#and the mail truck passes you in your own driveway with the delivery as you're walking back to your house 💀

[aquarianshift]

listening to the only living boy in new york is a different experience when you're walking half a mile in the freezing cold for the mail. and it's overcast and the sky is spitting. and there's nothing in the mailbox. and the love of your life is across the country. it's snowing but not enough to stick

[heartfullofleeches]

delivery person reader always delivering pin from one new owner to another

really weird how this doll keeps getting given away all the time, makes you wond-ah! i have a new delivery due aaa! *forgets about it*

"Y/n, hold up."

Foot hanging on the steel step of your truck, you shift your attention to your superior as they near the back of the vehicle. Parking a trolley as they open the back, they thumb through a list on their phone. Something in you predicts the next chain of events.

"Got a last minute addition to your route. I'll load it in then you can head out."

You could buy a lottery ticket with your luck - if it hadn't been so poor. The box is worn and cardboard taped at various ends, but you knew it, and its contents well. You packed the doll in it when it was returned to the office on its own two feet. Which shipment was that - the third or tenth? While putting a date to that specific instance was hard, what you did remember was that your little friend had been with you for some time. Location to location; following you pass a personal move to a new residence and job placement. You felt bad for the not-so little guy; the doll reaching the ceiling of your office when it wasn't crammed in a box.

"Alright. Let me know when you're done." You wait in the driver seat for your co-worker to finish up. You can see the box getting shoved in the corner out the overhead mirror. They round to your side following the slamming of the back door.

"Before you leave, you left all the updated info for your address in the breakroom like I asked right, right?"

"Yeah. Left it on a posted note under a salt shaker like you asked."

"Cool, just thought it'd be easier since I'm heading out early today, and wanted to get the prize from that raffle sent out soon. See you tommorow."

"See ya." You roll the door shut and start the truck's engine; speeding off to make up for those few seconds you lost. The day goes as smoothly as possible for someone worrying about their inanimate tag along could. Throughout your shift you have to arrange the box around due to movement during the drive. After a while, it just sits in the little nook behind your chair no matter the bump or slide.

Your time together ends the same as your shift. As the last stop on the roster, you march up the darkened driveway up to the front porch. It's a little rough around the edges, but you managed to find equal ground for the box to stand on. Saying goodbye to a piece of mail is the last thing you existed to mark off your list, but it feels right in this situation. You pray its the final one and that its found its loving home, but it's almost a bittersweet farewell.

"Hope things work out for you this time."

You load into your truck and drive off with only the occasional glance in your side view mirror.

-

"What the hell did you order, Y/n?"

Halfway through swallowing, you choke out a reply. "What- do you mean?"

Your coworker shrugs, making a rectangle with their hands to get their point across. "Well, not that I was being nosy, but I saw the note with your address and noticed it matched one I delivered to with this huge ass box.

"That's... concerning on its own, but I haven't ordered anything recently. Doubt something that big is from a raffle. I'll check it out when I get home."

Your break ends shortly after. The conversation with your coworker lingers in your head the remainder of the day. It couldn't be - right? As per usual, your shift is over long after the street lamps turn on. You take your time getting home; preparing yourself for what your instincts told you was there. From door in view - you can see it there.

A torn, cardboard box with various addresses covered by a new label; yours the newest addition. The tape on the seams is bunched up and peeling from lack of adhesive. You calmly enter your house, still unable to face it. Your face lands in a wall of plush.

Welcome home, Y/n.... I had so much fun hanging out with you, but I think we should play a new game now. House is so much more fun.... especially since we can do so much more together now.