#top gun maverick valentine's day

[autumntouched]

Day 14 of Ode to Phoenix

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!! Hopefully it's been filled with all the smut and/or pairings you could hope for, and this fic can serve as a little digestif

Summary: Hangman has a Valentine's Day gift for Phoenix

Pairings: Single Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

A/N: Inspired by @coraphoenix's comment on Open House. As frequently happens with these, from my head to the page with few edits. Apologies for any mistakes. xx

Valentine's Day Surprise

Natasha knows it’s going to be a long day when it starts with a flat tire. Hoping today isn’t one of the days Bob decided to go in early, she calls him for a ride. It takes him longer to get to her than she expected because her backseater was at the gate when she called and turned around to get her. 

Now they’re both running late. She’s on her way to her desk when Fritz waves her down in the hallway. “Hey, Phoenix! Did Hangman find you?” He gives her an exaggerated wink that pulls her up short. What the hell? 

“He’s looking for me? Did he say what he wanted?” 

Fritz lifts his eyebrows suggestively. “I thought you would know.”

Natasha tries to hide her irritation but checks her watch. She has less than an hour to finish and submit a report before her class starts. “No idea. Tell him I have a phone and he can text me if you see him again.” Fritz gives her a strange, skeptical look that she no longer has time to figure out. “I’ve gotta go but good to see you!”

Natasha has just logged into her computer and brought up the report when Glider knocks on her door. She’s the newest member of the squadron, recently arrived from Corpus Christi. “Some guy came by looking for you,” she says, not at all trying to hide the curiosity in her voice. 

“Let me guess,” Natasha sighs, annoyed. “A tall, blond dickhead with a toothpick.”

Glider looks surprised. “Oh I thought—,” she catches herself and tilts her head bemused. Her eyes sweep over the desk, sparsely decorated with a cup holder, a picture of her family, and the picture of her with Hangman’s niece in front of a Hornet. 

Natasha is actually curious about what Glider thought because she’s remarkably perceptive. “What?” she prompts.

Glider folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Well today’s Valentine’s Day, Phoenix. You’re single, he at least doesn’t have a wedding band, and he’s looking for you even though he could find your office phone in the directory if he didn’t have your number. So, according to my research, he has something he wants to tell you in person that probably isn’t work related.”

Apparently, Glider has also figured out that sometimes it’s easier to spell things out for Natasha when it comes to her personal life than to drop hints. And fuck! Why is Hangman such an idiot? She’s pretty sure whatever he wants has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day, and he has no idea of the rumor mill he’s set in motion running around looking for her on today of all days. She rubs her forehead, feeling something like a headache brewing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she promises with a groan. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Glider gives her a pitying look. “Or so you think,” she says pointedly. And having dropped that bomb into the conversation, she pushes herself off the wall and strolls back to work. 

Natasha needs to text Hangman to stand down, but she doesn’t have a minute to spare for whatever antics he’s going to throw back at her if she’s going to get this report in on time. She works five minutes into her buffer to send it off before class. 

Which means she arrives after some of her students but still ahead of the stragglers. Her slides are already projected onto the board, and they’re the right ones so at least it’s now Bob and the projectionist who have her back today. There seems to be an unusual amount of buzz in the classroom, but she chalks it up to an evening of Valentine’s Day plans ahead of them. Until Glider reminded her, Natasha had forgotten today wasn’t just February 14th and a shitty day with a flat tire.

She’s lining up her notes when Murchison calls out, “How come you never told us you flew with Maverick and Hangman?” 

Natasha’s head flies up to find everyone looking at her with interest. With his two air-to-air kills, especially now that one of those is a fifth-gen fighter, Hangman’s something of a legend to far too many of the young aviators who haven’t had the pleasure yet of crossing paths with his obnoxious ego. “It never came up,” she hedges, sounding a lot more tempered than she feels inside. “I try to focus on execution rather than who’s doing the execution since any one of you could be in a position to use what you learn here.” A rather inspired and neat answer, if she says so herself.

“Well, he said we should ask you about it because you’re probably not going to brag enough about everything you’ve done.”

She marvels at Hangman’s unique talent to make her want to strangle him at the same time she feels gratified for the way he apparently talks about her behind her back. It’s probably because his head is so big he doesn’t think she poses any competition for him, but still, it’s far nicer than some of the things she’s heard others have had to say about her. 

“Let me guess,” she sighs. “He was looking for me?” 

Murchison settles back in his chair, a cheeky lift to his mouth. “You just missed him. He said he needed to give you something but had orders to hand it to you directly.” At least that’s more information than anyone else has been able to give her, but how does Hangman know her schedule well enough to anticipate where she should be?

A few of the aviators exchange shrewd looks and smiles, and Natasha considers excusing herself to chew Hangman out right then and there. Instead, she dangles something she hopes they’ll find more interesting than the assumptions they’re making about her love life. “Thanks for passing along the message, Murchison. Since he brought it up, I guess I can go over a few of the details I’m allowed to share about the mission.”

That grabs their attention, and Natasha ends up glad the mission came up because there are some aspects of it that enhance the lesson she planned for the day. In the back of her mind, she makes a note to text Hangman after class but there are so many questions at the end that Bob is waiting for her to go to lunch by the time she dismisses everyone. 

You could text me instead of running around base looking for me, she fires off. What do you want? She shoves her phone into her back pocket.

“Did Hangman find you yet?” Bob asks as soon as her attention is freed up. 

Natasha stops and gapes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she demands. “What, you too now?” 

“Me too what now?” he asks dumbly, eyes wide behind his glasses at her exasperation. 

“What are we? Back in the nineties without cell phones!” she bursts out, yanking her phone out again and waving it in his clueless face. “If he wants to see me, he could just send a fucking text instead of making the whole base think we’re having some clandestine affair.” 

It is not the time for her wizzo to exercise his sense of humor. “Okay Daphne.” She hates that his sisters introduced him to Bridgerton. “Clandestine affair? We just call that ‘friends with benefits’ these days.” 

Natasha makes a furious noise in the back of her throat and storms off for the NEX. So much for Bob being one of the two people to have her back. He laughs and jogs to catch up to her. “So you’re not even curious about what he wants?” he wheedles. 

Yes. But, “No,” she says firmly. 

“I think it’s sweet.” 

Whose side is he on? And he knows what it is? Fuck, it’s too late for her to ask. “If it’s so important for me to know what it is, he can text me. Like a normal person.” It’s bright outside and she reaches for her sunglasses only to remember that they’re in her car. She puts her head down to keep the sun out of her eyes.

Bob, like Glider, gives her some slack. “Okay, yes, but he wants it to be a surprise. And to be fair, if he told you he had a surprise for you today, you probably wouldn’t text him back about it until tomorrow unless he told you what the surprise is.” 

So Hangman knows her schedule and her MO now? 

Natasha caves and turns to him, shielding her eyes to read his expression. “You promise I’m not going to want to punch him for it?” 

“I think you’re going to appreciate it,” he says genuinely. “And you’re not going to want to be grumpy when he gives it to you.”

She keeps checking her phone through lunch, but there’s no response from Hangman. Back at her desk, she pulls up the flight schedules and realizes he’s in the air until late afternoon. She drums her fingers on her mouse, trying to decipher Bob’s clues. What could Hangman possibly surprise her with on Valentine’s Day that she would appreciate? 

Their Commanding Officer waves anyone who’s finished their work out of the office early so they can get whatever extra time they can with their loved ones. There’s a race for the door and soon she’s one of the few left, using the quiet to review the latest NATOPS manual. Bob stops by to offer her a ride home, but she tells him she still has work to do. 

“So Hangman hasn’t texted you back?” he asks with a knowing smile. 

“This has nothing to do with Hangman,” she sniffs. “I’m doing my job.” 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “See you tomorrow and good luck with the tire.” 

“Oh, by the way. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she remembers to tell him before he leaves. 

He shakes his head lovingly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix.” 

As soon as there’s no chance of him turning around and coming back, Natasha pulls out her phone. Nothing from Hangman. She swivels around in her chair to look outside. The sun’s low in the sky so if he’s still on the hop, he’s been delayed. But it’s not like she has anything to rush home to. 

Still, she leaps for her phone when it finally rings. It’s Hangman. “Hello?”

It sounds like he’s running full speed. “Please tell me you’re still here?” he begs breathlessly. What the hell is he up to? Is he running to her?

“I’m in my office.”

“Don’t leave!” he commands. “I promise I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before she can say anything else. 

God, this man should be an actor with his flair for the dramatic. But her curiosity is now at full pitch, so there’s no hope of her focusing on the manual. She closes it and plops it back on the shelf. Natasha looks around for something to do so Hangman doesn’t think she’s sitting there waiting for him in suspense like she very much is. 

He comes barreling into her office, still in his flight suit and drenched in sweat. He wipes his arm across his forehead before he crosses the threshold and tosses an envelope on her desk. “I’ve been trying to give that to you all day,” he pants, hands on hips while he tries to catch his breath. He winces and hugs his side, leaning into a cramp. 

Natasha picks up the envelope. Her name is written across it in large, uneven letters. It looks like a child’s handwriting. She glances at him suspiciously, but he’s too busy trying to ease himself out of what must have been a full tilt sprint. 

Inside, she finds a folded white card with two stick figures. The taller one has a brown ponytail off the side of her head and is wearing the same boxy green squares as the smaller one who has a yellow ponytail. She opens the card.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix!!!

You are the best and you are my hero. 

When I grow up, I will fly planes and be brave like you.

Love, Phoebe Nicole Adler 

Natasha’s nose is suddenly feeling runny and her throat a little achy. Blinking rapidly against the tears gathering in her eyes, she reaches for a tissue. 

“Phoebe’s been asking all day if you got her card,” Hangman tells her. “My sister’s called and texted me every day since it came in the mail to make sure I didn’t forget to give it to you so I promised to take a picture of you with it for her.” 

And to her dismay, Natasha finds herself crying in front of Hangman. She sets the card on her desk so she doesn’t ruin it with her tears while she tries to scrub them away. 

“Damn, Phoenix,” Hangman drawls, very clearly entertained. “I didn’t think you knew how to cry and here you are bawlin’ like a baby over a piece of paper.” 

“I can cry and punch you at the same time, Bagman.”

When she manages to clean her face up as much as she can, she holds up the card for the picture he promised. Suddenly the grin falls from his face. 

“What?”

His gaze is trained over her shoulder. “Is that always there?” he asks. 

“Is what–,” she turns to see what’s behind her and her eyes land on the photo of her and Phoebe from the open house. “Oh. Yeah, I keep that for the tough days on the job.” 

When she looks back at him, she’s surprised to see his own eyes have turned glassy. He sniffs. “I know I said a picture but—.”

“Yeah,” she says. “We can FaceTime her.” 

Phoebe is dressed for bed when her face pops into the screen. “Guess who’s here with me, Pheebs?” Hangman asks, extending his arm so Natasha appears beside him. She waves. 

Phoebe squeals and the view goes haywire with her excitement. “Mommy! Mommy! It’s Phoenix!” she shouts. 

Noel chuckles in the background. “Okay, Pumpkin, but she can’t see you if you don’t hold the phone steady.” 

Phoebe comes back into the frame, face alight with awe like she really is staring at her hero. Natasha tries not to cry again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoebe!” she says. “Thank you so much for your beautiful card. I love it so much!”

The view goes haywire again, flashing upward at Phoebe, the ceiling, a blur. “She got my card! Mommy, she got my card! Uncle Jake gave her my card.” 

Hangman tries to hold in his laughter. “Pheebs, can you give Mommy the phone so we can see you?”   

Phoebe returns, this time at a slight distance, with her hands clasped beside her cheek. “Want to see what else I have?” Natasha asks and holds up the framed picture of them. 

Phoebe leaps forward and almost knocks the phone out of Noel’s hand. “Is that me?” 

“Yep. I keep it on my desk so I can remember getting to meet you.” As dramatic as her uncle, that makes the little girl collapse on the floor and no amount of coaxing from Noel can get her back on her feet.

“Someone’s not going to be able to sleep tonight,” Noel chuckles, flipping the camera so they can see her. “But thank you so much, Phoenix, this made her day.”

“Day? This made my whole life!” Phoebe yells from the background and both Natasha and Hangman can’t help laughing aloud this time. 

“This made my whole life too, Phoebe,” Natasha replies, which is met with a muffled, nonverbal scream of excitement. 

They exchange Valentine’s Day greetings and goodbyes with Noel and hang up. Hangman gets to his feet and stashes his phone in his pocket.

“Thanks for that,” he says sincerely. “You just made all eight years of her whole life, and I guess I’ve been replaced as her favorite aviator.” 

Natasha grins. “I’m sure you’re still her favorite uncle.” 

“Going to have to defend that title with my last breath,” he jokes. “It’s the only one I got left.”

It’s several moments before she realizes they’ve been sitting and standing there grinning stupidly at one another. She pushes herself around in her chair. “Thanks for making sure I got the card. I should put it up–.” 

“Want to get ice cream?”

Natasha looks at him sharply. “After you ran around all day making the whole base think that there’s something going on between us?” she demands.

Hangman has the common sense to look chastised. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I guess…yeah, I’m sorry about that, Phoenix.” 

Maybe it’s the rare apology or maybe Phoebe’s earned her uncle a little extra grace. Whatever it is, Natasha shrugs. “As long as you give me a ride home after. My car has a flat.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s the least I can do after you made my niece’s whole life.” 

“That’s something I’m remembering for the rest of mine,” she laughs, but she’s not joking. Phoebe’s card is one of the best Valentine’s Day presents she’s ever received. 

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Tag list: @melodiousoblivionao3

[topgunsocial]

[sorchathered]

Something in the Orange

Happy Valentine’s Day babes! Just a little Bob one shot to celebrate the day.❤️

Pairing- Bob Floyd x reader

Warnings- Drinking, language, smut

Summary- North Island’s new medical officer seems to have caught everyone’s eye, but she has her sights set on a certain WSO.

————————————————————————-

Knuckles rapping against the shitty cafeteria table startle you out of your thoughts, looking up you audibly groan at who has decided to grace you with his presence. Jake Seresin, or Hangman as you know him has sidled up to the table of aviators and medics with a cocksure smile and flirty demeanor almost every day this week and to be frank it’s really starting to get on your nerves. Being the head medical officer for the dagger squad isn’t a boring job by any means and sometimes all you want is to just eat in silence, today unfortunately no one is giving you that opportunity.

“What’s up doc?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows at you, and you roll your eyes, he has got to be the cheesiest man you’ve ever met and you still don’t know how any of his lines get him a date.

“Just living the dream Hangman, trying to catch a break and hoping one of you doesn’t wind up in my infirmary today.”

If he gets the hint that you aren’t interested he doesn’t acknowledge, just makes himself at home in your space and swipes a chip off your plate.

“Hard deck tonight, everyone’s going, you gonna tag along? I’d love to buy you a drink.”

You had in fact planned to go, but not to spend time giving Seresin any more attention than his giant ego needed. You had your eye on someone else entirely, but being the shiny new toy in fightertown (single, under 40, and hot) meant that every available guy (and some girls) on the squad had been vying for your attention the past few weeks since your arrival. It was becoming tedious, you knew you would need to set up some boundaries but you’d been testing the waters and just trying to make some friends, not looking for anything serious yet. Well unless a certain someone wanted that but that was a whole other can of worms.

So you just smiled up at Mirimar’s golden boy and told him you’d see him later that evening, not missing the glare a certain bespectacled WSO had directed in his teammate’s direction. You’d unpack that later.

Bob Floyd had been your one serious boyfriend in your navy career, you’d both been stationed together in Maryland in your mid twenties and had gotten on like a house on fire. But you both were young and not ready for anything substantial so when he moved to Lemoore you both agreed to stay friends and see where life took you. It was hard and you were heartbroken but you knew now it had been for the best, neither one of you were ready for marriage at the time and your careers kept you both on opposite sides of the planet which made things even more difficult. But now you were here, seeing each other every day and it was slowly driving him insane having to watch every one of his squad mates flirt with you on the daily. He knew you probably found it hilarious how it got under his skin, he didn’t have the right to say anything about it anymore and that was what frustrated him the most. He’d been the one to break things off, he’d put you both in the position you were in and he couldn’t stand it. But you two had barely spoken since you’d joined the team, and who knows if he even still had a shot in the first place?

———————————————————————

Hard Deck Fridays had become a commonplace for the Dagger Squad and their crew, and tonight was no exception. The bar was packed to capacity, everyone tossing back drinks and toasting to the weekend, congregating by the pool tables near the jukebox while Hangman and Coyote ran the dart board. You finally squeezed your way through the crowd after getting a beer for you and your medic buddy Carrie, grateful that she had claimed a table with Phoenix and a few of the other girls in your group. You all chatted and gossiped over the news of the week and you could finally feel the tension release from your shoulders, it really had been a good idea to get out tonight you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed the girl time.

“Uh oh girls, Rooster’s headed this way”

You all craned your necks to get a good look, there was no denying that Bradley Bradshaw was hot, but he definitely wasn’t your type. He’d made it known more than once that he wasn’t a commitment kinda guy and you were perfectly fine with viewing him as eye candy and letting that be that. But he had his eyes set on you tonight and his heated gaze raking over your body had you feeling some kind of way. “Down girl, it’s been a while but damn you need to get it together” you thought as he made his way over, one night in the sack with Bradshaw wouldn’t be worth the weeks of awkwardness that would be sure to follow and the repercussions were enough to keep him at arms length.

“Evening ladies,” he said with a lopsided grin, sunglasses still perched on his nose despite being indoors, which should have looked stupid but on him it was definitely working.

“Y/n wanna take a walk outside with me for a bit? I’d love a chance to get to know our new medical officer a little better.”

Well he certainly took the direct route, you had to hand it to him. He knew what he wanted and went for it, you could respect that. But as your eyes flicked up to make your response you noticed Bob at the table across from you with Fanboy, eyes boring into yours with a look you knew all too well. That I know what you look like on your knees kind of look, and damn it you were turned on just at the memories of him. So you smiled sweetly at Bradley and politely turned him down, making your way towards the bathrooms with a slight nod of your head in Bob’s direction. He slung back the last of his whiskey and made an excuse to leave the group, no one the wiser at what was transpiring.

In the dark hallway by the restrooms he found you, nervously playing with your bracelet and eyes darting all over as you looked for him. You sighed in relief when you saw him and he reached out for your hand to take you through the back exit into the balmy summer night.

You felt like every nerve was on fire, you’d been avoiding him the past few weeks, afraid to ask how he was or how things had been. What if he was in a relationship? What if he was over you and wasn’t interested anymore? You’d spent way too many nights with your hand hovering over his contact in your phone, way too chicken shit to make the call. But now he was here and holding your hand and you might explode just from the proximity alone. He had bulked up since you’d seen him last, muscles stretching that white tee just right and his hair was lighter from all the days in the California sun. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks and you wondered if they were along his shoulders and back as well, wondered what it’d be like to be in his arms again, in his bed, listening to him sing to you as you fell asleep like he used to. You needed to know if you had a shot, it was right on the tip of your tongue and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“Robby, uh I know it’s been a while but-“

“I missed you.”

You blinked up at him with shock now, how much time had you wasted the past few weeks avoiding him? Regret flooded you at the realization that you should have had this talk sooner.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, crowding you up against the weathered wall of the bar and leaning in to cup your cheeks with his hands. He rubbed his nose along yours and you let out a shaky laugh, he’d always been so good at rendering you speechless, drunk on the smell of his cologne and heat of his body pressed against yours.

“Can I kiss you sweetheart? Wanna make up for all that lost time we wasted.”

You nodded maybe a little too enthusiastically because he huffed out an amused laugh but pulled you impossibly closer, lips molding to yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed. God you’d missed him, no one had ever filled the void he’d left in his wake no matter how hard you’d tried. The two of you a tangled bunch of limbs and tongues in an all too familiar dance that had your hands roaming and bodies grinding into each other, barely aware that you were in a very public space. The bar door flung open and startled you both, Phoenix peeking out into the darkness to find the two of you still pressed together, chests heaving as you gasped for air.

“So I see you two have kissed and made up” she said with a laugh, and Bob hid his face in the crook of your neck, giggles pouring from him which brought on a round of them from yourself. She smiled knowingly and with a wink waved you both off, of course Bob had told her everything about the two of you, it wasn’t a surprise at all in her mind that she would eventually find the two of you like this; it had only been a matter of time. “I like her” you said as you fixed his crooked glasses. “Yeah, she grows on you, like mold” which sent you both into a laughing fit, it felt good to be with him like this again. No more tension between the two of you and it had you craving domesticity with him even more.

“What does this mean?” You whispered up at him, you didn’t know if you could bear it if he didn’t want to start over and the uncertainty in your eyes broke his heart.

“I was stupid, so so stupid. I love you, I never stopped. I won’t screw it up this time baby, I swear it.” He reaches for your hand and sticks his pinky out, knows your affinity for pinky promises and that they are law in your heart. It’s binding, if you two cross this bridge and he makes this promise there’s no going back.

With a shaky breath you link yours with his and blink back the tears that blind your eyes, he really does mean it. He won’t break your heart again.

“Let’s go inside before Phoenix comes back, she’s relentless and it’s time I introduce you to her properly. Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He pecks your lips and then helps you fix your hair and dress, leading the way back to your table. To say the group seemed stunned was an understatement, no one but Natasha had known you even knew each other and now here was their quiet WSO with the new girl in his lap kissing her like they’d known each other for ages. Bradley turned to Jake who gave him a flabbergasted look as well, how the hell had Baby on Board managed to snatch you up when they couldn’t even get a second glance from you? Coyote ever the nosy gossip of the group sidled over to the two of you pulling you both from your conversation, Bob giving him an eyebrow raise clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Ease up Bob, just curious about how you two kids know each other, you two look awfully cozy.”

You patted Bob’s cheek and smiled, the rumor mill would swirl regardless so why not get ahead of it now? You leaned in to give Bob a quick kiss and then turned all your attention to the group who clearly couldn’t mind their own business, eavesdropping on your conversation and failing miserably at hiding their interest.

“Not that it’s any of your business Lieutenant Machado but Bob and I go way back. Now if you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to have my boyfriend take me home and fuck me senseless so if you’ve gotten your answers I’d suggest you find somewhere else to be.” You smiled a saccharine sweet look at him, laced with a bit of venom as you dared anyone to say anything untoward. You knew the guys liked to pick on him and you wouldn’t have it happening on your watch anymore. Coyote gave an incredulous look but got the hint and with a fist bump to Bob made his way back to the group. Everyone else seemed awestruck until you glanced over the room, then they magically all had something else to do or look at that wasn’t the two of you.

Bob and Phoenix choked out a laugh and he squeezed your side, when you looked at him his eyes were hungry, heat pooling in your stomach at the look he gave you. It’d been so long since you’d been together but you would never forget what that look meant and you gasped for air, squeezing your eyes and legs shut at the same time as he leaned in to nuzzle next to your ear.

“Think we should get out of here pretty girl, what’dya say? Time to go home so you can get fucked senseless like you put so eloquently?” He huffs out a laugh, he’d missed your smart mouth and zero tolerance for bullshit.

Your response gets lost in your throat somewhere, but you follow him out of the bar as he waves everyone off, they’ll no doubt have plenty to ask you both on Monday but he didn’t give a shit, you were here and he’d been an absolute fool to let you go. He wouldn’t do it again.

He’d tried to move on countless times over the past few years, if he was honest with himself he looked for you in every woman he dated but no one seemed to fit the bill. You two had kept in contact over the years and he knew you hadn’t settled down either, hope always in the back of his mind that you’d find your way back to each other.

He’d barely made it in the door before he was on you, wrenching your tiny dress over your head to find you in nothing but the tiniest scrap of underwear he’d ever seen. You were grinding your body all over his and whining deep in your throat as he ran his knuckles up against your nipples. Scooping you up and tossing you over his shoulder he made his way down the hall to his bedroom, peals of laughter leaving you and he swatted your ass, God he’d missed this. He’d never had this kind of intimacy with anyone else. It was easy, like breathing when the two f you were in bed, always talking and laughing while also rough and dirty, the sex was always hot but the partnership you shared was something neither of you could find anywhere else.

You bounced backward as he plopped you onto his bed, and you were suddenly very aware that he had too many clothes on. You needed him now, there would be plenty of time to talk and take time relearning each others bodies but in this moment you wanted him inside you.

“Robby, please. Please fuck me, need it so badly missed you so much.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the dark. Pants made it just below his ass before he was pulling himself free and sliding into you. You gasped as he manhandled you, grasping his face to lick into his mouth as he slammed back into you with a sharp thrust, you had been soaked the minute you two got in the car and were more than ready to let him have you. It was animalistic the way he was fucking into you, sucking and biting whatever skin he could reach as he grunted praise in your ear, how tight your little wet pussy was and how badly he wanted to mark you up, keep you stuffed full of him every second of every day, needed to fuck you until you couldn’t walk anymore and you clenched down on his cock, it was too much and not enough all at once, you needed him like oxygen, so many nights you’d spent pretending your fingers were his cock but nothing could ever substitute how good Bob could make you feel.

He needed you to cum, his resolve was crumbling but he couldn’t let himself finish without you letting go first, needed to see you come undone and watch that fucked out stupid smile on your face he’d missed so much while he took what he needed from your spent body. He snaked a hand down to your throbbing clit and swiped slow circles to build you up, watched your chest and neck flush as you began to wail and thrash in his arms, pussy pulsing around him and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, biting down on your shoulder as he came hard, painting your walls in his release as you cried and bucked into him, still coming down from your high.

Finally the heaviness in his chest he’d had since you arrived felt bearable, he took a deep breath that he swore he’d been holding for days and appraised his handiwork as you sucked in deep breaths. Your chest was littered in what would be dark hickies before the weekend was through, bite mark on your shoulder would definitely cause some looks but you looked like an angel from the orange glow of the hallway light, and Bob finally felt himself relax.

You giggled into his shoulder as he melted into you, broad heavy body crushing you into the mattress and you felt like you were floating from the afterglow.

“So, is it safe to say we’re back together?” He said with a sheepish grin and you slapped his ass causing him to yelp and rub his stubble into your cheek.

“Might have to keep my options open, apparently I’m a hot commodity these days” you cackled and he pulled back to pin you by the hips to the bed, attacking you with tickles as you kicked and fought his advances. The two of you would spend the whole weekend wrapped up in each other, and Bob would spend every day proving to you he was in this for the long haul.

Monday morning came too soon, and when the time came to change in the locker rooms the guys were treated to baby Bob Floyd covered in hickies and scratch marks, needless to say they didn’t pick on him again about his lack of sexual prowess, and the incessant flirting from Seresin and Bradshaw miraculously stopped. You were Bob’s girl, off limits and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tagging- @attapullman (thank you for clearing the writer’s block a little!)

@bobgasm

@mamachasesmayhem

@roosterforme

@sailor-aviator

@sebsxphia

[k9effect]

Romantic Flight

[Click for better quality, reblogs appreciated]

[katewritesss]

Ice (to Slider): I told you, Sli, I'm not in love with Maverick.

Also Ice (anytime he's in Mav's presence): If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see, you belong with me?

[missathlete31]

Happy Valentines Day Everyone! ❤️❤️

[slidersimp]

Figure something out

Valentines day drabble! Follow up to this one from last year, here!

-----

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at home for Valentine's day. There was a sort of novelty at being able to head into his own office that morning, rather than dragging himself out of a base hotel somewhere thousands of miles away, wondering if his work schedule and the time zones between them would even allow him enough time to call Pete. Sometimes, he couldn’t, and in the years when he hadn’t dared text, he’d slip into his bed that night feeling like he was missing a limb. He wondered if hundreds of miles away, Pete felt the same. He wondered if he knew Tom was thinking of him. 

But there would be none of that this year. It was a balm Tom hadn’t even realized he needed. It wasn’t just like any other morning.

He headed into work after waking up beside his partner, both of them taking their time as they got ready. Pete had plastered himself to Tom’s back while he’d shaved in the shower, pressing kisses along Tom’s spine while he hogged all the hot water, not that Tom had minded. Pete made breakfast while Tom had prepped their uniforms, and they’d even spared enough time to sit at the table and eat together before they had to head onto base. They drove together. Tom handed both their IDs to the gate guard when they rolled onto base, and they both had to reign in their smiles at the kid’s utter shock at seeing Tom’s rank on his card.

When he dropped Pete off at his office, Tom leaned over the center console to kiss him, sweet and soft, safe enough to linger.

“I’ll be here at five,” he reminded Pete as he shrugged into his jacket and grabbed his bag. “Don’t be late. I’m still taking you out to dinner tonight.”

Pete grinned. “Yessir,” he said, cheeky as always. Tom couldn’t resist drawing him into another kiss.

At his own office, Tom spotted roses on desks, chocolates and other little presents, things that had been delivered as surprises and others people had carried in themselves. There was always a little gymnastics that came with getting gifts into secure buildings, favors called in from friends who worked in the same office as one’s spouse, instructing them to leave this or that on someone’s desk, the tricky navigation of security clearances required to reach specific areas. His own rank and clearance meant that he hadn’t had any trouble getting a single red rose and an envelope into Pete’s office the year before—the first year he’d been able to dare leaving something for Pete in such public view—but given the difficulties, he didn’t expect anything from Pete. He’d already been showering Tom in his affections all day, and Tom was pretty sure he was hiding a gift for him in the back of his underwear drawer, not that he was looking.

He marked his assistant’s sly little smile the minute he passed her desk, greeting her with a suspicious smile of his own, though if she knew anything, she didn’t let on. His smile turned to a grin when he opened the door to his office.

On his desk sat a thin green vase. Two origami fighter jets sat on sticks, arranged like they were soaring out of the vase on either side of a single red rose, with a card sitting on the desk below.

Tom grinned back at his assistant. 

“Were you in on this?”

“On what, sir?” She couldn’t quite hide her smile. 

“Right.” Tom grinned, shaking his head fondly. Of course Pete had something else planned. 

“Oh,” his assistant caught his attention once more, “your three o’clock meeting was canceled. I’ll let you know once they reschedule.”

“Okay,” Tom gave her a nod. “Thank you.”

His assistant withdrew as Tom stepped into his office, setting his bag on his chair and picking up the card, TOM, written out in Pete’s capitals. He wrote like an engineer, messy and quick, but Tom had always loved his handwriting. Maverick could never be encapsulated by something neat, and Tom loved him for it.

He slipped the card from the envelope.

Don’t worry, I won’t ask who the better pilot is. 

I’m sure you don’t need me to come into your office and embarrass you in front of your whole staff, but since you put the idea in my head last year, I have to tell you I have been tempted. I know my schedule makes things a little hard for you to do the same, but I bet you could figure something out. In the meantime, you’ll just have to endure me embarrassing you in other ways.

I’m still holding out for our rings and our wedding, but I hope that for now, this is something.

My wingman, my guardian angel, my partner, my everything. I love you, Tom. 

Happy Valentine’s day.

Pete

P.S. My hop today ends just after 1500. Check your schedule.

Tom had just enough time to stop by the base commissary and buy a bouquet of flowers, and he was on the tarmac when Pete climbed out of his jet just after 1500. 

It was February 14th, 2013, don't ask, don't tell was a thing of the past and Tom "Iceman" Kazansky pulled his partner close and planted a kiss on his lips for all the world to see. He felt Pete smile against his lips, and Tom kept his forehead pressed to Pete’s when he drew back from the kiss, his arms still around him.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Pete,” he murmured. Pete kissed him again, until his lips pulled into a bright grin.

“I knew you’d figure something out.”

[viximillarumvitarum]

Y’all LOOK what my husband got me for valentines. The man understands the assignment and is not at all threatened by my love for Hangman.

He gets it.

[icemanontop]

happy valentine’s day to the fruitiest pilot squad the world has ever seen.

[walmartpercyjackson]

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

Iceman: I wrote you a poem.

Maverick, already crying: You did?

[savvvvvy17324]

[equinoxofautumn]

My sister makes me Valentine’s cookies every year and look at this Lewis Pullman as Bob Floyd cookie she made me, 🥺💘

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Interlude 4: A Valentine's Day Letter

Part 14 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Description: You've never understood Valentine's Day. You're not a flashy person. You've never felt the need to flaunt your happy relationship in front of other people. Last year, you didn't celebrate Valentine's Day even though you were dating Jake. This year, your fiancé has been dropping hints, like he's planning something special. What you find waiting for you on Valentine's Day is far more special than you ever would have expected.

Disclaimers: None! This is the sappiest fic I've ever written

Warning: Female Reader

Word Count: 3185

Author Note: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Here, have some Jake and Gorgeous Girl to celebrate the day! I had an absolute blast writing this fic and I hope you all adore it!

Thanks to @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic for me and catching all of my weird phrasing!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

You’ve never understood the thrall of Valentine’s Day. As far as you’re concerned, it’s another capitalist excuse for spending exorbitant amounts of money and parading a happy relationship around. God forbid you’re single on Valentine’s Day, too. You’d made the mistake once of going to eat at a restaurant alone on Valentine’s Day. Faced with so much pity, half-hidden and cloying from the waitstaff and the happy couples in the restaurant that day, you’d nearly given up reservations you’d made months before. Since then, you’ve sworn off going out on Valentine’s Day. In any case, you can get the best parts of the holiday, the candy, the next day, all half off.

Coming up on your first Valentine’s Day with Jake, you’re not sure what to expect. He was deployed on Valentine’s Day last year and then in the hospital. Given how stressful that time was for both of you, it makes sense that you never celebrated. It didn’t bother you then, and it doesn’t bother you now. You've never doubted Jake's love for you. He loves to show you how much he loves you, but he’s never overtly demonstrative about it - something that suits you just as much as it does him. Jake usually saves his flashy tricks for when he’s Hangman up in his jet. But you’re still worried. Your fiancé is the reason why.

Jake's been dropping hints for weeks, practically since you both got home from Texas. He’d started with a simple, “You’re not planning anything for Valentine’s Day, right?” At your nod no, he’d grinned, kissed you, and then drove to work like he hadn’t upended your whole day just by asking that question. Since then, you’ve been noticing these furtive, hidden conversations Jake has been having on the phone. He’s keeping secrets, and you know he is. 

You’ve never been good at rolling with the punches, is the thing. If something is happening around you, you’d much prefer to know. Jake knows this, which is why you’re standing in your short robe at five o’clock on Valentine’s Day, staring down at the envelope and rose on your bed. Jake always makes the bed in the morning, and it’s still crisp and pristine now, hospital corners and all. The only thing marring the cream-colored duvet is the bright red rose and the white envelope. You huff as you breathe in the scent of the fragrant bloom and open the envelope, pulling out sheets of paper. The letter, for that’s what it is, is written on creamy, thick paper scented with roses. Jake’s spiky hand peppers words across the sheets, and you slump carelessly on the bed to peruse his words.

My Gorgeous Girl, Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful.  I know, I know. You have a thing against Valentine’s Day. I can almost hear your voice rise up in complaint as I write my love letter to you. “Come on, Jay! You can’t tell me you want to spend hundreds of dollars just to show the world you love me when we both know how much we adore each other!” It’s true, Gorgeous. We don’t have to show the world how much we love each other. But I don’t think of Valentine’s Day as a reason to show you off. Let’s be honest. I don’t need an excuse to show my Gorgeous Girl off. Any day, any time, I’m ready to scream how amazing you are from the rooftops. But today? I want to show you how beautiful you are to me, and I guess that’s why I’m writing this letter. Do you remember that first night we met? When that idiot James had the prettiest girl in the entire place sitting across that small table from him, and he didn’t realize? I fell in love with you for the first time, that night. It feels like fate, looking back at that night. If you can believe it, I wasn’t supposed to be in that restaurant at all. I don’t think I’ve ever told you why I was there, but I was stood up that night. It was supposed to be a blind date, some girl who was a friend of a friend of Will’s. We were supposed to meet out by the fountain, and after an hour of waiting, I was in desperate need of a drink. It felt like a magic spell came over me when I walked through the doors of that restaurant.  You were the first thing I saw, believe it or not. You were wearing that gorgeous purple dress, sitting in that chair by the dance floor with your hair curling around your face and the prettiest smile. I nearly walked right up to you and asked if you’d like to dance when I realized you were on a date. So I convinced myself you wouldn’t want a stranger butting in and settled in to watch you. I promise I’m not as creepy as I sound, Gorgeous.

You have to gasp and giggle a little at this point because it makes you giddy, realizing that Jake was just as enraptured by you at first sight as you were by him. You can’t believe a man as wonderful as Jake could ever get stood up, but you can’t help but be thankful that he was. Because now he’s yours, and you are never going to let him go. You sniff at the rose again and pick up the page.

You were fiddling with the drink in your hand, and every time you took a sip, I was enraptured by the little grimace of disgust on your red lips as you sipped on it. By the time you left the table to get a drink, staring at your phone like you were praying for a savior, I was a couple of drinks in and ready to do anything to make you smile for me. So I muscled up to the counter next to you and tried to steal your drink. It’s not the most original of moves to get a girl’s attention, but well, it worked, didn’t it? Fuck. My Gorgeous Girl, if you took my breath away sitting in a crowded room, then you have no idea how hard I found it to breathe when you were standing right next to me. I pushed that Old Fashioned into your hand and begged you to tell me what was wrong. You didn’t know it, but I was already gone for you. One word in that pretty voice, apologizing for trying to take my drink, and I was half in love. I would have done anything for you then. If you’re not aware, beautiful, I’d do anything for you now, too. When you told me how terrible James made you feel, I was ready to march right over and deck him. But then you let go of my hand, and I ached for that contact again. So I asked you to dance. If I thought you were beautiful walking through that door and at the bar, I was lying to myself. Hearing your laugh as I said any outrageous thing that came to my mind as we twirled around that dance floor, I knew you could never be more beautiful than you were then. I was lying to myself again, but I’ll get to that soon. Neither of us was expecting the night to end like it did, with the two of us running out of the bar and James screaming at us as we peeled out of the parking lot. But I’m so glad it did end that way. Because it meant I got to kiss you that night, feel the heat of your perfect body pressed up against mine as you sat in my lap in my truck and made the prettiest noises. Baby doll, I had to summon up strength I wasn’t sure I had to keep from ravishing you that night. The second time I fell in love with you, it was that night on the beach. The one when you found out how I got my callsign. I told you that night that I’ve never had someone defend me as staunchly and openly as you did. It’s true. I fell in love with you all over again in that moment. You listened to me spill my heart out and kissed me after I was done. I’ve never told anyone else what happened, at least nobody other than my therapist. I half expected anyone I told to run away from me like I was a monster. There you go again, undermining my walls and tearing them down like they’re made of flimsy sheets of paper rather than bricks and mortar.  I told you that you brought me back to myself. I was shipped to Lemoore after my air-to-air kill on the behest of your dad, Gorgeous. I forgot about it until I sat down and thought about that night while I was writing this letter. I’m not sure you noticed, and it was probably a mere footnote at the end of your dad’s Navy career. But it changed my life. If my CO hadn’t listened to Admiral Kerner during those days, I’m not sure I’d be alive and here. All my family would likely have left of me is a medal in a box on a mantel. And I wouldn’t have you.

The words swim in front of your eyes as you cry. You don’t want to mar the letter, not when it’s the only love letter you’ve ever received, and you want to keep it for all eternity. You blot the tears away and pull the pages back towards you.

Can I just say how I’m so happy to have you, my Gorgeous Girl? Because I am. You give my life meaning.

We’ve been through some rough times since that night, and I hate that it made you cry. When I crashed that day on the aircraft carrier mere days before I was supposed to come home to you, you were the only thing on my mind. I regretted never telling you how much I loved you. You know something, baby doll? Before I met you, I thought I handled deployments well. I missed my family; of course I did. But it was easy enough to feel close to them when I got the care packages and letters as frequently as I did. But with you? Fuck, doll. You’ve spoiled me. That first time we talked on the phone when I was on the carrier, all I wanted was to wrap you up in my arms and never let you go again. As you can imagine, that’s a difficult feeling to be having when you’re miles away from the love of your life. It’s frowned upon to steal a jet for a joyride across the ocean for a reunion with your girl, though I would have risked it for you. I think I was a knife’s edge away from a dishonorable discharge for the entirety of that deployment. All I wanted was you. I thought about you, dreamed about you, and god, did I ache for your body next to mine in that horribly uncomfortable bunk at night.

So yeah, you were the last thing on my mind when I passed out because of the pain that day. I never wanted to hurt you, Gorgeous. I just wanted to come back home to you. Of course, when I woke up three weeks later and saw your pretty face, I knew I’d hurt you just as badly as if I’d stabbed you in the heart. Baby doll, did you sleep at all in those three weeks? And is it cheesy for me to say you’ve never looked as beautiful as you did when I opened my eyes again in that hospital bed? I promised myself then and there that if I recovered and if I could fly again, I’d beg you to marry me. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to stay with me, in all honesty. I know it must be stressful to have your significant other in danger for months at a time. I shudder to think how I’d act if it were you in a jet and me waiting for you back home, not knowing and praying that I’d see you again.

Of course, as I’m writing this now, I understand how scared you must have been when I told you I was going back to work early. I didn’t understand it then when everything seemed to blow up in our faces, and you told me to “Go back to base. Go back to killing yourself with workouts before you're ready. Go back to having a multi-million dollar missile strapped to your ass going faster than the speed of sound.” I have those words memorized because I think you broke my heart that night, Gorgeous. And you did it to save yourself more heartache. I spent a lot of the time I was drinking in that bar, thinking about you. It shouldn’t be surprising. I’m pretty sure I think about you more than I think about anything else. Some would say I’m just obsessed. But I think I’m just a fool in love with you. The bartender straightened me out with more than just a few strong pours of whiskey. He was talking to me the entire time I was sitting in that bar, feeling sorry for myself. By the time you came to pour me into my truck and take me home, I was ready to beg on my knees for you to take me back.

Instead, I just made you cry again. I always noticed, love. I knew every time you cried those months when I was in physical therapy and healing from that crash. You spent half the day with your pretty eyes rimmed red and your nose cherry red from blowing it. You’ve said so many times that you’re an ugly crier. You’re wrong. You’re beautiful no matter what you do. I don’t understand why you took me back. I still don’t. But I promised myself that I’d be careful when I’m up in the air again. And I have been. I have to be. Those rough few months taught me to care for myself. Because I’m not just keeping myself safe; I’m keeping your heart safe, too. Love, you tell Roos I wrote something this sappy, and I’m never going to do that thing with my tongue that makes you melt ever again. That was the third time I fell in love with you.

You snicker through your tears and re-read that paragraph again. This is why you chose to fight for your relationship with Jake that day. In spite of the Navy, you chose to fight for Jake because you can’t see yourself making a life with anyone but him. Not anymore.

The fourth time I fell in love with you wasn’t that long ago, honestly. It was on Christmas Day when I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. I still can’t believe it, you know? I can’t believe that you would want to marry me, especially after all the pain and heartache I’ve put you through. Really, I wasn’t sure you would want to keep the ring after realizing how horrible my dad is. I know I’ve got just as many of his bad personality traits as the good ones I’ve cultivated since I left home. How do I know I won’t be as terrible to our kids as he was to me? I hope that because I have you, it’ll be enough to keep me from turning into a monster of his making. Gorgeous, I so want to have that family with you. To wake you up in the morning with breakfast in bed and our kiddos toddling about on little feet screaming for their mama.

I know we’re a long way away from that right now and that neither of us is ready to have kiddos running around. But I want that with you, love. I want every bit of the heartbreak and pain and tears that life brings us. But I also want all of the happiness, all of the laughter, all of the joy.

I love you, Gorgeous.

Forever Yours,

Jake

When you set the pages carefully back into their envelope and turn around, you see Jake standing there.

“Did I make you cry again, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You can feel your face crumple as Jake tugs you into his arms. “I love you so much, you ridiculous man.”

“Why’m I ridiculous, huh, beautiful?”

“Because you make me fall in love with you more and more every day.”

When his body shakes with laughter, you smack his arms with a pout on your face. “Hey, stop smacking me, baby doll! Come on, gorgeous. Wear your pretty purple sundress and come downstairs. I’ve got something special waiting for you.”

Before he walks away, you tug him down and kiss him, slow and sweet. His hands slide under your robe to squeeze your ass, and you moan into the kiss.

“Not yet, gorgeous. Get dressed.”

You’re pouting and grumbling as you tug the sundress on and braid your hair. But stepping into the kitchen and seeing candles lit, you’re melting again.

“What’s all this, huh?” You’re smiling at your fiancé as he hands you a glass of wine.

“We never got the chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day last year because I was hundreds of miles away.” He smiles and shrugs gently. “I wanted to celebrate you last year, but I wasn’t sure how much a bouquet of flowers and a gift would help when I wasn’t here to celebrate with you.”

“So I wanted to go all out this year.”

“And the letter?” You step into your fiancé until there’s barely an inch between the two of you. His eyes flutter closed as you slide your fingers down his cheek while sipping on your wine.

“The letter?” He chuckles, dipping down to kiss you teasingly, a barely-there brush of his lips against yours. “Step One in my master plan. Tell my girl how much I love her in the only way I know how. Without making a fool of myself, that is.”

“What’re the next steps in your plan then, Jay?” 

“What do you think of dinner and dessert?” He tugs you by the hand a leads you to the dinner he’s prepared for you, your favorite meal, and then grins.

“So I see dinner, cowboy,” You pout softly. “Where’s my dessert?”

“Baby doll, you’re looking at him!”

“What if I want my dessert before dinner, then?”

Jake’s eyes widen at your audacious words, and you laugh, the sound echoing through the house, as he takes the wine glass out of your slack hand and pulls you upstairs.

“I think that can be arranged, Gorgeous. Dinner can be reheated whenever you’re hungry.” He winks, “For actual food, not just me.”

As far as Valentine’s Days go, you can say this one is the best you’ve ever celebrated. All you needed was Jake.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@love2write2626 @little-wiseone @eli2447 @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @abaker74 @marvelouslyme96 @daddymack01 @essie1876 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

[bobfloydsbabe]

rose blush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: Professor Bob has a special surprise for his TA on Valentine's Day.

WARNINGS: fluff, allusions to smut, age gap (mid 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, brief mention of past relationships. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 1k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

JOIN THE TAGLIST

SPECIAL THANKS to @laracrofted who said Professor Bob gives off strong Valentine's Day vibes. I had to agree, even if his deliciously grumpy ass would deny it. So, enjoy a candlelit bubble bath with our favorite professor. Thank you, Ames!

“Robert Floyd, you didn’t.”

They’ve already had an amazing dinner at a restaurant with red wine and delicious pasta, and now he’s only gone and done this.

“I didn’t,” he whispers in her ear, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. “The hotel staff did.”

She smacks his arm, but can’t fight the grin spreading across her face. The filled bathtub stands in front of them with lit candles all around the edge and rose petals sprinkled over the bubbly water. An ice bucket with champagne and two glasses sits on a tray straddling the edges of the tub, and her heart sings for this man.

It’s hard to believe where they started compared to where they are now. They still argue, still have to pretend they don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off all the time, still have to make people believe their relationship is only that of professor and teaching assistant. It’s hard to keep up, and she knows that’s why he booked them a hotel outside the city. Valentine’s Day weekend no less. He’s being romantic.

“Go on,” he breathes against her skin.

She turns in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck, and rises to her toes. “You’re coming with me.”

He chuckles and pecks her lips. “Wasn’t even up for debate, baby.”

He slides one of the thin straps off her shoulder, leans down to kiss her collarbone. A shiver runs down her spine, and a breathy laugh tickles her skin. He knows what he’s doing when he pulls the other strap down, too.

With a few tugs, the dress falls in a pool of red fabric on the bathroom floor. The professor’s eyes travel the expanse of her body with a hungry look, like he’s ready to devour her.

She feels powerful. Seductive.

Stepping closer, he lifts a hand and runs his finger along the underside of her breast while keeping his eyes locked on hers. She shivers as his fingertip grazes her nipple, and it pebbles immediately.

She holds her breath, but can’t fight the shiver running through her. It makes the professor smile in a way that makes him look younger, and he leans down to kiss her. Gentle but hungry. Possessive.

“The water’s gonna get cold,” she reminds him.

“Right,” he whispers, leaning back a little. “Let’s get these off you.” He reaches for her panties and carefully drags the red lace down her legs. At a quick tap to her ankle, she steps out of them and Bob tosses them aside.

Rising from the floor, he offers his hand for balance as she steps in and she takes it, still amazed by the size difference.

As she sinks beneath the surface of the water, letting herself be engulfed by bubbles and rose petals, Bob undresses. She watches as he sheds his clothing, and she’ll never tire of looking at him or that surprisingly lean body he hides. If all the students who have a crush on him knew what Imogen does, they would lose their minds.

But she’s not willing to share.

He joins her in the water and reaches for the chilled champagne, pouring a glass for each of them.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Imogen,” he says, voice deep and rumbly. Hearing him say her name makes her stomach flip, even all these months later.

She clinks her glass against his. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She tips the glass back, enjoying the way it fizzles down her throat. When she puts her glass down, Bob’s watching her with a burning look in his eyes.

Cocking her head to the side, she narrows her eyes. “What?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Come here,” he mutters into the quiet room, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls.

With a smile, she glides through the water until she’s straddling his thighs, arms around his neck. He leans forward and captures her lips in a demanding kiss.

She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just kissing each other and being close, but she feels the moment he gets aroused.

She pulls back with a grin, fingers playing with the damp hair at his nape. “I knew shower sex was your thing, but bath sex too? You’re ready anywhere, huh, Professor?”

His arms tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, and their foreheads press together. “I don’t do this.”

She frowns, pulling back. “What, bath sex? I was joking.”

He looks up at her. His cheeks have flushed from the heat in the room and the alcohol coursing through his system, and he looks almost nervous. “No,” he says, and she hears the hesitation in his voice. “I don’t do this.” He gestures at the champagne, the bathtub, and maybe even the hotel room.

“Take women on Valentine’s dates?”

He shakes his head. “Never.”

Her brows shoot up. “Ever?”

“Ever,” he confirms.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Now he looks almost offended. “I’ve had girlfriends,” he tells her. “It just never lasted very long.”

She goes quiet, and silence hangs heavy in the air. Only the faint sound of bubbling champagne and flickering flames from the lit candles fill the room.

He takes a deep breath. “Does that scare you?”

She comes back to herself, eyes meeting his again. “No,” she says, voice quiet at first. “I’m just confused.”

“Confused?”

“Robert, you’re a catch,” she says, tugging on his hair gently. “You’re attractive, successful, and romantic when you want to be.”

“I don’t want to be romantic,” he says, hands travel down her back.

Leaning forward, she kisses him passionately while his hands find her ass in the water and pull her closer to him. Her cunt grazes his erection, and she gasps into his mouth.

“Too late for that, Professor,” she mutters, voice light and breathless. “Because this is pretty damn romantic.”

His hands knead her ass as his lips leave open-mouthed kisses all over her neck, his tongue tasting her skin. “I’ll show you romantic.”

He makes good on that promise.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @joaquinwhorres, @attapullman, @bobgasm, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @kmc1989, @rosie-posie08, @auroraseddie, @bcarolinablr, @cremebruleequeen, @sio-ina-bottle, @roosterforme, @sweetwhispersofchaos, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @bradshawsbaby, @hangmandruigandmav, @xoxabs88xox, @seitmai, @cherrycola27, @keyrani, @millieb-3199, @solo-pitstop-vibes

[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

[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