#and there was no card in the mail as of this morning I checked

[pekasairroc]

My commuter card never processed for the month of May OR June. Never mailed. Never sent. They just switched over to a new system where they send you the monthly pass in the mail rather than you just using a special card to buy your own passes. I have a few hundred dollars on that account and am begging to get that refunded.

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

[highhhfiveee]

safety net (pornstar!mike schmidt x reader)

tags: fluff? angst? just exposition really. no mentions of porn or sex here! just mike being a hero and reader appreciating him errors in here as usual!

part two: 💸

you didn't really do dating.

you'd tried so many times before to no avail. things would start nicely, people making your laugh float into the air and your heart flutter, but it never got past that. anytime you start to think about these things seriously, the other party pulls away. you're always left in the dust, responsible for picking up the pieces of your heart, gluing them back together, and trying again.

it's exhausting and after your last failure, you're not sure you want to try again.

one chance encounter on a dating app changes your mind. you think it's so foolish how easily you fall into it, giggling and kicking your feet at yet another potential partner, but when your first date is coordinated successfully and the second and the third, you begin to feel safe enough to indulge.

for your fourth date, you've arrived at this fancy restaurant in the middle of the city. you're super done up, wearing a dress that you love but have to return in the morning and your tallest pair of heels. your hair is swept up just the way simon, your date, likes it. you never liked it this way, but he calls you "so beautiful" when he sees you like this, and it makes your blood rush in your ears so you wear it up any time you're around him.

simon was nice, but you didn't have much in common; he was a straight-edge tech guy. he went to bed at 10 every night and woke up at 6 every morning, planning his days out in five-minute increments (he'd excitedly showed you his planner and you had to pretend that you were very very interested 💔).

you, on the other hand, woke up at noon on days you didn't have to work, going to bed at 4 am the night before. you never knew what to do and your apartment was covered in sticky notes donning different tasks: "read book". "wash dishes". "mail off package".

you two managed nice, small talk-ish conversation and he made you feel pretty. the only thing you two had in common was your love for coffee.

you're seated at your table and all goes well up until you receive the check, although you're a little bored. you're picking at your dessert and wondering if the art on the walls is real as simon opens the billbook and slides a card in there.

"i have to go to the bathroom. be right back," he stands, craning his head down to place a kiss on your cheek, and then you're alone, finally tuning into the din of the restaurant. it's busier than you realized.

your waitress takes your bill and leaves to tender you out. simon is still using the bathroom, and at first, it's not worrying. you wouldn't be surprised if he got lost on the way there, but after ten minutes, you start to worry.

the waitress returns to your table and you think you're fine to leave, but she sets the billbook on the table, stating, "did you have another form of payment? it said this card was expired."

you shake your head, anxiously blinking your eyes. "expired?" you open the book to see the $400 total at the bottom of your receipt and simon's card tucked behind the plastic pouch. you take it out and inspect the expiration date. three years gone.

"i--i, uh," you begin to panic. you had no idea what to do. you didn't have $400 in your bank account, $405.72 less than that actually. you didn't have anyone to call to spot you; what normal person had a casual $400 to throw at a friend for dinner? if you called your mom, she would laugh over the receiver the whole time, hanging up on you.

the waitress is staring at you, expectantly, but you can't even meet her gaze. in your alarm, you scanned your eyes around the restaurant and caught simon, in his very noticeable purple suit jacket, speed-walking towards the entrance of the restaurant.

you shoot to your feet, taking off your heels, wrangling up your other belongings and dashing after him.

you hear the waitress shout, "ma'am!" behind you but there's no stopping you. what are you gonna do, pay for the meal?

you're pushing yourself in between other patrons, forgetting your manners. you're hyperfocused on simon, keeping track of his head bobbing through the throng of people.

he's made it outside just a little before you, using a brisk pace to walk down the sidewalk.

"simon!" you yell, watching him speed up a bit until he's a phantom around the corner. "simon!!!"

there are some stragglers outside, just a few eyes on the frantic girl holding her heels and screaming. you're sure they think you're drunk, but you don't care.

you scream simon's name one more time. it's shrill and blood-curdling and something you'd never expect to come out of you. you didn't get upset like this, and you know you're truly upset when you feel a tear hit your arm.

you rarely cried, but here you were, breaking down on the sidewalk outside one of the most expensive restaurants in the state. you take a despondent seat on a bench, trying to catch your breath and stop crying. you take your hair down childishly, and the thought of simon liking it sends you back into tears.

you're a blubbering, snot-covered mess when mike sees you. he's exiting the restaurant, asking for his car from valet when he notices you on the bench, staring blankly into the air.

you're beautiful, and he's unsure as to why you're sitting here in tears. no one else decides to check on you. he takes the initiative.

his hand reaches out to your shoulder and it makes you jump, shouting at him to back away from you. he holds up his hands, muttering, "hey, hey. i'm sorry, i don't want to hurt you. i just wanted to ask if you were okay."

you don't expect the voice that comes out of him. its suburban, syrupy tone doesn't quite match his look; his hair is freshly cut and it feels like there's not a single wrinkle in any of his clothes. they look quality, and expensive. the rings adorning most of his fingers give off the same vibe.

great. one of these guys.

"i'm fine," you snap, wiping at your congested nose with the back of your hand. "i don't need saving, especially not from a nice guy like you."

mike laughs, and you're embarrassed to admit to yourself that you like how it sounds.

"who said i was a nice guy? i just asked if you were okay." you shrink away, avoiding his eyes.

"it's not my fault that you give that off. sounds like a you problem."

mike doesn't stop talking to you, which is surprising. even with all the disrespect, he sits beside you and rummages along the inside of his jacket for something to give you.

you don't admit it, but you're thankful for the small plastic package of tissues. "everyone has problems. there seems to be one plaguing you right now," he leans into your shoulder, eyeing you intently. "wanna tell me what it is?"

you're still cleaning yourself up, taking another tissue out to wipe at your ruined makeup when the waitress marches out of the restaurant with two burly security guards behind her. she points to you with zeal, announcing, "that's her."

the security guards make their way over to you, disregarding mike as he asks, "woah, woah, what's going on?"

"this young lady tried to skip out on her bill." you shake your head irritably, standing to your feet. you're not even half the height of these dudes.

"i didn't, my date did. he put an expired card down to pay and then used the bathroom excuse to get out of it." mike shakes his head. in what world would someone try to escape a date with you?

"makes sense, but you still have to pay for the meal."

"how the fuck am i supposed to do that?" you screech, crossing your arms over your chest. "i don't have any money. i have to return this stupid fucking dress in the morning just so i can pay my rent."

the dress is nice. it's a black satin maxi dress with thin straps and a slit up the side. it's fairly simple, but mike can't deny how well it fits you, and how good you look in it.

"i don't know what you're going to do, but you better do something or we're going to have to call the police."

"fucking call them! i don't care," you retort, and so begins your back and forth with the security personnel.

"you don't care?"

"no."

"are you an idiot? you just don't care?"

"okay, one, i'm not an idiot and two, i really don't. this whole situation is fucking stupid. i can't pay the bill, okay? i don't know what to tell you."

"my mom always said that as a female, you should never be broke. maybe it's time for you to stand on that corner right there in that pretty dress and sell your---" the man is cut off by a sharp "hey, watch yourself. i'll fucking kill you." from mike. he steps to the security guards, who retreat a little when they realize he's not joking.

you don't know this man, not even his name, but he asked you if you were okay then and now, he's standing up for you, even after you accused him of being a nice guy. you make a mental note to apologize to him after all of this.

"i'll pay the fucking bill. how much is it?"

"it's $400, mr. schmidt," the waitress says, her face awash with red. Last name basis? How often did he come to this expensive ass restaurant?

mike looks at you and then back to the waitress, saying, "charge it to my tab. tip the bill." The waitress nods excitedly, echoing, "thank you, thank you, thank you" as she scurries back inside with the security guards. They give mike dirty looks the entire way back, giving up just before disappearing into oblivion.

mike faces you. He's a little disheveled in the eyes, the irritation he holds inside written all over his face. somehow, even his scowl is attractive.

you rub your hands over your goosebumped arms, the chill in the air wildly apparent. mike is instantly shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders, giving you a friendly smile. it's warm inside, and smells like the expensive department store colognes you snuck samples of as a kid. for some reason, you feel at ease.

"i'm sorry about your date. he sounds like a dickhead."

"yeah," you agree, biting at your cracked bottom lip. "i guess it's my fault. i really shouldn't have trusted a guy who planned his day by fives."

"hours?"

"minutes."

mike sucks air between his teeth, cringing at your words. "he sounds like a psychopath."

"maybe he was," you hum, using the lapels of mike's coat to pull it tighter around you. "dodged bullet."

"dodged bullet," he repeats, smirking down at you. his hazel eyes sparkle. you don't know why you feel so... positively unnerved yet tranquil in his presence. who was this man?

"mr. schmidt?" a valet worker in all white exits an expensive-looking, deep gray sports car. the interior looks like a spaceship, and you can't help but crane your neck a little further to get a better look.

you're not paying attention as the worker drops the keys into mike's hand and mike hands him a hundred-dollar bill he fished from his pocket. you're just focused on the car, wondering a million things. how much was it? how was its gas mileage? did it take premium gas or something more?

"do you need a ride home?" mike holds the keys up, jangling them in front of your face. you connect the dots and let out a loud belly laugh, completely blindsided.

"this is your car?"

"i...think so?" he teases, watching the happiness fall from your face. a ride home. why would you want to go home to be alone, once again collecting the jagged pieces of your broken heart from the floor?

mike instantly stiffens. "that was a joke," he clarifies, but you dismiss it with a raise of your hand.

"no no, it was fine, funny even. i just...i don't want to go home right now."

"do you want to come back to mine?" mike doesn't know if it's too forward, but it doesn't hurt to try. you needed company, and nothing would ever compel him to leave you here after everything. he catches the way your face twitches and raises his hands in defense again. "no funny business, i promise. just so you're safe, and not alone tonight."

you don't think over it very long. you'd been to plenty of strangers' houses, and this was only one night. you were sure you could trust this man. after your date from hell and nearly going to jail, what was the harm?

"okay, i'll come. thank you," you muse as mike leads you to the passenger side of his car. he opens the door for you, and you crane your head to him before you sit down. you're so close you can see the flecks in his hazel eyes, the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, every single individual hair that peppers his jaw and mouth. it makes you forget your name.

"i'm y/n, by the way." he nods and smiles at you, wide and bright. suddenly, your legs feel like noodles.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm mike."

"mike," you repeat as you lower yourself into his car. "mike."

who knew where this would lead you?

been up all night writing this ayyeeeee, i write SO MUCH! going to work on writing blurbs, i promiseeeeeee. also this is very cute. i'm excited to delve into their story because it will be mostly pwp (for ficlets and blurbs) but definitely more structured for longer fics. can't wait to see where it goes!

[netherworldpost]

Scooby Apartments

I like to think of Velma, Fred, Shaggy, and Daphne having separate apartments. They each can have their own space this way.

Finding four next to each other will be difficult, and also, well --

-- have you ever randomly seen someone you desperately love on the street? Completely unplanned? You're just walking down the street to grab a loaf of bread or maybe a mirror or something, and There Walking Down the Street is your Friend and/or Your Love.

Having apartments within the same building, but in different areas, facilitates this quite a bit, when you think about it. Other mischief, too.

"Like, Velma? You mailed me an invitation to breakfast?" Shaggy will ask, pouring the syrup, one lazy Sunday morning.

"Yes and thank you for R-S-V-Ping with the enclosed card," she'll say, with a heated glance at Fred, who is at that moment taking a big bite of toast, who did not mail back the card per request --

-- despite it being pre-addressed --

-- and prepaid with postage.

"I returned mine," Daphne will say, both hands holding her coffee cup, as she mock-glares at Fred, "via the post, despite the fact Velma was in the mail room with me when I was checking my mailbox and saw it came."

"A verbal and physical r-s-v-p was actually quite endearing," Velma will smile at her.

"I thought saying a 'hey yeah I'll be there!' was sufficient when I was driving you to the grocery store?" Fred will attempt to recover. "To get these breakfast supplies?"

"Nope." Velma will counter, stealing a piece of his bacon.

Scooby watched, giggling wildly.

[ros3ybabe]

Day 1/90: 90-Day Challenge 🎀

Here we go again!!

Happy 1st of Febrary, lovelies 🩷

I was initially planning on coming back starting Monday but omg was I so tired after working all weekend and trying to keep up with school work. And now tomorrow is Friday, again? At least I'm not working double shifts this weekend, thankfully.

🏋‍♀️ Physical Health

walked ~10k steps

ordered some groceries

attempted to go to the gym (was having a bad day so it did not work out like that)

🧠 Mental Health

not much, but had a well needed, sorta relationship check in with my boyfriend due to some worrisome and upsetting dreams I had the previous night

♥️ Emotional Health

distracted myself from being sad and grumpy

📚 Intellectual Health

completed and submitted my 1st psyc assignment

planned homework for the next week in my planner

wrote down a sheet of things to remember for chemistry

🏘 Adulting

recieved my new insurance card in the mail and the virtual copy as well

set up an appointment with my therapist for this month

set up an appointment with my psych doctor for this month

set up an appointment with my PCP for this month

submitted an order for my birth control + other medication thru my pharmacy app

paid rent + made a credit card payment

🥰 Self Care

washed a load of laundry

scheduled some cleaning chores for the weekend afternoons

set up a morning routine (in my notes app) for me to begin following

bought some more electrolyte waters for the week

today was honestly not the best day for me mental health wise, if I'm being completely honest. I nearly cried a little but, was definitely overly mean to myself, and felt like garbage for a good part of today. but that didn't stop me from making myself a good dinner, relaxing a bit, being productive, and ending the day in a good mood.

I have no clue what tomorrow's post is going to look like since I have an 8am to 230pm class (we're going to be cooking for ourselves in preparation for the mini restaurant well be running next week). Right after class I'll have to change my shirt and head up a small hill on campus to my job, where I'll work from about 3pm to 930ish pm. so we will see what happens in tomorrow's update!

til next time lovelies 🩷

[roscgcld]

DAYDREAMING!READER || so embarassing...

request: hi ! wondering how dd!reader somehow got drunk from a party and yuuta is protective of her (idk if they're old enough to drink but oh well - or yuuta would even let dd!reader drink) hehe~

note: my first bit of writing after being away for months! i am not really sure how things will go from here on out, since it really has been a hot minute since i’ve written anything. but i am hoping to be able to get back into the swing of things soon! xoxo

pronouns: she/her

!disclaimer! - mentions of alcohol and underaged drinking 

daydreaming!reader masterlist  |  buy me a coffee?  

“A party?”

Dark-blue eyes scanned over the ornate card that fell out from his morning mail, taking in the intricately written characters on the cream page. An engagement party between two smaller, but still influential clans, is to happen over the upcoming weekend. The newly engaged couple were a looker for sure, but Yuta wouldn’t put it past them to only be engaged for bloodline purposes. “Why would I even be invited to something like this?”

Still muttering to himself Yuta glanced away from the card onto the calendar that was on his wall to check his schedule. His eyes however would always drift from his messy calendar to the brightly decorated photobooth picture of himself and Y/N. and immediately, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Right, he is in a relationship with someone who was once the most sought after bachelorettes; and with his distant but constantly talked about (thanks, Gojo Satoru for not being able to keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about his beloved students) connection to the Gojo clan, it was no wonder he gets invites to high profile parties. 

Still - that doesn’t mean he wants to be. “I wonder if Y/N wants to skip this one or not..”

He got his answer not long after opening that invitation; and that is how he found himself scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he waits for Y/N to model another dress in a store that she had called in advance to shop in. Before this he had picked up his dry-cleaned suit, and after making sure it was ‘on theme’ with whatever dress Y/N has in mind, he was dragged into the dress store he is in right now. All in her quest to ‘find the perfect dress’.

“Okay, how about this?,” The sound of a familiar voice brought Yuta out of his mindless scrolling as he glances up; his eyes immediately landing on a pair of bright doe eyes looking at him expectantly. The dress Y/N had on was one was definitely one of his favourites - a soft swirl of reds, yellows, and creams over a simple spaghetti-strapped dress that ends around her knees. It hugged her figure well, yet being loose enough where it doesn’t seem like it’s about to break open if she chooses to take another piece of chocolate cake from the dessert table. “I think this is one of my favourites so far.”

Y/N huffs and puffs her cheeks out a little in thought as she spun around to check the length of the dress from the back; her mind seeming to wander as she gently runs her hands down the smooth fabric. “I like it too,” Y/N states finally as she meets Yuta’s eyes through the mirror, a smile tugging over her pretty features that had Yuta’s cheeks warming up from embarrassment. Now why is he still getting embarrassed whenever she smiles at him? “I think I am going to get it.”

“A good choice,” Yuta somehow replies back with ease as he watches her skip back to the dressing room, a soft chuckle leaving his chest at how adorable she looks. He was sure if he squinted hard enough he’d see happy cat ears on the top of her head wiggling in excitement, all because Yuta agreed with her on the dress. Yuta wasn’t too sure why Y/N would want his opinion, since he found everything she wore beautiful. 

But this was also an excuse for him to spend more time with her, so he wasn’t complaining too much.

It didn’t take too long after that for them to be out of the store, Y/N waving at the saleswoman while Yuta held onto her hand and the bags over his shoulder along with his suit. “Should we be getting a gift for the new couple?,” Yuta asks Y/N curiously as they got onto the elevator to make their way towards another store to continue their shopping spree. “It would be bad if we showed up empty-handed.”

“A lil’,” Y/N admits as she looks up at Yuta, resting her cheek against his shoulder as he raises an eyebrow in response. “Usually ‘tosan would pick up an expensive bottle of sake. You know, those brands that are made by old families with old techniques,” Y/N continues as she leads Yuta off to a shoe store so she can browse for some heels. “I doubt we can get alcohol at our age...maybe something more useful? Like a toaster oven - everyone needs a toaster oven.”

The shopping day passed and before Yuta knew it, the engagement party day was upon them. Yuta and Y/N had decided to get that toaster oven that he had suggested at the mall, so they left their perfectly wrapped giftbox on the overflowing table at the entrance of the party before they made their way deeper into the ballroom. Y/N had immediately led them towards her parents, who greeted the teen couple with warm smiles and hugs.. “How has school been, you two?”

After some catching up Y/N and Yuta started to mingle with the others, slowly making their way towards the young couple to share their well wishes. The young man, Ida, and Yuta both hit it ofg; talking about a video game series they were both into as Y/N and the girl, Iori, fawned over the dress Y/N was wearing. 

“Oh - how rude of me,” Ida comments after a few more moments, giving Yuta a kind smile as Yuta gave him a curious glance. The young man gestures for a server over, and Yuta’s eyes immediately caught onto the familiar wide-mouth glasses. As both him and Y/N were handed a glass each, Yuta leaned down to take a snip of the clear liquid and immediately caught onto the familiar scent of sake. “I know we aren’t supposed to be drinking until we’re of age..but what is a celebration without some alcohol? Of course, you do not have to if you don’t want to.”

Now Yuta is not dumb; although the laws are strict, it wasn’t uncommon for people to drink under the age of 20. Even more so when you come from a noble household; alcohol and politics tend to come hand in hand. And he wouldn’t lie and claim to be a saint either - he’s joined in on Yuji and Maki’s drinking sessions in their dorms as they played a few rounds of poker. It was through those experiences that he realises that he has quite the tolerance. 

So he wouldn’t be opposed to taking a shot of two; but what he is worried about is Y/N. Who, now known to everyone, has little to no tolerance for alcohol. However, the few seconds he had taken to stare at the small ceramic cup and look over at his girlfriend, Y/N had already tipped head head back and drank half of her sake. Immediately he stared at her with wide eyes as she made a face at the taste of the alcohol, yet she put on a smile without missing a beat as Iori giggles and takes a more appropriate sip from her cup. 

Since it would look odd if he didn’t do the same he took a careful sip as well, enjoying the distinctly nutty taste of the drink as he wraps his free arm around Y/N’s waist. “As much as I don’t want to be a party pooper, I do feel a little bad drinking below the age limit,” Yuta admits with a chuckle, wordlessly taking a glass of juice when a server passes by; handing it off to Y/N as she carefully finishes the rest of her sake so she can hold the glass of juice. The speed with which she did it had Yuta cringing ever so slightly in concern. “Plus, I am not sure if it is a good idea to return to campus drunk...”

“Ah, right! You and Y/N-san are both enrolled in Tokyo branch of Jujutsu Tech,” Ida commented with sparkling eyes, looking very interested at the idea of the school as Iori rolled her eyes fondly at her fiancé. Probably a conversation she has heard one too many times. “I am a little jealous. I’ve always wanted to enrol myself, since getting to work with fellow jujutsu practitioners my age may do me some good. But alas, I didn’t manage to pass the entrance exams myself. It would be great if you’d share some tips!”

‘Oh - uh..I can try?”

And just like that Yuta found himself talking to Ida about college, in between the splendour of other grand sorcerers and influential families around them rubbing shoulders. It is during this conversation that both himself and Y/N, due to the fact that they were just standing to the new couple, were offered a few drinks by the other party goers. No one seems to care about the fact that they were all underaged, nor the fact that giving them what seems to be unlimited amounts of alcohol to people their age can be quite an issue. 

And unfortunately for the both of them, both Y/N and himself are people pleasers at heart; so every time they were handed a drink, they do not have it in them to say no. The difference however, is that Yuta can handle his drinks - Y/N, on the other hand...well, about two more glasses of champagne in and she was already giggly and seeming to be swaying on her feet. Immediately Yuta had his arm around her, calling over a server to bring him a glass of water quickly. “Alright, princess - that’s the end for you.”

“But whyy?,” Y/N lets out a whine as she stumbles into Yuta’s chest, giving him drunken puppy eyes that seem to work better than her sober ones. Maybe it was paired with how clingy she seems to get, pouting sadly like a scorned puppy as she seemingly tries to bury herself into his skin. But Yuta immediately felt his heart skip a beat as he stares down at the obviously intoxicated Y/N; who seems to have decided that she did not want to interact with anyone else, and want Yuta’s full attention on her and her only. “Y-Yuta~..”

“Hush,” Yuta mumbles with a soft chuckle as he thanked the waiter who handed him the glass of ice water, holding it up to her lips as Y/N whines and turns her head away from the chilled glass sluggishly. “Come on - don’t do this to me now,” Yuta said with a soft groan as he stills the pouty girl, coaxing her to drink from the glass slowly as Ida gave the couple an amused glance. 

Yuta removed the cup after she took a few gulps, rubbing the small of her back as she rests her head on his shoulder with a huff. “You have quite the handful there,” Ida said with a chuckle, his words causing Yuta to let out a tensed chuckle as he gently strokes at Y/N’s waist. “Nothing new then,” Yuta replies back with ease just as a pair of footsteps made their way towards them, a familiar low whistle following soon after. 

“Damn, the only day you two are allowed out and you guys are really making the most out of it.”

Yuta wasn’t surprised that his white-haired sensei was at the party - after all, it was an honour to have the most powerful sorcerer mingling amongst their guests. However, Yuta has a feeling that Gojo had only agreed because he had seen who had RSVP for the occasion. “As the responsible sensei that I am, I should be reporting you two to Yaga for breaking the rules.”

“G-Gojo-sensei!~,” Y/N greeted through a hiccup, forcing herself out of the warm hold Yuta had on her and stumble her way to the tall man with a giggle. Gojo, used to the antics of drunken people, casually opened his arms to catch his giggling student. His touch was respectful yet firm as he carefully glanced over Y/N’s face, shaking his head even as he carefully rests his hands on her shoulders. “Having fun, young lady?”

A drunken nod and giggle left Y/N’s lips as Yuta gave Gojo an unamused glance, handing the white haired man the glass of water Y/N was sipping on moments before. Gojo, not new to this rodeo, wordlessly grabbed the glass and had Y/N drinking from it with ease. Or more so he had a grip on the back of her neck to hold her in place as he carefully tilts the glass against her mouth so she can sip at it carefully. “How many did she have to drink?”

“From what I remember, the sake and some champagne. I drank the others,” Yuta said with a stressed sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, not noticing the guilty look Iori was sporting. Gojo noticed however, and just one simple glance at the younger girl had her shrinking behind her fiancé's shoulders. “W-Well...we may have had a shot or two of soju..”

“Who the hell is serving soju?,” Yuta asks in a clearly defeated tone, to which Ida just chuckles softly and gently pats him on the shoulder as a form of support. “Probably some of the other younger guests here. You can bring your own drinks in and have them with people,” Ida admits with an awkward cough before he gestures for someone to come over, giving Yuta a reassuring smile when the clearly stressed teen gives him a desperate glance in return. “We will prepare a room for you two to rest up first. Just give the staff a call and they will prepare a car as well. A simple gesture for dealing with my ramblings about college on what was supposed to be your off day after all.”

Yuta was relieved - at least he would be able to sit Y/N down and let her sleep the alcohol off for a bit before even attempting to make their way back to campus. So, with the help of Gojo, they managed to guide the clearly whiny and stumbling Y/N towards the back where there was a room prepared for them without arousing the stares of the other party goers around them. “Yuta, I thought you were more responsible than this.”

“You know her and her alcohol,” Yuta grunts as he kicks his dress shoes off messily, giving one of the maids a thankful look when she quietly states that she will bring more water for them. Ignoring the tsk that came out of Gojo, he leaves the man be to balancing a giggling Y/N as he bends down to unbuckle her heels. Catching onto her ankle so she does not kick his nose clean off his face once he managed to get the first one undone. “I *hic* c-can d- *hic* do it myself..”

“No, you can’t,” Yuta grunts as he managed to get her heel off before carefully setting her foot down, Gojo letting out a sudden grunt when she seemed to have stumble straight into his chest from that alone. Yet Yuta didn’t bat an eye as he quickly takes her other shoe off, taking the step up into the tatami covered floor leading into the room. “Alright, I can grab her from here. Can you go and lay some cushions together, sensei?”

“On it,” Gojo hums as he takes his dress shoes off with ease before he made his way into the room, where a maid was carefully laying out a mattress and some pillows for Y/N to rest on. “Alright princess, hands on my shoulders,” Yuta hums as he held onto Y/N’s waist, guiding her to take the step into the room before he carefully led her towards the makeshift bed pressed up against the wall. “And down you go.”

Y/N huffs out a giggle as she was sat on the mattress, giving Yuta a wide smile as he stares down at her with a blank look on his face. He was definitely not impressed at how mischievous she is being. “Do not even start with me,” Yuta sighs out before he waves Gojo off, since the older man knows that Y/N was going to get an earful. So all he did was wave at them with a cheeky smile of his own as he walked out of the private room, closing the sliding doors behind him to provide the couple with some privacy. “We’ve talked about taking drinks without thinking, Y/N.”

“Y-You’re not my d-dad!,” Y/N whines out with a huff as she crosses her arms over her chest with a pout, looking like a scorned kid with her sleepy eyes as she looks away from her brooding boyfriend. Yuta sighs and closes his eyes in defeat, quietly squatting down in front of her after shrugging his suit jacket off. “What am I going to do with you?”

Wordlessly he drapes his jacket over her shoulders before he turned to face the table behind him, intending to grab a glass of water for Y/N so she can drink from it again. However a familiar hand grabbed onto his shirt sleeve, causing him to pause before he looks back at Y/N. Who was now sporting tearful eyes as her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly. “Oh...princess,” Whatever anger or annoyance Yuta felt immediately left his body as he turned to give Y/N his full attention again, scooting over the tatami flooring on his knees so he can wrap the sniffling girl up in his arms. “I know you didn’t mean to get this drunk..you just didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

Y/N sniffles and buries her face into Yuta’s chest, completely forgetting that she was wearing a face of makeup that can transfer onto his white button up. Yet Yuta doesn’t seem to care either as he gently pats the back of her head, careful not to mess up her perfectly done updo while he tries to comfort Y/N. “It’s a simple mistake. Everyone makes them - don’t beat yourself over it, okay? I’m sorry for seeming to be angry at you, you didn’t do anything wrong alright? I just worry about you all the time..”

Another sniffle and a soft nod was all Y/N gave him, and without another moments notice he carefully collected her into his arms. Shifting himself about so he was now seated on the mattress instead; having placed Y/N so she was curled up against his chest comfortably. “Alright,” Yuta said with a sigh as he settles down against the wall behind him, crossing his legs in front of him as Y/N wraps her arms around the jacket she had over her shoulders still. “To be honest, as much as this is not ideal, I am not opposed to going home early.”

While Y/N didn’t show her tearful face, she did reach over to smack him on the chest gently; as if she was reprimanding him for once again giving into his anti-social behaviours. “I am being serious - I was getting kinda desperate when Ida wanted to talking about nothing more than college. If Jujutsu Tech needed a spokesperson, I’ll make sure to put his name down for the position.”

It took a few more moments of silence and gently swaying from Yuta’s end, but soon Y/N has claimed down and seems to have grown sleepy. “Are you hungry?,” Yuta asks her quietly as he quietly gestures for the maid to come over to bring them some food over, looking down at Y/N when made a face at the thought of food. However Yuta wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything before the party, as he hadn’t had time to cook them something simple before they left. It might explain how. after just a few drinks, she was as drunk and confused as she was. “I know you are going to hate me, but you need to eat some food before we try to get home, okay?”

All Yuta got in response was incoherent grumbling, but he chose to ignore that as he quietly thanked the woman who handed him a plate of finger foods for them to nibble on. Quietly Yuta picked up some karaage with his chopsticks before he held it up to Y/N’s lips, to which she drunkenly leaned forward before taking a bite from the fried chicken. “Careful,” Yuta coos at her and shifts his arm to pick up the piece of fried chicken skin that had dropped onto her chest, wiping at it carefully so he doesn’t end up smudging the sauce all over the fabric by mistake. Because he was sure that even at her drunken haze, she will not let him hear the end of it if he allowed for any of the food he was feeding her to stain her dress.

He fed her a few more bites of the different foods before she whined that she didn’t want anymore. So he just grabbed the glass of water that he had set aside and helped her to take another sip of water, giving her a smile when she takes a big gulp. “There you go. Good girl.”

(rose: the way i giggled at that line was embarrassing - one man should not have that much power over me T^T)

A soft burp was all Yuta got in response, to which Yuta just snorts before he opens her purse after struggling with the clip to find a packet of tissues. After a few more bites of snacks in between, and an entire pint size glass of water down, Y/N was starting to gain some of the colour back to her face. “I wanna go to the bathroom..,” Y/N whines as she gently tugs at Yuta’s shirt, to which he just raises an eyebrow at her before he nods and starts to help her up from the ground. 

He did stand for a few moments and wiggled his toes so he can get the blood flowing back down his legs before he started to lead her towards the bathroom, noting that Y/N was not tripping on her own feet as much. He let her use the bathroom by herself, but he did make sure to keep close to the door so he can rush in if she falls.

 Thankfully nothing happened, and when she did come out of the bathroom, all she did was pout before she rests her forehead against his shoulder sleepily. “Can we go home?,” She grumbles, to which Yuta gave her an amused glance before he held a hand out for her to take. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.”

Yuta, being a man skilled at avoiding people, somehow managed to navigate his way through the busy partying crowd to allow himself and Y/N to escape. They did stop briefly to inform the engaged couple and her parents that they were leaving, with Yuta buttering them up and informing them that they have other engagements while skilfully hiding how drunk Y/N still was. He assured her parents that she was just tired, as they did have a few back to back assignments and reports that they had to do before the dinner had begun. He didn’t bother to lie to Ida and and Iori - instead reassuring the young couple that they will make it home safely and that he will text them the moment they make it back to the dorms. 

Although it was last minute, thankfully their driver had just rounded the corner after grabbing some dinner for himself. So he picked the young couple up, being quite concerned for Y/N as he rarely sees her as drunk and out of character. Yet Yuta reassured him that she was feeling a lot better; so the older man made sure to give Yuta a plastic bag just in case Y/N chose to loose the contents of her stomach before they drove off. 

Y/N, although still drunk, thankfully did not suffer much motion sickness - so she just closed her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder throughout the drive. Yuta, deciding that it was too much work to wake her up and make sure she walks carefully down the long and winding hallways of their school, grabbed the keys to her room from her purse just as they were rolling up the front of their college dorm. He got out first, and after adjusting her dress carefully, leans inside to pick her up form her seat bridal style. “Do you need help, Okkotsu-san?”

“No, I think I can manage from here,” Yuta replies back with a warm smile, nodding for the kind man to drive off as he gently shifts the sleeping Y/N in his arms. With another round of mumbled pleasantries Yuta turned to walk back into the college, passing through the gates and into the familiar wooden hallway. Thankfully, as it was a normal school night, the others were either locked away in their rooms to sleep or are hanging out with one another past the curfew time. So Yuta managed to get them back into her dorm with minimal effort. 

“Alright princess, here we are,” Yuta chuckles as he closes the door behind him, greeting Catoru with a coo as the furball ran towards them in greeting. “Wait first, you menace. Gotta put your mum to bed,” Yuta chuckles as the ball of white weaving around his legs, gently nudging the purring cat aside as he stepped deeper into Y/N’s room. 

He carefully set her down in her bed before he started to get to work - taking her heels off before he proceeded to help change her into one of his shirts to sleep in comfortably. He even help remove her makeup with some micellar water, making sure to be careful to wipe her face bare of any products. He did attempt to recreate her skincare routine; but after being intimidated by the many bottles on her vanity, he just stuck to the basic toner pads and moisturiser combo.

It was better than nothing. 

“Guard your mother,” Yuta mumbles to Catoru quietly as he reaches over to pet the resident cat, smiling gently when he made a noise while rubbing his head against his hand. After making sure Y/N was all tucked into bed (along with a plushie for her to cuddle with), he refilled Catoru’s water and food bowl. Deciding to let her sleep along comfortably in bed for the killer hangover he was sure she will have tomorrow.

And he wasn’t wrong - he was in the midst of pouring himself some coffee the next morning when he heard what  sounded like an animal’s pained moan; followed by a sloppy knock being thrown at his door. Yuta lets out an amused chuckle as he walks over to the door and opens in, chuckling softly as he was met with squinted eyes and a pout that expressed pain and annoyance. “How bad is it?”

Y/N grumbles as she gently pushes her way through the doorway, planting her forehead squarely against his chest as Yuta closes the door behind her with an amused look. “Come on - I’ll make some brown sugar toast for you. The sugars will help,” Yuta chuckles softly as he carefully let Y/N into his room and onto his bed, immediately going over to his drawers to find some panadol for her to take. “Ugh..this is so embarassing...”

“You’re fine,” Yuta comments with a chuckle as he handed her the pain killers and a glass of water, going back to the kitchenette in his room so he can finish pouring his coffee and start on mixing the brown sugar and butter mixture for the toast. “You didn’t embarrass yourself too hard. Sure, a few people noticed, but so far no videos of anything you’ve done have surfaced.”

Even though it was all in gest, Y/N gave Yuta the dirtiest look she can muster at that moment before falling back against his pillows, cuddling up with Catoru who must have followed her in. “Not on my black bedsheets,” Yuta sighs softly to himself as he stared at the white furball happily rolling around on his comforter, knowing that he will have to lint roll it later so he doesn’t wake up with fur in his eyes or mouth until the next time he washes his bedsheets. Yet he made no other comment as he puts the buttered bread into the toaster oven, keeping an eye on it so it doesn’t burn. 

Soon he was sitting down on the bed besides Y/N, a mug of warm tea in one hand and a plate with two pieces of sugary toast in the other; giving her a comforting smile when she peeled a sleepy eye open. “Breakfast is ready,” He coos down at her as Y/N gave him a gently but grateful smile, slowly sitting up as she reaches over to take a sip of tea. “Feeling a little better?”

“A little,” Y/N admits as she sets the mug of tea aside, thanking Yuta when she was handed the plate before taking a bite from the warm food. A soft hum of happiness left her lips when she tasted the brown sugar on her tongue, her reaction causing Yuta to smile gently as he adjusted himself against his bed. They were both silent as she slowly finished her meal; with Yuta going on his phone as he pets Catoru with his free hand, while Y/N quietly chewed on her toast while trying to make sure she doesn’t leave crumbs everywhere.

When she was done she sets the plate aside and wiped her mouth and hands clean, quietly making her way over to her boyfriend before she curls up into his side. Yuta just lifted his arm without batting an eye, giving her a warm smile when she leaned up so he can press a kiss on the top of her head. “What am I going to do with you?,” Yuta mumbles with a soft chuckle, cuddling her closer to him while Y/n just lets out a pained moan. 

Yuta just rolled his eyes fondly before he turned his phone off, deciding to just cuddle her and baby her for the rest of the day. He knows he should reprimand her for what she had done yesterday, since it was irresponsible for her to do so. But he also knew better - so all he did was gently stroke her hair and made sure she drank enough water and felt comfortable for the rest of the day. 

He’ll just talk to her about it tomorrow.

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© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform. 

[roosterforme]

Airplane Mode Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley manages to secure a seat on your flight once again, he has to fight against the clock to make sure you understand he's sincere.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, swearing

Length: 2900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is part 2 of 2! Here is Part 1! Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun!

Bradley was just about to dock in Japan. He was so anxious to turn his phone on after nine days at sea. Not because of all of the junk mail and app update alerts, but because there was a small chance he had a text message from you waiting for him. 

"Come on," he whispered, hoisting his backpack and small duffle higher onto his shoulders. But as his phone booted up, it was becoming obvious that there was nothing from you.

Bradley sighed. He had been hopeful where he shouldn't have been, and now he just felt disappointment. 

He took a taxi to his hotel, got settled in his room with a huge platter of sushi, and then looked up tickets for a flight back to San Diego. His mission had been successful, but he was happy to have it completed. 

His finger hovered over two flight options for the following day. He could leave in the morning and get back to his own bed faster. Or, he could get the flight that left Tokyo tomorrow evening and hope like hell that you were working. He knew the Navy would reimburse his economy ticket, but he wasn't taking any chances. He paid for the first class upgrade with his credit card; it would be worth every penny of the additional six hundred dollars just for the chance to look at you again. He selected the same spot next to the window, right across from the fold down seat.

Then he turned on the TV, found a Japanese soap opera, and pretended it was the same one you liked. And then he slept like a log, his body still not used to this time zone and the horrible beds he had been sleeping in. When he woke up, he got to the airport way earlier than was strictly necessary, so he drank some Japanese beers and bought himself a bunch of snacks to pass the time. 

He was so antsy. And for what? Just to be disappointed? You had tucked his phone number in your pocket. Unless you had accidentally washed the napkin with your clothing, you had intentionally decided not to contact him. So even if he saw you again, it was going to be a strictly 'Bradley can look, but he may not touch' scenario. Because the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by becoming one of the creepy guys who probably ruined whole itineraries for you. 

When it was time to scan his ticket and make his way aboard the waiting aircraft, he tried his best to relax. He was greeted by a male flight attendant, but he could see ugly loafers just below the curtain, and his heart skipped around. He quickly stowed his bags and took his seat, keeping his eyes on the curtain the entire time. 

It seemed to happen in slow motion, the way you pushed the curtain aside. You were smiling and talking to the other flight attendant as your eyes drifted across the interior of the aircraft until your gaze settled on Bradley. He was frozen to the spot, watching your eyes flutter closed, your eyelashes brushing your cheeks. You bit your lip and grinned at him.

"Welcome aboard, sir. Can I get you anything before we take off?" you asked him, repeating the exact words you had spoken to him last time.

You just laughed as you took a step closer to him. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he whispered as he looked up at you. "I haven't stopped thinking about you in the last ten days."

Your lips parted in surprise. "Oh?"

Bradley nodded and really took a good look at you. You had styled your hair differently today, but everything else was just the same. His memory hadn't done justice to the soft curve of your cheeks or the shape of your lips. In person, you were a work of art.

You stepped further out of the aisle as more passengers shuffled along, coming to stand so close to Bradley, that he had to look way up to see your face. "I may have looked up the passenger manifest for this flight last night," you told him with a teasing tone to your voice. "And I may have picked up this flight instead of flying back tomorrow. I was hoping you were Bradshaw comma Bradley."

"That's me. Bradshaw comma Bradley. And I claimed the best seat in the house." His heart was skipping along to an unknown song, a new one that he would love to play on his piano for you. "But you didn't text me."

"Ah, no. I did not," you replied, taking a small step away from him. You looked embarrassed now. "I wasn't sure you really expected me to. Thought maybe you charm a different flight attendant on all of your trips."

Bradley's eyes went wide. He had come on too strong last time. Made it seem like he did this shit on a regular basis. His heart was still pounding, but the song was far less pleasant now. 

"You think any other flight attendant is half as lovely as you are?"

You just shrugged and smirked at him. "I don't know. You tell me." You turned to greet some more passengers, leaving Bradley staring at your backside. 

"Don't be a creep," he muttered to himself as his eyes drifted down your legs and settled on your loafers again. And to his dismay, someone took the aisle seat next to him; the flight was completely sold out. How was he supposed to flirt with you this time, while seated next to a stern looking man who was reading the Wall Street Journal. And this time you had to divide your attention between the two men while you did your safety briefing about the exit row. 

Bradley had to wait until everyone was settled and you were getting into your fold down seat for take off, before you even looked at him again. As soon as Wall Street Journal dude put some earbuds in, Bradley sighed in relief. "I can guarantee they are not."

You gave him a puzzled look.

"The other flight attendants. None of them are even half as lovely. I've never once flirted with any of them. None except you. I haven't given my phone number to a woman in months. You even got me thinking about your loafers. And I was kind of crushed when I turned my phone on at the docks and only had emails from my great-aunt Sandy to read."

It looked like you were trying not to laugh, and Bradley could physically feel himself striking out with you. But then you softly said, "You were so smooth. Got a little scared."

As the plane lifted off, Bradley smiled. "But you checked the flight manifests."

"I did," you agreed, tucking your face to the side in embarrassment. 

"Do you still have my number?"

Your eyes popped up to meet his. "Saved in my phone. As Bradshaw comma Bradley."

His smile grew in size. "I watched a Japanese soap opera last night. Not sure if it was the one you like, and I was very confused about how the characters knew each other, but I'm a little bit obsessed with it already."

You took a deep breath as the plane reached cruising altitude. "So you don't just flirt with everybody?"

"Of course not," he answered immediately. 

"And if I texted you to see if you wanted to hang out next week when I have time off?" 

His eyes went a little wide. "I would drop everything."

"Okay," you said with a smile as you stood to help someone who called for you, and your knees brushed against his leg. 

Bradley's eyes followed you before settling on Wall Street Journal dude who was already looking at him. 

"Nice one, son," he told Bradley with a nod of his head.

A laugh escaped Bradley. "Literally unbelievable, right?"

"Quite," he replied before turning his gaze back to his newspaper. 

Bradley settled himself against his seat, listening for your voice as he occasionally heard you over the sounds of the plane and passengers. He knew of a decent sushi place near his house with a takeout menu. He'd figure out how to get Japanese shows on his TV at home. He could already picture how you would look on his couch. He wondered if you wore your loafers with jeans. 

You didn't take Bradley's drink order, rather you delivered him an unprompted cosmopolitan with his dinner. And when you brought him a second one as it was getting later and darker, your fingers met his. 

"I'm sorry I didn't text you. I wanted to."

He grinned as you collected his dinner tray along with Wall Street Journal dude's tray; he had dozed off with his meal half eaten. 

"You can make it up to me by texting me when we land so I can have your number."

You nodded and rolled your eyes. "I'll make it up to you. Now stop flirting and let me work. The guys in 3C and 3D are a handful."

Bradley's brow scrunched up. "Is there a guy giving you a hard time?" He was already about to stand up, but you planted your palm on his chest and eased him back against his seat.

"No. Nothing like that," you promised. "God, you're sweet."

Bradley just gaped up at you, so close he could feel your breath on his cheek as you let your fingers trail up to the collar of his Top Gun sweatshirt. When you grazed the scar on his neck with your fingertip, he was practically panting. 

"You'll tell me if they get out of hand?" he asked, voice deep and raspy. 

"You gonna rush in and protect me?" you asked as you released him to continue gathering up the trays. 

"I told you I would flex for you, Baby."

You actually giggled as you collected the rest of the dishes and shot Bradley a wide eyed look. "You sure did." Then you were gone, behind that curtain and out of his sight. 

It was getting late, but Bradley wasn't tired in the least. He was currently dedicated to watching you shuttle dinner trays and glasses back to the galley as each first class passenger seemed to be dozing off. Every time you passed his row, you smiled at him. 

When you didn't emerge for quite some time, Bradley stood and stepped gingerly over his sleeping seatmate and made his way toward the lavatory. He paused at the curtain, which had been left open several inches. You were standing in the small galley, stacking the catering trays and depositing them into the slotted metal cart. He watched you work for a few beats, your movements methodical, your expression a little dreamy. He was hoping he was the cause of that. 

Bradley pulled the curtain aside a few more inches, and you turned to face him, an expression of professional caution fell into place that immediately melted away again. "Bradshaw comma Bradley. Welcome to my office."

He laughed and ducked his large form inside the galley with you, letting the curtain fall mostly closed behind him. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just on my way to the restroom."

Bradley was silenced as you set down the last tray and then reached for the front of his sweatshirt, bunched the fabric up in your fist, and used it to pull him closer to you. When your lips brushed against his in the sweetest kiss, it sent him reeling. As you started to pull away, he dipped his head closer to yours, and you kissed him a little harder. 

"Lavatory is that way," you whispered, your nose brushing his mustache as you pointed to Bradley's left.

"Oh. Right." He wanted to keep kissing you, but when you released your hold on his sweatshirt, Bradley backed out of the curtained off area and let himself into the tiny bathroom. He looked in the mirror to see that his cheeks were flushed and he was grinning. 

He washed his hands and did his best to fix his hair and straighten out his clothing, and when Bradley walked past the galley again, you were waiting for him. 

He drank you in from head to toe, loving the way your hip was leaning against the counter as you traced your lower lip softly with your fingertips. With wide eyes and parted lips, you reached for him at the same time he tucked himself inside the small space and pulled the curtain closed.

Your lips mashed against his, and Bradley groaned as you threaded your fingers through his hair. It took him a second to get his hands on you, but when he did, you melted into him. He ran his hands softly from your hips to your waist, wrapping them around you and pulling you closer. 

Bradley had goosebumps as you raked your fingers down the back of his neck, and you were nibbling on his lower lip, teasing him with your tongue. 

You pulled away from his lips with a soft gasp, but you continued to stroke your fingers along his neck and through his hair. "I've never done anything like this before."

But you didn't even give him a chance to respond before you were kissing him again, softer this time, your nose bumping his as you nipped at his lips.

"Shit," Bradley gasped, squeezing your waist as your lips drifted over his cheek and across his jaw. "I'm about to go bankrupt following you from San Diego to Japan every week."

You laughed and started to back out of his grasp. "I'm sorry I didn't text you. It's the first thing I'm going to do when we land."

Bradley licked his lips, already missing the feel of you as he released your waist. 

"You should go sit down before I get in trouble," you whispered, running your fingertips across your lips again. "You're definitely trouble, Bradshaw comma Bradley."

But Bradley stroked your cheek with his thumb until you dropped your hand from your lips, and he kissed you one more time. 

"Nah, I'll be good for you."

He laughed as you shoved him out of the galley, and he made his way back to his seat. Patiently he sat and waited, and soon you were silently folding down your seat and tucking your knees between his long legs, like they belonged there. 

Bradley leaned forward and held out his palm. When you let first your fingers and then your entire hand press against his, he whispered, "I'm taking you out for lunch when we land."

"Are you?" you asked, laughing softly. 

"Yeah. I'm dying for a first date."

You were silent for a beat before you said, "I'm free."

Bradley held your hand until the sun started to brighten the cabin. You bustled around, taking care of everyone until it was time to land. And when the plane was firmly on the ground, Bradley watched you pull your phone out of your pocket. 

"I'm turning off airplane mode, and then I'm going to text you," you promised. 

Bradley scrambled to turn his phone on as well, and when a text arrived with your last name and first name separated by a comma, he saved you to his contacts and smiled as you stood to help passengers with their bags. 

Once again, Bradley waited until everyone else deboarded ahead of him, preferring to stay and watch you next to the rest of the crew. He wanted to kiss you, but he forced himself to leave after you told him, "Thanks for flying with us."

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

You took your time cleaning up and organizing the first class galley and disinfecting the space. As soon as Bradley had deboarded he texted you back, asking if you would like to get sushi for lunch with him. Of course you would. You'd been thinking about him since you first laid eyes on him ten days ago.

And the kisses! What had come over you! It was so unprofessional! But you couldn't seem to help yourself. He was so big and handsome. He smelled good, and he kept looking at you like you were perfect. A girl can only handle so much chemistry before something boils over. 

You would kiss him again as soon as you saw him. That was already settled. 

After grabbing your bag and your badge, you deboarded, telling the captain you'd see him again in a few days, and you glided up the jetway with a smile on your lips. When you exited out into the terminal and saw Bradley waiting for you next to a kiosk that sold sunglasses, your smile erupted into a giggle.

"Are you waiting for me?" you asked when you were close to him.

"Of course," he replied with a bright smile, and you dropped the handle of your bag and wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you close as you kissed him, and when the kiosk owner yelled at the two of you for bumping his display, Bradley took you by the hand. 

"Let's go get some sushi and get to know each other better." 

You walked with him out into the San Diego heat, hand in hand. 

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

Thanks for reading! Hope you loved it! Thanks again to @bradshawsbitch for the insider scoop and for being lovely!

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[notanotherstory]

Mistle-toeing

Warnings: fluff, a really annoying "i-don't-know-limits" man.

Word count: 4.5k

Disclaimer: this was the first lil thing I wrote about Angie. I do hope you enjoy it <3

Morning came and you groaned as your alarm rang and pulled you out of dreamland. You pulled your arm from under the covers and slapped it off, proceeding to stretch and swing your legs to the side of the bed, putting one foot in front of the other before opening the curtains and getting hit by the morning light. 

You rubbed your eyes and blinked repeatedly as they adjusted to the light, getting ready for a much needed shower that’d finally wake you up. It was going to be a long, long, day, you thought, before stepping under the stream of warm water and letting your dreams wash away with it.

As you walked through the streets of Collinsport, you pulled on the brown, thick coat you wore, trying - and failing - to hide your nose from the cold so it wouldn’t turn rudolph red. 

Quickly, you entered the building and shuddered at the change of temperature, ruffling your hair to get rid of the snow that had collected in it, and running your hands along your coat to clean it up from the little white particles that had stuck to it. Rubbing your hands together to warm them up a little bit, your eyes scanned the place.The sight was not the usual; and the energy felt different. A good kind of different.

The office was decorated all around, giving the usually white, clean, serious and cold surrounding, a cozier feeling. An elegantly decorated tree sat next to the coffee machine, which now had an addition of delicious ginger cookies on the counter, along with garlands up on the walls and some wreaths hanging in between them, finished with lights adorning the cubicles, everything strategically placed so it was a harmonious look. Funnily enough, everyone seemed just as surprised as you were. In the few months you’d been around, you had never heard of the office celebrating any kind of festivity, but, well… Here you were, with decorations along the office boxes, Christmas music playing in the background (you recognized Sinatra’s Let it Snow) and Nancy, Angie’s secretary (and your confidante) wearing a Santa hat. You guessed this was her making, and you couldn’t fathom how she had convinced Angie Bouchard to let this happen. 

As you walked by Nancy, you waved shyly at her, mouthing a “Good morning, Nance” and receiving a big smile in return, followed by a wink - you didn’t get the reason for the last gesture, but you knew she always knew things you didn’t. To be honest… you were quite oblivious.

Absentmindedly walking towards your desk, the decorations distracted you from the pair of cobalt eyes following your every move, like a predator stalking its prey, silently, meticulously, and waiting until you had reached your designed space, still staring and assessing your reaction to the changes.

You dropped your leather bag on the desk unceremoniously and hung your coat on the chair, starting your computer to check for the new mails - but something felt off. A glimpse of red showed up on the corner of your eye, and you rapidly turned your head towards the salient colour. There was a gift sitting on your desk. You stared suspiciously at the neatly wrapped box that sported a ruby red colour, finished with a golden bow. No one in the office was too close to you, so this was quite the surprise. Carefully lifting the box while looking for the tag, you instead found a neat card that had your name elegantly written on it, alongside a small message;

“Y/N,

A little birdie told me you had been staring at these for quite some time.

I do hope you enjoy them thoroughly.

P.S., I see you’ve got good taste. Very nice choices.”

You turned the card around to find any kind of initial or name, but ended up with nothing. Saving the little card safely on your bag, you pulled on the ends of the ribbon and watched it fall lightly on the desk. The tips of your fingers grazed the red wrapping paper, feeling its soft texture and travelled down the softness of it until it met one of the seams; your nails picked on the scotch tape and lifted it, being meticulous enough so it wouldn’t tear. 

After you pulled the box out, you kept trying to figure out what it could be. And when it opened, you had to bite your lower lip to keep the grin from taking over your whole face, yet still jumped up and down in your spot excitedly. Inside it there were two of the vinyls you had been looking at the store for the past two weeks, but always decided to not buy them just yet: Herbie Hancock’s Crossings, and Santana’s Caravanserai. 

You were a huge music geek, and these were recently out. You looked around hoping to recognize something in someone’s eyes or expression, any tell-tale sign, but only found Nancy’s warm eyes; “Oh!” you exclaimed. 

In one of your many conversations with Angie’s secretary, you had gushed about one of these two albums and how much you absolutely loved Christmas, considering it was big back at home. You set the vinyls back on the box and walked towards Nancy, but before you could open your mouth, she spoke without even drifting her eyesight from the computer screen. 

“That was not me, dear.” You cocked an eyebrow up and a quizzical look took over your features. “Well - if it wasn’t you, then…” Nancy looked up at you and shrugged innocently. “I have no idea, darling. But they do seem to be paying attention to you.” With that, you decided to drop the topic and go back to work; god knows the secretary would not spill any more information. Jesus, this woman could get caught by the CIA and keep everyone’s secret’s safe, acting like she knew absolutely nada. And even when you tried to avoid your workload, you had a lot to catch up on. Yet, you found yourself looking back at the little card and reading it repeatedly during the day, smiling at the neat handwritten message.

The day passed by fairly quickly, and you were drained. Meetings, mails, getting ready for the end of the year at Angel’s Bay meant absolute mayhem, you learned. The thought of a warm cup of hot chocolate and a good Christmas movie under the warm covers of your bed, in the safety of your little flat made you yearn for the end of the shift, when you could finally relax. With that in mind, you finished typing the document you were working on and stood up from your chair, quickly making your way towards the coffee counter, eyes focused on the warm cups of chocolate that Nancy had just put down, turning towards you to gift you a soft, caring smile. You loved that woman to bits, and she knew you had been having a hard time lately. Christmas was not a day you were used to spending alone, so the thought of it had been taking a toll on you the past week. Of course, Nancy was constantly checking on you and doing small things to cheer you up - asking about your day and if you ate, to which you would roll your eyes playfully and answer while chuckling “Yes, mom”, or leaving candy canes on your desk, and now preparing your favourite thing ever; hot chocolate. She left the tray and kept walking forward towards her desk, which was right next to Angie’s office.

You grabbed the warm, white cup and the sweet smell of chocolate invaded your senses, bringing you the comfort you were looking for. There were small marshmallows on top as well, and you had to contain your excitement to avoid squealing like a little kid from the happiness it brought you. 

While you were immersed in your hot chocolate cup, you didn’t realize who was walking towards you, until your personal space seemed to be awfully invaded by a strong cologne that reeked of musk - not the good kind. You don’t know what you despised the most; the smell or the person who came along with it. 

Freaking Jack from the sales department. Another of the smug assholes who never took “no” for an answer, because his fragile ego could not take it. He’d been trying to get your attention since the first day you started working at Angel’s Bay, taking advantage of any situation he had to brag about himself - god, he was so full of himself. Today was not the exception. The rest of the girls in the office swooned over him; it was sort of like a Belle and Gastón kinda situation. Terrible, to say the least. 

You heard him clear his throat and rolled your eyes before plastering the most fake smile you could manage, turning back to look at him.

“Jack.”

“Y/N, what a coincidence” Not. 

“Yeah, well, considering we work on the same floor, I'd call it a very probable event.” You said, matter-of-factly. You knew he had spent the last 5 minutes looking around for you, and you actively avoided him. It’s not that you disliked him… No, no, it was that you disliked him. A lot.

He laughed forcibly at your statement, flashing you what should be considered a perfect grin, but instead came off as straight up weird. “Oh, aren’t you a funny one” 

Realizing how close he was, you took a few steps back, and he followed suit, playing aloof while talking about his day, not bothering to ask you about yours, until you were standing in front of the tree, and very much cornered. You hugged the mug to your chest and felt it warm your skin up, looking around nervously, meeting Nancy’s eyes and praying she saw the apprehension in yours and came in to save you from this idiot, who wouldn’t stop talking.

Speaking of the devil, you saw a sharp, mischievous smile form on his lips, and you knew he had come up with some sort of plan to make you even more uncomfortable. He had his eyes glued to the ceiling, and for a moment you thought he had just… rebooted himself. Who knows.

Following Jack’s eyes, your own gaze sat on the pointy green leaves that accompanied the white, round fruit, delicately placed with a red bow over your heads. Of course you had to be standing under the one mistletoe that was up. You mentally facepalmed as soon as your mind registered the little plant, and you regreted every single decision that had taken you to this situation.

“Well, well, well… Seems like we have found ourselves under the mistletoe, my dearest y/n”. His voice lowered in an attempt to sound seductive, and it only made you want to smack the satisfaction off of his face. He grabbed the mug from your hands and left it back on the counter, not giving you a chance to speak before talking once again. “You know what it means. And it’s tradition, lovely y/n.” 

You were at a loss for words as you felt his rough hands grab you by the waist and pull you against him, as your hands landed on his chest and you attempted to keep him away. 

“Jack - this is not funny. Back off, please.”

The rest of the office had started speaking in whispers and hushed laughs, presencing Jack’s shenanigan as if it were nothing but a simple joke. They watched amused, except for two pairs of eyes. One belonging to Nancy, of course, and the other cobalt blue pair throwing daggers with her eyes, ready to strike.

“As I said, it’s tradition, y/n. Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill. I promise you’ll like it.” He said smugly, while leaning in.

You were so lost in thinking about what to do and how to kick the man and get away from his grubby hands, you didn’t even listen to the faint clicking of heels that had sent the whole office scrambling back to their desks and work, as well as the cold silence that had taken over. You could only hear your own blood pumping in your ears, until the clicking of the heels stopped. And Jack’s face looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Such a pretty face stuck on the body of a useless man. If I were you, I would leave this instant. That is, if you wish to keep your hands.” Her words seethed with venom, eyes shining brightly and sporting a menacing look, alongside an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on dancing on her deep blue orbs. Was it hatred? Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. She stared at his hands grabbing your waist, which were quickly dropped and followed by an amount of excuses Angie was clearly not interested in listening to. 

“Listen up, boy. You better gather your things immediately and leave the building within the next 10 minutes, or you’ll suffer a much, much terrible destiny. Your reputation is already ruined as it is.” She spoke without paying mind to the man, now a stuttering mess, who left the moment she had gone silent.

You dreaded the thought of being on his spot… Until you realized you were next. “Shit.” You said quietly, breathing deeply and getting as ready as you could to confront the upcoming interaction.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A fucking mistletoe. A single piece of dangly fruit that hung over your head, reminding you of the promise it brought, mocking you with its gentle swaying. You swore that if it could talk, it’d laugh at you. One little mistletoe that had gotten you in this mess.

“Fuck - fuck fuck fuck” you thought, as your eyes tried to set on anything but the alluring woman in front of you, her red, full, pouty lips, the defined jawline and high cheekbones, the softness of her porcelain-like skin, the intensity of her cobalt eyes that added to that ethereal, almost unrealistic look - no, nope. Stop. Stop thinking about it.

You didn’t even need to look at her. Instead, your eyes were glued to the floor, which suddenly became extremely interesting. Your gaze set on anything and everything it could. You probably never payed this much attention to the rugs before, but you had decided the best idea was to count every single damn thread in it, if it meant you could avoid the situation. Still, the air seemed to thicken, and you could feel the wicked smile setting on her ruby red lips as she looked at what hung over your heads, completely understanding what it meant. Suddenly, you felt hot under that piercing stare that turned your cheeks bright red and made the shirt you were wearing feel a tad bit too tight. 

The way your name left her lips made you feel like your knees had turned to liquid, and you swore they buckled slightly. Her voice was all that was tempting in this world - sultry, velvety tone, honey-dripping. Christ, even the foulest of words would feel like a damn poem coming out of her mouth. You could only imagine what it would be like in a more intimate setting, your name leaving her lips with passion and lust. And god, you wanted to hear that prayer repeatedly. You only thought of worshipping her.

Your thoughts didn’t matter anymore - there was simply no way you’d get more flustered. She repeated your name, two, three times, before grabbing your chin in between her thumb and index finger, softly raising it, forcing you to redirect your eyes back up. You peered up at her through your eyelashes, as she dropped her hand and pushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your lips parted at the glimpse of her features, the same features that had flooded your dreams countless times. An almost inaudible sight left your mouth, and you wanted to convince yourself she had not noticed; but you knew she did, she always did. Her right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, and there was the ghost of a pleased smile on her lips, before she spoke again and broke the obvious ogling you had going on. 

Your throat felt dry and you cleared your throat to avoid the crack of your voice, because the last thing you needed was to falter in front of the one and only Angie Bouchard.

“I’m beginning to think the floor is much more interesting than listening to me, y/n. I did not know I could be so uninteresting.” She said in a scolding manner, yet there was a tint of playfulness that bathed the statement.

That was the last drop you needed, and like a dam breaking, your words spilled out quickly, without a single thought behind them. You just needed to say something.

“I - I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know there was a mistletoe and I don’t really know who put it up here but I just wanted a cup of hot chocolate and, well, you know, Jack arrived too and - I am very aware of the rules but it… it wasn’t like that I promise, I - why is there a mistletoe there? I swore it wasn’t when I got here!” your nervousness expressed itself on rambling, speaking without even taking a breath, while Angie watched clearly amused at your nervousness. She tilted her head to the left and her soft blonde hair followed the motion, falling over her shoulder until it set properly. She let out a soft chuckle that echoed in the floor, as everyone watched the exchange with curious eyes. The realization of the scene made you shut your eyes with shame and sigh defeatedly.

You didn’t know if she was about to have your head on a platter and fire you in front of everyone, scold you as if you were a five year old brat, or just leave without saying another word.

And you didn’t know what option was worse. But in between the plethora of scenes and options you ruminated, the upcoming one was definitely not in the books.

“So, tell me, did you like your gift?” She said, redirecting the conversation. You paused and narrowed your eyes at her. “Gift? What gift - wait. That was you?” Your voice had shown more shock than you would’ve liked to, but to be fair, it was pretty damn shocking. 

Angie smiled, pleased with herself and your reaction, nodding once. “I had a little help, but someone told me this festivity is quite the big deal for you…” You shook your head and recovered the words you’d been missing. “I loved it. You didn’t have to, boss.”

She rolled her eyes and softened her gaze. “Drop the formalities, darling, you can call me Angie. And I’m glad you liked it. Nancy worked hard on the decorations of the floor.”

Of course the secretary was in all of this. You giggled and hid your face in your hands, shaking your head side to side. “A little birdie, huh? So it was Nancy.”

“Well, she told me about one of the albums, and the hot chocolate. Technically, there were two little birdies. The owner of the shop told me how much time you spent there looking at Santana’s vinyl. I didn’t need to do much, one stare and the information was there, willing and able.” She shrugged unapologetically before speaking up once more. This time, the timing of her words was slower, more thought out, and felt very private. She lowered her voice and inched closer to you, the mistletoe still dancing over your heads. And you were far too aware of it, your eyes travelling up quickly, before locking back with Angie’s.

“As for the Christmas decorations… You do get loud when you speak about something you like, don’t you know that? Whether it's music, festivities, or… people.” The last word made your blood run cold and the smile dissipate from your lips - her voice dropped and seemed to be impossibly attractive, but all you could think about was the fact that Angie found out about your crush. Detail, big fat detail: your crush on her.

Considering how many times you had spoken to Nancy about your admiration for Angie, and how every single one of those times she’d tease you -“Wipe the drool from off your face, y/n” she’d lean in and whisper- either for how you couldn’t stop smiling when speaking about the blonde enchantress, how your eyes lit up when she passed by (and how you’d get flustered every single time) or for every time you looked at her a little too long, you mentally scolded yourself for doing it in front of her office. Not the smartest of moves if you’re trying to keep it a secret.

“I - Oh.”  She nodded softly and repeated your words “Yes, oh.”

The silence fell heavy between you, and the energy shifted into a tense, addicting feeling. You were sure you could feel electricity surging between both of you, and you definitely didn’t miss Angie’s eyes looking up at the mistletoe. “Ah, the infamous mistletoe. Shouldn’t we honour the tradition, then?” Her voice seemed impossibly seductive, and you were sure this is how mermaids had to speak - it was far too enticing, far too consuming.

She inched closer and snaked her arm behind your waist, pulling you in, hips snug against each other. You felt the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest, synchronizing your own breathing to hers. The proximity made you extremely nervous, and you kept breathing in her perfume, that intoxicating scent that made your brain go into overdrive and your heart beat faster. Your eyes followed the outline of her lips and marvelled at the way the light and shadow mixed and hit them, making them look even better. The lights of the tree twinkled softly and reflected on her eyes, which transformed them into the most beautiful starry sky; a universe in its own. You had gotten lost in the thought of them countless times, and here you were, staring right at them, feeling completely vulnerable and transparent, like she could read your mind. 

Her right hand travelled up to your neck, thumb, index and middle finger pressing softly on each side of it as it looked for your pulse points, not leaving the spot once they had found it. You were inches apart, and as if the teasing was already not enough, she gently pressed the first kiss on the corner of your mouth, moving to the other side, doing the same thing before putting some distance between both. “Is this okay?” She said softly. You could barely nod, absolutely immersed in the situation.

After your confirmation, she brushed your lips against hers before pressing them softly. You wanted to remember every sensation, the plump feeling of your lips against her, the softness of her mouth, the intoxicating scent, her electric touch. You felt her hands grab your waist and press down, her nails digging in your skin with just the right amount of pressure, and you relaxed against the kiss. 

Angie lightly slid her tongue across your bottom lip as if asking for permission, which you dutifully granted. You drew a deep, staggered breath at the surge of sensations and the heat you felt coursing your whole body. The kiss grew intense as she sucked on your lips and a shallow hum escaped her, completely pleased at the feeling she evoked on you and how you felt.

She tasted like a sweet, addicting nectar. And right then and there, you knew there was nothing you’d crave more in your life. Nothing that felt more right than this. Her body responded to yours and they moulded perfectly together, your primal needs clawing its way to the surface, and begging, begging you to not let her go. And so, your hands locked behind her slender neck, pulling her impossibly closer. They moved towards her face and caressed her cheek softly.

You swore you could feel your heart push through your chest as Angie’s left hand left your waist, which immediately missed the pressure and warmth of her touch, travelling through your upper body to set roots on top of your fastly beating heart. You felt so alive - and she felt it too, smiling through the kiss at the amount of power she held over your fragile heart, knowing, deeply knowing, you were hers. Her nails raked over your heart as she bit down on your lower lip and growled, “mine”. And there was simply no way you could ever contradict that statement, for the woman had been the owner of your heart since the moment you set eyes on her. 

The tidal wave of lust that had washed over both of you slowly started to set once you parted from the kiss to allow air into your burning lungs. Still dazed from the experience, you were sure you’d wake up from the dream at any given second. Angie’s thumb still ran across your lips reassuringly, her pupils blown wide, black against cobalt blue with shimmering lights reflecting from the tree. All danger, adventures and strong desire, a reckless sea, a new odyssey - and with all the trouble it might come, you knew it was absolutely worth it. 

Exhaling and taking a step back from you - which made you miss her warmth immediately - the blonde woman intertwined your fingers with hers, squeezing your hand before looking back at the rest of the office, which had seen the exchange and were staring slack-jawed.

“I do not like it when people touch things that belong to me. Good thing I put up that mistletoe and everyone knows who you belong to, now.” She winked at you, and before you could open your mouth to protest, shut you up by pressing one last soft kiss to your lips.  Angie hummed in approval while assessing the messy red tint on your mouth; her work made her chest fill with pride, before wiping the red stains from your mouth as best as she could, although she liked the view, the mark she’d left on you. Somehow hers didn’t seem messy at all.

Before you realized, Angie was walking towards your desk, pulling you along with her, ignoring the staring and whispers. Confused, you followed like a lost puppy. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she took to you, without thinking about it.

“Grab your things, darling. We’re not done yet.” She purred. 

You were completely entranced, and stumbled over your desk to grab your things, as she stared amused at your clumsiness. Once you had your coat, bag and gift, you looked at the muse in front of you and waited for instructions. She went into her office and gathered her purse and car keys, before saying goodbye to Nancy. You did the same thing, earning a sly smile from the old lady behind the computer. 

“Take the rest of the day, Nancy. Go enjoy it with your family.” Angie said, sauntering towards the door with a hand possessively set on your waist. You were sure you’d faint if she kept this going.

“Well, dear. What is it that we’re going to do to enjoy our first Christmas together?” She spoke while turning the car on. You held onto those words like a promise, like an oath, and giggled at the thought of what a little plant could do.

[katcoquette]

Home

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x wife!Reader

masterlist | taglist

summary: requested by anon! you're worried your husband might miss the birth of your first baby, but instead you get a sweet reunion after months apart.

★ word count: 1.4k

★ tw: pregnancy

★ author's note: idk if I even want children but I would for this man & this was such a cute request thank you <;3

You hadn’t seen your husband in months.

Although it wasn’t unusual for him to be on assignment for months at a time, you were usually allowed to go with him- he’d spend weeks training, still coming home to you every night, and you’d only be apart for a few days when the actual mission was taking place- but this time was different.

He’d told you it was highly classified, and he was being forced to leave a three-month pregnant (and extremely upset) you at home.

The details were sparse, the time frame vague, and you hadn’t been able to talk to him more than a handful of times in the four months he’d already been gone.

To say you were miserable would be an understatement- you were hormonal, worried, scared, and you missed him more than anything. On particularly hard days, you’d spend hours feeling sorry for yourself, cursing the navy for forcing your husband to miss out on so many of your firsts.

Your first child, your first pregnancy, finding out the sex of your baby (which was sitting in an envelope in your nightstand- you refused to do that without him), and several other firsts you’d wished he could be there for.

You were in the middle of one of these pity parties when you heard a knock on the door. You groan, dragging yourself out of bed to answer, and open the door to see two smiling faces standing on the other side.

“Mrs. Bradshaw.” Jake grins, walking past you to set your mail that he’d collected on the table. “You’re looking chipper this morning.” He notes sarcastically, making a noise when Natasha hits his arm, which you appreciate. You shut the door behind them and collapse onto the couch.

“I’m almost eight months pregnant, Jake, and it’s the middle of summer. I’m fucking miserable.” You rest your head on Natasha’s shoulder when she sits down next to you and look up at Jake where he’s standing in your living room.

“What are you two doing here? I thought we had planned tomorrow? Or am I mixing things up again?”

“Taskforce decided to stop by a day early. In the area and all of that.” Jake smiles, and you’re sure he’s hiding something as he sits down in the chair across from you.

Bradley had enlisted his friends in a ‘taskforce’ to check in on you while he was gone, and they’d had a field day with it. The officialness of it all was highly amusing to them and to you, (because why wouldn’t they check on you anyway?) and the joke had taken off from there.

You roll your eyes, letting a smile peek onto your lips. “Right. Right.” You hum, then gesture to your posture on the couch. “Well as you can see, I’m doing great.”

He chuckles, “I always knew you were my favorite.”

This causes a full smile to grace your lips. “I really do appreciate you guys looking out for me.” You squeeze Natasha’s hand, and she smiles back at you.

“We don’t mind at all, Y/N. You’re family.” She assures you.

You nod, and she follows up with a question, “How are you actually doing?”

You sigh, resting your hand on your growing stomach. “It’s been hard. I’m worried he’s not gonna be back in time. I mean what then? It’s bad enough to be going through the pregnancy without him, he’d be heartbroken if he missed the birth.”

At this, Natasha shares a look with Jake. You notice immediately and sit up straighter. “You two know something, don’t you?”

“Wellll…” Jake starts.

It doesn’t take long for you to convince them to spill their classified information: you pull the pregnancy card, shed a few tears that they see right through but kindly pretend they don’t, and then they’re swearing you to secrecy.

He’d be home in a week.

༛ ༛ ༛༛

The next week was one of the busiest of your life. You got the official notification two days ago, and now you were standing with a few other families in the hanger.

You fan yourself with the envelope anxiously, waiting for him to land. When you see the jets fly overhead, you stuff the envelope into your back pocket.

And then the engines are cutting.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your movements stop as you see the canopy of his jet open. You’re frozen in place, a sob threatening to escape from your throat at any second as you watch him climb down, take off his helmet, and spot you in the small crowd that had gathered to welcome their family members home.

All you can manage to do as he jogs toward you is return his smile, tears already pooling in your eyes, and hold open your arms when he reaches you. He sweeps you up into his arms, turning once before letting your feet hit the ground again.

“Bradley…” You choke out, clinging to him so tightly you’re not sure anyone would be able to pry him from you again. “Hi baby.” He says it into your hair, his head buried into your neck as you hold each other.

When you readjust your grip on him, he realizes just how relieved you are to have him back. He rubs your back soothingly, cradling your head to his shoulder as you cry.

“Hey…” He chuckles through his own tears. “It’s okay, I’m not leaving you again.” You nod, turning your head to rest it against his chest. His arms tighten around you again, and he kisses the top of your head, and you realize how much you’d missed the safety you found there.  

“Are you doing okay?” His hands move to cup your face, eyes first glancing you over, and then searching your own for any sign of deeper distress.

You nod, putting your hands over his. “I’m okay.” You confirm, and he smiles at you, satisfied with your answer. “Good.” He squishes your cheeks together, making you laugh.

And then he’s kissing you. If one kiss could heal all the pain from your months without him, it would be this one.

He only pulls away enough to allow him to speak, resting his forehead against yours. “I missed you more than anything, sweetheart.” He runs his hands up and down your arms, and even though the heat was pushing 90 degrees, you still get goosebumps.

He takes your hands and holds them out, putting some space between the two of you.

“Let me get a look at ya.” He grins, and looks you up and down, focusing in on your bump that had grown significantly in his absence. He gingerly places a hand there, “I missed you too.” You can feel your baby shift, and then a soft kick hits against his palm.

He looks up from your stomach in awe, and you smile softly. “We both missed you, so so much.” You press another kiss to his lips, and then it’s your turn to inspect him as he takes off the rest of his gear.

“And you’re okay too? You’re not hurt?” He shakes his head, “No, everything’s good.” He pulls you back into his arms, sighing contently. “We did it. Not too bad, huh?” He jokes.

“Speak for yourself.” You tease back, and he laughs. “God, that was too long. I missed out on so much.”

“But you didn’t miss the most important part.” You remember the envelope in your back pocket and pull it out, holding it between both of your faces. “And I saved this part for you.” He smiles, plucking it out of your hands. “I was wondering what that was.” He winks.

He’s barely opened the envelope before he’s realizing what it is. “Is this?” You nod, moving under his arm to his side so you can open it together. You hold his hand on your shoulder as both of your eyes scan the page, and you spot the news at the same time.

A gasp leaves your lips as you look up to see an affectionate smile on your husband’s face. “I had a feeling.” He says softly. You glance back down to confirm one more time, finger brushing over the words on the page.

“Our little family.” He breathes out, bending his arm so you’re tucked back into his chest, and pressing another kiss to your head, whispers “I love you.”

With the paper in your hand, and more tears in your eyes, you throw your arms over his shoulders, and kiss him. “I love you too.”

“Let’s go home.”

taglist: @gcldtom @picked-off-by-barzal @sarahghae @lucianaasf @strawb3rrydr3ss @pennbii @owenniasstars @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @oliviah-25 @classygirlything21 @theliterarybeldam @littlebadariell @averyhotchner @kyramaximoff @rosie-posie08 @teti-menchon0604 @shaded-recs @choochoo284

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 12

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.4k

Chapter 11 | Masterlist

For the first week I was lost. The only reason I really got up was to feed Calypso which is what I named my new fish or to eat. I was still upset with Jake, or myself.I didn’t quite know. Part of me wants to ask him, but I couldn’t get a hold of him even if I wanted to. The other part of me is screaming that it’s not my fault he’s mad at me. He couldn’t be mad that I went to Phoenix’s. I left because of him and Kelly and I didn’t force him to lay on the couch and wait for me. But every day while I lay here I can’t help but think I did something wrong, and that’s the reason he didn’t wake me up. That I did something that pissed him off to the point he didn’t want to see me before he left for six weeks. My emotions were everywhere. One minute I was angry, the next I would cry, and sometimes I just didn’t care. If he didn’t want to see me, I don’t want to see him. There was one point for all of an hour I considered moving out but that was shot down quickly when I realized that I had no money, all of my friends were gone besides Kelly, and I probably couldn’t make it on my own if I tried. I finally dragged myself out of the bed roughly a week after they were deployed and went downstairs for lunch, seeing as I slept through breakfast. That’s another thing I realized, my sleep schedule is all out of whack. I usually get up when Jake gets back from his morning run, but without him here, I’ve been sleeping till all hours of the day. Once downstairs I opened the fridge and peered inside. I glanced through it and the freezer, finding we really only had vegetables and things for sides. No real food. 

I huffed and realized I had to go to the grocery store. So I stormed upstairs, pissed that my plans changed so suddenly. I didn’t want to go anywhere today. I wanted to stay here and finish up my last book and maybe find a movie to watch, but now I had to go to the damn store. I took what I thought was a quick shower, it was actually forty-five minutes. I was losing all sense of time. A simple shower and getting ready should only take me an hour or so, especially now that my hair is shorter. But it took me two hours to get ready. I simply blow dried my hair, put on some mascara in hopes I’d feel normal, and slipped on a light blue t-shirt dress. It was so hot outside today, I couldn’t even imagine wearing pants. I grabbed my glasses and slid them on before making my way downstairs. Jake told me a few days before he left that he was leaving me his credit card. I know he told me he was leaving it in one of the cabinets, tucked away but I couldn’t find it. I shoved my hand in every cabinet and even grabbed the step stool to look up on the top shelves. I was pretty sure Jake wouldn’t put it up that high but I had to check. 

I still hadn’t found it and I was so frustrated I could’ve screamed. I looked under the stack of mail, moved things around on the counter, wondering if it fell and after half an hour I still hadn’t found it. Rage bubbled within me. Where the hell did he fucking put it? It’s not like I could call him and ask where it was. I let out a yell of frustration and became even more angry when I saw the card and a note on the other side of the kitchen, tucked between the coffee pot and the wall. “I don’t know why the fuck he thought that was a good idea.” I sneered, slamming my hand down on the card and tucking it in my wallet before looking at the note. ‘Get whatever you want or need, darlin’. Plenty of money on it.’ I scoffed, crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash can. Darlin’ my ass. Even the nice words and the name pissed me off. I grabbed his truck keys and my purse before making my way out to his truck. I got in and shut the door, turning the ignition. The vents blasted hot air at first but then cooled down pretty quick. “Fucking mountain.” I remarked as I slowly moved the seat closer to the steering wheel. Once I was all situated I backed out of the driveway and drove out of the little neighborhood and towards the store. I was still mad, so much so I turned the radio off completely. I usually blast music but I just needed a silent drive. I was heading for the closest little market which was about fifteen minutes away. I didn’t want to be out longer than necessary. 

I leaned my elbow on the door and propped my head up as I pulled up to a red light. I sat there, waiting forever for the light to change and looked out my window. The car next to me looked slightly familiar, the silver color reflecting the sun off of it and into my eyes. But as I leaned over I caught sight of the familiar face of my mother. Thankfully, Jake’s truck sat higher than her car so as she looked out the passenger window she only saw the black exterior of the truck. I slammed back in my seat, hoping she didn’t just see me. My heart thudded in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut as I attempted to calm myself. The honking of a horn made my eyes fly open and I slammed my foot on the gas, speeding off. Seeing my mother made me realize that I was about to go to the same grocery store as her and I quickly changed where I was heading. I drove an additional twenty minutes to the target on the north end of San Diego and felt a little better. I knew my parents never traveled farther than they had to, but I still felt uneasy. I walked into the store, opting for coffee from starbucks before I started my shopping. Although, coupled with the anxiety I just experienced it was probably a bad idea. But I didn’t care. I took my large coffee cup and grabbed a buggy before turning for the back of the store where the food sat. 

I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder occasionally, fearing one of my parents would be right behind me. I grabbed things such as ground beef, chicken, pasta, a few microwave or one pot meals. I took my time, scouring the aisles for anything I may need or want. As one person, cooking big meals was almost a waste so finding ways to cook single servings was the best way to go. With Jake I could make a full meal and he’d eat over half by himself. I left the grocery section, heading straight over to the book section and looked around every aisle. I found a few books that piqued my interest, one of them was called Twisted Love and the other, A Court Of Thorns and Roses. I was into older romance stories, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, The Princess Bride but I felt like I should try something else. So I went for a more modern romance and a fantasy. I thought back to Jake’s note, ‘Get whatever you want or need.’ Smirking, I grabbed a few others that seemed interesting and went to check out. Once I paid I loaded everything into the car and decided to stop at Five Guys for a burger, fries and a milkshake and rushed home. The closer I got to the house, the more nervous I got. Seeing my mom made me realize I didn’t go far. Bumping into them is very much a real threat and now I understand why Jake was cautious about where he took me. 

Once I was home I rushed to get everything inside and locked the door behind me. I sighed in relief, knowing I was home and there was no way I could bump into my mother. Once everything was put away I sat on the couch with my food, deciding to eat while I watched a movie. One Natasha suggested was the Princess Bride. I had read the book dozens of times but I had never seen the movie. So I sat, ate and attempted to forget my mothers face. I thought I was totally safe here, but it’s not like I ran off to another country, I basically ran down the road. But as I sit here, a full stomach and my sweet tooth curbed, I can’t help but worry that my parents really know where I am. I tried to not worry, but it seems to be something I’m good at. Halfway through the movie I decided to lay down on the couch, maybe a nap would do me good. As the movie was coming to a close I could feel the exhaustion creeping in on me.

A loud bang woke me up and I jumped up in fear. The banging was coming from the front door, I could see it shaking from the force. I stared at it as I slowly stood from the couch, making my way over the window. I moved the curtains and the blinds only to see blackness. It was the type of black you see in underground tunnels and caves, you can’t see your hand in front of your face, the type that seeps into your bones and scares you to the core. I couldn’t even see the white railings that lined the front porch. The banging continued and I walked over,standing on my toes to look out the peephole. As I did so the banging stopped but I looked out the peephole to once again, find blackness. I sighed and lowered myself off my toes just as the wood on the door splintered and a large hand came through, grabbing the front of my dress and slamming me face first into the door before letting me go. I fell to the floor scrambling away from the door as the hand reached for the locks and turned them. The door slowly swung open to reveal my father. Everything was silent, save for my heaving breaths as I tried to breathe and fight the tears back. He simply stood there and I took the opportunity to get up and run. I went for the back door but it was gone. Why was it gone?! The garage door through the kitchen was gone as well and I panicked, rushing for the stairs. I would go into my room and lock the door before scaling down the lattice by my window. But as I started up the stairs my father was suddenly before me. His hand shot out before smacking me clear across the face and sending me head first into the banister before tumbling backwards down the stairs. 

Pain blossomed across my face as I sat up with a yell. I pulled my hand away to see blood on it and the carpet. “Oh, it was just a dream.” I sighed out. I heard my phone buzz and saw it was a facetime from Bradley. Excitement swelled within me and I immediately answered. “Hang on.” I called, standing and rushing to the bathroom with my phone. “Well hello to you too.” He remarked. “Everything okay?” He asked. “Yeah, I just had a nightmare and I’ve seemed to roll off the couch and I hit my nose on the coffee table.” I answered as I wiped the blood from my face. “Let me see?” He asked and I sighed, propping up the phone so he could see me. “Damn.” That’ll probably bruise.” He said. “I know.” It went quiet for a moment before he spoke up. “What was the nightmare about?” He asked. “My dad broke in. All the doors disappeared so I was forced up the stairs…” I trailed off. “Then he smacked me and sent me backwards down the stairs. I must’ve been moving around a lot on the couch and fell off, smacking my face on the coffee table.” I said. 

“How often do you have nightmares?” He asked. “I haven’t had them in a few weeks. But…” He raised a brow at me. “But what?” He asked. I chewed on my bottom lip. “I went to the store today and when I stopped at a red light… I saw my mom.” He was silent, his lips pursed in a line and I couldn’t quite tell his emotions. “Are you sure it was her?” He asked and I nodded. “One hundred percent positive.” “And did she see you?” He asked and I shook my head. “I don’t think so. At least, she didn’t look right at me.” I said. “Good.” He said and I walked out of the bathroom and into my room where I flopped down onto my bed. “Woah, your bed’s not made?” He asked and I shook my head. “Nope.” I was usually uptight about my bed. It had to be made or else I wouldn't sleep good. Sleeping in an already messy bed stressed me out for some reason. “Katie? How long have you been in bed?” He asked and a blush crept up my cheeks. “Don’t lie to me.” He added. “Today was the first day I really got up.” I answered. “God. Hangman is gonna lose his mind.” He said and I sat up. “You aren’t gonna say shit to him.” I said and he raised a brow. “He doesn’t get to know every little thing that’s going on with me, especially since he left without waking me, saying goodbye, nothing.” I spat. 

“I’m sensing some anger.” He said. “If you were getting deployed, and you asked someone if you should wake them up the next morning to go to the docks with you or at least say goodbye, would you do it?” He raised a brow as if that was a dumb question. “Of course I would.” He answered before he gasped. “Jake didn’t say goodbye.” I shook my head. “No, he didn’t and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s mad at me. But I didn’t force him to sleep on the couch and wait for me to come home.” I had started pacing at this point, my phone propped up on my pillow so he could see me. “Wait, what am I missing?” He asked and I realized he probably has no idea what I’m talking about. I flopped onto the bed, lying on my stomach as I looked at my phone. “The night before you guys left, I heard Jake and Kelly… having sex.” His eyebrows shot up. “That’s weird, Hangman says Kelly is always worried someone would hear and he can hardly get her to say a word in bed.” I brushed it off. “Yeah, well she didn’t seem to care that night. But I went to Natasha's for a while. I felt like I was intruding but I came back home really late and he was asleep on the couch.” Bradley hummed and nodded. “He didn’t seem mad when he got up. He asked if I wanted him to wake me up before he left and I said yes, but then I woke up and y’all were long gone.” I said, letting my head fall to my mattress. 

“Katie, I don’t think he did it out of spite.” He said and I huffed. “Then why else would he leave without saying goodbye? It makes no sense!” He shrugged. “I-I don’t know. It’s so unlike him.” He said and I heard a door open on his end. I sniffled, wiping my tears before they fell. “Aw, Katie. Don’t cry, please.” He said and I sat up, sitting cross legged in front of my phone. “Katie?” I groaned as I heard Jake’s voice on the other end. “What’s wrong? C’mon darlin’, talk to me!” He said and I scoffed, scowling and I flipped my phone face down on the comforter. “Katie?” Jake called. “What the fuck did you do to her?” I assume his question was towards Bradley. “What did I do? I think you might want to be asking yourself that, bagman.” Bradley snapped back. “Me?!” He asked, shocked. “Katie, darlin’. Talk to me please.” I knew it was childish, the way I was acting, but I knew if I even looked at him I would give in. “Katie, c’mon. You’re scaring me, I’m worried.” 

I grabbed the phone, flipping it over and glaring at him through the screen. He seemed to notice the anger in my eyes and leaned back in surprise. “Oh, you’re worried? Bless your heart.” I said before setting my phone back down. “Wha-You-” He stumbled over his words until he found the right ones. “You don’t get to insult me like that!” He called out and I rolled my eyes. “This is my call with her you know, not yours.” I grabbed my phone again. “Yeah, this is mine and Bradley’s call. So why don’t you find something else to do, without saying goodbye.” I snapped and Bradley snickered at Jake’s confusion. “What?” Bradley laughed at him. “Just leave us alone, Jake. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I said and Bradley snatched the phone. “Yeah, she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” He said, walking out of his and Jake’s room. “You know he’s going to pout all day.” He said and I rolled my eyes. “Let him. Like I care.” I spat and he just grinned at me. “You know you care.” He said and while I wouldn’t admit it, I do hate making Jake feel bad but I’m so angry with him. “Can we change the subject?” I asked and he nodded with a smile. “Wanna see something?” He asked and I nodded. He turned the phone around and I saw a beautiful view of the ocean and what seemed to be a sun rise. “Oh my god.” I gasped out. “Bradley, it’s beautiful.” I said and he turned the phone back around, a giant grin on his face. “Isn’t it?” He asked and I nodded. 

“Hey, Bradley?” I asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. "Why did you use your call on me?" I asked and he just smiled. "Truth?" I nodded. "I've never had anyone to call on deployments." My heart broke for him. I could never imagine being so far away for so long and never having anyone to call and talk to. "I knew Hangman would use his calls to talk to Kelly, so I wanted to call you. Keep you updated, and just talk to you." He said with a grin. "With an answer like that, Jake may believe you really do have romantic feelings for me." I joked and he laughed. "If it gets him to admit his own feelings then good!" I gave him a small smile. "He doesn't have feelings for me, Rooster. Besides, if he did he wouldn’t have left without at least leaving a note.” I said. “You just don’t see it.” I scoffed. “See what? The way he looks at his girlfriend?” I asked, chuckling at the end. “I’m telling you, Katie. There’s something there.” I rolled my eyes at him and we continued our conversation, without the mention of Jake. Once we were done I went upstairs and got ready for bed. My nose still hurts from my fall and I’m sure I would have a nasty bruise just like Bradley said. But thankfully, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it is not broken. As I laid in bed that night I couldn’t help but realize some of my anger had faded away. Jake telling me he was worried, made me a little pleased. It was so easy for me to give in to him and all because of my own stupid feelings. But I couldn’t just let this go so easily, couldn’t be weak. My thoughts cast me off into sleep, one that thankfully was nightmare free. 

I spent the next few days reading and trying to think of what else to do with my time. I had my next therapy session in two weeks and I quickly remembered I told Dr. Davis I would apply to some nursing programs. So I spent a few days applying to a few programs, ones that I would have a decent chance of getting in. The thought of going back to school scared me, but I knew that I would regret not even trying. I was cleaning a few days later, about a week after Bradley called me when the doorbell rang. I froze in the middle of my mopping and looked out of the kitchen and towards the front door. I slowly stalked forwards, standing on my toes and looking out the peephole. I was relieved to see Kelly’s face, looking straight at the door so I swung it open with a large smile. “Hi!” I greeted cheerfully. She gave me a small smile and stepped inside. She hung up her purse like usual and walked into the kitchen. “Oh! Be careful! I was in the middle of mopping!” I called, following after her. She didn’t seem to notice nor care as she traipsed across the clean floors and opened the fridge. “No beer?” She asked and I shook my head. “I don’t drink it.” I said. “Well Jake does.” I nodded, a little caught off guard by her stern tone. “Well he finished the last of them before he left and I plan to get some closer to the time of him coming home.” I responded as she pulled out a water bottle.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked and she hummed. “Is Jake mad at me?” I asked. She pursed her lips, sighing. “I wouldn’t say mad. More annoyed.” My face and hopes fell. “Oh…” I said. “It’s just… you’re always around.” She said. “We keep trying for alone time and you’re just there. Like the night before he shipped out. We had to change up everything so as not to disturb you and you still left.” I bit my lip, looking down at my bare feet. “I’m sorry. If you had asked me to leave I would’ve.” I replied. “But we shouldn’t have to.” She snapped and my head hung even more if possible. “You just follow Jake around like a lost puppy and it’s even getting on my nerves.” She said and I furrowed my brows. “Does it bother Jake?” I asked. “Of course it bothers him!” She said loudly. “It bothers the both of us.” I opened my mouth to reply but didn’t know what to say. “Maybe it’s time you find somewhere else to live.” She said and I could practically feel myself go pale. “I think I'd rather talk to Jake about this.” I said, standing tall. “It is his house and he did invite me to stay… So I’ll talk to him about it.” She scoffed. “He’s going to tell you the same thing I just did. Better to leave before he gets home and avoid the awkwardness.” She grinned at me and all the anger that I’ve had pent up came to the surface. My fists clenched at my sides, my nails making crescent shapes in my palms. 

“Is that all you have to say?” I asked, the anger evident in my voice. She just grinned at me. “Did I strike a nerve?” She asked mockingly. “Yeah. You fucking did.” She seemed surprised by my honesty. “I don’t know what kind of satisfaction you’re getting from coming here and telling me these things, but you're done.” I snapped. “It’s not your house.” She said, taking a step closer. “It’s not yours either.” Her face fell. She thought she was clever. “Now please leave.” Her eyes glanced at my fists and she noticed the shaking. “I will leave you with this reminder. Jake is my boyfriend and you will never take him from me.” I scoffed in her face. “And I’ll leave you with a reminder. The world does not revolve around you and I don’t want your fucking boyfriend. You can keep him and I hope that you have the life you deserve with him.” I sneered. “Now leave.” She stood before me, her face mere inches from my own. Her breath fanned against my face and I could smell alcohol. “And brush your fucking teeth when you get home. That’s disgusting.” Her hand immediately flew to her mouth before she stormed towards the door. She grabbed her purse from the hook but it got caught and instead of lifting it, she yanked it and the force pulled the board with the hooks off the wall. “Fuck you!” I yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “Now I have to clean this shit up.” 

A few hours later I had cleaned everything up and finished the rest of the house before pouring myself a glass of wine. Before I could even take my first sip my phone started ringing and as I lifted it, Jake’s name flashed across the screen. I slammed it down on the table and stared at it. I took a sip and was going to let it continue to ring, but decided to answer at the last second. “Hey, darlin’.” He said with a big smile and I propped my phone up. “We need to talk.” My voice was stern and it shocked him. “What happened to your nose? What’s going on?” He asked. “My nose doesn’t matter. If you wanted me gone Jake, you should’ve fucking told me. What did you just want a house sitter while you were gone? Just decided to wait till you came home to tell me to find somewhere else to live?” I snapped. “What are you talking about?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Don’t play dumb. Kelly told me how I was getting on your nerves and that I need to find somewhere else to live.” His eyebrows shot up and he leaned back slightly. “Woah! Hold on!” I shook my head. “No! You should’ve told me! If you want me gone, if you’re mad that I’m interrupting your alone time with your girlfriend, you should’ve told me!” I yelled out as I stood. “I can be reasonable if you’re honest with me! But dammit, Jake! I have spent so much of my life around lies, I can’t just let that go!” “Katie. Darlin’-” “Don’t fucking call me that.” I interrupted and he nodded. “Katie. I never lied to you and I never would. I don’t know what Kelly was saying, but I sent her over there to check on you.” 

“She sure checked in! Busted up in here and told me all about how I was wrecking your relationship and that I needed to find somewhere else to live, and how you’re her boyfriend and I will never steal you from her. Newsflash, I don’t fucking want you.” I snapped. Saying that to Kelly didn’t phase me, but saying it to Jake, that hurt. “Wait what?” He asked loudly. “Yeah. So you get your wish. I won’t be here when you get home.” I said. “No! Katie? Katie please!” He yelled as I stood up. “What?” If steam could be rolling out of my ears, I'm sure it would. I was shaking. I was so mad. But also upset. I should've known better than to hold out hope that this would work out. Nobody can handle you. You run every one off. “Darlin’, please. Don’t leave.” His eyes were misty as tears filled them and a part of me felt bad. “Please. Don’t leave.” Was he… begging? “Why shouldn’t I?” I asked. “Because whatever Kelly said, it’s a lie. I didn’t lie, she is.” I furrowed my brows. “You’re calling your own girlfriend a liar?” I asked, surprised. “Yes. Because she’s lying. I don’t want you to leave. Katie, if anything I never want you to leave. I’ve grown so used to having you in the house and I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Wh-why don’t you stay there and we’ll talk when I get home.” I sat back, huffing. “Jake-” “Katie. Please.” He said sternly. “Please, just stay.” My jaw tensed. “I will be here when you get home. But we are having a talk that day, no putting it off.” He nodded. “Good. Great!” He said. “But if I want to leave, you won’t stop me.” I said and his face fell. “If I stay we have to have a serious talk about what we’re gonna do moving forward because I am so fucking tired of assuming you’re angry with me everytime I turn around.” I said, tears of my own forming. “Katie, I’ve never been remotely angry with you.” He said and I sighed. “Let’s talk when you come home. I’m exhausted.” I said and he nodded. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll see you in four weeks.” He said. “Bye, Jake.” He barely said goodbye before I hung up and chugged the entire glass of wine. This was going to be a long four weeks. I thought before getting up and grabbing the bottle. “Might as well keep this nearby.” I muttered as I strolled over to the couch, flopping down on it. 

The following week was my therapy appointment and as soon as I sat down in Dr. Davis’ office, my leg was shaking. “I’m sorry I was late. I can’t seem to get myself together lately.” I said and she shook her head. “No! It’s okay, it was one minute!” She said but I couldn’t help but feel like she was actually upset with me. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m not upset or frustrated with you if that’s what you're asking.” She said. “Do you often feel like people are upset with you?” She asked and I nodded. “Let’s talk about that.” I explained everything, from my parents constantly being upset with me, to feeling like Jake is angry with me. We had started EMDR which was a little weird at first. My eyes were closed and I was tapping my knees in a steady rhythm, “I didn’t tell him why I thought he was mad.” She hummed and immediately I felt nauseous. “Are you okay?” She asked as I opened my eyes. “No, I feel nauseous.” She nodded, jotting some stuff down. “You seem to feel everything physically. The dizziness, the nausea.” She said and I took a few deep breaths, the nausea slowly subsiding.

“How do you feel about the situation with Jake now?” She asked. “It’s an eight.” She nodded. “Good! We started at a ten and we’ve already gotten it down to an eight! Just remember you may not feel like this is resolved until you talk to him.” I nodded. “Now, let’s talk about nursing school.” She said and I practically jumped in my seat. “Yes! I applied to three programs!” She smiled. “Good, which ones?” She asked and I told her. “Those aren’t very respected schools. Their graduation rates are low.” She said. “Yeah but… I struggle in school, a lot, and I think these are the only ones that will take me.” She shook her head and started writing. “I want you to apply to these two schools.” She said and handed me the paper. “San Diego State University, University of San Diego? These are the best schools in the city.” She nodded. “I don’t think I’ll get in.” She just smiled at me. “You’ll never know until you try.” She said and I stared at the paper. Once I apply to these two I will have applied to five. “What if I don’t get into any of them?” I asked. “Then we’ll figure out what to do in the meantime and if you want, you can apply again next year.” With that my session was over and I walked out to the truck, the paper clutched in my hand. Once I got in and got the air flowing I looked down at it. “She’s crazy to think I will get in.”

I set the paper down on the table when I got home. I couldn’t think about it right now, my mind was swirling between Jake, the Kelly issue and school. I decided to get lost in a book, I decided to open up Twisted Love. Maybe a little romance will make me feel better. I laid on the couch as I read and had wine and pizza for dinner. It took me a few days to work up the courage to apply and it was Bradley who convinced me too. “So why haven’t you applied?” He asked as I sat on the couch eating a sandwich. “What if I don’t get in?” I asked. “Sounds like a dumb reason to not apply.” He said, making me frown. “You think?” I asked and he nodded. “I know. You should apply! If they say no then you can always apply again next year.” He said and I sighed. “But what will I do if I don’t get in? I can’t just sit around and wait a whole year.” He chuckled. “We’ll figure something out. Why don’t you just do it?” He asked. “I guess I really don’t have a reason not to.” He nodded. “If anything, you have every reason to do it.” He was right. “Okay, I’ll do it once we get off the phone.” I said. “Just so you know, Jake has been pouting since your call.” He said and I giggled. “You haven’t told him?” I asked and he grinned at me. “Absolutely not. I’m enjoying this way too much.” He said. “Has he asked?” He nodded. “At least once a day, and when he realized I knew why you were mad he’s taken to practically begging me to tell him.” I giggled at his words. 

“Well I guess it’s almost time for you to go to bed.” He said as I yawned and then I nodded. “Yeah, but I’m gonna send in those two applications before I go to bed.” I said. “You sure you’re not too tired?” He asked and I nodded. “I’ll sleep better if I go ahead and send them in. They’ve been stressing me out every time I think about them.” I said. “Makes sense. Well I’ll let you send those in and I’ll call you next week.” He said. “Alright. Bye, Bradley.” I said and he waved before the call ended. I took a deep breath before going upstairs and going into Jake’s room. It smelled like him and always made me feel better. I snagged his laptop that he’s been allowing me to use and went downstairs. I sat on the couch for an hour sending these two in before I got ready for bed. I put Jake’s laptop back in his room and turned to leave but I stopped in the doorway. Smelling his cologne brought me comfort and I hadn’t been sleeping the best. Maybe I could just snag one of his shirts. I made my way to his dresser and opened the drawer, it was mostly boxers and socks so I closed it and opened the one below it. 

I found a burnt orange longhorn shirt and it smelled strongly of Jake. Is it weird for me to wear his shirt? “It’ll be washed and back in his drawer before he ever gets home.” I took the shirt into my room and slipped it on. I looked in my mirror and honestly, I looked good in his shirt and white thong. If Kelly ever found out she’d lose it, but who gives a fuck what she thinks anymore. I crawled into bed and grabbed my book again. I was about halfway through the book and was growing tired until I read the words, ‘On your knees.’ My face burned and I closed the book. “Did I just read that?” I had never read smut before and part of me felt embarrassed. The other part of me had to continue. So I opened the book back up and read on. My entire body was burning as I read and with the smell coming from the shirt I had on, I could only think of Jake and I. Specifically, Jake and I in this situation. An entire weekend hidden away to do nothing but explore each other’s bodies. “Oh my god.” I said, slamming the book shut. “I did not just think that.” I said before setting the book down and rolling over in bed. “I just have to put it out of my mind.” I muttered but it took forever to fall asleep, the ache between my legs was strong but finally I drifted off. But of course Jake was an ever present figure in my dream.

After that I couldn’t pick the book back up, so I started A Court of Thorns and Roses instead. But at this point I also couldn’t fall asleep without wearing Jake’s shirt, so all night his scent wafted around me and he was constantly in my dreams. It was about three days after I sent in the applications that I started receiving emails about the nursing programs. So far I was asked to come in and interview for two and as I prepared dinner, my phone dinged again with another email. I wiped my hands clean and picked up my phone. I opened the email and smiled, ‘Miss Blair, congratulations on moving on to the next stage of the application process. We would love to have you in for a panel interview next week to see if you would be a good candidate for our program.’ I squealed as I looked at the logo for San Diego State University. Between them, United States University and the University of San Diego, I had to get into one, right? I immediately sent an email to Bradley and Natasha in my excitement, but I asked them to keep it quiet. I wanted to email Jake so badly, but I was still so mad at him. I needed these few weeks to hurry by so I could get everything sorted out, but with all the dreams I’ve been having I don’t even know if I could look him in the eye anymore.

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

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[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Summary: On February 13, those over 16 receive an empty box in the mail every year. You place items in the box and they appear in your soulmate's box the following day. Until now, you haven't figured out who your soulmate is. But after an unexpected run-in with your least favorite aviator, you discover your other half may be closer than you think.

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Note: Thank you to @wildbornsiren and @green-socks for helping me work out this concept. Your advice really gave me the confidence to pursue this idea! 💖 And also thank you for beta reading, Sam! 😘

I wanted to come up with an original concept for a Soulmate AU and I have not seen one done exactly like this so I figured I would give it a shot! I would love to know what people think of it as a concept as well as the execution in the fic! 🥰

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

You couldn’t believe it was already February 13th. You had been so preoccupied lately with the last few missions, increased training, and yearly inspections that it completely slipped your mind. Yet there was no denying the date when you checked your mailbox and found a red, heart-shaped box with a ribbon tied around it. 

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath as you picked the Box up. It looked exactly the same as it did every year since it had first shown up in your mailbox when you were 16. Just as it looked the same as every other Box that magically appeared in everyone’s mailboxes on this day once they reached that age.

No one knew exactly how it happened or when it started. Some say a form of the Boxes had been around since the 1800s, while others claimed to have found mentions of something like them back in the 1500s, while some scholars tried to argue the proof of their existence as far back as the 1300s or even crude versions in Ancient Rome. But in modern times, a holiday was formed around the arrival of the Boxes, one centered on love and giving. They called it Valentine’s Day after one of the earlier mentions of the event in a poem. And every year at that time, the same thing happened all over the world.

On February 13, the Box would appear in your mailbox. When it did, you would place items into it, things that either showed off who you were or showed your love and admiration for the person about to receive what you picked out. Then, you would place the Box back into your mailbox by midnight. The next morning, the Box would still be there, but it would now be filled with different objects. Objects that your soulmate had placed in their Box the day before.

Over the years, you had received a wide variety of trinkets from your soulmate: various types of candy, love-themed stuffed animals, the occasional jewelry, a wooden rose, a well-worn baseball, a picture frame left empty just waiting for a photo to go inside it, a bottle of half-used cologne, a stack of recipes.

And every year, there was a famous love poem nestled at the bottom. You often wondered if he would write you original poetry if it was allowed, but the Boxes didn’t permit that sort of thing. Nothing handwritten or originally composed, no photographs, no business cards, no blatantly identifiable items of any kind. Anything you placed in your Box that was deemed too telling by whatever magic or energy made the Boxes work remained in your Box when you opened it the next day.

It had only happened to you once when you tried to send a pin with the Naval Academy’s logo on it the year you were accepted, but apparently, it was too much of a hint as to your identity to pass on to your soulmate. It seemed as if the Boxes wanted to help you find your soulmates, but didn’t want things to be too easy for you either.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed even louder as you realized that at this time of night, the only places in the area that might still be open were convenience stores or the Walgreens a few blocks away. However, this close to the deadline, stores like Walgreens that catered to the Boxes were usually packed with last-minute shoppers or picked clean by now. So, with a sigh, you jumped back into your truck and drove down to the convenience store at the end of the block. 

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t a wide selection to choose from. Just meaningless junk and useless items. Reluctantly, you settled on a California shot glass (broad locations were usually allowed and your soulmate had once sent the wrapper from a bottle of whiskey so you assumed he drank) and a car air freshener shaped like a heart in one of your favorite fragrances. It was pathetic, but at least it was something.

As you headed up to the sizeable check-out line, you stumbled to a stop as you recognized the man at the end of the line. You stared at the back of his head all day during briefings and meetings so even from behind, it was impossible to mistake him. For a moment, you considered waiting for him to finish checking out or even just leaving the store now without your purchase, but it was almost 11:30 pm and time was running out to get your items into your Box. So, taking a deep breath, you stepped into line.

Sensing someone approaching from behind, Hangman glanced over his shoulder and did a double take as he recognized you. He flinched slightly and his shoulders tensed, yet his usual cocky smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here. I would have thought Miss Perfect would have had her gift planned out weeks ago. Cutting things a little close there, aren’t we?”

You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest that happened anytime you were around Hangman. Ever since the day the two of you had met at the Academy, you had gotten along like oil and water. Always trying to one-up the other or prove you were the best, your interactions usually ended with some sort of heated argument or screaming match. The universe seemed to enjoy your little feud because, by some bizarre twist of fate, the two of you had ended up in the same squadron after graduation. And you were both transferred together to the next one. Then to the same class at Top Gun. And yet another joint squadron change. It was practically unheard of, and yet, since the first day of either of your careers, you had been working together. But it never lessened the antagonistic tension between you. If anything, it only got worse as time went on.

When you were in the sky, the two of you could work together in perfect harmony and despite everything, you were the perfect wingmen for one another. Yet, the moment the two of you got face-to-face on the ground, that was when things became hostile. Just like now.

Trying your best to maintain your composure, you snapped, “We’ve been out of the country for the last two weeks. When was I supposed to get anything? Besides, you’re here too.” Looking down at his hands, you rolled your eyes as you spotted the fighter jet-shaped object he was holding. “A keychain? That’s the best you can do? Wow, Bagman. Some girl out there is so lucky to have you as her soulmate.”

Hangman’s jaw clenched tightly and you could tell he was trying his best not to start cursing you out in the middle of the checkout line. Instead, he just sneered, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk. I’m sure your soulmate is going to love that tacky glass and a single air freshener.” 

You felt your cheeks growing warm as you stared daggers at him, but it wasn’t all due to anger. Though you would never admit it, you knew he was right. This was a pathetic excuse for a present for the person who was meant to be the love of your life. He always gave you such lovely, meaningful gifts and this was the best you could do? You wish there was some way to explain what happened. That this was all due to bad timing and an insanely busy schedule and that you had wanted to give him so much more. But without a way to send personal messages, this was all you could do. 

However, just because all of that was true, it didn’t mean you were going to let Hangman get away with pointing it out. Still glaring at him, you said, “As a matter of fact, I know this is exactly the sort of thing he will love. You don’t know anything about him or me outside of work, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and worry about your pathetic gift and how disappointed your soulmate is going to be in the morning.”

For a brief moment, the expression on Hangman’s face wasn’t one of anger or rage. It was one of pain. And you realized he probably felt as shitty about his gift as you did about yours. You knew there was more to Hangman than he ever revealed to the other aviators, and at this moment, you felt like for the first time you might have gotten a glimpse of this other side of him. But before you could say anything, he steeled his face once more and whirled around to face the counter without another word.

Even with his back to you, you could see he was still very upset. His broad shoulders were tensed as he stood slightly hunched over and drawn in on himself. Suddenly, you had the urge to wrap your arms around him from behind and press your face against his shoulder blades as you whispered soft apologies to make up for what you had said. But you quickly shook your head to snap yourself out of it. This was Hangman. The two of you fought more than cats and dogs. This was just how it was between you. And yet, as he finished paying and glanced quickly back at you one final time, you couldn’t help but wish you had apologized after all.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, haunted by what had happened with your run-in with Hangman and how you should have handled it differently. However, all of it was forgotten the moment you woke up and remembered what day it was. Springing out of bed, you threw on some clothes and rushed out the front door.

As much as you wanted nothing more than to run downstairs and return with your Box as quickly as you could, it just wasn’t possible. The entire building had the same thought. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment, you were met with a crowd of people all struggling to make it to the stairwell. The landlord had hired someone for each floor to attempt to control the traffic, but as usual, it was a useless endeavor. There was nothing to do but wait your turn as the horde of people slowly made their way down the stairs and to the row of mailboxes by the front door. 

When you finally made it to your mailbox and retrieved the package from inside, you hurried back upstairs with the Box clutched tightly to your chest. Some people couldn’t stand the anticipation and had ripped open their Boxes in the lobby, but you preferred to open yours in the privacy of your apartment. Luckily, getting back up was a lot quicker than getting down. The crowds had thinned as most people made it down to their mailboxes and you were able to make it back in only a few minutes.

Once inside, you leaned heavily on your door, trying to calm your excitement. You waited all year for this moment, to get just the tiniest glimpse into the person who was supposedly your other half. Yet no matter how happy you were, you couldn’t help but dread the feeling of disappointment he must be having seeing what you placed inside your box this year. You just hoped you could make it up to him next year, potentially even in person. But maybe that was too much wishful thinking. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid. The second you saw what was inside, you dropped the Box as if it had burned you, spilling the contents across the floor. Gasping, you slid down the door to the ground, your hands pressed tightly over your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Somehow the Boxes got mixed up and yours was sent to the wrong person while you received this one instead. Because this could not be your Box. 

Yet, there was no denying the truth. A piece of paper stuck out of the Box. Glancing quickly at it, you saw that it was your yearly love poem, though this one had a theme of forgiveness and doing better in the future as well as love. As in, asking forgiveness for such a crappy gift this year. Because there, peeking out from underneath the table where it had landed, was the only other item from the Box: a familiar-looking keychain shaped like a fighter jet. 

A million different explanations ran through your head as you tried to think of some rational explanation that didn’t end with your soulmate being your wingman. They probably sold these same keychains in thousands of stores across the country and maybe he finally figured out your clues and realized you were a fighter pilot. Maybe he got his pilot’s license this year and this was his way of sharing the news. Maybe he might have gone to an airshow and wished you were there with him. Or…. maybe the keychain you now held in your hand was the same one you had seen last night in the convenience store.

You had to find out for sure. There was no way you could go about your day until you had verified this was all just some big cosmic misunderstanding. So, you grabbed the keychain, your bag, your keys, and your jacket before hurrying towards the door. 

Your jacket was only half on as you threw open the door and were almost hit in the face with a fist that was in the process of knocking. Dodging back, you saw Hangman standing in the hallway, his chest heaving as if he had just run the whole way here. Glancing down, you saw that in the hand he didn’t have raised, he was holding your shot glass and air freshener. So, it was true….

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

“How?” You stumbled backward, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse. But a large hand shot out and grabbed your elbow, steadying you. Hangman had touched you many times before, yet there was something different about this time. It felt safe and comforting and it sent a small shiver across your skin. 

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay! What about this situation makes you think I’d be okay? You wanted to scream at him, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. So, you just pull your arm out of his grasp and take a few steps back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I just need a minute.” 

You hurried off into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter. Draining it in just a few gulps, you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth as you try to figure out what to do next. Your mind was running a mile a minute and all you wanted to do was to lay down in your bed, burrow under the covers, and forget this morning ever happened. However, this was not something you could just ignore for now and figure out later. Hangman was still in your living room just waiting for you to return. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

As you walked back into the living room, you saw Hangman standing by your bookcase. When you got closer, he held up the picture frame you had received in your Box a few years ago. With a wistful smile on his lips, he said, “You still have this. And you kept it empty…”

With your arms crossed tightly across your chest, you gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never had the right photo with the right person to put in it.” As you reached out to take it from him, your mind flashed to the hundreds of photos with you and Hangman people had taken over the years. “Or I guess I did and just didn’t realize it.”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

The pet name was the final straw as you felt something snap within you. “No, no, I’m sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be you. It– It just can’t be.” 

Hangman turned away but not before you saw the pain flash in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you thought you’d be paired with someone better. Someone you could at least stand to be in the same room with.” He started heading towards the door, but you jumped in front of him to stop him from leaving. 

“No, it’s not that at all. Hangm– Jake.” His head was still hung low so you took his face between your hands and turned it so he was staring at you. Taking a shuttering breath, you explained, “It can’t be you because I don’t think I can handle the fact that we’ve known each other for almost 10 years and didn’t know. That my soulmate was right in front of me this whole time and I never…. That I wasted so much time arguing and fighting with him that I never allowed myself to see him for what he truly was.”

But it didn’t matter how much you wanted things to be different. There was no denying the truth at this point. In hindsight, it all made perfect sense. That heat in your chest you felt every time Hangman walked into the room wasn’t hate at all. It was love. Love you thought you could never have so you used it to fuel your anger towards him. You had turned the magnetic pull between you into something ugly and bitter all because you were hurt he could never be yours. And because of that, you almost ruined everything. 

Jake must have seen the tears forming in your eyes and the way your lip trembled as you tried to hold it together because his pained expression softened into one of understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He softly took your arm and drew you into his chest. The gesture was so tender and soft that you couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears began to pour down your cheeks as you buried your face into his shoulder. Jake’s hand gently caressed your back, rubbing small, soothing circles across it while you sobbed. And it felt so right. The hot feeling you got in your chest whenever Hangman was around spread throughout you and when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of your head, you thought you might explode.

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

So, you lifted your head slightly, and whispered, “The worst part is, I know it’s you. I’ve known since the minute I first saw you back at the Academy. Sitting in class with that stupid toothpick in your mouth and the big ol’ grin on your face. You were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and I instantly fell for you. For a moment, I even let myself imagine you might be my soulmate.” You tilted your head up to look him squarely in the face. “But when I asked you about one of the poems my soulmate had sent me, you said you’d never heard of it.”

Hangman smiled softly with a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “I remember that day perfectly. You walked up to introduce yourself and when I saw you, I couldn’t breathe. You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen and your voice… When you mentioned the poem, I had a momentary flash of hope that it could be you. But it was a really popular poem and one I had sent a few years before, so I just figured it was wishful thinking. And I couldn’t admit it right then anyway. Because with her – with you – I was Jake. As open and real and vulnerable as I’ve ever been with another person. But when you asked me in class, in front of the rest of the cadets, you were talking to Hangman, and he would never be caught dead reading poetry. So, I lied. And it seems that I doomed us both.” 

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jake. This isn’t just on you. I lied too. I was so upset that you weren’t my soulmate that when you started asking me about what sort of music I listened to and you mentioned a bunch of artists, including the band whose CD I had sent you, I said I didn’t know any of them because I couldn’t handle talking to you right then. I just wanted the conversation to be over. But if I had just told the truth, you probably would have realized who I was. So, this is just as much on me as it is on you.”

“Thank you.” He placed another kiss in the middle of your forehead and a wave of warmth flowed through you all the way down to your toes. Then he chuckled, “I guess the universe knew we were idiots and needed as much help as we could get. Maybe that’s why we’re still stuck together through every mission and every transfer. Not even the United States Navy is a match for soulmates.”

“I guess not,” you giggled. Then, turning more serious again, you said, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I am lucky to have you as a soulmate. And I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.”

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

You groaned as a huge smile lit up your face and you playfully slapped his chest. “Oh, God. We’re going to be one of those super mushy, romantic couples that drives everyone crazy with how in love we are, aren’t we?”

“I’m counting on it.” There was absolutely no humor or playfulness in his tone. Just complete sincerity. And as you gazed into his pale green eyes, it felt as if you were staring directly into his soul. It felt as if you were staring directly into your own heart. 

Jake’s fingers brushed against your cheek before gently tilting your chin back. Your eyes fluttered shut even before his lips pressed against yours. Before this moment, you thought you knew what a kiss felt like, what love felt like. And yet, nothing you had ever experienced felt anything close to kissing Jake. It was like sticking your finger into an electrical socket but instead of pain, your body vibrated with a euphoric buzz of pleasure. 

And as he drew you in closer against his chest, it felt as if your hearts began to sync and beat in time until the two thumps melded into one. There was not a single sliver of doubt left in you. Jake Seresin was your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier about it.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog,  @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233

[crying-wolves]

hi!! why stress when you can be in a fictional world??

so i kept seeing my ex this week 🫣 after not seeing them for a year 🥴 and im over her but it’s like first gay love you know? that shit fucks you up!!!

i kept thinking about abby and how i wish i could text her 😭😭 like babe come pick me up PLEASE

so yeah maybe something around that?? i think we all need some abby comfort

You usually weren’t known for making mistakes.

Seriously, as overconfident and precise as it sounds, you were always the smart one. Level-headed in a way that pissed your friends off when all they wanted to do was go a little feral. Experiment. Let whatever happens, happen.

Yeah, you didn’t buy into that whole “let the universe make your choices for you” moonshine. Didn’t appeal to you in the slightest.

So why, oh, why are you spending your Friday night standing outside of a crumbling sports bar, rubbing at those tears that threaten to fall from your eyes onto the ground below you?

You guess the universe pushes and pushes until it finally has its way with you in the end.

Your fingers had dialed practically everyone of your four roommates in the past 10 minutes that you’ve been standing out in the balmy summer air, but, of fucking course, each call went straight to voice mail every single time.

Figures! The one time you decide to do something out of your comfort zone and everything starts spinning off its axis immediately.

The idea of calling an Uber flits across the back of your mind, but you really don’t want to spend anymore money tonight, having already handed your card over to the bartender enough times that you were thoroughly buzzed and feeling that if you checked your bank account right now, all of those vodka sodas would come racing back up your throat. Hard pass.

It isn’t until you scroll through your contacts for the fifth consecutive time and land right back at the top, however, that you stop to consider what may be the most obvious answer of the night: Abby Anderson. Fuckin’ duh.

Abby “Permanent Designated Driver” Anderson. The girl who has decidedly quit drinking altogether after deciding that she really wants to take her whole softball career seriously. Abby Anderson who is always, always wide awake into the deep recesses of the night, cramming for her 8am or putting in a few last minute hours at the gym.

Abby Anderson, sweet, sweet, Abby, somehow bestowed with the patience of a saint and the subtlety of a freight train, who will definitely pick you up, but won’t hesitate to ask what you’re doing at this ratty old place at 2:30 in the morning.

It’s probably a lot better than practically dragging your way home, so, why not?

You dial the number and she picks up within 3 rings, a little out of breath. You guess she took on the weight room, tonight.

“Yeah?”

Your body stiffens. Fuck! How well do you actually know Abby? You’ve barhopped with her and some other friends in the past, but most of those nights were spent casually sipping at a bottle of soda while you listen to everyone else converse and socialize. When was the last time you actually spoke to her?

“Is this one of those county cop calls that keeps going around campus, cause I’m not signing your fuckin’ petition—“

“No, no!” You blurt out, a little surprised at yourself. “It’s just— I mean, it’s just…me?”

Abby says your name inquisitively through the phone, sounding as startled as you are. “Hey…is everything alright?”

You scan your surroundings as if they’ll give you the answer that you’re looking for, and shrug like she can see you. Could be worse, you guess?

“Are you busyyy tonight?” You slur a little, and she seems concerned at the sound.

“No, I’m, uh, free? Are you in—“

“Could you, maybeee, give me a ride home?”

You think you can hear a ‘pause sound’ moving through her head, or maybe you’re just a bit more drunk than you thought.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally, just…are you off-campus, or—?”

“Mmhmm! I’llsendyouthelocation, byeee!”

You click the end call button and stare st the black screen. Since when did you get so frazzled over talking to her? She sounds the same as she usually does, right? Choosing not to think about it too much, the location is sent her way and, judging by the distance, she should be there in 20 minutes.

She’s there in 15. You hear her before you can actually make out the vehicle in the distance. It’s late. The roads are empty. You didn’t give her much context, so, you don’t exactly blame her for hurrying.

But her car pulls up in front of you like a heavy metal chariot, and you get a little anxious about stepping into the passenger’s seat in your sheer black dress and platform heels.

Neither of you say anything for the first minute and you’re rather grateful. Your insides feel like poorly melted snow, and you’re not sure if it’s the way that Abby’s gripping the steering wheel or the fact that she keeps glancing over at you through the side window. You see your legs shift against the leather seats, but your mind is elsewhere.

“Did you, uh, get to the bar alone?” She begins, tapping her thick fingers against the wheel, sounding like she’s trying to broach something, but you don’t know what it is yet.

You squint down at your phone screen to check the time again. Right. The evening started way earlier than you remembered.

“Nope. Came here on a blind date.”

Abby tries not to react like that shocks her, but she doesn’t quite make the mark.

“You went—! Oh! Right! ‘course! Makes sense…”

Silence, again. The kind that’s unbearable in situations like these. You roll down the window for some fresh air, but it makes the both of you sweat even more.

“Did it…go well?”

You purse your lips together and shake your head. “Nope. She was kind of a dick.”

Abby lets out a breathy chuckle at your answer and you decide to keep going.

“She wasn’t really that into me. Kept chatting up the waitress and interrupting me whenever I spoke. Said she had to leave early to pick up her little brother from his friend’s house, but she said she was an only child when I asked earlier, so…”

“Damn…that’s—that’s rough…”

“Yeah…”

What is with the both of you and pained silences? Seems to be something in the air tonight.

Abby clears her throat while you’re silently moping at the memories, and when you get to a red light, she turns to take you in.

“If it makes you feel any better, the last date I went on snuck out of the back door before dessert.”

You gasp, dramatically, and she rolls her eyes in the same manner.

“No fuckin’ way! You’re tellin’ meee that someone would actually pass up a chance to go on a date with you?” The utter disbelief that you stare up at her with makes her cheeks go pink, and she can’t help but feel a little satisfied with herself. She smiles, a little bitterly.

“Not as much of a catch as you think I am, babe.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Oh, I hardly believe that, Ms. Anderson.”

If there’s one thing you can thank the alcohol for, besides getting you in Abby’s car in the first place, it’s the extra push it gives you to go for the things you actually want.

“You know, Abigail, if you’re into it, we could, maybe, do a repeat performance of our shitty dates with each other, and make them…not shitty? How’s that sound?”

You feel the smile before you see it on her face. It’s like she can bring the warmth of the sun into any space she occupies.

“Well…” she starts “As long as you promise to at least tell me before you sneak out the back, then, we got ourselves a deal.”

You’re giddy with all that light she brings. And, you think, briefly, that sure, maybe you don’t usually make these kinds of mistakes, but at least this one scored you a date with THE Abby Anderson.

So, maybe, possibly, the universe could very well be onto something.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Summary: On February 13, those over 16 receive an empty box in the mail every year. You place items in the box and they appear in your soulmate's box the following day. Until now, you haven't figured out who your soulmate is. But after an unexpected run-in with your least favorite aviator, you discover your other half may be closer than you think.

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Note: Thank you to @wildbornsiren and @green-socks for helping me work out this concept. Your advice really gave me the confidence to pursue this idea! 💖 And also thank you for beta reading, Sam! 😘

I wanted to come up with an original concept for a Soulmate AU and I have not seen one done exactly like this so I figured I would give it a shot! I would love to know what people think of it as a concept as well as the execution in the fic! 🥰

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

You couldn’t believe it was already February 13th. You had been so preoccupied lately with the last few missions, increased training, and yearly inspections that it completely slipped your mind. Yet there was no denying the date when you checked your mailbox and found a red, heart-shaped box with a ribbon tied around it. 

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath as you picked the Box up. It looked exactly the same as it did every year since it had first shown up in your mailbox when you were 16. Just as it looked the same as every other Box that magically appeared in everyone’s mailboxes on this day once they reached that age.

No one knew exactly how it happened or when it started. Some say a form of the Boxes had been around since the 1800s, while others claimed to have found mentions of something like them back in the 1500s, while some scholars tried to argue the proof of their existence as far back as the 1300s or even crude versions in Ancient Rome. But in modern times, a holiday was formed around the arrival of the Boxes, one centered on love and giving. They called it Valentine’s Day after one of the earlier mentions of the event in a poem. And every year at that time, the same thing happened all over the world.

On February 13, the Box would appear in your mailbox. When it did, you would place items into it, things that either showed off who you were or showed your love and admiration for the person about to receive what you picked out. Then, you would place the Box back into your mailbox by midnight. The next morning, the Box would still be there, but it would now be filled with different objects. Objects that your soulmate had placed in their Box the day before.

Over the years, you had received a wide variety of trinkets from your soulmate: various types of candy, love-themed stuffed animals, the occasional jewelry, a wooden rose, a well-worn baseball, a picture frame left empty just waiting for a photo to go inside it, a bottle of half-used cologne, a stack of recipes.

And every year, there was a famous love poem nestled at the bottom. You often wondered if he would write you original poetry if it was allowed, but the Boxes didn’t permit that sort of thing. Nothing handwritten or originally composed, no photographs, no business cards, no blatantly identifiable items of any kind. Anything you placed in your Box that was deemed too telling by whatever magic or energy made the Boxes work remained in your Box when you opened it the next day.

It had only happened to you once when you tried to send a pin with the Naval Academy’s logo on it the year you were accepted, but apparently, it was too much of a hint as to your identity to pass on to your soulmate. It seemed as if the Boxes wanted to help you find your soulmates, but didn’t want things to be too easy for you either.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed even louder as you realized that at this time of night, the only places in the area that might still be open were convenience stores or the Walgreens a few blocks away. However, this close to the deadline, stores like Walgreens that catered to the Boxes were usually packed with last-minute shoppers or picked clean by now. So, with a sigh, you jumped back into your truck and drove down to the convenience store at the end of the block. 

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t a wide selection to choose from. Just meaningless junk and useless items. Reluctantly, you settled on a California shot glass (broad locations were usually allowed and your soulmate had once sent the wrapper from a bottle of whiskey so you assumed he drank) and a car air freshener shaped like a heart in one of your favorite fragrances. It was pathetic, but at least it was something.

As you headed up to the sizeable check-out line, you stumbled to a stop as you recognized the man at the end of the line. You stared at the back of his head all day during briefings and meetings so even from behind, it was impossible to mistake him. For a moment, you considered waiting for him to finish checking out or even just leaving the store now without your purchase, but it was almost 11:30 pm and time was running out to get your items into your Box. So, taking a deep breath, you stepped into line.

Sensing someone approaching from behind, Hangman glanced over his shoulder and did a double take as he recognized you. He flinched slightly and his shoulders tensed, yet his usual cocky smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here. I would have thought Miss Perfect would have had her gift planned out weeks ago. Cutting things a little close there, aren’t we?”

You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest that happened anytime you were around Hangman. Ever since the day the two of you had met at the Academy, you had gotten along like oil and water. Always trying to one-up the other or prove you were the best, your interactions usually ended with some sort of heated argument or screaming match. The universe seemed to enjoy your little feud because, by some bizarre twist of fate, the two of you had ended up in the same squadron after graduation. And you were both transferred together to the next one. Then to the same class at Top Gun. And yet another joint squadron change. It was practically unheard of, and yet, since the first day of either of your careers, you had been working together. But it never lessened the antagonistic tension between you. If anything, it only got worse as time went on.

When you were in the sky, the two of you could work together in perfect harmony and despite everything, you were the perfect wingmen for one another. Yet, the moment the two of you got face-to-face on the ground, that was when things became hostile. Just like now.

Trying your best to maintain your composure, you snapped, “We’ve been out of the country for the last two weeks. When was I supposed to get anything? Besides, you’re here too.” Looking down at his hands, you rolled your eyes as you spotted the fighter jet-shaped object he was holding. “A keychain? That’s the best you can do? Wow, Bagman. Some girl out there is so lucky to have you as her soulmate.”

Hangman’s jaw clenched tightly and you could tell he was trying his best not to start cursing you out in the middle of the checkout line. Instead, he just sneered, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk. I’m sure your soulmate is going to love that tacky glass and a single air freshener.” 

You felt your cheeks growing warm as you stared daggers at him, but it wasn’t all due to anger. Though you would never admit it, you knew he was right. This was a pathetic excuse for a present for the person who was meant to be the love of your life. He always gave you such lovely, meaningful gifts and this was the best you could do? You wish there was some way to explain what happened. That this was all due to bad timing and an insanely busy schedule and that you had wanted to give him so much more. But without a way to send personal messages, this was all you could do. 

However, just because all of that was true, it didn’t mean you were going to let Hangman get away with pointing it out. Still glaring at him, you said, “As a matter of fact, I know this is exactly the sort of thing he will love. You don’t know anything about him or me outside of work, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and worry about your pathetic gift and how disappointed your soulmate is going to be in the morning.”

For a brief moment, the expression on Hangman’s face wasn’t one of anger or rage. It was one of pain. And you realized he probably felt as shitty about his gift as you did about yours. You knew there was more to Hangman than he ever revealed to the other aviators, and at this moment, you felt like for the first time you might have gotten a glimpse of this other side of him. But before you could say anything, he steeled his face once more and whirled around to face the counter without another word.

Even with his back to you, you could see he was still very upset. His broad shoulders were tensed as he stood slightly hunched over and drawn in on himself. Suddenly, you had the urge to wrap your arms around him from behind and press your face against his shoulder blades as you whispered soft apologies to make up for what you had said. But you quickly shook your head to snap yourself out of it. This was Hangman. The two of you fought more than cats and dogs. This was just how it was between you. And yet, as he finished paying and glanced quickly back at you one final time, you couldn’t help but wish you had apologized after all.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, haunted by what had happened with your run-in with Hangman and how you should have handled it differently. However, all of it was forgotten the moment you woke up and remembered what day it was. Springing out of bed, you threw on some clothes and rushed out the front door.

As much as you wanted nothing more than to run downstairs and return with your Box as quickly as you could, it just wasn’t possible. The entire building had the same thought. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment, you were met with a crowd of people all struggling to make it to the stairwell. The landlord had hired someone for each floor to attempt to control the traffic, but as usual, it was a useless endeavor. There was nothing to do but wait your turn as the horde of people slowly made their way down the stairs and to the row of mailboxes by the front door. 

When you finally made it to your mailbox and retrieved the package from inside, you hurried back upstairs with the Box clutched tightly to your chest. Some people couldn’t stand the anticipation and had ripped open their Boxes in the lobby, but you preferred to open yours in the privacy of your apartment. Luckily, getting back up was a lot quicker than getting down. The crowds had thinned as most people made it down to their mailboxes and you were able to make it back in only a few minutes.

Once inside, you leaned heavily on your door, trying to calm your excitement. You waited all year for this moment, to get just the tiniest glimpse into the person who was supposedly your other half. Yet no matter how happy you were, you couldn’t help but dread the feeling of disappointment he must be having seeing what you placed inside your box this year. You just hoped you could make it up to him next year, potentially even in person. But maybe that was too much wishful thinking. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid. The second you saw what was inside, you dropped the Box as if it had burned you, spilling the contents across the floor. Gasping, you slid down the door to the ground, your hands pressed tightly over your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Somehow the Boxes got mixed up and yours was sent to the wrong person while you received this one instead. Because this could not be your Box. 

Yet, there was no denying the truth. A piece of paper stuck out of the Box. Glancing quickly at it, you saw that it was your yearly love poem, though this one had a theme of forgiveness and doing better in the future as well as love. As in, asking forgiveness for such a crappy gift this year. Because there, peeking out from underneath the table where it had landed, was the only other item from the Box: a familiar-looking keychain shaped like a fighter jet. 

A million different explanations ran through your head as you tried to think of some rational explanation that didn’t end with your soulmate being your wingman. They probably sold these same keychains in thousands of stores across the country and maybe he finally figured out your clues and realized you were a fighter pilot. Maybe he got his pilot’s license this year and this was his way of sharing the news. Maybe he might have gone to an airshow and wished you were there with him. Or…. maybe the keychain you now held in your hand was the same one you had seen last night in the convenience store.

You had to find out for sure. There was no way you could go about your day until you had verified this was all just some big cosmic misunderstanding. So, you grabbed the keychain, your bag, your keys, and your jacket before hurrying towards the door. 

Your jacket was only half on as you threw open the door and were almost hit in the face with a fist that was in the process of knocking. Dodging back, you saw Hangman standing in the hallway, his chest heaving as if he had just run the whole way here. Glancing down, you saw that in the hand he didn’t have raised, he was holding your shot glass and air freshener. So, it was true….

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

“How?” You stumbled backward, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse. But a large hand shot out and grabbed your elbow, steadying you. Hangman had touched you many times before, yet there was something different about this time. It felt safe and comforting and it sent a small shiver across your skin. 

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay! What about this situation makes you think I’d be okay? You wanted to scream at him, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. So, you just pull your arm out of his grasp and take a few steps back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I just need a minute.” 

You hurried off into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter. Draining it in just a few gulps, you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth as you try to figure out what to do next. Your mind was running a mile a minute and all you wanted to do was to lay down in your bed, burrow under the covers, and forget this morning ever happened. However, this was not something you could just ignore for now and figure out later. Hangman was still in your living room just waiting for you to return. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

As you walked back into the living room, you saw Hangman standing by your bookcase. When you got closer, he held up the picture frame you had received in your Box a few years ago. With a wistful smile on his lips, he said, “You still have this. And you kept it empty…”

With your arms crossed tightly across your chest, you gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never had the right photo with the right person to put in it.” As you reached out to take it from him, your mind flashed to the hundreds of photos with you and Hangman people had taken over the years. “Or I guess I did and just didn’t realize it.”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

The pet name was the final straw as you felt something snap within you. “No, no, I’m sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be you. It– It just can’t be.” 

Hangman turned away but not before you saw the pain flash in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you thought you’d be paired with someone better. Someone you could at least stand to be in the same room with.” He started heading towards the door, but you jumped in front of him to stop him from leaving. 

“No, it’s not that at all. Hangm– Jake.” His head was still hung low so you took his face between your hands and turned it so he was staring at you. Taking a shuttering breath, you explained, “It can’t be you because I don’t think I can handle the fact that we’ve known each other for almost 10 years and didn’t know. That my soulmate was right in front of me this whole time and I never…. That I wasted so much time arguing and fighting with him that I never allowed myself to see him for what he truly was.”

But it didn’t matter how much you wanted things to be different. There was no denying the truth at this point. In hindsight, it all made perfect sense. That heat in your chest you felt every time Hangman walked into the room wasn’t hate at all. It was love. Love you thought you could never have so you used it to fuel your anger towards him. You had turned the magnetic pull between you into something ugly and bitter all because you were hurt he could never be yours. And because of that, you almost ruined everything. 

Jake must have seen the tears forming in your eyes and the way your lip trembled as you tried to hold it together because his pained expression softened into one of understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He softly took your arm and drew you into his chest. The gesture was so tender and soft that you couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears began to pour down your cheeks as you buried your face into his shoulder. Jake’s hand gently caressed your back, rubbing small, soothing circles across it while you sobbed. And it felt so right. The hot feeling you got in your chest whenever Hangman was around spread throughout you and when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of your head, you thought you might explode.

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

So, you lifted your head slightly, and whispered, “The worst part is, I know it’s you. I’ve known since the minute I first saw you back at the Academy. Sitting in class with that stupid toothpick in your mouth and the big ol’ grin on your face. You were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and I instantly fell for you. For a moment, I even let myself imagine you might be my soulmate.” You tilted your head up to look him squarely in the face. “But when I asked you about one of the poems my soulmate had sent me, you said you’d never heard of it.”

Hangman smiled softly with a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “I remember that day perfectly. You walked up to introduce yourself and when I saw you, I couldn’t breathe. You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen and your voice… When you mentioned the poem, I had a momentary flash of hope that it could be you. But it was a really popular poem and one I had sent a few years before, so I just figured it was wishful thinking. And I couldn’t admit it right then anyway. Because with her – with you – I was Jake. As open and real and vulnerable as I’ve ever been with another person. But when you asked me in class, in front of the rest of the cadets, you were talking to Hangman, and he would never be caught dead reading poetry. So, I lied. And it seems that I doomed us both.” 

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jake. This isn’t just on you. I lied too. I was so upset that you weren’t my soulmate that when you started asking me about what sort of music I listened to and you mentioned a bunch of artists, including the band whose CD I had sent you, I said I didn’t know any of them because I couldn’t handle talking to you right then. I just wanted the conversation to be over. But if I had just told the truth, you probably would have realized who I was. So, this is just as much on me as it is on you.”

“Thank you.” He placed another kiss in the middle of your forehead and a wave of warmth flowed through you all the way down to your toes. Then he chuckled, “I guess the universe knew we were idiots and needed as much help as we could get. Maybe that’s why we’re still stuck together through every mission and every transfer. Not even the United States Navy is a match for soulmates.”

“I guess not,” you giggled. Then, turning more serious again, you said, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I am lucky to have you as a soulmate. And I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.”

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

You groaned as a huge smile lit up your face and you playfully slapped his chest. “Oh, God. We’re going to be one of those super mushy, romantic couples that drives everyone crazy with how in love we are, aren’t we?”

“I’m counting on it.” There was absolutely no humor or playfulness in his tone. Just complete sincerity. And as you gazed into his pale green eyes, it felt as if you were staring directly into his soul. It felt as if you were staring directly into your own heart. 

Jake’s fingers brushed against your cheek before gently tilting your chin back. Your eyes fluttered shut even before his lips pressed against yours. Before this moment, you thought you knew what a kiss felt like, what love felt like. And yet, nothing you had ever experienced felt anything close to kissing Jake. It was like sticking your finger into an electrical socket but instead of pain, your body vibrated with a euphoric buzz of pleasure. 

And as he drew you in closer against his chest, it felt as if your hearts began to sync and beat in time until the two thumps melded into one. There was not a single sliver of doubt left in you. Jake Seresin was your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier about it.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @marvelousmermaid, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta

[theamityelf]

Haven't seen anything more with your zombie infected au, I kinda miss it. I would like to see more shennanigins with Makoto and his classmates pretty plz.

Ooh, I actually have a post in my drafts for the Undead AU! (It's unrelated to this ask, though, lol.)

But yeah, ask for whatever AU you want anytime! 😁

...

"Mail day!" Makoto cheered, returning to his classroom and finding, to his relief, that Taka and Sakura had succeeded in keeping everyone there in his absence.

Sakura immediately took the large package that he was struggling to carry and set it down in the middle of the room.

Those still in power over Hope's Peak could only get packages onto the barricaded campus once a week, and since each class had to be given their own package, the 78th class only received theirs once a month. Mail day. (Email day happened weekly, and the video calls with Matsuda happened biweekly.)

The box was lined with insulation, for it contained frozen meat for the undead and food for the luckster, along with whatever else they saw fit to send. (The meat ran out pretty fast, but at least it meant he wouldn't have to hunt for a few days and his friends weren't starving.)

Makoto pulled up a chair.

"Let's see..." He opened the letter from the headmaster that accompanied the package. "Yep, we have a few assignments today. Um..." He set aside the actual math homework and history assignment that had come enclosed for him, because for some reason the lucky students were expected to contribute to the pretense that this was still, on any level, a functioning school. "Hiro! You're first."

Yasuhiro climbed down from the shelf he'd ascended (because Syo had been fronting for most of the day and she'd gotten into it with Mukuro this morning).

"Okay, it looks like they just want you to choose something out of a list again. Oh, actually, you have to pick three. And it's a really long list. It says here there's a set of index cards, if that's easier..." He checked the box and found the centimeter-thick stack of index cards that had been mentioned. Like the list that was printed on the headmaster's letter, all the cards seemed to contain the name of a different chemical (all of which Makoto had never heard of). Makoto fanned out the cards as best he could, so Hiro could at least somewhat see the words on them. "So, you just have to pick three of these, and I'll tell them which ones you picked, okay?"

Hiro picked a card.

"Okay, that's one."

He picked another card.

"That's two. You're doing great."

He picked a third card.

"Great, that's three- Oh!"

Actually, the third "card" was two cards stuck together.

"I...don't know what to do about that, so I'll just tell them both cards and that they were stuck together. Thanks, Hiro!" Makoto wrote down the results, and Hiro skulked away, giving Syo a wide berth. "Okay. Sayaka?"

He turned and found that Sayaka was right behind him– the kind of thing which would have startled him at the beginning, but at this point he took it in stride.

"Great. They sent another recorder, and they want me to record you singing again, so I'll just start it now..." (He pushed the record button on the little device.) "...and I'll give that to you, and you can just hold it until it runs out of battery."

Sayaka took the recorder with a smile, like it was a treasured gift. Her smile was still as camera-ready as ever. And as usual, anything that made her the slightest bit happy made her start humming. And the sound of her own lovely voice only made her happier, which led to singing. She crawled off with the recorder in hand, vocalizing wordlessly.

"The new glasses are in! Byakuya, Syo- Oh, Toko!"

Byakuya got to his feet and shambled over to take the newest replacement for his broken glasses, but Toko merely crawled glumly over, snatched the little black glasses case from Makoto's hand, and crawled away. Rather than return to his original spot, Byakuya sat on the desk that corresponded to the chair Makoto was occupying, looming passively over him.

"Do you need help putting them on? No? Okay." (He still watched carefully, making sure neither of them poked themselves in the eye or broke the new glasses.) "Hifumi, a new sketchbook and pencils. Not that I don't love what you've done with the walls."

He handed off the art supplies, and Hifumi made a kind of squealing noise that was definitely getting picked up on Sayaka's recorder.

"I'm glad you like it. Don't forget, though, we're sending it back to them after a month so they can see your work." (He would still probably put up a fight about it, when the time came. Makoto had found that giving him money worked to make him relinquish his work, but it wasn't like he had a bunch of that here.) "Kyo- Ow!"

Celeste had at some point found her way to Makoto's side, and she was now pointedly yanking his hair. He knew that her choice to pull his hair was meant to communicate something, in lieu of speaking; if her primary goal had been to hurt him, it would have hurt way more.

"No, sorry Celeste. They didn't send your new hair clip yet. I only sent that email yesterday. Now, if you'll let go..."

Byakuya placed a hand on the back of Makoto's chair and leaned in, like a tiger about to pounce. (Though he didn't growl, as that would actively escalate things by getting Toko or Syo involved.) For a moment, he and Celeste had a bit of a stare off– him snarling at her and her glaring vacantly back. But then Sakura made a small noise like a clearing of the throat to remind them all that she was right there, and Celeste released Makoto's hair.

"Uh, thank you. Kyoko, your dad sent you a gift. And he says to tell you that he hopes you're feeling alright and that you know everyone is working hard to find a cure."

Makoto held up the little, flat box with the black ribbon on it, but Kyoko just dismissively batted it out of his hand and back into the package.

He sighed. "Well, if you change your mind, try to do it before Junko takes it."

Junko made a high, distinctly offended noise– more at being treated as predictable by Makoto, of all people, than anything.

Kyoko stood up and rested her weight on the back of Makoto's chair. She seemed to be reading over his shoulder, but one of the first things the people in charge had had him test was whether the undead could still read, and none of the results had been conclusive. The fact that Taka hadn't been able to complete assignments like the ones they sent Makoto (and not for lack of trying; they always sent him a copy, anyway, as much to track his mental faculties as to appease his desire to be a good student) suggested he probably couldn't read, but every now and then Kyoko did things like this, and it was unclear whether she was just going through the motions of gathering information or if she actually knew that she was looking at. She did nothing in particular to demonstrate comprehension.

"Um...what next..." Makoto took a little longer than he had to, pretending to find his place, just to see if Kyoko would point it out to him. She didn't. "Chihiro, another new tablet."

The functioning-tablet-for-Chihiro to broken-plaything-for-Kazuichi pipeline was pretty short, but Chihiro enjoyed the tablets while they worked, and it kept attention away from Makoto's laptop, which he needed to receive and answer emails and calls.

Not just because it would be bad if the laptop was broken, but even more so because the laptop's ability to contact the world outside the school meant that Chihiro could do something malicious with really bad consequences, like hack the people who were trying to find a cure and confuse or destroy all their records. At least, that was how it had been explained to Makoto. He was sure that Chihiro wouldn't mean to upset or sabotage anyone, but an intuitive skill for programming and a decreased situational awareness did not go well together.

Rather than take the tablet from his hands, Chihiro climbed onto Makoto's lap and started tapping at the device while it was still in his hands.

"Okay, it's getting kind of hard to read the letter, guys..."

[sighthounds-and-sketches]

Let's talk about flying to pick up a puppy by yourself

And some ways to make it easier on you.

Your prep starts honestly, about a week before baby actually comes home. Maybe 2 weeks.

For my pre-flight prep, I first picked out a flight carrier. I went with the one my breeder recommended.

It has expandable sides, and a little storage pocket. And it's resistant to chewing. I'm really glad I didn't buy a cheaper one, and I can't stress enough that it's cheaper to buy a quality one the first time than have a zipper break or a tear in the middle of your trip. My trip in total was 4 flights and 4 hours in the car, with him being with me for half of it and having the longest layover of my day. I could only really let him out a couple times, so this next part was incredibly helpful.

I mailed the carrier to my breeder,

at her behest. This was *huge* because the siblings got their scent on it and he was acclimated to being in it before I got to him. It acted as a secure place for him to ride in the car and for his first few nights here, he slept in there through the night.

And now that he's in his crate, the removable pad with scents on it has been instrumental in establishing the crate as a safe place for him.

Video of why I'm really glad I got the durable carrier.

Please consider what you're wearing that day.

Wear clothes you don't need to fuss with *at all* that's normal airport protocol- but I can't stress this enough, you're carrying the puppy in your arms through the TSA checkpoint and other people will be fussing over him. Make sure your appearance and personal bag is no fuss.

See: jeans, hoodie, puppy treat and potty bag that can be shoved into my personal Item, and a no fuss backpack.

In my personal travel bag I kept:

Pee pads, his food from the breeder, a change of clothes in case of incidents, a portable battery to charge my phone, collapsible food and water bowls, collar and leash incase one wasn't provided, and SEVERAL toys in there.

The toys were great for waiting in the terminal. I'd expand the sides of the crate and introduce a new toy to him to help him run a bit of energy out before we had to board.

Peepads: Even though airports have animal relief areas, chances are they're either kind of gross or your dog may be a little too young for it to be safe. I was traveling through one of the busiest airports in the world, and nobody was checking jack shit so I opted for potty breaks to occur in bathrooms with pee pads. He didn't end up going but it's better to be prepared.

I flew Delta and used Skymiles accumulated from our credit card with them that we pay off monthly, so the only thing I paid for out of pocket was 95.00 to bring Argos on board. My flight only costed 20k miles total, and that was only a small portion of what we'd accumulated over the 6 months we've been using the card. I think it's worth considering if you're planning to fly to a breeder. It enabled me to go anywhere in the country that Delta flies and not worry about costs.

Day of hack: double check your flights on the airlines app and switch your seat if possible. I swapped one of my return flight seats to an empty row for 15.00, which meant I could have my carryon and him with me at the same time and that was very nice for readjusting where my stuff was and taking a damn nap. Because at this point, I'd been up for about 18 hours and still had 7 hours of traveling before I'd get home.

I think my last thing is that if you're like me and you do have an invisible disability- ask if you can preboard. Dont be afraid to say "hey, i have this problem and standing in the heat while carrying a bunch of stuff is potentially going to cause an episode. " The employees were extremely nice, and willing to work with me. Ultimately, I went through all of this because he's a service dog prospect and will hopefully help.

Small things for me specifically prior: ate in the morning and right before I picked him up, he was able to chill in his carrier while I ate dinner at a restaurant in the airport- didn't make any sounds. He slept the whole time. I don't think I couldve eaten in the food court, too much to carry between him and my main bag.

I think that's it. I may add to this if I remember anything I forgot.

Edited to add: for my besties with miscellaneous illnesses-

A baggie with your medicines is IMPORTANT. Do not forget some dramamine, advil, Tylenol, whatever, pack it if there's a small chance you'll need it!

I ended up getting migraine symptoms like 5 hours into travel, and that was not a day I could afford to have blurred vision. <3 remember to take care of YOU on the journey.

[unactive-shroom]

hii can i get nikolai lantsov with prompt 2 or 5 please? thank you sm <3

Prompt #5: Jealousy, Jealousy ♡

“After receiving a few anonymous Valentine’s, it doesn’t seem like your partner’s too happy about it…”

Character: Nikolai Lantsov **Check out the Valentine’s Event Here.

A.n: Thank you for requesting! Someone else requested prompt #2, you can read that here. I hope you enjoy!

It was a quiet day at the palace. You were lounging in your study, reading over some official documents and daydreaming about what surprise Nikolai had planned for Valentine’s day, when suddenly - “Y/n!” Nikolai burst into the room, brandishing a thick stack of crumpled letters. “Look at this! It’s outrageous!” You sat up straight, slightly startled. Nikolai sat down beside you, holding out the letters, gesturing for you to open them. “’To her majesty, Queen y/n,’” you read aloud. “’The sun pales in comparison to your ethereal beauty. May your feast of Sankt Valentine be blessed with joy and love.’ Oh, that’s lovely… I wonder who sent it?” Nikolai looked at you incredulously. “Okay, open the next one, then.” You hummed as you struggled with the thick wax seal. Nikolai passed you the letter opener that sat on your desk without a word. “Thank you, my love- why are you acting so strange?” “I am acting perfectly normal. Please read your letters.”

You huffed, and unfolded the card. “’Dear y/n l/n. Sankt Valentine has truly blessed us with such a wonderful person as yourself. I would be honoured to be your valentine. -F’ Are all of these Valentine’s cards, Nikolai-?” “Yes! All of these people are sending you mass amounts of cards - flowers and chocolates too!” You smiled, touched by the generosity of your people “Really? How kind of them.” Nikolai stood up in frustration, wringing his hands in exasparation. “No, not kind! You’re my wife! Not theirs! Why are all these people sending an openly married woman Valentines?” He sat down again, his head in his hands, and sighed dramatically. You placed a gentle hand on his back. “My love, tell me you’re not jealous of these people? I expect that they’re simply sending these out of obligation - after all, it is my first Valentine’s as Queen.” Nikolai shook his head, stilling hiding his head in his hands. “No, some of them are really very poetic. And from Noblemen too!” “ Nikolai Lantsov, did you read my Mail?” He looked up at you now, desperately shaking his head. “I was worried! You were getting so many letters, and many from noble families…. and then you were out all morning, and I couldn’t find you to ask, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

You kissed his cheek. “You don’t need to worry, my love. You are the only one that I have eyes for. And plus, now we have our decor for the festival next week, and we get to enjoy all those chocolates, too.” He smiled and leaned into your embrace, before picking up the official document that you were reading before he had come in and making a face. “Oh, this reminds me, I ought to go send off those documents to Kerch.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll see you in about an hour, okay? And make sure you’re ready for later this evening, I have something great planned. Talk to you soon, my love.”