Saunter
Working as Viper's assistant, you see a new set of hot-shot pilots every six weeks, but one in particular happens to catch your eye...
Take Care of Yourself, Okay?
When Y/n’s heart breaks under the weight of loving a man always just out of reach, she’s ready to walk away — until Nick shows up on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, begging for one last chance to make things right.
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Gonna Be Trouble
you meet Hangman at an airshow while on a break from college. Will your careers draw you apart or will your love for each other bring you together? ONGOING
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Masters of the Air
Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal
My Lucky Charm (Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal x Reader)
As a flight mechanic, its your job to keep the planes in tip-top condition for the boys, one of whom seems to have his eye on you
Dead Poets Society
Charlie Dalton
Sonorous (Charlie Dalton x Fem!Overstreet!Reader)
Falling for your brother's best friend was the last thing you intended to do...but he was just too charming
No Unreturned Love (Charlie Dalton x Male!Reader)
Charlie's feelings were mutual after all
Paddle (Charlie Dalton x gn!Reader)
Mr. Nolan's ruthless punishments have you seeking comfort from your friend Charlie
First Kiss (Charlie Dalton x fem!Reader)
You find out your first kiss back in Elementary school was with one of your best friends
Steven Meeks
Steven Meeks x Fem!Reader
A game among friends to beat the summer heat leads to an accidental intimate moment between you and Meeks.
Stranger Things
Hellfire’s Newest Member (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)
The new girl at Hawkin’s high catches the eye of Eddie, and her affinity for DnD makes her the girl of his dreams.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Summary: When Y/n’s heart breaks under the weight of loving a man always just out of reach, she’s ready to walk away — until Nick shows up on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, begging for one last chance to make things right.
Thank you sm for this request, Anon <3 <3 And thank you for your patience while I wrote this little piece for the Holidays!
The light from your tv illuminated the living room, straining your already tired eyes. Every noise snapped your attention to the phone on the side table, anxiety halting your every breath as you desperately tried to relax on the couch.
Nick was supposed to call…it was Thanksgiving after all…but as the time approached 10 pm you began to believe that call may never come.
Carrying around the burden of missing him was hard, and each day that passed without a word allowed doubt to creep a little deeper into your heart.
By the time the phone actually rang, the sound of the crowd cheering on Oprah combined with your exhaustion made you think you were hallucinating. By the fifth ring, you were scrambling to answer, heart pounding as you pressed the phone to your ear.
“Hey,” his voice came through, crackling slightly, but unmistakably him.
A wave of relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced with frustration and hurt.
“I was beginning to think I'd never hear from you,” you chuckled slightly, trying to bring your heart rate down.
“I know it’s been a while,” he sighed. “They’re working us pretty hard out here.”
“I know.” You gripped the receiver tightly, your knuckles whitening as you forced a smile he couldn’t see. “I just… Happy Thanksgiving, Nick.”
There was a pause, the silence hanging between you, heavy and sharp, and for a moment, you thought the line had dropped. But then he spoke again, his voice softer, a little remorseful. “Shit… Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart.”
You swallowed, willing yourself to keep your tone steady. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier,” he continued, his voice dipping low, almost apologetic. “It’s hard to keep track—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off, nodding as if he could see. You leaned your elbows on the arm of the couch, the sounds of laughter from Oprah’s show filling the silence he left.
There was another pause, longer this time, before Nick tried to break the tension with a small laugh. “So… what are you thankful for?”
Your throat tightened at his question, grip on the phone going slack for a moment. What were you thankful for? The question felt like a cruel joke, bringing up everything you’d been bottling up, every dark thought you tried to push away each lonely night.
“What am I thankful for?” you repeated, your voice low, trembling as you forced a laugh. “I don’t know, Nick. I guess I’m thankful for… days that feel a little less empty than others. For distractions. For work. Things that keep me from noticing just how alone I am.”
You could picture him on the other end, taking in your words, and for a moment you wanted nothing more than for him to break down the distance, to say something that would pull you back from the edge.
The silence that followed was sharper, and you could almost picture his face on the other end, the guilt in his eyes. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t reach across the distance between them to reassure you, to tell you it was all going to be okay.
“Y/n…” he finally said, his voice softer, pained. “I know this is hard. But I’m doing my best. You know I’d be there if I could. You know that, right?”
Your throat tightened, the anger simmering just beneath the surface, impossible to contain. “Do I?” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Because sometimes it feels like you’re out there living this whole other life — a life that I’m not a part of. You say you’re thinking about me, but it’s just… words, Nick. Words don’t keep me warm at night. They don’t make up for the fact that you’re not here.”
“I’m trying, Y/n,” he replied, his voice breaking slightly. “You think it’s easy for me? I’m out here, day after day, thinking about you, wanting to come home, and—”
“Then why does it feel like you’re slipping away?” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why does it feel like… like I’m holding on to something that doesn’t even exist anymore?”
He sighed, the sound heavy, filled with a frustration that was as deep as hers. “I thought you understood what this life would mean for us,” he said, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard it before. “I thought you knew that I couldn’t just drop everything—”
“God, Nick, I know you can’t just drop everything,” you snapped, your voice raw, tears spilling over as you spoke. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just need to feel like I still matter to you. Like… like you’ll remember to fucking call me on Thanksgiving.”
He was silent, and the quiet that followed was more painful than anything he could have said. It felt like the final nail in the coffin of something they’d both clung to, something that had been slipping through their fingers, too fragile to hold onto.
“Maybe we’re asking too much of each other,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper, and your heart shattered at the sound of it, at the resignation you could hear in his words.
Your voice broke as you tried to respond, your throat tight with the grief you’d been carrying alone for so long. “So… what? Are you saying we should give up?”
“I don’t know, Y/n,” he whispered, and you could hear the ache in his voice, the same ache you felt, stretching across the miles between you. “Maybe we both need to figure out what we really want.”
A sob slipped out, and you covered your mouth, trying to hold yourself together, but it was already too late. “Fine,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Maybe we do.”
For a brief moment, you thought he might take it all back, that he might say something to bring you back from the edge. But then he just muttered softly, “Take care of yourself, okay? I love you.”
And then the line went dead.
You sat there in silence, clutching the phone to your chest, tears falling unchecked. The sounds of Oprah’s audience laughing and cheering on the TV echoed around you, filling the room with a painful reminder of a happiness that felt so far away.
As you sat alone in the dim glow of the television, the emptiness you had been feeling for months finally settled in.
–
The house was warm and full of life, Christmas lights twinkling from every corner, laughter and the smell of cookies filling the rooms. Y/n’s family had always gone all out for the holidays, and being around them brought you a comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time. You smiled, trying to savor the warmth and joy, but it only magnified the empty space in your chest where Nick’s absence had settled like a shadow.
You had tried to convince yourself you were moving on, that this was for the best, but every time you looked at the empty spot on the couch next to you, your heart ached. Your family had asked about him, asked why he wasn’t there, but you brushed it off with a smile, saying he was still deployed.
Then, amidst the hum of conversation and the soft strains of Christmas music, there was a knock at the door. You barely registered it at first, assuming it was one of your cousins arriving late. But your mother’s voice broke through, calling your name. “Y/n, honey, I think this one’s for you.”
Frowning, you made your way to the front door, your heart pounding before you even turned the handle, a faint, impossible hope sparking within you. And when you opened it, the world seemed to still.
There he was. Snow clung to his denim jacket and the ends of his hair, his cheeks flushed from the cold. His eyes found yours immediately, and the look on his face — raw, pleading, full of longing — broke your heart all over again.
“Nick,” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the faint hum of Christmas carols from inside.
“I thought you’d be here” he smiled, his voice low and unsteady, “I went to your apartment, but you weren’t-”
“I came here,” you gestured inside the house, “whole family’s here this year…”
You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the weight of everything he’d been carrying too. You hesitated,glancing back over your shoulder where your family laughed, oblivious to the storm raging inside your heart. With a quiet nod, you stepped outside, shutting the door behind you and wrapping your arms around yourself.
You stood there in silence for a moment, the snow falling softly around you, the quiet too heavy, filled with the things neither of you had said in a month.
“When did you get back?” You spoke up, eyes raking over his sleep-deprived face.
“Monday,” he hummed, the normalcy of the conversation somehow making you feel even worse about it all.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he started, voice barely above a whisper. “I know I shouldn’t just show up out of nowhere, not after everything… but I couldn’t let things end the way they did.”
Your throat tightened, every word tugging at your heart, filling you with an overwhelming mix of love and pain. “Nick…I didn’t think deployment was gonna be so hard for us…I didn’t think it’d make me feel like I mean’t nothing to you…” your voice broke on the last word.
He took a step closer, his hand reaching out before he dropped it, unsure. “You don’t know how much I hate myself for that, for leaving you with so many doubts. I was so focused on… on my duty, on being strong out there. I thought if I could just push through, I could come back and make it right. But I see now that I was wrong. I hurt you, and I never wanted that.”
You shook your head, hugging yourself tighter. “I love you, Nick. I never stopped. But… loving you hurts. Every time you go, every time you leave me behind, I have to live with this emptiness. And I don’t know if I can keep doing that.”
He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping, and you could see the pain in his eyes, the guilt he carried. “I don’t want to keep hurting you. But I also don’t know how to stop loving you, Y/n. I’ve tried… but you’re all I think about. You’re home to me. And I can’t imagine a life where you’re not part of it.”
Your chest tightened, the longing in his voice piercing straight through your defenses. “Nick, if we do this, I need you to be here for me. I need you to reach out, to make me feel like I’m not just waiting for someone who might never come back.”
“I can do that,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll call, I’ll write — whatever it takes. I’ll never leave you in the dark again. Just… please. Give us another chance. I can’t lose you.”
You felt your heart breaking and mending all at once, his words both a balm and a fresh wound. Slowly, you reached out, your hand finding his, the warmth of his skin grounding you, and in that moment, you knew you couldn’t let go. No matter how much it hurt, your love for him was stronger. The ache would always be there, but so would he.
With a shaky breath, you nodded, feeling the last of your resistance fade. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
His face softened, a look of relief flooding his eyes as he took your hands in his, pulling your close, wrapping your in his arms. You let yourself sink into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace thaw the hurt you’d held onto, if only for this moment.
“Thank you,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Y/n. I love you… so much.”
You stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow falling softly around them as the pain began to melt away.
Finally, you pulled back, a small, hesitant smile tugging at your lips. “Come inside,” you said, your voice steadier now. “My family’s here, and… well, they’ve been asking about you.”
He nodded, smiling as he squeezed your hand, and together you stepped back into the warmth and light of the house. As you entered, your family looked up, and your mother’s face broke into a grin, welcoming Nick with open arms. You held onto his hand, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt whole.
It wasn’t going to be easy — you both knew that. But as you shared glances across the room, love shining in your eyes, you felt a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could make it work, you could take care of each other.
I have a funny dps request. This happened to me once, lol
Female reader becomes friends with the poets and is talking about her first kiss on night. Say this happened maybe back in like 1st grade or something. And while she’s talking about it, one of them realizes he was their first kiss back then, and she’s like… Oh, hell, no, not you 😭🤣 Anybody else.
I loved this, thank you so much for the request!!
wc: 1.2k
It was a night like any other, the cool autumn breeze rustling through the trees as the Dead Poets gathered in their secret cave.
Y/N sat comfortably among them, her knees drawn up to her chest as she smiled at the antics of her new friends. She had always known these boys from a distance, but it wasn’t until she had joined their circle that she realized how much fun they were.
And Y/N fit right in.
That night, the conversation had meandered through various topics: poetry, girls (much to Y/N's chagrin), and the usual teasing banter that seemed to dominate every gathering. But somehow, the conversation took a sharp turn into more personal territory when Knox suddenly asked, “So, Y/N, have you ever been kissed?”
Y/N chuckled, leaning her head against the stone wall of the cave. “What is this, truth or dare?”
“Come on!” Knox pleaded, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve all shared embarrassing stories about ourselves. Let’s hear yours.”
She rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t help but feel a bit excited. It was rare for her to be around a group of people she trusted enough to let her guard down. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you.”
The boys leaned in eagerly, their curiosity piqued.
Y/N took a deep breath, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, my first kiss wasn’t exactly… romantic. I was in first grade.”
The group erupted in laughter, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with them.
“First grade?!” Charlie Dalton said with mock disbelief, shaking his head. “That doesn’t count!”
“Oh, it absolutely counts,” Y/N replied, still grinning. “It was during recess. I was hanging out by the swings, minding my own business, when suddenly this boy from my class ran up to me, kissed me on the lips, and then ran away as fast as he could.”
More laughter ensued, and Y/N joined in, the memory of the moment both ridiculous and strangely endearing.
Knox was the first to recover, still chuckling as he said, “So, what happened after that? Did you chase him down?”
Y/N shrugged, leaning back. “Nah, I was too stunned to do anything. I just stood there, confused, wondering what the hell just happened.”
“Classic first-grade romance,” Neil said, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “So, do you remember who the kid was?”
Y/N thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. “You know, I’ve been trying to remember his name, but it’s so blurry. It was so long ago, and it’s not like we stayed friends or anything. He was just some random kid in my class who decided that day was the day to make his move.”
“That kid had guts,” Todd said quietly, earning a nod of agreement from the rest of the group.
“Or he was just a little maniac,” Charlie added with a grin.
Y/N laughed again, shaking her head. “Yeah, probably. But hey, it makes for a funny first kiss story.”
The conversation shifted after that, but something about the way Charlie had been looking at her since she’d told the story made Y/N a little uneasy. He kept glancing her way, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to work something out.
It wasn’t until everyone was starting to pack up, ready to leave the cave and sneak back into the dorms, that Charlie finally spoke up.
“Hey, Y/N?” he said, his voice sounding unusually hesitant for someone who was usually so brash.
She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… that story you told. About the kiss. You said it happened when you were in first grade, right?”
Y/N nodded slowly, not sure where this was going. “Yeah… why?”
Charlie’s face flushed red, and suddenly, the confident, rebellious boy she had come to know looked… shy. “This is gonna sound weird, but… do you remember what school you went to in first grade?”
Y/N frowned, confused by the question. “Yeah, it was Hadley Elementary. Why?”
At that, Charlie’s eyes widened, and he let out a groan, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, no.”
Y/N’s confusion only deepened. “What? What’s wrong?”
Charlie looked at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I went to Hadley Elementary too. And I think… I think I might have been the kid who kissed you.”
There was a beat of stunned silence, and then Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait… WHAT?!”
The rest of the group froze, their eyes darting between Y/N and Charlie in disbelief.
“No way!” Knox exclaimed, his face lighting up with amusement.
Y/N shook her head, holding up her hands as if to stop the oncoming realization. “No. Nope. There’s no way. You’re joking, right?”
Charlie shrugged, still grinning sheepishly. “I mean, I don’t remember everything from back then, but I do remember kissing some girl on the playground in first grade. And if we both went to the same school…”
Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly. “Oh, hell no.”
The boys burst out laughing, Knox practically doubling over in laughter while Neil clapped Charlie on the back.
Y/N shook her head, still groaning in disbelief. “Anybody else! It could have been *anybody* else! But *you*?!”
Charlie feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Ouch! That hurts, Y/N.”
She shot him a glare, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “No offense, Dalton, but first-grade me did not know what she was doing.”
“Neither did first-grade me!” Charlie replied, laughing.
Neil wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “This is too perfect. Y/N, you’ve been reunited with your first kiss, and it’s Charlie Dalton of all people!”
Y/N groaned again, though she couldn’t stop the smile that was creeping across her face. “Seriously, though, why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Anyone!”
Charlie smirked, leaning against the wall with that familiar air of arrogance that Y/N had come to expect from him. “Admit it, Y/N. First-grade Charlie was ahead of the game. I knew what I wanted, and I went for it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Let’s just say you peaked in first grade.”
The boys howled with laughter at that, and even Charlie couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
“Well, at least now we know I’ve been irresistible since day one,” he teased, shooting her a wink.
Y/N groaned, but this time she couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “Unbelievable. Out of all the people in the world, my first kiss had to be Charlie Dalton.”
Hi! Love your writing. Not to jump on the bandwagon, but I was just wondering if I could request something from dps with a female reader. I’m sorry if this is cliche, but I was thinking of a scenario where the reader jokingly says she can take Meeks in a fight, and so they start playfully “fighting”. And a bit into it Meeks is like “alright, that’s enough.” and pins her down to get her to stop. Then she’s like “my bad, you are strong”, and kind of flirting so he’ll get embarrassed and then she can take him by surprise and “win”. Then some cheesy romance smoochy stuff comes in at some point. I have no clue, that’s just my idea, lol. Thanks, love!
Sorry this took me so long, I hope you love it!
Meeks x fem!Reader
wc: 900
“If you were stranded on a deserted island,” Charlie stared up at the ceiling, uniform shirt half unbuttoned as you and the rest of the poets lounged in Neil and Todd’s room, “which one of us would you want to bring with you?”
Summer had come early this year, and trapped within the brick walls of Welton Academy wasn't exactly the ideal place to escape the heat. Mr. Nolan was, of course, still enforcing school policy and making you all spend your study hours inside, so you and the poets were trying anything in your power to distract yourselves from getting heat stroke.
The boys murmured amongst themselves as they pondered Charlie’s question.
“Y/n.” Pitts said assuredly.
A hum of approval settled over the group.
“Hello?” Meeks whined, “why not me?”
“Well,” Pitts stuttered, “I mean Y/n is just like…stronger”
“Stronger?” Meeks squealed in offense, “she’s a girl…I could take her any day.”
“Oh yeah?” You turned to him quickly, brows furrowing.
“Yeah, duh,” he said, red curls bouncing over his glasses as he nodded his head.
“Alright,” you began rolling up your sleeves, standing up from the floor and turning to Meeks, “let’s settle it then.”
Offering him your hand, Meeks stood up, glancing around the room as the rest of the poets sat up from their respective lounging positions to watch the ‘fight’.
“I can’t hit a girl…” Meeks began.
“No backing down now, Meeksy, you started this, you finish it.” You playfully jab at his arm.
You swear you could hear him mutter an ow before rubbing his arm.
“Come on,” you repeated as you slapped and punched his arms, his head already dangling in defeat.
“Alright,” he locked eyes with you, “that’s enough.”
The next thing you knew you were pinned to Todd’s bed, Meek’s hands grasping your wrists above your head as he breathed heavily above you.
“Wooo” Charlie exclaimed from the other bed, the other boys dead quiet as their eyes locked on the two of you in such an intimate position.
Blood filled your cheeks as you stared up at Meeks, a smirk appearing on your lips as butterflies began to churn in your stomach, “wow, you are strong after all.”
His eyes trailed up your face until they locked with yours, a blush finding its way to his cheeks as well.
He began to smile as his eyes remained locked with yours, but only for a moment before yours darkened and you switched positions. Straddling his waist, you pinned his hands down above his head as he stared at you wide-eyed, mouth agape.
The other boys gasped, silence falling over the room as tension erupted between you and Meeks. He tried to speak but no words came out, just more and more blush on his cheeks.
You held his wrists down firmly, leaning forward just enough that your faces were inches apart. His breathing quickened, and for a moment, you could feel his heart racing beneath you. The room remained dead silent, but you barely noticed the others anymore, the space between you and Meeks pulsing with something unspoken.
"Didn't think you'd go down so easily," you teased, voice low, letting a playful smirk tug at your lips.
Meeks swallowed hard, his eyes darting between your face and the ceiling as if he were searching for a way out, but he was clearly flustered. "I... I wasn't exactly trying," he finally stammered, his voice shaky but laced with a hint of amusement.
"Oh?" you tilted your head, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I’m just stronger than you after all."
You could feel his body tense beneath yours, and as he let out a breath, something shifted between the two of you—an unspoken connection that wasn't just about play-fighting anymore. You let go of his wrists, placing your hands on his chest just long enough to feel the rapid rise and fall of his breath.
"You've definitely proved your point," Meeks whispered, eyes now soft, searching yours for something more than just a playful sparring match.
Your teasing smile faded, replaced with something more sincere as the playful moment transformed into something... unexpected. For a second, you both just stared at each other, the world outside of the bed disappearing entirely.
Then, as if breaking the spell, Todd’s voice cut through the silence. “Uh… you two okay over there?”
You blinked, realizing you were still sitting on top of Meeks. You quickly climbed off him, flustered but laughing it off. "All good," you replied, standing up and giving him one last smirk. "I think I’d uh…I’d probably want to be on that island with me too."
Meeks sat up, still blushing, but he managed a grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'll, uh, second that."
Charlie snickered from the other bed, breaking the tension in the room as the other boys finally exhaled, and the laughter spread. But even with the joking and chatter filling the air again, you couldn't help but notice Meeks stealing glances at you, his eyes lingering a little longer than usual.
I have a request!! Feel free to ignore if I missed a rule.
How about a female reader at Welton and a game of spin the bottle? 👀
Love this!! Sorry it took me a bit to respond, but here it is! Enjoy 😙
Spin the Bottle (DPS x fem!Reader)
Charlie Dalton’s plea for girls at Welton had somehow come true. Through unusual circumstances, you had found yourself in a chilly small tow in New England at an all-boys preparatory school, much to the delight of the so called Dead Poets.
The group of boys, seemingly making up a majority of the school’s outcast population, quickly welcomed you upon your arrival. Some of course were more welcoming than others...Charlie Dalton...while others couldn’t maintain eye contact with you if their life depended on it...Gerard Pitts, Steven Meeks, Richard Cameron, and most of all Todd Anerson.
On this particular night, you found this dichotomy playing out more than ever, in the form of a game of spin the bottle. What started as a joke between you and Knox had led to Charlie scouring the corners of his dorm room in search of any of the empty beer bottles he had tucked behind his furniture in secret. Once he found one, he gestured wildly for you and the poets to sit in a circle.
With a sigh, Neil reluctantly spun the bottle, smiling as it landed next to him,
“Alright Todd, truth or dare,” Neil said with a smirk.
“...tru-” Todd began through a quiet stutter.
“No, no, no. You’re playing the game all wrong,” Charlie interjected, hands gesturing to the bottle, “you’re supposed to kiss each other!”
Neil and Todd’s cheeks both turned crimson, a detail which the rest of the group seemingly missed while they collectively sighed, “ohhhh,” as Charlie shook his head.
“No offense guys,” Cameron began with a chuckle, “but I’m not too keen on kissing any of you.”
“Ditto,” Pitts groaned, with quiet hums of approval coming from the other members.
“No,” Charlie began, “but I know there’s someone here who we’re all pretty keen on kissing...” he raised his eyebrows at you.
“Oh, Charlie, come on” Neil squirmed as he whined at his best friend.
“You know what,” you weighed your options, “It’s all in good fun. Besides, whatever happens in this room, stays in this room”
The dead poets laughed, a slight blush gracing your cheeks as you looked to all of them. “To live deep and suck the marrow out of life?” Meeks toasted, to which you all agreed.
Grabbing the bottle to start the game, Charlie hoped in his mind that it would land on you, and once again his hopes came true.
“Well, well,” he smirked, closing his eyes and pursing his lips in your direction.
You giggled, leaning in to him and planting a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Hey-” he began, opening his eyes.
“Sorry Charlie,” you giggled, eyes traveling to the bottle which you were about to spin.
Butterflies filling your stomach, you spun the bottle and closed your eyes, opening them only when the boys all started oooh-ing again.
“Oh god,” Knox groaned, “this is torture,” he said as he crawled towards you.
“Just close your eyes and pretend its Chris,” Pitts joked.
“Knock it off,” Neil, the voice of reason, chimed in.
You and Knox shared an incredibly uncomfortable peck before he rushed back to his seat and your expression turned sour.
Knox spun the bottle, leading to an incredibly entertaining hover-kiss-squirming situation between him and Meeks. During his turn it landed on Cameron, resulting in someone making a ginger-on-ginger comment, making the group erupt in laughter.
Several rounds later you had found yourself in the clear, so far only sharing one real kiss with one of your colleagues, that is, until Pitts ‘s eyes locked with yours.
One of the more quiet and studious members of the group, Pitts and you hadn’t really spoken much, let alone touched. At least with Knox and Charlie that wasn’t your first time being close to either of them, but Pitts was another story.
His eyes told you he was nervous, but also excited, the kind of gaze you’d find in the eyes of a boy who had never kissed a girl.
Oh shit.
You blushed, face falling as you began to speak, “Pitts...you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
He nodded, taking in your words, “no, no I can do it” “Atta boy, Pittsie!” Charlie clapped him on the back.
With a nod, you leaned over to him, capturing his lips in a brief, but thoughtful kiss. The other boys cheered as you kissed him, pulling away to see his eyes glossy with joy and surprise.
“Thank you,” he whispered, although unclear if that was directed to you or to God.
Several rounds later, a rather passionate kiss between Neil and Todd had shrouded the game in a sense of confusion too heavy for it to continue. So, on the last round, you found the bottle in your hands, and you found it pointing to none other than Charlie Dalton.
“How about a little redemption for the first round, huh?” He joked, raising his eyebrows at you.
You sighed, choosing your next actions for three very specific reasons.
1. The importance of a good finale
2. Charlie had a point...and he was cute
3.To distract from rom whatever the hell just happened between Neil and Todd
And with those reasons in mind, you launched yourself forward and grabbed Charlie’s face, kissing him like you meant it as his hands wrapped around your back and the poets cheered. It was the finale the game needed, but it would definitely make for a very interesting school day tomorrow.
My Lucky Charm (Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x Reader)
Description: As an aircraft mechanic, it's your job to keep the planes in pristine condition, but Rosie makes your job difficult for more reasons than one
No warnings, just mutual pining and some kissing!
-
It wouldn’t work. No matter how hard you tried, the rudder just simply would not work. The German’s had shot the B-17 to shit just the day before, leaving Rosie and his crew limping home in a plane missing a critical flight control.
As a flight mechanic, fixing up these planes as quickly and efficiently as possible was your sole responsibility. No matter what condition they were brought back to you in, you had to find a way.
And boy did these pilots like to bring them back in less than ideal conditions.
It was one of his first missions though, so you had to cut him some slack for completely severing all connection between the rudder and the flight deck. What you would never forgive him for, however, was the endless climbing up, around, over, and through the B-17 that this repair necessitated.
At this particular moment, you found yourself perched on the tail of the plane, one leg on either side of the fuselage, as you were hunched over desperately trying to attach the rudder cable to its hook.
“Seems I left her in pretty bad shape,” the familiar Brooklyn accent chimed from behind you.
You sighed, stretching your back as you unfurled yourself and turned around to meet Rosie’s gaze, smiling at the lieutenant who stood below you on the tarmac.
“You could say that again,” you joked, smiling down at him as you ran a hand through your hair.
“Need some help?” He asked, taking his hands out of his pockets, “what’s the trouble?”
You hummed, using your wrench to gesture to the tail of the plane, “rudder cable isn’t wanting to attach…and when it does, it won’t take inputs from the yoke”
“Hm,” Rosie squinted, moving to stand alongside the airplane, hands on his hips as his elbows threatened to graze your leg while you both stared at the exposed tail.
You turned back to the plane, fiddling with the cables as Rosie watched from below.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, feeling something snap into place, “oh my god,”
“Did you do it?” Rosie asked excitedly.
“You must be my lucky charm, Rosenthal,” you beamed at him, the relief of finally finishing your repairs for the day washing over you.
“Nah,” Rosie shook his head, blushing at the ground, “you’re just the best mechanic we got around here”
Sliding off the fuselage, you landed mere inches from him on the tarmac.
This proximity was foreign to you and Rosie. Sure, you had exchanged smiles, salutes, and handshakes in between missions and repairs, but you had never been this close to each other, mere inches separating you. Staring up at his blue eyes, you tried your best to keep the blush on your cheeks at bay, but that was a lost cause because Rosie definitely noticed your face turning a little more crimson than it was just a few seconds earlier.
He smiled, blue moons staring down at you with pride, “I think I owe you one after this, Y/N”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you smiled.
-
One day later and you were sat in the truck with Lemmons awaiting the return of the 100th bomb group. The summer sun was beating down on your exposed skin as you reclined in the truck bed, your coveralls tied around your waist, an army-issued tank top covering your chest.
“I hear them” Lemmons perked up, starting the truck engine and waking you up from whatever daze you were in. Shaking yourself awake, you jumped into the passenger seat as Lemmons drove the truck down the tarmac to the runway.
Quickly, smoke and the sound of sputtering engines filled the sky, but only one plane was headed for the runway. Flying a shaky final approach, smoke trailed from almost all of the engines, flak decorating every surface on the warbird.
A sense of panic settled over the entire base as the CO’s scanned the horizon for more planes and every available mechanic rushed to the badly damaged aircraft. As you and Lemmons got closer you recognize the craft, its Rosie, and as much as you hated to admit it, you felt nothing but relief for a brief second.
Cutting through the grass and parking in front of the plane, the mechanics and medics got to work immediately. You ran to the left wing, clamboring on top of it and purging the engines of any oil and fuel which might cause a fire.
Beneath you, men with missing limbs and gushing wounds were being carried from the plane and carted off to the infirmary. You found yourself distracted from your work, glancing at each of the men and returning dutifully when you didn’t recognize any of them as Rosie.
Then, hunched over from beneath the wing, he appeared. Rosie’s sweat-covered curls caught the sun as he glanced at the carnage happening around his beloved plane, his shoulders tense and his uniform covered in soot.
“Rosie” you gasped, sliding off the wing and landing near him. His gaze remained transfixed on the world around him.
You reached up, gently placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look at you.
“Rosie,” you whispered, his eyes finally connecting with yours, “are you hurt?”
He shook his head, his normally concentrated and thoughtful eyes darkened with fury and confusion. Still cupping his cheek, you rubbed gentle circles with your thumb, attempting desperately to bring the pilot back down to earth.
“You made it Rosie, you’re okay, your crew is gonna be okay…and you brought her back to me in one piece,” you forced a chuckle, hoping to break him from this trance.
“Yeah,” he nodded frantically, moreso in an attempt to keep himself from breaking than in response to you.
“Rosie I-” you began, reaching for him with your other hand. Just then, two medics came and swept him away.
As they walked, his head snapped up and his blue eyes locked with yours. He seemed to send a soft smile your way, but he was tucked into a truck before you could read his expression.
-
New pilots arrived the very next day, flooding the barracks with their freshly minted canvas bags, neatly pressed uniforms, and unwavering American confidence…and you hated it.
For five days you had entertained the cockiness of the new blood, putting up with the cat-calls and demeaning comments that flooded your ears whenever they walked by a plane you were working on.
Its not like this wasn’t commonplace…it was how most of the men at Thorpe Abbotts treated you…it just wasn’t how Rosie treated you.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t noticed his absence. He had been sent to a recovery facility, affectionately called the Flak House by everyone on base, and had been AWOL from your life for five days. It was taking a toll on you that you never could have foreseen.
Rosie’s anger in his eyes when he crawled out from under that wing, the potential smile he directed to you as he got into the medic truck, and the proximity you shared when you were fixing his plane the other day all played through your head like scenes in a film that you couldn’t turn off.
The worst part was, you had no idea when you’d see him again…if you’d see him again…but you just couldn’t get him off your mind. Not only was he the most handsome man on base, he was the only one who treated you with respect, and you’d be an idiot to not have feelings for him.
-
The company band tried their best to play Glen Miller in the dance hall, lively trumpet solos making up for the lack of a clarinet at the base. It was Saturday night, which meant it was alight with chipper airmen and poorly crafted wartime cocktails, and you found yourself at the heart of it.
Pilots, naviagators, bombardiers and the like swarmed the hall in droves, dancing and chatting with the handful of ladies who worked at the base. Seated at a table with one of the other female mechanics, you couldn’t help but laugh at the airmen as they failed to hold their alcohol.
The new boys came up to your table one after another, seemingly failing to recognize you out of your coveralls, exchanging the cat-calls and insults for flirtations and compliments. Of course, you brushed them off, because even though you’d love to put one of those show-offs in their place and embarrass him on the dance floor, you couldn’t bring yourself to dance with any of the aviators except one.
You let them buy you drinks and sit at the empty seat at your table, shooting knowing glances at your fellow mechanic each time they said something stupid. And before you knew it, the hall was starting to clear out. All that remained were a few couples on the dance floor, a handful of the new pilots swirling their whiskeys at the bar, and a group of beaten-up Thorpe veterans seated in leather armchairs in the corner.
Sipping the last of your drink, your eyes drifted to the doorway where a very put together man in slacks and a dark leather jacket was walking in.
The man walked to the group in the leather chairs, squeezing each one on the shoulder as he passed them before making a beeline for your table.
“Y/N,” the other mechanic said, “Rosie’s back”
Her voice faded into the music as your eyes finally focused on the dark-haired man in front of you. His eyes were clear, his mutache neatly trimmed, and an uncontrollable smile stretched across his face, accentuating his smile lines.
You stared up at him, not caring about the deep blush you felt creeping onto your cheeks, or the smile you felt threatening your lips.
“I think I owed you one, Y/L/N,” his voice was music to your ears.
“I think you’re right, Rosenthal,” you smiled.
He offered his hand, helping you stand up before walking you to the bar, his hand moving to gently graze your back as you walked.
Ordering you both a drink, Rosie smiled at you as he leaned against the bar. He opened his mouth to speak when a new song started playing…it was Artie Shaw…and if anyone knows anything about Robert Rosenthal, its that he loves Artie Shaw.
“Dance with me, will ya?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing as he held out a hand.
You nodded, taking his hand once again and following him to the dancefloor. Keeping your hands together, his other hand snaked around your back and rested on your hip. You moved your free hand up his chest and onto his shoulder.
Rosie blushed, that same smirk forming on his lips.
“Before I left…right after we landed and we were talking under the wing…what were you about to say?” He asked, blue eyes staring down at you.
“Oh…” you blushed, avoididng his gaze.
“Come on Y/N,” he smiled playfully, “tell me”
“I can’t, its embarrassing,” you laughed, afraid to tell him what you had been dying to confess for days.
He got closer to you, his breath tickling your neck as he whispered into your ear, “please, tell me what you were gonna say”
“Rosie,” you turned to look at him, his face mere inches from yours.
“I-” you began, deciding it was now or never, “I was gonna tell you that I was so relieved when you came home safe because…because I was so worried about you, and I didn’t want to lose you before I had the chance to tell you that I-”
Rosie’s eyes stayed transfixed on your lips as you spoke, a smirk returning to his face.
You struggled to get the words out, completely overwhelmed by Rosie’s intoxicating presence.
“Y/N,” he whispered.
“Hm?” You hummed, staring into his eyes.
“I think you’re my lucky charm too,” he smiled as his hand left yours to cup your cheek.
You blushed, eyes closing as Rosie leaned down and caught your lips in his, capturing you in a gentle kiss that sent your mind reeling with emotion.
Pulling away, you beamed at each other as Rosie spoke, “I’ve been dying to do that”
“Rosie,” you raised your eyebrows, “you and me both”
Tucking your head into his chest, you and Rosie swayed until the band stopped playing and the hall closed down for the night. This was going to make work a lot more complicated.
Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin xfem!Reader) Pt. 10
wc: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, jake's pov, gabby losing her mind
I told ya'll everything would be okay
*Jake’s POV*
“Bradshaw, Seresin! If you boys don’t get off that phone right now you’re off the mission,” your commanding officer’s yell was nothing compared to the barrage of curses and insults Gabby was throwing your way on the ship’s landline.
“Are you fucking kidding me Hangman?” She screamed, “You’re gonna call her up and start yelling right off the bat?”
“I was yelling because Roost-” you tried to cut her off to no avail.
“Oh and don’t even get me started about you Bradley. Telling Jake something I told you in confidence, something that was a secret!” You could feel her rage through the phone. At some point your index finger and thumb had traveled to your brow ridge, where you tenderly massaged in an attempt to dissolve the migraine this was bringing on.
“Lieutenants!” The commanding officer’s voice grew louder, “I will cut off that landline if I have to”
“Gabby, my love,” Rooster began
“Don’t ‘my love’ me Bradhsaw, you fucked up big time cabrón,” She hissed. Rooster sighed.
“You know its bad when she starts speaking Spanish, man,” Rooster said quietly, you chuckled.
“Okay I’m sorry,” Rooster said, “We have to go, I’ll call you later, I’m sorry,” he continued to apologize as he pulled the phone away, Gabby still yelling through the other line.
As he hung up, you both let out a sigh of relief before your commanding officer’s voice rang through the air once again and you were snapped back to reality. With a nod, you and Rooster ran to your respective F/A-18s, the mission ahead unable to conquer the space in your mind that now stressed even more over the thought of the clusterfuck you had created at home.
—
Back on the carrier, you laid in your bunk as the emotions of the past few days caught up to you. The thrill and chaos of deployment had given you an excuse to evade the consequencesof your decisions, but now that the mission was over, you no longer had the possibility of dying in an air-related accident to take your mind off your feelings.
Feelings weren’t something you were very used to expressing…or even feeling for that matter. But something about Y/n brought them out in you, and you had a pet theory that that’s why you were so keen on pushing her away.
If she wasn’t with you, you wouldn’t feel emotions, and you wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this. Logical, right?
“You should talk to her…for real this time,” Rooster’s voice cut the hum of the ship, breaking your train of thought.
“I don’t really think she wants to talk to me, man,” you stared up at the ceiling of your room, hands resting atop your chest.
“She does, trust me,” Rooster said, moving to sit on the edge of your bunk
“Tell me why I should believe you,” you quipped
“Because she tells my wife everything, and like me my wife couldn’t keep something to herself if her life depended on it”
“Y/n told Gabby that she wants to talk to me?” You asked innocently
“Yep”
“Shit,” you sat up from your bunk, locking eyes with Rooster, then standing up and making your way to the phones.
“Godspeed sailor,” Rooster sent you with a salute as you embarked on a mission arguably more dangerous than the one you were deployed for.
—
“Baby?” You asked softly when you heard the phone pick up, Y/n’s shaky breathing barely audible on the other side.
“Hi Jake,” she said warily, obviously unsure of the direction this conversation would take her.
“Honey,” you sighed, shaking your head in self disappointment, “I’m so sorry,” you held back tears, unaware of just how much this had impacted you, “God I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I fucked up big time, and I’m so so sorry I wasn’t there for you. The things I said were wrong, they were hurtful, and I wasn’t there to support you when you needed support, and I’m gonna regret that for the rest of my life. I love you so much Y/n, I can’t believe I hurt you, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do,”
“Jake,” she cut you off, her soft voice full of disappointment, “I love you way more than I should love someone who’s said the things you’ve said. And it makes me feel so shitty how much I care about you and how much I long for you despite how much you’ve made me hurt…”
Your mind reeled through the things you’ve told her that hurt her. That she was just a stupid kid, that she was annoying, that she wasn’t there for you, that she wasn’t enough…all lies. Of course you didn’t mean them, and you knew that deep down she knew that, but your anger had made you say them. Continuously, you showed her a pattern of not being able to regulate your emotions, and she was defending herself. She was protecting herself, and how could you blame her for that?
“I want to give you another chance, I want to work this out with you, but I can’t go through this again. And I feel like I’m just gonna spend everyday waiting for you to say something or do something that’s gonna hurt me again…and I don’t wanna do that,” she sobbed into the phone, your heart breaking with each whimper that slipped out.
“God,” you whispered under your breath, “I’ve been such an idiot baby, I’m so sorry, please give me another chance. I promise you I won’t fuck it up again, I won’t hurt you. I want life with you Y/n, like you said, I only want to know a life with you next to me…please baby, I want things to be okay. I want to come home to you.”
She must have set the phone down because all you heard were distorted cries, and then the abrupt loudness of her blowing her nose, making you chuckle a little bit.
“Sorry,” she apologized, sniffling as she picked the phone back up.
“Never could do that quietly, could ya?” You joked, chuckling to yourself.
She laughed with you, “no, never could”
You both sat in silence with each other, taking time to process the information that had just been shared after days of no communication.
“Honey?” You broke the silence, “tell me what you’re thinkin’”
She sighed heavily, “Okay.”
“Okay?” You questioned.
“Let’s try it. As afraid as I am to be hurt again, it’s hurt more to be away from you…so I think we should try to work it out”
“Yes,” you celebrated, “you’re never gonna hurt again baby, not as long as I’m around”
“That better be a promise, Seresin,” she said sternly.
“Cross my heart, baby. I’m never gonna let my frustration get the best of me again. You’re my whole world, I don’t have anything if I don’t have you”
“You mean it?” She drilled you
“Yes, oh yes honey. I know its gonna take a while for you to trust me again, and I’m gonna wait as long as it takes and do whatever I can to show you that I mean it. That this is real, and I’m serious about you,” you promised her earnestly, meaning every word.
“Jake?” She questioned softly
“Yeah baby?”
“I love you…and I’m really excited for you to come home,” her words made tears well in your eyes, and a wide grin flash across your face.
“You mean it?” you joked, sniffing up tears
“Yeah,” she giggled, “I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything”
“I love you too, Smalls,” you smiled into the phone, relief washing over your body knowing she was yours again. You couldn’t fuck up this time.
As someone who went to the university 977 miles from San Diego, that little gem of knowledge always makes me smile imagining her off at school in detail. 💚💛
Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin xfem!Reader) Pt. 10
wc: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, jake's pov, gabby losing her mind
I told ya'll everything would be okay
*Jake’s POV*
“Bradshaw, Seresin! If you boys don’t get off that phone right now you’re off the mission,” your commanding officer’s yell was nothing compared to the barrage of curses and insults Gabby was throwing your way on the ship’s landline.
“Are you fucking kidding me Hangman?” She screamed, “You’re gonna call her up and start yelling right off the bat?”
“I was yelling because Roost-” you tried to cut her off to no avail.
“Oh and don’t even get me started about you Bradley. Telling Jake something I told you in confidence, something that was a secret!” You could feel her rage through the phone. At some point your index finger and thumb had traveled to your brow ridge, where you tenderly massaged in an attempt to dissolve the migraine this was bringing on.
“Lieutenants!” The commanding officer’s voice grew louder, “I will cut off that landline if I have to”
“Gabby, my love,” Rooster began
“Don’t ‘my love’ me Bradhsaw, you fucked up big time cabrón,” She hissed. Rooster sighed.
“You know its bad when she starts speaking Spanish, man,” Rooster said quietly, you chuckled.
“Okay I’m sorry,” Rooster said, “We have to go, I’ll call you later, I’m sorry,” he continued to apologize as he pulled the phone away, Gabby still yelling through the other line.
As he hung up, you both let out a sigh of relief before your commanding officer’s voice rang through the air once again and you were snapped back to reality. With a nod, you and Rooster ran to your respective F/A-18s, the mission ahead unable to conquer the space in your mind that now stressed even more over the thought of the clusterfuck you had created at home.
—
Back on the carrier, you laid in your bunk as the emotions of the past few days caught up to you. The thrill and chaos of deployment had given you an excuse to evade the consequencesof your decisions, but now that the mission was over, you no longer had the possibility of dying in an air-related accident to take your mind off your feelings.
Feelings weren’t something you were very used to expressing…or even feeling for that matter. But something about Y/n brought them out in you, and you had a pet theory that that’s why you were so keen on pushing her away.
If she wasn’t with you, you wouldn’t feel emotions, and you wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this. Logical, right?
“You should talk to her…for real this time,” Rooster’s voice cut the hum of the ship, breaking your train of thought.
“I don’t really think she wants to talk to me, man,” you stared up at the ceiling of your room, hands resting atop your chest.
“She does, trust me,” Rooster said, moving to sit on the edge of your bunk
“Tell me why I should believe you,” you quipped
“Because she tells my wife everything, and like me my wife couldn’t keep something to herself if her life depended on it”
“Y/n told Gabby that she wants to talk to me?” You asked innocently
“Yep”
“Shit,” you sat up from your bunk, locking eyes with Rooster, then standing up and making your way to the phones.
“Godspeed sailor,” Rooster sent you with a salute as you embarked on a mission arguably more dangerous than the one you were deployed for.
—
“Baby?” You asked softly when you heard the phone pick up, Y/n’s shaky breathing barely audible on the other side.
“Hi Jake,” she said warily, obviously unsure of the direction this conversation would take her.
“Honey,” you sighed, shaking your head in self disappointment, “I’m so sorry,” you held back tears, unaware of just how much this had impacted you, “God I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I fucked up big time, and I’m so so sorry I wasn’t there for you. The things I said were wrong, they were hurtful, and I wasn’t there to support you when you needed support, and I’m gonna regret that for the rest of my life. I love you so much Y/n, I can’t believe I hurt you, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do,”
“Jake,” she cut you off, her soft voice full of disappointment, “I love you way more than I should love someone who’s said the things you’ve said. And it makes me feel so shitty how much I care about you and how much I long for you despite how much you’ve made me hurt…”
Your mind reeled through the things you’ve told her that hurt her. That she was just a stupid kid, that she was annoying, that she wasn’t there for you, that she wasn’t enough…all lies. Of course you didn’t mean them, and you knew that deep down she knew that, but your anger had made you say them. Continuously, you showed her a pattern of not being able to regulate your emotions, and she was defending herself. She was protecting herself, and how could you blame her for that?
“I want to give you another chance, I want to work this out with you, but I can’t go through this again. And I feel like I’m just gonna spend everyday waiting for you to say something or do something that’s gonna hurt me again…and I don’t wanna do that,” she sobbed into the phone, your heart breaking with each whimper that slipped out.
“God,” you whispered under your breath, “I’ve been such an idiot baby, I’m so sorry, please give me another chance. I promise you I won’t fuck it up again, I won’t hurt you. I want life with you Y/n, like you said, I only want to know a life with you next to me…please baby, I want things to be okay. I want to come home to you.”
She must have set the phone down because all you heard were distorted cries, and then the abrupt loudness of her blowing her nose, making you chuckle a little bit.
“Sorry,” she apologized, sniffling as she picked the phone back up.
“Never could do that quietly, could ya?” You joked, chuckling to yourself.
She laughed with you, “no, never could”
You both sat in silence with each other, taking time to process the information that had just been shared after days of no communication.
“Honey?” You broke the silence, “tell me what you’re thinkin’”
She sighed heavily, “Okay.”
“Okay?” You questioned.
“Let’s try it. As afraid as I am to be hurt again, it’s hurt more to be away from you…so I think we should try to work it out”
“Yes,” you celebrated, “you’re never gonna hurt again baby, not as long as I’m around”
“That better be a promise, Seresin,” she said sternly.
“Cross my heart, baby. I’m never gonna let my frustration get the best of me again. You’re my whole world, I don’t have anything if I don’t have you”
“You mean it?” She drilled you
“Yes, oh yes honey. I know its gonna take a while for you to trust me again, and I’m gonna wait as long as it takes and do whatever I can to show you that I mean it. That this is real, and I’m serious about you,” you promised her earnestly, meaning every word.
“Jake?” She questioned softly
“Yeah baby?”
“I love you…and I’m really excited for you to come home,” her words made tears well in your eyes, and a wide grin flash across your face.
“You mean it?” you joked, sniffing up tears
“Yeah,” she giggled, “I mean it more than I’ve ever meant anything”
“I love you too, Smalls,” you smiled into the phone, relief washing over your body knowing she was yours again. You couldn’t fuck up this time.
As someone who went to the university 977 miles from San Diego, that little gem of knowledge always makes me smile imagining her off at school in detail. 💚💛
