#AND ACCORDION FUMBLING WITH THE COMPLIMENT

[suddenly-stickmin]

Holy cow that writing............. That was such a wonderful read

I gotta say, I love the moods that each of your art pieces has, especially when they have colour in them. It’s liked you look at it and you already know how to feel when you see it. Your art style is great, I love how you create the emotion and set the mood for each one. Keep at it! It’s lovely to have you here.

Oh my gosh thank you very very much for such a nice ask, I always love trying to create some sort of tone for my fully colored pieces, it's such a fun process from start to finish, and I'm really grateful to hear such kind words from ya!

Thank you so much again, and here's a little somethin' in return :]

[Song: Lifting | Creaks OST]

[poetryinsilence]

Oceans and Engines (part III)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female!Reader

part I | part II | part III | part IV | part V

A/n: Small allusions to some seggs but still all stuff-down-your-throat fluff. I love symbolisms :)))) It’s all fun and games up until this point. All rainbows and sunshine. Then, BAM! Nothing happens…👀 unless… reminder: fluff to angst

Wc: 2,578

News spreads quickly at Top Gun; it took less than 24 hours for everyone to know that you and Bob are a thing. That Bob got a new girlfriend practically shocked half the crew in Fightertown. Bob, the quiet and shy bookworm got a girlfriend? How is that possible? But, there you are, holding hands with Bob as he pulls you closer in his arms to assert that you are already taken. Hell, even Maverick is still trying to put two and two together but came to no conclusion. You're happy, that's all that matters.

The first time he took you out on an official date, he thought he needed to be sent to the emergency room with his heart racing faster than a Formula 1 car. Accelerating and sweating; the lump in his throat blockaded his airway, causing him to constantly trip over his words. But you didn't mind. His fluster made you fall even harder for his unique charm and attentiveness displayed for you.

He had the evening all planned out, with extra help from Phoenix and Rooster (and possibly a word or two of sarcasm from Hangman). With a good knock on your door and flowers tucked into his hand, he reviews himself once more from the reflection of your window—smoothing back a few loose strands and smoothing out the pesky creases on his shirt. Your door swung open with you gracing a sweet smile, all dressed in a canary yellow midi dress, puffy sleeves and skirt pleated like an accordion.

Bob's brain simply malfunctioned the moment you greeted him in the doorway; lips tugged up to a thin line when you caught him gawking adorably with those baby blues. He blinks, fumbling to compliment your outfit. The pink in his cheeks flooded in as he awkwardly shove the bouquet of carnation he's been holding in his sweaty palms. The split gradient on each petal bleeds from its pink outline and fades to milky white. You gladly accepted the blooming gift in your embrace, smelling its unique scent; spicy with muted tones, and thanking him with a peck on his face. Leaving the flowers sitting decoratively in a vase, you did one last check to make sure the door was locked securely before linking arms with your date. He happily guides you to his car, an old-school 2-door convertible dipped in frost white, decorated with stripes of black and red, straight out of the 60s. 

A small trip to a bucolic hole-in-the-wall restaurant for the night, and paired with a drive-in theatre that he found on google.  They’re doing a special run tonight playing ‘It’s A Wonderful Life'. To be honest, it's not the ideal first date movie, but as per his teammate's advice, any classic black and white movie are romantic enough to be a first date movie. Bob frowns at the thought of that. The premise of the movie is not exactly romantic, maybe in some aspects. But there's a part he agrees with; if you ever wish for the moon, he would get it for you, even if it seems impossible. But, he would do anything and everything to just live in the warmth of your smile. Shining so brightly that lit up his world. Even stealing the moon would be achievable.

As the night dwindles to strolling by the pier in the late summer air with it nearing the end of smouldering weather. You both agreed that ice cream is the best choice for any kind of dessert, and debating about your favourite ice cream flavours was an interesting experience.

“You are crazy. Nobody likes pistachio. Pistachio isn’t even a real ice cream flavour!” You cried.

Bob audibly gasped at your remarks, “And no one likes toothpaste flavour for ice cream!”

"Robert Floyd, you take that back!"

You chased him down the beach boulevard, laughing until your stomach hurt and tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. He stops, makes sure you're okay and wipes away the droplet with the rough pad of his thumb. Eventually, your breath evens out to its natural tempo, your hands slithering their way around his waist and pulling him closer to your chest as you lay your head listening to the melodic rhythm of his heart beating. The sinus resonance keeps in time with your own. A sound that you've been searching for in whispers of songs, where notes and signals have been overlooked by anyone.

On the drive home, your hand softly played with his blonde curls, and eyes never left the frame of his face. He answers with a delicate grasp on your thigh, tracing little circles on your tender skin—a sense of brandishing his initials onto you. Occasionally stealing glances at you and keeping steady on the road, his eyes illuminated by the feverish reds of tail lights, flashing grains of periwinkle in the night, smiling dreamily in his own little world.

The warm white porch light glows aflame with the undeniable intensity that lingers between exchanging gazes. Heat rises from fingertips still laced like ribbon on a present resting quietly at your side, your keys jangled and hesitantly turn and unclick something within you. Your feet gravitate foot by foot through the doorway, tethering Bob's hand along. The moment click within him too, as his eyes grew wider with your subtle invitation, gliding past the hallway and settling at the door at the end.

Heartbeat kicking into overdrive and travelling through from his touch, every beat felt fatal, and the rush of blood made him lightheaded. The ache and hunger for you is an entirely new experience, unlike any past relationship. The back of your knees finds the edge of the bed and falters onto the plush mattress. He stumbles, steadying himself with a hand and caging you in, and his mouth falls agape from this intimate position. Your giggle flutters at his reaction. Even in the moonlit room, you could imagine the flush of crimson he's wearing.

His throat bobs, and the moistening sound echoes in his eardrums parallel to the pulsating thump. This seems to be a much crazier idea than he'd anticipated, the thought of wanting you—needing you exceeds his limitations. Analysis is his speciality, but you, you're the enigma that overheats him. Even closing his eyes, the darkness takes hold of your shape. The heat pools at the back of his throat and stings harder in his abdomen.

A gasp leaves his parted lips at the sudden touch with the heat of your palms, both daunting and enticing to the borderline of his self-control, breaking down furthermore. The last bit of it crumbles down in a loud rumble with the soft contact of your lips, gentle yet hungry, consuming him all at once. He moans upon the stimulating contact, shaping and moulding him closer to the edge, shedding off his layers. Strong arms hooking underneath your knees, he gathers what strength he had left to take the initiative back into his court, and shallowly enters his desire.

Four limbs entangled beneath white sheets, lips sealed on unexplored skins, leaving imprints to find in the morning. Sparks fly under the night sky as you embrace and bathe in the afterglow. Despite that, the hot spell lingers between bodies and bed sheets, but the night is young.

*

Seasons dissolved from one to another painted their way with the colourful memories you’ve made with Bob. Every little thing about him bleeds into you and merges with a life of your own. And you with his. All his likes and dislikes, his favourite song you sing along to, the literature he admires with lines and phrases memorised. You know it all like the back of your hand.

Although it seems that everything is working out just fine, a feeling is prickling in the back of your mind, waiting for it to spill out at any unpredictable moment. Mostly the timing isn’t right. But sometimes, you almost let it slip. Those three little words that neither of you has spoken, yet you know it’s there—hiding behind every action and word you’ve spoken. It could potentially bring you both closer, or… maybe he’s just not ready to hear those words yet. The last thing you wanted was to send him running away, but what if? What if it doesn’t? What if things don't have to be at the exact moment, with the exact feeling from the both of you to be right? You just want to pour those feelings out of your chest, even if he takes it slow. And that’s okay.

You and Bob found the ocean to be the place that both of you go to the most. Whenever he gets his days off, you both know you will spend the day there swimming, reading, or maybe doing nothing at all. Just sit and stare into the tranquillity of the waters. It became something that defines you both, a place sacred and holds dear to your hearts. The very place where everything began.

The electric breeze sweeps you up in its soft blanket, and the air is getting thinner as the days go by. Bob scrunched his nose to stop it from running down the pages of his book. You lean closer; shoulders are pressing together for warmth and extra comfort while staring into the pacifying ocean of polynesian. Your foot caught hold of the bumper, steadying yourself on the hood of the car, listening to the rhythm and blues of this landscape.

The sound of strings began to pick up over the radio, and a knowing recognition rocketed into your mind and drew your lips into an upward curl. Your head snaps towards the cute blonde, eyes glued to the book in his hands and unaware of your intentions. You nudged.

“Hey, let’s dance!” 

"What, right now?"

"Yes! It's always time to dance. Come on!" you laughed, sliding your butt off the surface.

Your fingers interlaced with his, dragging him along to your spontaneity and espieglerie. He stumbles with his steps and sloppily tosses his book on the hood of his car. Your arms looped around his neck glowing with a simmer of heat and he rested adorned to the small of your back. The ochre sun setting on the horizon; you lovingly beamed at his state of mild frenzy, trying to retrace his steps to your first dance, focusing so intently on his footwork. Shifting and shuffling in basic box steps; it's a massive improvement from the very first time he dances, but still occasionally steps on your toe or two.

A chuckle erupted from your chest while you trail his clumsy coordination with his two left feet to the beat of the song. The rosy fluster flourished his skin in a new palette, both inside and out. You broke off your dance routine to save him from tripping up his noodling feet and just swaying in rhythmic circles.

Deep down, you knew. Bob is somebody your soul always craves. The gentleness he holds of you in the palm of his hand, the length he would go to protect you. You see it all. Everything about him is like water filling up your lungs, loving so deeply that it hurts, and the air is no longer the means to live. Breathe deeply, she said. 

His deep-set ocean eyes cradle yours and blink slowly, making you subconsciously bite your lip.

“Hey, Bobby? I, uh— this might seem weird, or kinda out of the blue, but um,” you pause for a moment.

“I always thought that love isn’t made for me. That I would just observe couples in love from the sideline— like looking into a snow globe of your favourite memory. Always outside looking in.”

The emotions stir inside, playing on the thread loosely hanging onto this sweater of defence. Now, it might just come undone with you laying bare, holding your heart out to him, with hands cupping delicately as fragile glass. Take it or break it, it’s up to him.

“This is gonna sound so stupid…but, I don’t believe in fates. I think they’re just some things we tell ourselves to make us less lonely on this planet filled with millions of lonely souls. And yet, I truly believe it’s the fates that brought me to this place. To you.”

Your eyes squeezed tightly, piecing together the thoughts that were running amok. Breathing in the salty air and a count of three, you open them again, this time, with a little glimmer.

“What I’m trying to say is. I love you, Robert Floyd. I loved you from the moment we met, and I finally found the word and courage to admit it to myself.”

As you have anticipated, you watched Bob’s face grow in awe. His eyes were as full as the moon and catching flies with his hanging mouth. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in your stomach. Nevertheless, it's good to get it off your chest after weeks of debating with your own inner demon.

"Bob, it's alright. You don't have to say it back," you reassure him, reassure yourself.

"N-no, y/n. That's not..." He pursed his lips together. Bob slowly shakes his head and draws out a soft chuckle. Your brows knot in a tight knit, wondering if you missed a joke or maybe what you've just said was silly to him. If that's the case, you would be laughing along too.

"Y/n...you're full of surprises. I didn't mean to laugh at you. No, never that. I always thought that I would be the first one to confess... Seems like you beat me to the punch."

He lights up with his boyish smile, melting you completely upon contact with its radiance. He had surprised you too. Not only with his words. But he was on the same page as you. Both waiting for the right chance, the right time.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe in fates either. But, when I saw you at the beach… I just knew. That my mind screams for you before I knew who you were."

It felt strange to you; a word as little as fate would hold such a big meaning. Despite everything in your belief, the cosmic universe grants you a timely divine intervention when you weren't looking for it. Yet, they twist and coil the kismet of two lives together with a silken twine- a friendship disguised in scarlet effervescent into so much more.

Bob pulls you closer and presses his forehead gently against yours. "I love, I love you. Nothing will change the love I hold for you."

What you give into your hopes and dreams lit up a flame in this spectacular moment. His words meant everything, speaking louder than actions, echoing in the cavity of your chest that owns your heart with the love he offers. Things that were once empty now hold a meaning. Everything means something.

A sonic boom calls out on the distant shore. You watch as the streak of white chemtrail marks across the wild blue yonder, writing a story on the cerulean pages. A girl, looking for a new life; and a boy, a charming pilot, finds his new life. Free falling into the unknown of what it might hold, but with a small chance, they took a leap of faith, stumbling through the wind and crash landed onto one another. Through life, came a glimmer of certainty.