it's self-sabotage, how much longer can I just stay like this? mom wouldn't have wanted this for me. she'd want to see me succeed. I'm such a-

breathe.

you tried to do exactly what your boyfriend kept telling you: be kind to yourself. "you're grieving the death of someone who was supposed to be there your whole life. the one person you never thought would leave. it's completely natural to be struggling with your mental health right now. don't be mean to yourself." is what he had said. "take the time to feel what you need to feel, bottling it up will only make it worse."

you sighed and curled yourself into a ball on your bed. you were finding it hard to breathe.

feel what you need to feel, huh? when was the last time you had a good cry session, anyway?

the tightness in your chest only grew as you started to tear up. you tried to keep the thoughts of being a disappointment to your mother away, but you glanced at the picture of her smiling face on your nightstand and winced.

if she could see you know, you wondered if she would be angry or comforting.

grieving was one of the loneliest experiences anyone could ever deal with. unique to each person, not one person to share the same memories with, becoming acutely aware of your own timeline. and not something that happens often to young people. none of your friends understood. they could try, but they'd never get it. and sometimes you felt like they didn't even care enough to attempt it.

you've never felt more alone and you've never been more aware of it.

"and if you ever need comfort, I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'm always here to listen. it's never going to be too much."

so instead of dwelling on it, you picked up your phone and called the one person who would.

it took three rings for akaashi to pick up.

the smile in his voice immediately soothed you. anything related to your boyfriend felt like a blanket to you. comforting, warm and soft. "hello, my love, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

you sniffed and tried to get some words out without choking up. "keiji," his name came out pitifully.

"oh sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"can you come over, please? I need you."

"of course I can, I'll be right there. I love you."

"I love you, please be careful."

the second you hung up the phone, you let more tears fall freely. you didn't even know what you were crying about anymore, there were so many emotions mixed up inside you. but for some reason you didn't want to fully let loose while you were alone. you wanted comfort when you were at your most vulnerable- comfort and validation you weren't capable of giving yourself in that moment. there was only one other person who could give you that now.

while you waited, you thought more about your mother. it really wasn't fair that you had to lose her, why did she have to go? it didn't matter how long it had been since she passed, this type of pain will be everlasting, you thought.

ten minutes later you heard the door to your apartment unlock and you got up to greet him. he had a bunch of bags in his arms that he set down the minute he saw you walk out of your room.

he held his arms open and you crashed into him immediately. finally you felt safe enough to let the dam break. akaashi shushed you as you sobbed into his chest, rubbing your back gently and whispering soft affirmations into your ears.

"what happened, my love?"

"I- I failed another test," you hiccupped. "and I don't know what to do to help myself get out of this hole."

"oh dear... it's going to be okay."

he tenderly picked you up and carried you to the bedroom and you continued to cry into his shoulder. his heart broke at the sound of your whimpers.

once you were both settled comfortably on your bed, you took one of his hands and played with his fingers. "keiji, am I a disappointment?"

he shook his head before you could even finish speaking. "never."

"I just feel like I'm letting so many people down, myself included, but mainly my mom... her one request throughout my whole life was that I do my best in school. and now I'm failing and I can't help but think-" your voice cracked and he cupped your cheek with his other hand.

"baby, look at me. you are not a disappointment, okay? you are so far from that ever even being a possibility. and she would be so proud of you."

you looked up at him and your eyes widened. "but I'm not living up to her expectations-"

"you're doing your best. she would understand that."

"I'm not, though!" a flash of red hot anger ran through you. "I'm not doing my best! If I were doing my best, I'd be passing. I'd be studying, paying attention in my classes and not just staying in bed. not just staring at the ceiling and dissociating for hours when I need to be working on assignments. I'm not doing my best and I don't know how to fix it!" instead of getting upset at you for blowing up, he just listened to what you were saying.

as you got up to pace the room, you kept ranting. "I know something needs to change, I can't keep going on like this, but it's like I'm stuck, keiji, I don't know what to do and I'm so angry. and I'm tired, exhausted, actually. I hate this, I feel useless. I'm in limbo. I don't know why I can't force myself to change, but I'm absolutely not doing my best."

true anger wasn't an emotion you felt often before your mom died, but now you were well acquainted with it. you thanked your lucky stars you scored a partner as patient as akaashi.

"have you considered that you're doing the best with what you have right now?"

you paused and looked at him. "what?"

he shifted and took your hand. "my love, you've been through something extremely traumatic. you've told me before that you've been in survival mode for a very long time now. that's not your fault. you can't control it on your own. keeping that in mind, you absolutely are doing your best. you get up and keep going everyday. even though it scares you. you're still kind, and actively striving to be a good person. this rough patch is temporary, everything will be okay. she would be proud of you for everything you've overcome so far."

you bit your lip and looked down, shaking your head. "what if this is 'my best' forever? what if I'm not capable of changing anymore?"

"anyone is capable of change at any given time, my love, you're the one who told me that. I promise you, everything will be okay. and besides," he tugged your hand to guide you onto his lap. "the willingness to change and not just refuse to heal is there."

"but what if it takes too long?"

"it won't. there's no such thing as too long, everyone's healing process is different. and you have me by your side as well, ready to help however you need." he finished his speech with a kiss to your nose and you smiled a bit.

"...thank you, keiji. I love you."

"I love you too, dear. I'll be here as long as you'll let me."

"forever, if that's alright with you?"

"of course, my love." his arms tightened around you.

"can we stay like this for a bit longer?"

"mhmm, you've had a big day. we can cuddle for as long as you need."

you buried your face into the crook of his neck and planted a few kisses. "I love you,"

he kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart."

you repeated the phrase over and over again, smiling a little wider each time he returned the sentiment with a kiss to your face.

"can I ask you one more thing?"

"go ahead."

"are you proud of me despite me failing so much this year?"

"I'm so proud of you, baby. nothing would ever change that."

looking up at him with wide eyes, he just smiled and leaned down to kiss your lips. "so proud of my baby. always trying their best. so sweet, so kind, just needs to be loved on a little extra sometimes. all mine."

a happy sigh was released, and with it, most of the tension in your body, so you rested against your boyfriend. "all yours."

you felt a lot better now. not perfect, and still uncertain about some things, but at least with akaashi there you knew you didn't have to go it alone.

~BONUS SCENE~

after a while of cuddling in bed, a thought hit you and you shot up, obviously in a clearer, less fuzzy state of mind.

"love, what were all those bags you had earlier? did you stop somewhere before you came?"

his eyes widened a bit and a blush spread over his cheeks. "yes and no. uh... before you called, I was actually picking us up some food and other things for a stay-in date night. I was planning on surprising you today."

you could have burst into tears again at how cute his confession was. "keijiiiii, you're so sweet!" you ran your fingers through his hair a bit and he melted into the touch. "what a sweet boy I have," you cooed.

he made a noise of protest and you giggled. "can we go see what you bought? please?"

he nodded and smiled at you. he was so glad you seemed to be in better spirits now. there wasn't anything akaashi keiji wouldn't do to see you happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this was literally just me projecting holy shit. that was really a look inside my brain, wow. but anon I hope you enjoyed it!! and I hope it was worth the wait, I'm so so so so sorry it took so long. this is the first thing I've managed to write in a while (and I wrote this all in one sitting!!). But the ask was very therapeutic for me, I really need this type of validation :'D

[crossyourheartspreparetodie]

Cross is the kind of parent who will moan about how much of a handful his kid is during summer break and how much he expects the time for Allen to go back to school, but when Allen is in school he will pop a wine open at 10 am and think to himself that the house is so damn quiet and empty that it lost its sense of home

Sorry I dead ass forgot this was in my inbox Mun has COVID brain so bad.

All I can think of is this...

Anita: *watching Cross sitting by the door with his bottle of wine* Honey, what are you doing?

Cross: Waiting for my little buddy to come back... *all mopey*

Anita: I know what will make it go faster...

Cross: *looks over at her all slouched and depressed* Really...? What?

Anita: *takes off her shirt*

Cross: 😳....😈

[stiles-banshees]

Good Things Come in Threes: Prologue

Summary: Growing up on the East Coast her whole life, Summer Hastings always longed for more. The niece of Penny Benjamin would often fly out to the West Coast every summer to visit her aunt and cousin. Summer didn't realize how much her life would change that night she called her aunt to book her plane ticket when she was 18 years old when a certain Jake Seresin answered the phone.

Series Masterlist

Next Chapter

Warnings: 18+, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Summer 2013

The first time Summer Hastings met Jake Seresin was an accident. The eighteen-year-old was almost finished with her first year of college and needed to confirm summer plans with her aunt Penny. For as long as Summer could remember, she’d visit her aunt in California during every holiday break. It’s almost as if holidays were theirs. Summer would typically FaceTime with Penny to see when would be the most beneficial for her to visit. Penny answered her phone on the fourth ring, and a smile graced her lips once her niece popped up on her screen.

“If it isn’t our little teacher in training.” Penny laughed as she angled her phone against the bar to help any other customers that might come in.

“Hi, aunt Pen!” Summer smiled, the worries of studying for finals leaving her brain.

“Is it already time to book your ticket?” Her aunt asked while she filled an empty bowl with peanuts.

“Sure is. How does the first weekend of May sound?” Summer eyed her calendar, knowing she’d be staying the whole holiday, only to go home to the east coast a week before her next semester started.

“Honey, you realize that’s next week, right?” Penny asked, collecting a few empty beer bottles abandoned on the bartop.

“I do,” Summer nodded, “But dad’s still on my case about going to school to become a teacher, and I really don’t feel like dealing with that for the next three months.”

“You only have to deal with it for four more years, kid, then you’ll be out here with me,” Penny assured her niece.

Summer opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud crash on Penny’s end. 

“What the hell, Coyote?” Penny rushed away from the screen, abandoning the conversation with her niece entirely.

Summer knows all about The Hard Deck and its customers. About 99% of anyone that frequents the bar tends to be in the Navy. Penny rushing off as she yells someone’s callsign is something that Summer is now used to at her age.

“Pen, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I think I’ll book the ticket for that Friday.” The younger woman called out in hopes her aunt would hear her. 

She booked her plane ticket, the time stamp of her flight’s arrival flashing on her laptop screen. A confirmation email also made its way to her inbox.

“Hey, Penny?” Summer called again.

“Penny’s a little tied up, sweetheart.” Summer heard a deep voice respond before she saw a hand reach for her aunt’s phone.

Her view of alcohol bottles is soon replaced by a man who looks a few years older than her. Her eyes caught sight of his light brown hair and green eyes before the camera panned over to the mess that ‘Coyote’ had made. Summer winced as she looked at the broken glass bottles littering the bar floor.

The man panned the camera back to himself before he asked, “Do you want me to pass anything along?”

“Can you just let her know Summer booked her plane ticket for next Friday, and she’ll need to be picked up from the airport around nine-thirty?” Summer smiled kindly at the stranger.

The man nodded, “I’m assuming you’re Summer?”

She nodded back, a slight blush making its way across her cheeks.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Summer. I’m Jake.” He-Jake grinned at her. “I’ll let her know.”

“Thank you, Jake.” She smiled again.

“See you in a week.” He replied, then the two waved at the phones in their hands before ending the call.

That night, Summer went to bed feeling the most excited she’s ever been, and Jake got an earful from Penny for talking to her niece.

Summer 2016

The first time Summer meets Hangman is a disaster. Turns out that Summer didn’t see Jake that next week. Or the week after that. In fact, it had been three whole years since Summer’s interaction with the attractive man that happened to be in her aunt’s bar. Summer had always dreamt about spending her twenty-first birthday with her aunt Penny. They would always talk about how they’d drink tequila lemonades and talk about boys as the sun would set on that day. 

The one thing the two hadn’t thought about was that Penny bought the bar at the beginning of the year. So, instead of drinking tequila lemonades, Summer was helping serve them. The Hard Deck was packed with naval aviators that had just completed a mission. A few men tried to woo Summer with some stories, but she decided to tune them out. Empty bottles littered the entire bar, leaving Summer wondering how much these people drank. Penny sent her off to clear up the empties while managing the bar. Summer started to grab the bottles that circled the pool tables first and dropped two of them when a body knocked into her.

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart.” The voice sounded familiar, but when Summer made eye contact with the man, she couldn’t place him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been paying more attention.” She looks at the man guiltily.

“Are you hurt at all?” The man looked her over, eyes briefly stopping at the hem of her sundress before making eye contact again.

“I’m good, just a little jumpy, I guess.” She laughed, embarrassed.

The man grinned at her, reaching his hand out. “Hangman,”

“Hastings! I know it's your twenty-first, but I need some help over here!” Penny yelled, efficiently interrupting the two.

“On it!” Summer yelled back.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Hangman said before pointing at the floor. “Don’t worry about those two. I’ll get them.”

“Thanks,” Summer responded, anxiously running a hand through her hair as she scoped for more empty bottles.

“I heard it’s your birthday.” He said, attempting to keep the conversation going with the beautiful girl in front of him.

She nodded, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“If you get a few drinks, just have Penny put ‘em on my tab.” He told her.

“Hastings!” Summer heard another female voice call to her before she could decline Hangman’s generosity.

“Oh my god, Nat!” Summer shrieked and ran toward her friend, forgetting about the attractive man by the pool tables.

“Of course, she’s friends with Phoenix.” Coyote laughed as he watched Summer jump into the other woman’s arms.

“Shut up,” Hangman groaned, “And pick those broken bottles up when you get a chance. You’re the reason why they ended up on the floor anyway.”

“I got her to talk to you, didn’t I?”

Summer 2019

“Summer, I love you, but why did you drive forty-one hours?” Amelia laughed, her cousin’s head resting on her folded arms sat atop the bar.

“Don’t judge me, Ames. My new life starts today. Or, at least, after the summer.” The now twenty-four-year-old groaned.

“Does my mom even know you’re here yet?” The sixteen-year-old asked.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t call or anything.” Summer tells her younger cousin.

“Mom! Summer’s here!” Amelia yells in the empty bar.

Seconds later, Penny appeared with a big grin on her face.

“There’s my girl.” She said with arms wide open for her niece.

“Penny, I love you, but can I have coffee first?” Summer asked.

Penny looked at the clock and noticed the bar would open in 30 minutes.

“Absolutely, Sum.” She rubbed her niece’s back before running to the kitchen to start a fresh pot.

“Alright, I’m going to my friend’s house for a bit. I’ll see you when you’re functioning, Summer.” Amelia patted her cousin’s head before heading into the kitchen to say goodbye to her mother. 

Twenty-five minutes later, Summer is found sipping coffee from her mug behind the bar as Penny unlocks the door for the night. A stream of people wearing khaki-colored uniforms file in, a few wearing casual attire mixed in the bunch. There’s a slight breeze throughout the bar as the door doesn’t stay closed for long. Summer crossed her legs, wishing her yellow sundress would bring her some type of warmth.

Penny had disappeared five minutes ago, excusing herself to talk to an old friend. Summer maneuvered her head, seeing more aviators before finally seeing Penny talking to none other than Maverick. Summer grinned to herself once she saw the older man’s cell phone sitting on the bar next to his glass.

That’s gonna burn a hole in his pocket. Summer winced.

Penny rang the bell, signaling that Maverick would have to pay for everyone’s first round for the night. Summer finished her coffee, then sat her mug on the counter behind her to scan the bar. The first person she recognized was Rooster, and she was sure she spotted him because of his outfit. She grew more excited when she saw him walk up to a group of people, and she totally knew the woman standing a few feet over.

Summer nudged her way through the crowded bar to make her way over to Phoenix. It took her a bit to walk the short distance; she was getting bumped into and stumbled every so often. When she reached her friend, the short woman wrapped her arms around her waist. Phoenix jumped but relaxed once she saw the dainty bracelet hanging from Summer’s wrist.

“Oh my god, my favorite season!” Phoenix turned to give her friend a proper hug.

The girls rocked back and forth in the hug, and Summer waved to the man quietly sitting on the stool when they made eye contact.

“What do we have here?” Summer heard a familiar voice and felt Phoenix tense in her arms. “If it ain’t Phoenix. And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone.”

Isn’t that the guy that caused that big mess a few years back? Summer wondered.

Phoenix pulled away from Summer before addressing the man she dubbed an imbecile. Summer bit her lip when she faced the rest of the aviators, remembering the man from the night of her twenty-first birthday. She remembers the broken bottles and adding three tequila lemonades to his tab.

“Fellas, Hastings, this here’s Bagman.” She said. 

“Hangman,” The familiar man responded, looking Summer over, noticing her just like she did him.

“Whatever,” The female fighter pilot shook her head. “You’re looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”

Summer couldn’t help widening her eyes at that statement. Yes, she knew that people died in this field of work. She didn’t think her friend would be so candid when talking about it.

“Stop,” Hangman replied as if he was honored that Phoenix remembered that in the first place.

“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War,” Phoenix said.

“Cold war.” Coyote corrected.

Summer suddenly felt cold; it was almost as if all the tension in this corner allowed the temperature to drop.

“Different war, same century.” One of Nat’s coworkers responded.

“Not this one.” The other followed up immediately.

“Who are your friends?” Coyote asked.

He’s kinda cute. Summer thought to herself.

“Payback,” Coworker number one answered.

“Fanboy,” Coworker number two replied.

“Hey, Coyote,” Phoenix made eye contact with the cute aviator.

Interesting. Summer thought, glancing between the two. She still felt Hangman’s eyes on her but decided to ignore them.

“Hey,” He replied.

“Who’s he?” Phoenix asked, subtly talking about the man Summer waved to earlier.

“Who’s who?” Coyote asked back.

Phoenix cast a glance over to the man sitting quietly.

“When did you get in?” Coyote addressed him.

“Oh, I-I’ve been here the whole time.” The man answered.

“Man’s a stealth pilot,” Hangman joked.

Summer cracked a small smile at that. Phoenix noticed, giving her a light pinch and a look to remind her friend that Hangman sucks.

“Literally,” Coyote joined in.

“Weapon’s system officer, actually,” The man replied sheepishly.

“With no sense of humor,” Hangman looked over to Summer as he said that. His eyes searched for any kind of reaction she could possibly give him.

“What do they call you?” Phoenix interrogated the man. 

Summer nudged her friend as a sign to chill out.

“Bob,” The man answered.

“No, your callsign,” Payback reiterated.

“Uh…Bob.” He laughed, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Bob. I don’t have a callsign, either,” Summer had been explaining, but then she saw Phoenix’s eyes on her. “Except I’m not in the Navy. Hi, I’m Summer.” She rushed out and then followed up with a shy wave.

She could’ve sworn she noticed Hangman sit up a little straighter when she introduced herself.

Maybe he remembers me, too. Summer thought to herself again.

“Bob Floyd, you’re my new backseater? From Lemoore?” Phoenix grilled Bob some more.

Summer mouthed to her friend that she was going to get a drink, walking off as Bob responded with a “Looks like it, yeah.”. 

Walking back to the bar, Summer made eye contact with Rooster. She waved to him, laughing as he waved back excitedly. She made her way behind the bar to make herself a drink before Penny stopped her.

“And what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” She teased her niece.

Maverick laughed at the interaction between the two women.

“I’m getting a drink.” Summer shrugged, running to the back to grab the better lemonade.

“Save some for Amelia, honey,” Penny begged when Summer made her way back up front. 

“Sure thing, auntie Pen.” Summer smiled as she made her drink, taking small sips to measure its strength.

“Hey, Summer!” She turned around to see Hangman leaning against the bar.

“I’m not working, Hangman. Ask Penny.” She waved him off, running the lemonade back to the kitchen before heading back to the group.

Hangman intercepted her right when she stepped down a level and dragged her out of the staff exit and onto the back deck.

“Hangman, what the hell?” Summer gasped once they were outside.

“Do you remember me?” He asked.

“You pulled me outside to ask if I remember you?” Summer cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“Hastings,” He rolled his eyes at her, expecting an answer.

“We met a few years ago…on my birthday,” Summer answered awkwardly.

“Do you have a sister?” Hangman asked yet another question.

“No. Why?” Summer was confused. She had no idea what was happening right now.

“When did you start coming to visit Penny?” He asked.

“My whole life. It became more frequent when I got to college. Why?” Summer started to feel a bit nervous. Not because Hangman made her nervous but because the whole situation was wracking her brain. 

“This might sound creepy, but you didn’t happen to FaceTime her a few years back and talk to a random guy, right?” Hangman stuffed his hands in his pockets with an almost hopeful look in his eyes.

“I did when I was like eighteen. I think that guy might be dead now, though.” Summer winced, remembering the stupid crush on the man she talked to six years ago.

“Dead?” Hangman asked with a smug look on his face.

“Don’t make fun of me. It’s very possible.” She took a nervous sip of her spiked lemonade.

“Unless you have a habit of talking to random men on your aunt’s phone, it was me.” He chuckled.

“There’s no way; he didn’t have a callsign. His name was-” Summer couldn’t finish her sentence before he interrupted her.

“Jake?” He still had that smug look on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re freaking me out.” Summer put her drink on the deck guardrail before crossing her arms.

“You were waiting for me.” He teased.

“I was not! I thought you were dead!” Summer shrieked.

“You thought I was cute!’ He kept teasing.

Summer leaned against the guardrail, groaning when she set her head in her hands.

“It’s all good, Sunshine. I’ve been waiting for us to be together for the past three years. That dress was something.” He walked over, nudging her shoulder with his elbow.

“Oh, you mean when Coyote bodychecked you into me on my birthday.” Summer lifted her head to glare at him.

“It worked; it got you to notice me.” Hangman-Jake-Whoever gloated.

Summer huffed before setting off to walk back into the bar. Jake follows behind quickly, grabbing her drink in the process.

“Nat! Bagman won’t stop flirting with me!” She called out to her friend.

“Ring the bell, Hastings!” Rooster laughed from his spot at the piano.

“Fuck off, Bradshaw,” Hangman said, grabbing a beer and immediately placing himself next to Summer as she sat with Phoenix, not planning to leave her side for the rest of the night.

-

Here is a link to my masterlist if you'd like to read any of my other writings or if you would like to send requests :)