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sorchathered · 9 months ago

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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.

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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?

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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

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #top gun bob #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob fucks #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #happy valentine's day

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 10 months ago

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Sex on The Beach (What a Treat)

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Description: You love being a part of the Dagger Squad, but you're well aware there isn't a lot going for you as a woman. You go out on dates - often. But none of those men every meet the mark. Can one drunken night on the beach and one gorgeously bespectacled WSO change your mind? Only the ocean and its waves and your own beating heart can say.

Themes: Virginity, First time, Dirty Talk, Jake has a surprisingly terrible sex story (it's right in the beginning)

Warnings: Bob Fucks!

Word Count: 3291

A/N: This fic is wholly self-indulgent and came to me in an ovulating daydream right in time for @attapullman's International Bob Floyd Fucks Month! I hope you all enjoy it! I'm proud enough to say that yes indeed, Bob Floyd fucks!

Thanks to @horseshoegirl for beta reading this fic for me and telling me that I wasn't writing Bob terribly.

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

The night is cool and clear. A salty breeze rifles through your hair and dampens your face in soft gusts. It’s late, but on the other side of the bonfire, the other Daggers are continuing the party. A part of you is sure the party will still be going when the sun rises. You’re drunk, inhabiting that state of being between tipsy and drunk off your ass. Your cheeks feel hot, and your tongue is uncooperative. You’re not sure when the conversation veered right into a discussion of sex, but it did. You’re also not sure why you’re helplessly giggling about sex with Phoenix and Hangman, of all people.

“And then she bit me!”

You and Nat take one look at each other and cackle. You inhale a little and giggle out, “D-did she really bite your…?”

Jake nods ruefully, a blush rising on his chest as Nat falls back with another delighted peal of laughter. You’re not sure you can look at the man when he looks like he’s still in pain just at the memory of what happened. His blush seems to intensify the more your delighted laughter rings out, and every time you look at Nat, it sets you off again and again. You feel like you can barely breathe; you’re laughing so hard.

When you gasp for breath and sip your drink, your cheeks feel hot, and you can feel the sweat on your temples. You hold the frosty bottle up to your face in a futile attempt to cool off a little. It’s not like you’re wearing too many clothes, choosing to sling on an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of cutoffs over your bikini when the night cooled.

“You know, you’re laughing awfully hard for a girl who hasn’t said a word. We’ve heard from Tash. You’ve obviously heard from me. It’s your turn.”

All of a sudden, your mirth dies off, instead turning into a cold sweat prickling across your exposed skin. You’re trapped in their gazes, Nat’s whiskey eyes staring you down coolly amused while Jake’s absinthe-colored orbs seem to glare right through you.

“Come on, Artemis.”

When Nat begins to plead along with Jake, you cover your face with your fingers and collapse until you can hide your face in your knees.

“Seriously, Artie. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, I’d love to know if you can top getting bitten on the dick mid-blowjob!”

“Seeing as how I don’t have a dick, that would be kind of hard, Bagman!” You deadpan.

But neither of them is pleased with your only input to the conversation so far. They keep needling you, poking and prying. Jake keeps calling you Artie, too, like only he ever has. Ultimately, that’s what has you lifting your head and glaring right at him.

“Don’t call me Artie!” You point at the grinning blond and wag your index finger.

“There she is!” When your glare narrows, he mimes, zipping his lips closed.

You can’t make eye contact as you spit out in a low hiss barely audible over the hissing fire, “I-I’ve never had sex before. I’m a virgin.”

But they heard you, if the wide-eyed glances they share are any indication.

“How is that possible?”

Nat wraps an arm around your shoulders. You shrug, staring into the distance behind Jake’s head. Unconsciously, the three of you have gravitated to the spokes of a triangle, your legs tangled in the center of the blanket in a pile of sand-encrusted limbs. You’re pretty sure you’ve got Jake’s foot poking into your shin, and one of Nat’s legs is slung across yours.

“I’m always going out on dates, so that can’t possibly be true, right?”

But, you have to snort just remembering those dates. “Those guys have always just fallen flat. They’re perfectly nice, decent guys. But we never seem to click. There’s no spark when they kiss me clumsily goodnight outside my front door.”

“Maybe you need to look a little bit closer to home for that kind of intimacy?”

Your head snaps up at the sudden loud, obnoxious tone in Jake’s voice.

“C’mon Tash. Our Artie is a little boring right now. What do you say we go grab a few more drinks?”

You’re too drunk for this shit, and you’re grumbling that fact as you watch Jake and Nat trip and lean over each other as they walk toward the other Daggers. In truth, it would probably make sense if something was going on between the two of them, though you wouldn’t bet on it.

“Y-you’re a virgin?”

The words are said so quietly you half think they’re a figment of your imagination. But you know that voice too well to think you're dreaming.

“But you’re so pretty, Artemis. Those men didn’t deserve you, not at all.”

You smile and pat the blanket with your hand. Bob sits gingerly on the edge of the blanket with his back to the Daggers.

“It’s nice of you to say so, Bob.” His cheeks are pink, and his blue eyes are dark and deep as they stare into your own.

“I’m serious. If it were me, I’d have kissed you until your head was spinning, and those pretty lips were all swollen for me.” You can’t breathe for a completely different reason in comparison to all those minutes ago. You can smell whiskey on his breath, coupled with the smokey sweetness of the bonfire and the floral notes from his cologne.

“Why haven’t you, Bob?”

“I’ve seen the guys you go out with, Sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you can see stars reflect in his lenses, refracting over navy eyes, as he tips his dark blonde head back. “They’re sexy, suave, and debonaire. Why would you pick me over one of them?”

The self-deprecation in his voice has your mood sobering unexpectedly fast.

“You’re just as sexy, suave, and debonaire as they are, Bob.” He snickers gently at your phrasing.

“You don’t really believe that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Unconsciously, you lean forward, needing to get closer to him. One of his hands rises to cup your cheek, and your eyes flutter.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” you muse.

He hums, and his big thumb swipes gently across your cheek.

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t trusted any of the men I go out with.”

“And you trust me?”

“Yes.”

The moment feels electric, like sparks skittering across your skin. Bob’s eyes keep glancing over your lips. The alcohol flowing through your veins frees your inhibitions as you stand and brush sand off of the back of your shorts. Bob blinks at your sudden movement, mouth parted sweetly as you reach for his hands. When he’s standing, he runs his hands through his hair, leaving minute grains interspersed through the golden threads. You can feel his gaze on your skin as you bunch the blanket over your forearm.

“Come here.” You take his hand in yours, gently tugging him away from the bonfire and your friends. Nobody notices your disappearance, which suits you just fine. You make for the little lifeguard shack a couple hundred feet down the beach and lay the blanket out in its shadow.

“What're we doing all the way out here?”

Instead of responding, you fist your hands in his shirt and tug his mouth down until it meets yours. The kiss starts clumsy and bumbling, just a brush of skin to skin. It feels like Bob is trying to figure out how genuine you are, so you keep the pressure light. Already, this tender, fumbling kiss is a million times better for you than those first kisses with those other guys. When Bob gasps and his big hands curl around your hips, you moan.

That small sound leaving your mouth makes Bob wild. His hand wraps around the base of your skull as he licks into your mouth. It feels like you're burning up, skin bursting fever hot just at his touch. His hands divest you of your button-down and your shorts; his fingers are studied and quick as he whispers filth into your ears. His tongue traces hot over your pulse, sucking and nibbling and teasing. You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, whimpering as you rub your thighs together.

“You’re so beautiful for me, my lovely Ari.” His eyes are dark now, just a thin rim of blue wrapped around his pupils as he presses you down onto the blanket.

You’re keening, babbling his name as you straighten his glasses. There's a fond, tender look in Bob's eyes as he dips down to kiss you again.

“Shhh, darling.” His mouth drags wet over your collarbones. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

When his calloused fingers drag your bikini top away, you shiver. Your nipples are peaked and hard as he gazes down at you. It should feel weird being so exposed to a colleague and friend, but all you want is to feel the hard length in his swim shorts pressed up against you.

It's not a choice at all as you mewl, “Please.”

You could fall in love with Bob Floyd's smile, the smirk covering his face when he's feeling confident. When he wraps his lips around the peak of your breast, licking at the swollen flesh with his hot, wet tongue, you’re sure you could fall in love with his mouth, too. You feel like you’re drowning as Bob Floyd kisses over your stomach, placing tender kisses across the stretch marks slicing silver over your skin, as he kneads at your ass with big hands before undoing the knots of your bikini bottoms with his teeth. When the fabric falls away, you exhale, unsure when you started to hold your breath when you know you will need it. You can feel the heat of his breath against that most intimate of places, making you squirm.

“I've got you, Ari.” Even the endearment he's chosen, based on your unfortunate callsign, makes you ache for him. “Mmmm, you're so wet for me.”

His fingers dip gently through your folds, the slow, languid motions making something simmer in your veins. His fingers already feel different from your own, filling your sopping cunt in ways that your own can’t. The brush of his tongue over your clit has your hands burying in his hair, tugging at the soft strands. But his mouth doesn't stay there, nipping at your hips, the tender skin between your thighs, at the soft skin where your pelvis meets your legs. You lose yourself in the feeling of his mouth, babbling his name in whispers and moans. The buildup of your orgasm is already different from when you use your fingers; it is more intense and more fulfilling. When he traces figure eights over your clit with his tongue, you come hard, thighs shaking at the effort of holding them open around his head.

“So beautiful when you come,” he rasps. His glasses are fogged, and his lips are slicked with your release as he settles in between your parted legs. You tug Bob into a kiss, sliding your arms around his neck until his weight rests on you. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you slowly and sweetly.

“Are you sure you want me to do this for you, sweetheart?” His cheeks are pink, his hair falling onto his forehead as he growls the words out.

“All you have to do is tell me, beautiful.” When he nuzzles your breasts and lays an open-mouthed kiss over the peaks, you’re more sure than ever. “We can stop the minute you’re not comfortable anymore. This is about you, after all.”

“Come here, Bobby.”

He looks almost startled as you pull him back into a kiss, sliding your hands under the fitted shirt he’s been wearing all day. His skin is warm and silky smooth, lean muscles flexing under your curious touch.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” You’re whining as you drag the shirt up, and you have to moan when he finally yanks it off. His hair is standing up on end, and his glasses are askew, but right now, you're not sure there is a sexier man on the planet.

“Fuck, you’re hot, Bob.”

His blush deepens, eyes wide at your horny declaration.

“I mean it.”

You tug at the knot of your bikini, wrestling with the strings with clumsy fingers.

“Come here, sweetheart. I’ll get the knot for you.”

You should feel ashamed, naked out on the beach where anyone could happen to see you. But you’re not ashamed at all. His hands gently pushing your hair over your shoulder and his mouth kissing the nape of your neck are why. When the triangles of fabric fall from your skin, you turn and kiss Bob again. You could get drunk off of the feeling of his lips against yours, off the way he licks into your mouth. Emboldened by the look in his eyes, you let your hands trail down until they dip below the waistband of his swim shorts.

“God, sweetheart. There you go.” He’s grunting and gasping against your mouth as you wrap your hands around him. For the first time since you kissed Bob, you feel a little out of your depths. He’s big, so big that you need both hands to hold him, big enough you’re not sure he’ll fit. When you voice your worries in a quiet, gasping whisper, he chuckles.

“It’ll fit in that pretty pussy, baby. Just gotta work you up good, and it’ll slide right on in.”

You squeak as he lays you down again because, for the first time, you can hear his accent as he drawls out the words. From this angle, your mouth parts in shock at the sight of him. Bob’s biting at his lip as he rolls a condom on, and that sight makes you giggle a little.

“Of course, you have a condom on you.”

When he snickers, you know you’re going to want more of this with him. “I, um… Jake gave it to me.”

You cover your face with your hands and squeal a little more.

“He’s been trying to get me to ask you out for months now, darling. I wish I’d known a few shots of tequila and a conversation about sex would be all it would take.”

“Are you calling me easy, Bob Floyd?” You’re pouting, but it doesn’t last for long as he seems to blanche at your teasing. When you laugh, he dips down to kiss you, and you hum at how good it feels.

“I think we’re both a little easy for each other. All we needed was a little push.”

He runs his hands up your thighs, smoothing over the flesh as he parts your legs a little more.

“It’s your last chance to stop this, Ari. You just have to tell me.” You can feel him hard against you as he kisses you again. “We can get dressed and just walk back to the bonfire. Maybe we can try again later.”

“We’re not stopping, not now, Bob.”

Your voice isn’t exactly firm, more breathy than anything, but it makes Bob smile. He guides himself into you, and from the first press, you’re sure you’ve never felt so full. It doesn’t hurt, but it does feel uncomfortable.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart.” There’s sweat beading up on his temples, and his jaw is tight as he growls out the words. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Relax for me, baby.” You melt when he kisses you, shivering at the feeling of his bare skin pressing into yours. He rubs gently at your sides, calloused fingers gentle as they pluck at your nipples. It’s when he kisses you again that you relax. Inch by slow, incremental inch, Bob fills you. He kisses you when you tense around his length, a WSO’s patience and talent filling each heavy moment.

When he bottoms out in you, you feel like a live wire. The sparks floating across your skin are back, arcing through your veins until they’re molten with lust. The first few times he pulls out of you and presses in again, it feels just as uncomfortable as that first slow slide. When his fingers find your clit and massage it in counter rhythm to the push-pull of his cock, you gasp, open-mouthed and silent. All of a sudden, it feels so good; you couldn’t describe it if you tried.

“Fuck,” Bob’s vocal in bed. You wouldn’t think it, looking at him. It’s also incredibly flattering. “You’re so tight for me, Ari. Fuck, baby girl. Your pussy’s perfect. I’m so lucky.”

You’re gasping and moaning, trying desperately to quell the feral sounds spilling out of your mouth. Each thrust has your fingers scrabbling for purchase in the beach blanket under you, knuckles whitening under the pressure. Unbidden, you can feel your orgasm cresting, stronger than the last.

“Bob,” You’re nearly sobbing because everything you feel is nearly too much to handle. “Please, Bobby. Gonna cum!”

When those talented fingers find their way to your swollen clit and massage it, you come. His hips stutter even as your legs wrap around his waist, and he roars against your chest as he comes after you. You feel like you’ve been stunned. If this is what sex feels like, you’re not sure why you waited as long as you did. Or maybe it’s not just the sex that was mind-blowing, but the man you just had sex with? He’s blushing again, sweat dripping down his chest as he helps you dress with slow deliberate motions. You steal kisses whenever you can, because, yeah, you're falling in love with his mouth and his tongue and his voice.

“Got to get you cleaned up before we head back to the bonfire. C’mon, Ari.”

After everything you’ve done with Robert Floyd, holding hands shouldn’t make you giggle so much. But you need his helping hand in more ways than one. There’s already a dull ache at the base of your spine, but you refuse to let that feeling beat you.

Unfortunately, Bob leads you back toward the parking lot, squeezing your fingers and smiling softly at you as you lean onto him. But everything is dark and silent the closer you get. The bonfire is glowing embers in the sand, and all of the cars are gone from the parking lot. Your bag is sitting in the tailgate of Bob’s truck, and you have text messages on the device explaining how everyone has headed out. They’re from at least an hour ago.

He better be good to you, Artie.

Jake’s message is the only one in which your friends allude to knowing what happened between you and Bob. When you turn back around, Bob’s biting at his bottom lip, worrying the flesh with his teeth. His hands are in his pockets, and for the first time, he seems anxious.

“Can I take you home, Ari?”

You hum, tugging his mouth down to yours for another kiss.

“Take me home, Bob.” Your voice is a whisper as you let Bob crowd you against his truck.

“I can do that, Ari. But, can I also take you to dinner sometime, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” You shiver as he kisses your pulse. “But only if I get your big dick again, Bobby.”

He swats your ass as he helps you into the cab of the truck.

“Everything I am is yours, baby girl.”

This sounds like the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Though, given the chance, you’re going to avoid having sex on the beach again. Sand rubbing you raw isn't quite so fun when you'd rather have Bob do that for you.

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 HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@shanimallina87 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob fucks #international bob floyd fucks month

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ronearoundblindly · 8 months ago

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Pirate & Pin Cushion (2)

Jake Jensen x gn! ops!Reader

Confidence Is The Absence Of Control (see previous)

A continuation of a Valentine's drabble wherein you got stabbed on a mission. When Jake, your 'Banter Bro' friend and secret crush, asks where you're not hurting, your sassy retort leads him to kiss you, but you passed out shortly after. This is what happens when you momentarily wake up in recovery.

Warnings for dirty jokes (it's not really innuendo when you just say the quiet part) and foul language. WC 638

“Take it easy,” you hear, your insides seeming to travel at mach speed until crashing into your skin as you wake. “You’ve been out a couple days.”

You wouldn’t be able to tell someone your name if they asked you right now, but a cute, bespectacled man with golden tipped hair sits concerned by your side.

You open your mouth to speak. It might as well be find with dust and cobwebs. Swallowing hurts. Or does it? Physical sensations feel so far away, detached from your body.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” the man says again.

Jake. He looks like a Jake. You remember Jake?

You stare at your feet, one of which itches, but you can’t move it and in this brain fog, it hardly matters.

Trying to speak once more gets your point across.

Jake scrambles for the cup of water next to him and holds it steady. Eternity passes as you sip, wake, and become aware, but you’re hardly aware of anything. It’s all very unreal.

“Don’t worry, PC, they got you the good stuff. Heavy duty meds. Nothing but the best.”

“PC?” you croak.

Jake smirks warily. “For Pin Cushion. Eh, I’m test-driving it,” he shrugs.

“You smile pretty.”

Pink floods Jake’s cheeks. “Thank you?”

Using all your might and concentration, your hand moves to his. “You got thick arms.”

“Right, so, you remember when I said you’re on medication..?”

“I think your glasses are sexy.”

Jake snorts and glances around, muttering to himself. “I’m not sure you want me here for this conversa—“

“You deserve sex,” you add matter-of-factly. “Lots of it. Hot guy like you.”

Each word is slow like molasses, and though Jake doesn’t stop or interrupt you, he grips the back of his neck and keeps looking around.

“Oh boy.”

“I’d have sex with you—water—“ you request and he realigns the straw with your mouth, eyes slightly bugging out “—like…whenever.”

You’re content to take a few more delicate pulls that feel more like torturous gulps, but you can’t not drink and you can’t stop talking.

“I watch your ass. But not like ‘watch your six,’ I mean I watch your ass. It’s a good ass. Cargo pants are dumb. You should were something tighter.”

“Okay, maybe more sleep now?!” Jake’s voice soars an octave mid-sentence.

“Hey, hey,” you insist, “come ‘ere.”

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the heavy bob of his Adam’s apple fascinating you for a long moment.

Jake holds his breath, waiting.

“What did you want to say?” he whispers.

Your eyes ‘jump’ up to his, crawling over his features at the same pace it would take you to lick a path up it.

“Huh?”

“You��were gonna tell me something.”

All you can do is blink. “I don’t know. I just like to look at you.”

Jake doesn’t move a muscle before your brain comes up with a replacement question.

“If I dress like a laptop for Halloween, would you touch me?”

He slaps a hand over his mouth, grin so wide his palm can’t cover the whole thing.

“Do you mean—“ he wheezes in amusement “—you mean would I finger your keyboard?” He dissolves into uproarious laughter. “Oh man, I gotta record this.”

As he digs his phone out of his pocket, you’re hit with a wave of fatigue. Maybe rest is a good idea. Maybe you’re not fully alive again yet.

“Okay,” Jake clears his throat, “PC, what were you saying about Halloween? One more time.”

You don’t even acknowledge the phone shoved into your face. You only hold his soft, twinkling blue gaze.

“I should have told you before I died,” you drawl, sleep taking over, “I love you.”

Jake’s face falls, stunned, but still the last thing you hear is ‘Pin Cushion’ as if it’s miles away.

A/N: For reference, Reader did not die, is not dead, and does not die at any point in this story. 😉 They are just drugged out of their mind.

[Final Part: Painful...But In A Good Way]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @peyton--warren @rogersbarber @irishhappiness @km-ffluv @bigtreefest @thezombieprostitute

#jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen angst #pirate and pin cushion

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quaissants · 7 months ago

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ISA LANG ୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ˒ JAY

purpose born to be niki coded, transformed into arthur nery coded ・ gender neutral reader + word count 857 genre fluff .. angst .. best friends au warnings mention of food note i swear this is based on a dialogue prompt but i forgot the user — return to the academy

jay wasn’t made for late nights.

as much as he doesn’t want to stir guilt within his best friend, he struggles to conceal the symptoms. swallowed by his wrinkled hoodie, he curls his tired figure against the headboard. the light hum of the air conditioning can’t conceal the yawns that falter from his lips every now and then.

through half-lidded eyes, he watches you huff one more time during your battle with your phone. jay may be sleepy, but he hasn’t breached the line between reality and fantasy. how could he when you’re so eager to show him something?

apparently you’d finally taken the near-full storage warning seriously and begun your trip down memory lane. it wasn’t the easiest task to fulfill, but for the integrity of your phone’s health (and future mementos that you were definitely going to earn), it was about time. besides, it’d brought you back to this elusive picture—that had sunk into the trenches of your gallery once more because you forgot that making a folder or saving it in favorites exist—that jay was just a little eager to see.

the bespectacled male’s frames hang on the precipice right when you exclaim, “here, finally found it!”

it’s almost comical how quickly he sits up the moment the announcement comes. he doesn’t like the taste of caffeine during hours like this, yet he absorbs the side effects of your excitement so eagerly. of course, he’ll always defend himself by claiming the circumstances are different—you’re different.

shuffling closer until he can feel your warmth—and smell your apple-cinnamon scented fabric softener—pressed next to him, he looks down at your phone screen. truthfully, and with little thoughts he had during the passing hour, he’d expected to see a picture of from a special occasion, your friends and family. if he had to stretch a little, perhaps a picture of your ex who triggered some sirens in his mind.

(only god, and his other best friends, know how relieved he was to learn that his radar weren’t far off. that, and you had believed him even when he himself was doubting his own instincts. he saved you a chapter of migraines and arguments.)

but no, he was actually staring at himself. well, his past self, but still him—park jay. your partner in crime, go-to consultant for a variety of matters (specializing in both look and cook books), best friend for this life and the following ones.

and he doesn’t even try to hide his confusion. “that’s.. me.”

“obviously,” you laugh, unintentionally drawing more invisible question marks over his head. “see, that’s one of the ways i knew you had fallen so deep into that conversation. i’d also forgotten to turn off the shutter sound at the time, but you didn’t flinch.”

as intently as he stares at the photo, jay can’t recall this moment in particular. he still owns that denim jacket, but it’s been a while since he’s seen those natural mocha tresses. his jaw’s a little sharper, but his eyes retain that soft edge you claim he possesses. with so many contrasts, it throws him off the timeline. but it’s not like he keeps track of things he himself says anyway, so he doubts he’ll remember without a refresher.

“wait, pause right there.. what was i talking about?”

“i can’t remember either.”

..that felt like the antonym of what he was looking for.

obviously amused by jay’s bewildered expression, you decide to throw him a stem. “i don’t think i was even part of the conversation in the first place. we were at jake’s birthday party, yet you, him, and sunghoon seemed to forget about that since the three of you were mostly glued to the living room. if heeseung hadn’t called you guys over so the birthday boy could blow out the candles, we would have cut the cake already.”

oh that; jay can remember that part. it’s not that he has favorites you’re his number one but when he and his fellow liner friends land in the same space and time, they’re bound to talk as if they haven’t seen each other in years. ironic, since he’s pretty sure they were just chatting on discord about their genshin pulls a few hours before the party, but he digresses.

“right, but still, what’s up with this picture? was it just a random snap for your photo dump?” he asks, more curious than anything else; definitely more than tired.

“i just really liked how passionate you seemed to be in that moment. you were so.. expressive, i guess? like, even if i had no idea what you were talking about, i could tell that it meant a lot to you. and then you’d do these small gestures to paint a more clear picture for the two, even add some silly sound effects to the moves. our other friends would smile or even chuckle over how enthusiastic you sounded before returning to their conversations, whereas i was pretty much stuck watching you go on and on.”

“sounds like i had you wrapped around my finger then.” he jests, lighthearted words complemented by the slight curve of his rosy lips.

you play along; rolling your eyes like it hurt to admit it. “i mean you’re not that far off. god, i almost fell in love with you then.”

god, he wish you had.

🎐 .. @stealanity @strxwberry-skiess @sohnric @sanaxo-o + send an ask to be added!

QUAISSANTS, 2024. do not steal or else i bite.

#k-labels #hiraya-m #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #park jay x reader #park jay imagines #park jay scenarios

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indybob · 11 months ago

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Thinking about a Dagger Squad New Year’s Eve party, and Bradley psyching himself up to kiss Jake at midnight. He drives himself crazy all night, pining for Jake from a distance and up close. From the other side of the room, Natasha shakes her head at his failed flirting attempts, and he gets some awkward thumbs ups from Bob. God bless the bespectacled man for trying to encourage Bradley when he’s completely fumbling.

A drinking game gives Bradley an excuse to get drunk and wallow over how he’s blown it. After a couple shots, midnight quickly approaches, and Bradley finds himself feeling pleasantly buzzed, his bad mood forgotten as the alcohol sets in. When the countdown starts, he stands next to Jake, who looks as beautiful as ever.

Thanks to the liquid courage, Bradley throws caution to the wind at midnight, laying a deep and passionate kiss on Jake’s lips. The cheers ringing out turn to wolf whistles as the squad notices the kiss.

Bradley smiles awkwardly at Jake when they break apart, “Happy New Year, Jake.”

Jake smirks at him, face flushed from the kiss when he says, “Well it certainly is now.”

Jake kisses Bradley again, and they both giggle like little kids when Natasha loudly says, “It’s about damn time.”

#i will never get tired of making them get togther #they’re meant to be #and new years makes for the perfect reason for them to kiss #hangster #sereshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #my writing

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soft-girl-musings · 11 months ago

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Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 3 (My Way Of Life)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief description of injury

wc: 1,676

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: old habits die hard.

----------

You've never put much stock in wishes coming true.

Hard work, determination, and a bit of luck are what your faith lies in. Wanting something so badly that it comes to be? Nothing more than a fantasy.

At least, that's what you had believed before tonight.

The back table has been empty for a while– all evening, to be precise. You catch yourself looking toward the door between interactions. No Wesley. No Lockley.

It's Tuesday night.

Before you head backstage, you see a new guest being led to the back table. You rush to intercept, startling the poor waiter.

“Mr. Manalo, a word?” You smile apologetically at the guest and take his escort aside. “What are you doing, Teddy?”

His eyes turn frantic. “I was seating a guest, ma’am. Did I do something wrong?”

You glance at the clock behind the bar: twenty minutes past the hour, with the usual party nowhere in sight. They’re never this late.

“Miss,” Teddy urgently whispers, as the patron has started to get restless. “There’s no reservation tonight. I-I mean, not for this table, but for James Wesley, either.”

You can’t help how your face falls at the news. “I see,” you chirp, forcing yourself to perk up. “Then please make sure this gentleman enjoys his table. With a drink on the house for the inconvenience.” You pat his shoulder and step away.

Weren’t you counting down the days until his smug face stopped haunting your evenings? Didn’t it grate at your nerves to tiptoe around your own lounge twice a week, guarded and on edge? Isn't this a wish come true?

Later you walk onstage with the band and give your usual spiel. The applause rings hollow. As you scan the room, the man at the back table doesn’t even look your way, too engrossed in his dinner. You place a hand on your stomach to ease the knot that forms with every breath, along with the sinking feeling that something isn’t right.

But the show must go on.

----------

There's a cruel duality to Jake's commission.

Protecting the travelers of the night was, in a way, second nature long before his life became what it is now. Whenever he was out, he had his eye on the underdogs, the vulnerable on the outskirts. Most people were his people. It's the other side of the coin, the means to the end that eventually made his oath a burden, turning his cab into a hearse once the sun goes down.

Not all his passengers give him the courtesy of a quiet departure.

That's the case tonight, the throbbing pain above his eye reminds him. James Wesley didn’t go down without a fight. Jake came out on top– he always does– but there was a surprising ferocity behind Wesley’s bespectacled stare as he dealt a gnarly blow to fend off the inevitable. Stumbling through the night, vision spinning and blurring all at once, Jake wonders if the risk in confronting him unarmed was calculated well enough.

This would not have happened if you had used my gifts.

“Of course you wouldn't let me suffer in silence,” Jake mutters. The old bird has never been one for stellar bedside manner.

You have lost focus, my son.

“Oh I'm plenty focused, big guy. Right now I'm focused on not–” he coughs, mouth tasting of pennies and regret as his head wound steadily bleeds, “–not passing out in the street.”

The night air shifts around Jake as he continues to stumble down the pavement. The waning shape of the moon seems to glare down at him, its light as cold as the wind that stings his labored lungs.

The task at hand requires your full attention, and unless you are aided by my gifts–

“Oh yeah, what a gift. Sharp suit and a few tricks, pretty fair tradeoff for being your puppet.”

A sudden gust of wind nearly makes Jake lose his footing.

Remember your debt, Jake Lockley. I have something your fractured mind wants.

Jake spits, staining the sidewalk red. “Maybe what I want is for you to see you have something to lose, too.” His breath is harder to come by, chest heaving as his temper flares. “Think you've been gettin’ too comfortable with our arrangement.”

You would risk killing yourself to make a point? Look at what your tantrum has cost you.

Jake finally stops walking, turning to catch a glimpse of himself in a shop window. He barely makes out the reflection of a hardened, bloodied man, staring back in resounding silence.

Do you think you would know a moment's peace if they knew a stranger inhabited the body? A murderer?

“You know damn well I’ve always done what I've had to do,” he grunts, slumping against the wall. “Done what you've told me to. They'd hate you more than me.”

Maintain your recklessness, and they’ll never have the opportunity for hatred. You'll bury them with you.

----------

“Sometimes I wish you lived closer to the lounge, this walk is too long.”

The night air nips at your faces as Matt treks dutifully beside you on the way to your apartment. You try not to make a habit of late nights, but over the past few weeks it's been harder to step away after sending everyone home. There's always one more loose end to tie up, another addition to the rehearsal schedule to jot down, some final complaint to resolve with a staff member. You'd all but live in the lounge if Matt didn't make it his mission to take you home every night, keeping you from falling asleep at your vanity if he could help it.

You roll your eyes. “You're welcome to hitch a ride with your favorite cab driver next time, since you're thick as thieves.” You surprise yourself with how bitter you sound; no matter how you feel about the company he keeps, he doesn't deserve your ire. “Sorry. I'm just a bit out of sorts tonight.”

He laughs at your jab, then turns more serious. “Yeah, I could tell. You sounded… distracted when I heard you wrapping up. Everything alright?”

You tighten your coat around yourself as you continue walking. Your shoes click against the pavement, punctuating the silence between you as you search for your words.

“That man, your friend Jake… he wouldn't get you in trouble, would he?”

Matt smirks as he weighs your question. “What's a little trouble now and then? You know I can take it.”

“I'm serious, Matthew.” You link his arm with yours and slow your pace. “I know he's more than your client, but I don't want to see you get hurt.”

Matt Murdock has been your friend longer than he's been your lawyer. As he walks you home for the thousandth time, that same uneasy feeling from before rises in your stomach. Your thumb traces his sleeve. “I can't afford to lose you.”

His hand finds yours and stills it, pausing for a moment. “You won't. I promise.”

You search his face in the yellowed streetlights. You're typically at a disadvantage when it comes to one of you being able to lie to the other, but right now you believe him. Or at least, that he believes himself.

He pats your hand and resumes walking. “I have to say, Jake's not a bad guy to have in your corner. A bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure he'd be on your team if you'd let him.”

You sigh. “We don't have to keep talking about him. He takes up enough of my time when he deigns to show up and pester me.”

Matt's eyes crinkle behind his glasses. “Level with me: is he really that unbearable?”

“Yes.” You shake your head after a moment, mind racing like it was when you realized his weekly routine was broken. “No… I don't know.”

The man has been a nuisance, but when you think about it, he's never been more than an annoyance with his cheeky persistence. Jake's like a puppy that continues to get underfoot, staring up at you with big brown eyes whenever you offer a crumb of attention. You may loathe his yapping, but without it, something was missing tonight.

“I know a friend of yours is bound to be decent,” you concede, “but I can't get over the feeling that he's hiding something. And I'm not too fond of anyone who makes me question what they could have up their sleeve.”

Matt nods as you talk, hesitant before responding. “You know, it's not completely fair to push him away because you don't know him… when all he seems to want is the chance to let you.”

You scoff at the thought. “You know full well I don't have time for entanglements, Matty. You've seen the blackmail. There's too much on the line to get distracted.”

“Sometimes distraction is a good thing.”

“That's rich coming from you.”

“Alright, so I'm not the most social guy,” he laughs. “But you should still think about what I'm saying. Jake's alright in my book.”

You remove your arm from his, wrapping it around yourself again. “It doesn't matter, anyway. He didn't show tonight. Bigwig client of his must have found a new rendezvous spot.”

You see Matt's jaw clench at the mention of Mr. Wesley. “You know something.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Don't lie to me, Matty. You know something about that man he's been driving, don't you?” You walk slightly ahead, studying his face as you press on. “And I bet you know where they went tonight.”

Matt stops in his tracks, rigid and alert. You've learned that look, the one that tells you he's latched onto something like a bloodhound and won't rest until he hunts it down.

“Something's wrong.”

He takes off down the sidewalk, barely giving you time to catch up as he rounds the corner. A few more twists and turns in your route and you finally stop.

There, slumped against the brick wall of the apartment complex, bleeds out half of your 7 o’clock reservation.

----------

A/N: besties this is now a 10-chapter project... how did i get here

i am living for the speculation and hype in the tags/rbs, please don't feel shy-- let me know where your head is with all this! of course, if you are shy, no pressure. glad to have you along for the ride either way :)

as always, thank you for reading <3

tag list: @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedroo, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#my works #moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock #khonshu

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years ago

Note

I have two baby blurb thoughts 🫢 don’t feel pressured to do either one if you don’t want to!! Maybeeee visiting Jake on base and meeting the rest of the dagger squad for the first time?? Ty baby <33 so glad you’re back!

for you, always 😗 <3 hehe

“She’s real,” you hear a female voice cut through the air, and look up to find yourself staring at a gorgeous brunette who you deduce to be Phoenix.

“Told ya,” Javy, the only one you know from the lot by virtue of his friendship with Jake, says with a somewhat smug grin.

“She’s beautiful,” chimes in another voice, Fanboy as you will soon learn, which earns a nod from the taller man, Payback, beside him.

“If he is holding you against your will, blink twice,” a man with a moustache chimes in with a grin, and the welcoming warmth in his eyes make you smile. It follows with a small wave from the bespectacled man standing beside him who smiles at you almost shyly as you reciprocate his wave, an understanding flowing between you both.

“Back off Bradshaw,” Jake growls half heartedly as he pulls you closer into his side, “don’t you traumatise my girl.”

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lewmagoo · 6 days ago

Note

🌹

have a great weekend!!

have some more from stranger than earth, my dystopian bob fic:

Bob sighed, already able to sense the blush that was creeping onto his ears. He hated it, because it was as if his own body was betraying him, which gave Jake the satisfaction of knowing he was, in fact, getting under the bespectacled man’s skin.

The teasing was all in good fun, but Bob didn’t really find it funny. Despite that, the guys continued to talk about how he needed to “man up” and ask you out.

#asks #they better leave my boy alone

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imdoingmybest0 · 1 year ago

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Bob was in a Frat??

..............................................................................................................................

Bob Floyds "Brothers" from college come for a visit to see Bobs new life in the Navy. The dagger crew find out that the man they nicknamed 'Baby' used to be quite a legend before they met him. Robert "Bob/Baby" Floyd x fem!character 18+, Minor DNI. Mature Themes, mentions of sexual exploits and alcohol consumption (all 21+)

..............................................................................................................................

Bob Floyd is a shy man, always the first to offer to be the DD and the type of guy to pull a drunk persons phone off of the bar, before Penny notices. Well maybe shy isn't the word to describe him. Quiet might be better, he's content to sit on a bar stool shelling peanuts shittily into a cup in his lap and speaking to whomever approaches him.

Which is why when the Dagger squad found out Bob was in a frat in college came as such a surprise. The thought of Bob rushing a frat, pounding down beer, and flirting with everyone in his vicinity is hard to picture. But here sat four of his 'brothers', chatting with Bobs new family surrounding a pool table.

"Yes sir!" said, Carlton, one of the frat brothers who was stood talking to of course, Hangman, "Sigma Alpha Epsilon, Bobby was actually the one who roped me into joining." he continued grinning at Bob who was leaning one hip on the green, felt table face red with embarrassment.

"Oh really," Jake said with a mischievous look towards Bob, "what made you wanna do something like that Bobby?", Hangman drew out the nickname in a teasing tone.

Bob shrugged, "Seemed like any easy way to make friends and add onto my resume."

Carlton laughed, "Thats not what you told me Bobby! I remember you saying 'Dude, think about it, beer and girls.' I don't think you were thinking with the right head back then, man."

"Now hold on," Jake cuts in, "that's where this tale gets too tall for me. I could believe that 'Baby on Board' here used to get hammered on cheap beer and maybe even saying 'dude'. But Bob? Chasin' skirts? That's unrealistic." He laughs lightheartedly, and Carlton joins in. Bobs face remains red.

"Well come one, cut him some slack." it's another one of Bobs 'brothers', TJ. "If I remember correctly, Bob could take home the first girl he took a shot with.", TJ claps a hand over Bobs shoulder. "Hell, one time I saw him walking a girl to the door in the morning looking like she was still comin' back down from heaven."

Another brother, Harris cut in, "But whenever they shut that door shut, you'd think she was in hell."

Rooster almost choked on his drink, "You're kidding me. Our Baby here had game?"

Bob smirks at Rooster, "What do you mean, had?"

Hangman cackles, "Oh come off it Bobby, I've never even seen you approach a girl, much less take one home."

"Well yea," says Bobs "I'm to busy takin care of you drunks to try."

"Oh really?" says Coyote, "How about we make a bet, if you can get a girls number in the next ten minutes, I'll buy all of us a round. If you can't, you buy."

Bob hands the pool cue he'd been holding to James ,the last of his frat pals who gave him a winning look, knowing either way they would be getting free drinks out of it. "Might wanna go make your order Coyote." Bob says as he makes his way into the crowd of patrons.

The group of men watch for a moment, occasionally seeing the tall, bespectacled man appear between pillars and people. He's gone for a moment before Harris says, "Three o'clock, the one in the pink and the one with the curly hair, at the high-tops." The group looks to see Bob, forearms casually resting on one of the tall chairs speaking to the two women.

He was turned so that the group by the pool tables could see when his lips moved but not enough where they could make out what he was saying to the two of them. He was leaning on the chair but made sure to give both of the women personal space. He casually pointed to one of their wrists, the woman touched her beaded bracelet and started talking quickly with a smile on her face. Bob nodded occasionally while she spoke and smiled when she made eye contact with him. He pulled out his phone, and showed the girls his lock screen, they both made 'awe' faces and smiled up at him.

He made a small gesture to himself, and the to the door, presumably to the port down the road. He nodded his head slightly to one side while speaking and the girls laughed. He gave a shy smile to the girl with the bracelet and adjusted his glasses and said something else. She blushed and glanced to her friend, who nodded excitedly.

Then Bob was pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to her, she quickly typed something into it, and handed it back to Baby Bobby Floyd.

Bob said one or two more words to the women and gave a small wave, before making his way back around the bar towards the pool tables.

Hangman slapped his hand on Carlton's shoulder as Bob approached in a swirl of whistles and congratulations with a shy smile and blush adorning his face, "I guess we are buyin' you boys a round then, huh."

..............................................................................................................................

A/N; I tried to make the two ladies pretty neutral so its easier to picture anyone as them :) I did kind of intend for the Bracelet and Bobs Lock screen to be a TSwift bracelet and a photo of Bob and his twin sister at an Eras concert but it could easily be a pet rescue thing and a photo of his pet, or whatever you'd like :D

- okay, bye, thanks for reading, luv u <3

#bob floyd #BobFloydoneshot #TGM #robert 'bob' floyd #bob floyd x female character #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bobfloydisagentleman #bob fucks #minors fuck off #top gun fic #tgm smut #tgm x reader

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years ago

Note

So I've thought a lot about how big an asshole jake would be if he introduced bob to his soulmate but I've only just considered how much would change if bob introduced jake to his... checkmate bagman

I love this idea so much. This can also be seen as a follow up to He's All That!

"All I'm saying, Baby on Board," Jake continued as he racked up the pool balls, "Is that it's the least you can do, considering that if it weren't for me, you'd still be single."

"And all I'm saying bagman is thanks again for your help and you'll get a shoutout in the ceremony," Bob sighed before taking another sip of his water. With the way Jake was bothering him, he was debating switching to beer.

"Jacob Floyd has a great ring to it and would be a wonderful way to honor the man responsible for your future children."

"All you did was tell her his name and that Bob was single," Mickey retorted, shaking his head as he grabbed a nearby pool stick.

"Summarizing what I did as merely telling her his name is insulting beyond belief. I sold Bob to Luna. Without me, she wouldn't have gone looking for him," Jake scoffed.

Unfortunately the woman of the hour was not here to confirm or deny if Jake was telling the truth or making up shit as he went along.

"And without us, he wouldn't have had those three shots to give him enough courage to continue talking to her," Bradley countered.

"Nor would I had bumped into her because you took my glasses," Bob muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Besides, Bradley Floyd sounds way better," He remarked, ignoring the scoff from Jake.

"Wait, why do you get a kid named after you?" Mickey chimed in.

"All I'm saying, is that you'd much rather start your kid off right by giving them my name than Bradshaw's."

"Why, you little-"

"Bob has to propose to her first before there are any kids to name!" Phoenix chimed in, pressing her beer bottle to her temple, hoping it would somehow take her away from all these idiots.

"He's working on it!" Bob had revealed earlier that he finally picked up the ring for her, which was what prompted this whole conversation.

"Working on what?" A sweet, lithe voice promptly caused everyone to shut up. Everyone, except Bob ironically.

"Hey darlin'! Where's your friend?" Bob asked before placing a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.

"She's on her way! I was going to wait outside for her, but wanted to say hi first," She paused, a sweet smile overtaking her face, "Hi Robby."

"Hi Luna," Bob giggled before planting a kiss on her lips that was so sweet, the nearby squad groaned.

"They're so stupidly cute," Phoenix muttered.

"I'm going to go wait for her," Luna was about to turn when she stopped, her eyes meeting Jake's, "You ready Bagman?"

Jake scoffed to cover his confusion, "Ready for what?"

She giggled, the bridge of her nose creasing as she smiled, making it impossible to be annoyed with her, "To meet your future wife!"

And with that she left, practically skipping out of the bar.

"Floyd, what the hell is she talking about?" Jake asked, turning his full attention to the bespectacled WSO, one had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

"We're not going to name our kid after you. Instead, we're going to introduce you to your future wife." Bob was pretty confident for once, not at all shaken by having all eyes on him.

"I'm sorry?" was all Jake could find himself saying.

"Don't worry Bagman, you'll love her. She's perfect for you."

"Floyd, no offense-"

"Offense already taken."

"But your idea of the perfect woman is a bit different from mine."

It wasn't. In fact, it was pretty similar. But Bob knew Jake wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

"Yeah Bob, you sure this girl is right for Hangman?" Phoenix lowered her voice, "You really want to subject her to Bagman? How bad is she?"

"She's perfect for Bagman," Bob assured her, not that if convinced Nat-or anyone else. Certainly not Jake.

"Whatever baby on board," Jake scoffed, "Just know that when she comes crying to you, all heartbroken that she's not....."

His voice trailed off as his eyes fully took in the sight of the sun dress-clad figure that was now next to Luna at the bar.

"She's not the what?" Javy asked, nudging Jake.

Javy received no response, as Jake was too mesmerized by how fucking adorable you were when you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

He could see that you were listening to Luna intently as she pointed out people in the dagger squad.

When your eyes met his, Jake swore he could feel the Earth stop moving.

"The future Mrs. Seresin," He said with a dreamy sigh, causing Bradley and Natasha to wonder if somehow an alien had taken over his body. Because that would make more sense the other alternative.

Jake all but shoved the pool stick to Javy, his eyes focused on you. The smile and small wave you sent his way caused Jake to nearly trip over his feet.

"Where the hell are you going, the game isn't finished," Mickey called out to no avail.

"I'm going to meet my future wife," Jake said, annoyed that he even had to explain it because wasn't it obvious?

The squad watched in wonder (except for Bob, who still had a smug look on his face) as Jake made his way over to you and Luna.

"Bob, this girl seems sweet. You sure you want to subject her to Bagman?" Bradley asked, legitimate concern in his eyes.

Bob shrugged, "She teaches seventh grade. She'll be able to put Bagman in his place just fine. See?"

The group watched as you handed Jake several bottles of beer to hold. Jake was more than happy to oblige, staring at you with what could only be described as heart eyes.

Luna skipped ahead, giving the squad a thumbs up as she sat down next to Bob.

"How's it going darlin'?" Bob asked before pressing a light but sweet kiss to her cheek.

"Bagman tried to kiss her on the wrist and she lectured him about how it's not the 1950s," Luna giggled while everyone else stared at her in shock.

Everyone except for Bob.

"He apologized profusely. That's also why he offered to carry the drinks."

"Has he ever held anyone's drinks besides his own?" Mickey asked.

"Better question, has he ever apologized within five minutes of offending someone?" Bradley countered.

"He sure as fuck hasn't," Natasha's eyes widened at the sight of Jake fucking Seresin offering the crook of his arm to you. After staring at the gesture long enough to make him sweat, you hooked your arm around his, letting him lead you back to everyone.

"Bob, what the fuck did you do?" Reuben asked.

"He just needed someone to soften the edges!" Luna explained. Natasha was about to scoff at the mere idea of Hangman being soft.

But then she saw how gentle Jake was when he offered you his stool and handed you a beer. The smile he had on his face was just that, uncharacteristically soft.

Maybe Bob and his lady were onto something.

"Hey Bagman!" Bob called out.

"Yeah?" Jake turned around, trying his best hide his annoyance at Bob interrupting the conversation he was having with you.

"Robert Seresin has a great ring to it."

#my writing #jake seresin x reader #Bob Floyd #jake seresin #Hangman fluff #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin

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callsignspark · 1 year ago

Text

Mar[r]y Me - part six

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, one (1) drunk asshole, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 5.9k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it's August here in the real world but it's Valentine's Day in the Mar[r]y Me universe, so what will these two do surrounded by love and pink hearts? can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts!

part six - pancakes

God, I made a mistake.

Bradley has suffered through five days of the same thought on a constant loop. His brain started up the second he walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Only getting short reprieves when he had to fly. Even being asleep wasn’t safe; Mary had been consuming his nights, wonderful dreams of being with her intermixed with bad dreams of having to watch her with another man.

He felt like he was living one of those nightmares for the last three songs, watching Mary dance and giggle with some guy in his twenties.

I should be the one making her laugh. My hands should be on her hips, not his.

He cursed Natasha for dragging them to this stupid Valentine’s Day speed-dating event. Except, the speed dating isn’t actually speed dating; it’s some sort of convoluted speed dancing.

As announced by the host, there are only two rules:

Every person must wear the wristband they received upon entry; the wristbands correspond to your relationship status, so respect the color code system.

If you’re dancing, you have to dance with a new person for each song.

“Unless you’re really hitting it off with your dance partner.” DJ Socket had added with a wink before starting the night off with a horrible remixed version of My Funny Valentine.

Natasha, Callie, and Mary had laughed at the bad song choice before throwing back a shot of tequila and shimmying their way to the dance floor, pink wristbands glowing under the disco ball.

According to the event flyer that had been spammed in the group chat for the last two weeks, a pink wristband meant single and ready to mingle.

Bradley watches as the infant with a bad haircut tries to hit on Mary to what he thinks is a Justin Bieber song, absentmindedly playing with his own wristband. White. Here for fun, not to flirt.

He’s having a terrible time.

“Rooster. Rooster? Bradley!”

The use of his real name snaps him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Bob, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay. You don’t look great.”

He feels his heart clench a little bit. He’s always had a soft spot for the bespectacled man, Bob paying attention to small things that others rarely caught. Though even a blind person could see the way Bradley is staring at Mary, the pining radiating beyond the two high-top tables the Daggers had claimed as theirs.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Bob raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth, but Harvard interrupts him before he can investigate further.

“It’s weird seeing the girls in dresses instead of their coveralls.”

“I’m just wondering how they convinced Callie to wear heels. Omaha practically had to bribe her to wear something other than her Vans to our wedding.” Fritz says, his red wristband - taken and in love - flashing when he takes a sip of his bright pink drink. “God, these drink specials are awful! This is the last time Phoenix gets to choose where we go.”

The boys laugh as his face twists in disgust. Natasha is great at many things, choosing a good bar is not one of them.

“We should have let Jake plan; he found that complex with the mini golf and everything. That was so much fun!” Aaron adds before turning to Javy. “Where is Jake? I thought he was coming.”

Javy shrugs. “He was supposed to be here, but he texted me and said he wasn’t going to make it. Something came up, apparently. He said everything was fine, so I’ll check on him tomorrow. Make sure he’s all good.”

“Mary looks really good.”

Bradley stiffens, his mood dropping from happy back down to pissed off as steam pours out of his ears. She doesn’t just look good. She looks amazing. The light green, satiny material of her dress is hugging her figure just right, showing off her curves in the most delicious way. The slit up her leg showing off the thighs he dreams about getting his hands on again.

She looks gorgeous.

But Harvard doesn’t get to say that about his girl.

She’s not your girl. You fucked up.

“There she is! Can I get you a drink, ma’am?” Harvard stands up, holding his bar stool steady while Mary climbs on, scooting it in when she’s settled.

“If you’re going up, I’ll take a water, please.” She smiles at him, cheeks flushed from dancing.

“You want anything stronger to go with that water?”

“Vodka sprite, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

“You got it, sweetheart; anything for my new backseater!” Harvard flashes his toothpaste commercial-ready smile at her before making his way through the crowd to the bar. Him and his pink wristband quickly getting lost in the masses.

“I missed something. Backseater?” Javy asks.

Bradley watches her laugh and lean on the table, grabbing a chip after Aaron pushes the basket toward her. “He’s just trying to be funny. We’re both headed up to Lemoore next week - I’m helping out on some repairs, and he’s doing some sort of mentor program? I don’t know exactly. Anyway, Cyclone suggested we drive together since we’re staying at the same hotel. I told Brigham he’s driving since he insisted on getting this godawful 30-foot pickup truck, which makes me his temporary backseater.”

“Make sure you don’t eat anything before riding with him, or you’ll paint the windshield.” Omaha jokes.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please. If I didn’t hurl after a greenhorn took me up and executed one very poor barrel roll before getting himself grounded, I think I can handle Harvard’s driving.”

“You’ve flown?”

“Was it an FA-18?”

“How do you fuck up a barrel roll?”

“Did you like it?”

Questions are hurled at her from every direction, all the boys interested in the fact that their favorite mechanic had been airborne in the backseat of a fighter jet before they knew her.

“I did like it!”

Bradley’s heart warms a bit when she answers his question first.

“It was an FA-18, and I think we technically hit Mach-1, but my brain has burned the trauma of that hop from my memory. It was fun until that bad maneuver because when I say greenhorn, I mean green. Like as fresh as you can possibly be.” She shutters, only partially joking. “But I didn’t throw up, and that’s a major point of pride for me.”

“It’s only because you hadn’t eaten yet that day.”

The warmth disappears, again, when she smacks Brigham’s arm after he puts her drinks down. “I told you that in confidence! And I think it still counts because I’m a civilian and have done none of the training you guys do.”

“How did you even get permission to fly?” Javy questions, stealing a sip of her water, grinning at her when she glares.

“When I was in Florida, I got close with some of the higher-ups, and one of them arranged for me to go on a simple flight so I could see what it’s like. It was really sweet of him!”

“Who did you sweet talk into getting in a jet?”

“He sweet-talked me! Actually, it was more like he manipulated me. It came up that I’d never been on a flight - which is totally normal for an engineer, by the way - and he egged me on until I agreed to go up.”

“Oh my god, you got suckered into a ride with a flight school newbie? Who managed that?”

“I don’t know if you guys know him. I don’t think he was in Pensacola when you were going through flight school, but it was Admiral-”

“Hey, baby, wanna dance?”

Her face changes immediately, annoyance spreading quickly. “No. I’ve already told you I don’t. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you want this-”

“The lady told you no. I suggest you listen to her before we make you listen.” Omaha threatens from his position across the table. Bradley is happy that Neil spoke up before him because he wouldn’t have been so nice about it.

The pushy asshole looks around the table and decides not to press his luck after seeing eight men puffed up, ready to defend their friend.

“What a dick! He had a red wristband on, and he still tried to hit on you!”

“Welcome to being a woman, Mickey. Doesn’t matter if you’ve told them no or if they have a partner. Men will be gross and overbearing if they think it’ll benefit them.”

She sinks back in her chair, sipping her drink and sending a small smile to the boys in thanks. The group disburses a bit, most joining Nat and Callie on the dance floor, leaving Mary sitting with Fritz, Bradley, and Bob.

“Hey, speaking of gross and overbearing, did you hear the rumor that Admiral Cain is coming to the program review next week?”

It perks her back up; she excitedly leans forward, happy to talk about something else.

“Oh! That’s not a rumor, Fritz. That’s 100% true. He’ll be presenting his case for increasing unmanned drone research. But he’s going first on Tuesday, and then he’s back in Washington that same afternoon, so thankfully, we’ll only have to deal with him for a few hours.”

“Thank god, I had to deal with him for a little bit when I was at Norfolk, and he was worst. I know drones are getting more popular for high-risk missions, but they’ll never be able to fully replace pilots.” Billy clinks his bottle against Mary’s glass when she holds it up, swallowing the last of his beer. “You’ll have to excuse me; it looks like my husband wants me to dance with him.”

Bradley watches Mary stare longingly at the dance floor, her eyes following the happy couple dance in perfect sync with each other.

If you hadn’t messed up, that could be the two of you out there.

“So, what parts of program review do you have to sit in on?”

Mary turns, a soft smile on her face - Bradley knows her soft spot for Bob matches his own. Both of them protective over the younger man who cares so much, yet so quietly.

“I have to be there for almost all of it. I’m presenting a few sections, plus I have to do a shop tour and demo, which will be uber fun.” She rolls her eyes, knowing how some admirals like to knit-pick at how a shop is run and organized. “All my free time this week will be finishing my slides and polishing my presentation.”

“Wow, on top of helping with Lemoore’s repairs? You’re gonna be busy these next two weeks.”

“Very busy, but we’ve already done the repairs I’m helping with down here, so theirs should go much smoother! But I'm genuinely excited for program review because I’ll get to see some people I worked with in Florida! I think I’m going to try and poach a few of them that I really miss.”

“You’re gonna steal your friends to work for you?” Bradley regrets the question when he sees her face falter for a split second, realizing his tone wasn’t as joking as intended.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. They’re really smart and talented, plus it’d be nice to work with them again.”

The relief that breezes through his chest at her grin and kind tone quickly disappears when Harvard pops up and pulls her toward the dance floor.

“Hang- hang on!” She giggles, turning to Bob. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my purse while Brigham steps on my toes to bad 90s love songs?”

Bob’s, “No problem.” overpowers Harvard’s protests of, “I’m not gonna step on your foot again!”

She pecks his cheek, leaving a faint pink stain behind as she follows the Ohio man onto the dance floor. And for several songs, Bradley's stomach twists as he watches his two friends dance pressed close together.

“Why don’t you go dance with her?”

“She doesn’t want to dance with me.”

Bob scoffs. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bradley, what happened with you two?”

He doesn’t answer; just keeps fiddling with the label on his beer and watching the dance floor. The two sit in uncomfortable silence for the first time in their friendship.

“I fucked up.” He confesses everything to Bob. The night on her couch, their interruption, the tiff just a few days ago. He doesn’t spare any detail, no feelings. “I still don’t know why I didn’t just let her explain! Even if I was mad that she was ignoring me, she had her reasons - she wouldn’t do something like that for no reason!”

Bob is stunned. He doesn’t know what to say to comfort his friend. None of the group’s theories had even been close to the reality of what happened.

“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you, not even Natasha!” Bradley is borderline frantic. “You’re the second person I’ve told, and I don’t know if Mary has told anyone, but I don’t want everyone knowing. I don’t want what happened to be the talk of the group.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Bradley. Not even Nat. But I do get bragging rights when the two of you finally get together.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I messed up too much, man.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He looks where Bob is pointing, watching as Harvard twirls away with a pretty redhead, leaving Mary dancing by herself. They make eye contact, and he can see the gears in her brain working. She turns around, hips swinging hypnotically, and he loses his breath when she peeks over her shoulder at him. Bradley’s heart soars when she wiggles a finger at him.

She’s calling me over. Maybe I didn’t totally fuck this up.

His joy is short-lived. The same red wristband asshole as before getting in her space, trying to grab her ass as she pushes him away. Bradley practically falls out of his chair to get to her.

“Get away from me!” Mary pushes the stranger’s hands off and stumbles back from the force, colliding with Bradley’s chest as he comes to help.

He steps forward, angling his body to shield her as she tucks herself into his side. “She’s told you to leave her alone at least twice now. Walk away before we have a problem.”

The sleazy man rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man.”

“No, not “whatever,” man.” Bradley steps forward, disregarding Mary tugging on his arm. Her pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears. “You’re going to apologize to her.”

“For what? The fat bitch probably liked it. She’s practically begging for it in that dress.”

Bradley doesn’t even think. He lunges, ignoring Mary’s yell for him to stop and taking the asshole down with one punch. He doesn’t get a second one, security interfering and escorting all three out.

The rest of the Daggers make their way outside, everyone awkwardly huddled together as Mary assures the bouncers that she is safe to leave with Bradley, that he’s her friend who was just protecting her from the other man’s unwanted advances.

She’s mad when she joins them. A quiet anger that's palpable, making them all stay quiet instead of joking around like usual.

“Thanks for planning this, Nat. It was really fun until about five minutes ago. I’ll text you about dinner.” She says to the girls, giving Bob a small smile when he hands over her clutch. “Bradley is going to drive me home, but you guys should keep having fun. Brigham, let me know when you want to leave tomorrow, and I’ll see the rest of you when I get back from Lemoore.”

Her clipped tone and her heels furiously clicking on the sidewalk are the only physical indicators of her anger. The group watches her go, stunned. In the year since they were introduced to Mary, it’s the only time they’ve seen her get close to losing her cool.

They had seen her defend herself against misogynistic pilots, making them feel foolish without even raising her voice. They watched her bite her tongue when admirals talked down to her because of her age, letting Mav or Cyclone handle it. In the past eleven months, they had witnessed her ability to handle difficult situations with poise and grace.

But tonight was too much.

After having to deal with yet another demeaning asshole and Bradley’s rash, unwanted heroics, the rage simmering below the surface of her skin was threatening to finally break through.

Bradley follows at a slower pace, keeping an eye on her but giving her space to breathe. He startles at someone grabbing his shoulder, turning with wide eyes to find Bob with a determined look on his face.

“Take her home and apologize; let her explain before you explain your side, okay?” Bradley nods, giving a small smile to his friend. “It’s all gonna be fine; you are made for each other. You can tell me all about how right I am tomorrow morning.”

He makes his way to the car, unlocking and opening the door for Mary, the tiny bit of hope from Bob’s pep talk disappearing when he realizes that she’s giving him the silent treatment. Climbing into the front seat and ignoring the hand he offers, closing the door herself and choosing to stare out the passenger window when Bradley sides into the Bronco.

The drive to her house is quiet; the only sound is the oldies station Bradley turns on in hopes of getting Mary to talk to him. The closer they get to their destination, the more he goes from sad to annoyed.

I was just trying to help. She doesn’t need to ignore me.

They’re both fuming by the time he pulls into the driveway. She slips out of the car, hoping he’ll just go home, but he’s following behind her to the house. One step over the threshold, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Are you gonna stop ignoring me, or should I just go home?”

He watches her shoulders stiffen and feels his stomach drop her eerily calm expression. “I don’t know. Are you actually going to listen to me? Or are you just going to tell me that we should just forget this happened, too?”

“Don’t put that on all on me! This isn’t all my fault! You ignored me for an entire month!”

“Yes! Yes, I did!” She slams her hand on her kitchen island. “And then, when I tried to explain, you didn’t let me say anything! You just said we should forget everything that happened and move on! So I tried to forget! I tried to respect your wishes! But tonight, all you could do was watch me dance with other men!”

His mouth drops open; he didn’t realize she had noticed.

“Yeah! I noticed - you pilots have all the subtly of an elephant in a firework shop with its tail on fire! It’s one or the other, Bradley! We either forget what happened and we see other people, or we talk about what happened and go from there! There’s no in-between option where you get to be upset whenever I flirt with a man that’s not you! So what’s it gonna be? Are we moving on, or are we having a conversation?”

He can’t get words to come out. He knows what he wants, but he can’t speak.

“Well, Bradley?”

Say something, dumbass! She’s not going to wait forever.

She scoffs, rubbing her hands over her face. “I’m going to shower. If you’re still here when I’m done, we’ll talk. If you’re gone, well, then I have my answer.”

He’s frozen in her dining room, wincing back to reality at her bedroom door slamming shut. His phone is ringing before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Rooster? Everything okay?”

“I think I fucked up.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “We fought, man. She noticed I was watching her tonight and yelled at me for not letting her talk last week.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m in her living room.”

“You’re still there? She didn’t kick you out?”

“She said if I’m still here when she’s done showering, we’ll talk about everything.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Bradley.” Bob’s eye-roll is audible on the other end. “Sit down and wait for her to finish showering so you can talk. If she wanted you to leave, she would have no problem sending you packing.”

“You think?”

“She was two seconds from throwing a wrench at my head last week, and I’m her favorite.”

“Well, I don’t know about favor-”

“I am. Now, sit down, shut up, and wait for her.”

The line clicks, and he decides to listen to the advice, depositing his wallet and keys on her entryway table before sitting on her couch. Sinking into the middle cushion, he thinks about the last time he’d been on this piece of furniture.

“You’re so hard.” He’s not sure why she’s surprised. She has to know she’s had him on the verge of an erection since she opened her door this morning.

“You’ve been pressed against me for two hours in these tiny little shorts with no bra on, and you smell good.” He shrugs, feeling sheepish as he explains what got him going.

“Bradley..” The way she says his name borders on a moan, and he can’t help the noise he makes when she pulls his hair.

If she does that again, I’m going to cum.

He grabs her ass and pulls her as close as he can, brushing his other hand up her thigh and boldly dipping into the leg of her pajama shorts, enjoying the scalloped edge of her panties. Their lips brush, and he’s about to move his hand to the gusset of her underwear - he needs to know how wet she is for him - when they’re interrupted.

Between reliving that moment and crafting his apology, he doesn’t hear the shower turn off or her footsteps coming down the hall, only noticing her when she sits in the chair furthest from him.

“I’m sorry-” They start to apologize at the same time.

“I’d like to go first if you don’t mind?” She requests, taking a deep breath when he nods in agreement. “I want to start by apologizing for the last month. It was wrong of me to kick you out that night and then ignore you for a month, and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I got scared. That night… I never do things like that. I never make the first move or act that bold. So the fact that I just climbed on your lap like that - without thinking about it or second-guessing myself - freaked me out. By the time I got Annie back to sleep, I had completely psyched myself out, and I was convinced you didn’t actually want me.”

“That’s- I- did I give any indication that I didn’t want you?” He sputters the question, unsure how she could think that.

“It’s nothing you did, Bradley. It’s all on me, my insecurities. Men rarely - if ever - have had the same… enthusiasm that you did. You were great; this is a me problem.”

“I don’t understand.” He leans forward, wanting to get closer without crossing the boundary she set with her seat choice. “If everything was so great, what went wrong?”

“I’m fat, Bradley.”

He sits up straight, shocked at her words. What does that have to do with anything?

“I’m sorry, I still don’t get what the problem is.”

“I know you don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, but please believe me when I tell you it’s hard. People are constantly policing and judging your body. Men will just tell you what they think of your body, what they think is wrong with it - unprovoked. And it’s even worse when you’re fat.” She leans back, hugging a pillow to her chest. “I know you didn’t do any of that. But I’ve been fat since I was a kid, so I’ve heard it all for years. And not just men, but from family too. It’s hard to shake those experiences, to ignore the insecurities and just enjoy the moment.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Mary refusing to make eye contact while Bradley tries to figure out his next move.

“Can I come over there?”

The question surprises her, but she nods. His choice to kneel in front of her is another surprise; he can tell from her eyebrows reaching her hairline.

“I’m gonna take this, okay?” He gently tugs the pillow from her hands, tossing it on the couch so there’s nothing between them. When Bradley sees her shirt, his breath hitches in his throat.

She’s wearing his sweatshirt.

“Sorry,” she says shyly, noticing his stare. “I’ve been wearing it to bed; I promise I’ll wash it.”

And as much as he wants to linger in the revelation that she’s been sleeping in his clothes, he pushes through.

“Mary, I’m going to be very honest with you because I need you to understand how much I wanted you that night. Sitting there with you in my lap? That’s the hardest I’ve ever been; I think about it all the time. How warm and soft you were.” He slips his hands into hers. “And I know what you look like. I like the way you look. I like everything about you. Everything. Even the things you don’t like about yourself. You’re so gorgeous.”

He wipes her cheek, brushing a tear away.

“This past month hasn’t changed how I feel about you. I still want you. I’ve never not wanted you. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment Danielle dragged you through the front door of the Hard Deck.”

“Bradley…”

“Not done, still my turn.” He leans up, getting closer to her to get his point across. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to fix this sooner. I was trying to give you the space you wanted, but that was a mistake. After the first week, I should have told you how I was feeling, what I wanted.”

“What do you want now?” Her voice is tiny, and his heart breaks at how uncertain she sounds.

“Still you, honey. I know I said we should forget what happened, but I don’t want to forget. I want to do that again without getting interrupted this time. I want to take you out on a date. I want you. If you’ll have me.”

He watches Mary wrestle with her thoughts, her mouth opening and closing, not sure how to say what she’s thinking. “Just tell me, Mary, whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me.”

“I want that too. I want you. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for it right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been flirting with me?” She nudges him back, scooting forward in her chair so her knees brush his chest.

He doesn’t understand the question but answers anyway, wrapping his hands around her legs, stroking his thumbs over her soft skin. “Since that night we met, I didn’t do too good of a job since you spent the evening playing darts with Jake, but that’s how long.”

“That was last January. You’ve been flirting with me for an entire calendar year. And I’m so oblivious that I didn’t even realize you were interested until you were grabbing my ass and moaning against my mouth.” She rubs her face. “So I just need some time to process this because I never thought this - us -could be an option.”

“Okay, how much time are you thinking? How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know… there’s no free time. I’m gone this week, and next week is program review and prepping you guys for deployment. Then you’re in the middle of the ocean for two months.”

“Doesn’t really leave a lot of time for us, does it?” He jokes, squeezing her calves. “We’ll be back the first week of May. There’ll be a few days of debriefing, but then I’m on leave. Why don’t we grab dinner that Sunday? It can be as friends or as something more, whatever you want - whatever you’re ready for at that point. How does that sound?”

“You’re okay with waiting that long?”

“Mariella, it’s been a year, and nothing has changed since I saw you in that red dress. A few extra weeks where we’re just friends? That’s nothing if it means you’re comfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

“Stop it. This isn’t all on you; I haven’t been the best either.” Bradley’s voice is firm, making sure she’s not placing the entire blame on herself. “We’ll work on it. We’re smart people; we can figure it out.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I really am sorry about how I acted.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Feeling lighter than they have in weeks, they look at each other and laugh when Mary yawns, her face scrunching up.

“Okay, honey, I think it’s time to get you to bed.” He stands, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll call you when you’re at Lemoore, okay? We’ll talk about our days, and you can complain about Harvard.”

“Why would I complain about Brigham?” She blinks up at him, her eyebrows creasing after a second. “Wait! Are you saying goodbye? You can’t drive home right now; it’s too late!”

He tries to argue but is cut off by her finger pointing at the clock, the two hands telling him it’s almost three in the morning. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“C’mon.” She pulls on his hand, leading him down the hall.

“What are we doing?”

“Going to bed?” She squeaks when he abruptly stops, tugging her off balance.

“Mary, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Her face is baffled. “Bradley, you’re too tall; it won’t be comfortable. We can share my bed; we’re adults. We can handle it.”

His heart thumps. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, but he’s afraid of how his body might react to being next to her all night.

“Mary, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t. I also want you to be comfortable, so if you don’t want to share, I’ll take the couch, and you take my bed.”

“But-”

“This is the whole communication thing we just talked about. Believe me when I say that sharing my king-sized bed with you for one night won’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bradley stares into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “Okay, lead the way then, Vertucci.”

It’s awkward for a moment in her bedroom, the two of them trying to navigate this new situation together. But after some blushing and a few stuttered words, they figure it out. He’s just finished brushing his teeth when they discover that Bradley’s preferred side of the bed matches hers.

“Two peas in a pod.” He jokes as he starts to climb into bed, heart fluttering at the bashful smile on her face.

“What are you doing?”

He freezes, covers pulled back with his knee raised. “Uhhh… getting into bed?”

“Not like that, you’re not.” His wide eyes must give away his confusion and panic because she continues. “Bradley, you are not climbing into my bed, which has nice fresh sheets, with those clothes you wore to the club. God knows what’s on those chairs we sat on.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You are wearing underwear, right?” He nods, feeling baffled by how this night has progressed. “Then strip, you’re sleeping in your undies.”

Bradley stands there, looking at her snuggled under her quilt, bathed in the soft light of her nightstand lamp, and still wearing his name on her arm. Based on how serious she looks, he’s pretty sure she’s unaware of how flirty her words sound. If she was any other woman, he would make an effort to flirt back, try his best to be sexy as he undresses. Turn it into a striptease.

But it’s Mary, and they just got back to a good place.

So he undresses how he does when he’s alone. Unbuttoning his black shirt methodically, taking note of how her breath hitches when he pulls the tight material off, but not doing anything about it. If he has any control over their situation, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future to make her lose her breath.

He does allow himself to make eye contact while he undoes his jeans, unable to pass up the chance to watch her watch him. He sees her scan his body, can see the hunger in her eyes, can hear the small gulp when she sees the waistband of his underwear appear. He stays steady, folding the pants and draping them over his shirt before slipping under the covers, keeping a respectful distance between them.

“Gonna turn the light out?”

She blinks at him as she processes the question, her eyes hazy from the late hour, and he thinks about how he would love to have this view every night for the rest of his life. He watches as she rolls over, eyes slipping down to the skin that’s exposed when she leans to turn the lamp off. She ends up closer when she rolls back towards him; he can feel the heat of her body radiating towards him.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mary’s voice is soft, like being too loud will ruin the small bubble they’ve created for themselves. “Do you like pancakes?”

The question makes him think of his mom, how she used to make pancakes on special occasions and sometimes just because it was Tuesday. He never makes them for himself.

“They’re my favorite. Do you make good pancakes?”

“I make the best pancakes.” He can’t see her face, but he can hear her smile. “Night, Bradley.”

He mummers good night back, enjoying the way the mattress moves as she gets comfortable. The scent of her shampoo drifts over him, resurrecting the question that he’d been asking himself for a month.

“Mary? Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet, scared to ruin things but needing to know the answer.

She hums, “What’s up?”

“That night. If we hadn’t gotten interrupted, what do you think would have happened?” It’s quiet. He can hear her hands playing with the edge of the sheet, fingers nervously folding and unfolding the cotton. “I’m sorry, you don’t have-”

“No, it’s okay, Bradley.” A hand brushes his chest, warm fingers ghosting over his skin in search of his hand. She continues once their fingers are intertwined. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, we would have had sex. We would’ve made out for a while, and then I would have ridden you right there on the chaise.”

“Fuck…”

She makes a small noise of agreement. “I don’t know about after, though, if we would have had a better go of things that we have. It might have been worse, I’m not sure.”

“Can’t change the past. I’m just glad we’re fixing things now.”

“Me too.” Mary presses a small kiss to the tip of his fingers, squeezing his hand before rolling over. “Good night, Bradley; sleep well.”

“Night, Mary.”

I think I’m falling in love with you.

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