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tropes-and-tales · 1 year ago

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Good Girl

Day 2: Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2996

AN: This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you. Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy. He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it. Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer. Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits. Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single. The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up. The little touches you chance: brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in. The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness. In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them. “C’mon. It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested. You gotta be blatant with him. He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?” Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation. Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless. “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse. I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again. “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us. I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck: you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you. Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside. You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot. You square your shoulders. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be the brave one.” A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath. “And you’re sure he likes me? You aren’t misreading this somehow? I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.

“Ah, kid, he loves you. You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life. Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster. You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear. “I was going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna go? C’mon.” You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance.

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave. The former tips you a knowing wink. The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks. He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit. It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice. You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it. He seems comfortable just to be himself: quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.

Case in point: you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one. Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy. If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.

“Same,” you reply. “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles. “I do,” you admit. “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent. He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.” It comes out curt, two quick syllables. A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement. Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night. You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there. The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off. “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob. “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath. If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward. Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby. Honestly. I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…” You trail off, lose your words like an idiot. You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely. You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses: gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant. His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy. Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through. “I know, honey. Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you. You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not. Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find. You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come. You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you. You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too. He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh. He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down. You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin. “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease. You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you. He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.” His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip. “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out. You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space. At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you. His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much: the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts. Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets. It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks. His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw. He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin. You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair. You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed. You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.” He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat. “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter. You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid. No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you. A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank: yes, you want to be his good girl. Yes, you want to come for him. Whatever he wants. Anything he wants. Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him. “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can. Yes, yes. Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you: you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge. You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over. His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it. “My good, sweet girl. Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him. Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes. Only for you, Bobby.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

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roosterforme · 5 months ago

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Covering the Classics Part 17 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna is giving herself one last chance to get her manuscript before she moves on without it. She has friends, a job she loves, and a man who believes in her. There's nothing else she really needs now, but she's going all in on a plan that is perhaps just crazy enough to work.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, espionage, adult language, 18+

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Bob watched Anna emerge from the bathroom in one of Jessica's cocktail dresses after he picked her up from work and brought her back to his house. "I'm thinking this one?" she asked, turning back and forth in front of his bedroom mirror while wearing the black and white dress. It was a little snug and also a bit short on her compared to how it would probably fit Jessica, but he thought she looked incredible.

"Yeah," Bob agreed, standing behind her and zipping it up. "It's perfect." Seeing her in wedding rings was startling to him, and he had to remind himself over and over again that she had borrowed them as a cover. As part of the ruse. That they belonged to his friend. That she wasn't reconciling with Kevin. "What time do we need to be at the hotel?" he asked, running his hand along her hip as she started to clip her hair up onto her head.

"Eight o'clock," she confirmed. "The cocktail reception lasts from eight until ten, and there's no way Kevin will want to miss a single minute with all of these people who seemingly worship him."

Bob tightened his hold on her, his distaste for Kevin clearly written on his face as he looked in the mirror over her shoulder. She told him he needed to change out of his uniform, so he was wearing a plain undershirt and jeans. He looked a bit ridiculous next to Anna as she swiped some eyeliner on in the shape of a cat-eye before coating her lips in a deep red stain.

"That's pretty," he whispered, and he was rewarded with her turning around to press a kiss to his cheek, leaving her perfect lip marks behind. He didn't bother to wipe it away. He was so thankful she wasn't trying to do this on her own, even though she seemed calm and confident. He didn't want Kevin to have even the slightest opportunity to be alone with her. "You'll call me if you need me to come in," he said.

"Yes," she confirmed for probably the fifth time. "I'll keep my phone on me."

"And you'll get out of there if you don't feel safe?"

Anna nodded up at him, looking so beautiful with a soft smile on her lips. "Yes. My manuscript is not as important as I am."

Bob kissed her deeply. She finally got it. She tried to swipe at the lipstick smudged on his mouth, but they left his house hand in hand with some of the stain left on his lips. He helped her into his truck and took his time driving up to Carlsbad as she navigated along the way for him. When he reached for her hand, she laced her fingers with his, and he chuckled.

"I kind of hate her rings on you," he muttered. "I wonder what Bradley had to say about that one."

Anna made a face when he glanced her way. "I'm sure he's still asking her to explain where they went, and the more she says my name, the unhappier he's going to be with me."

"Nah," Bob replied as he made a left turn. "You're one of us."

She squeezed his hand. "That still sounds almost too good to be true. And we do need to return her rings tonight so he doesn't have a full panic attack."

"That sounds fair," he murmured, looking for a place to stop his truck and let her out. The swanky hotel where Kevin's medical conference was being held was just up the block, and now his heart was pounding.

"This is perfect," she told him, pointing out the window before unbuckling her seatbelt. "Just leave me off right here." He put the truck in park, but when she tried to pull her hand away, he held on tighter. She paused and looked at him before leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying, "I got this, Bob. It's okay." When she tried once more to get out of his truck, he tugged her closer to him. "You have to let me-"

"Anna, I love you."

She froze at his announcement, but he was getting tired of not telling her. He'd been thinking it for ages. He thought he almost lost her before, and he wasn't going to let Kevin of all people potentially ruin her night without her knowing she at least had him to come back to. So as she crawled across the seat toward him, he repeated himself. "I love you."

Anna climbed onto his lap as her lips met his cheek and his chin. "I want to listen to you say that all night," she whispered, finally kissing his lips. "And I want to spend an hour telling you all about how much I love you. But I need about thirty minutes to get shit done first."

Bob laughed as he nipped at her smiling lips. "No rush. I'll still love you in thirty minutes." He would probably still love her in thirty years, and he was more than willing to tell her that later. But right now he had to accept one last kiss from her before he watched her hop down from his truck, put Jessica's high heels on, and start to head for the hotel entrance.

---------------------------

"You can do this," Anna told herself as she tried not to stumble in the shoes that were a half size too small with heels which were way too high. "Just stay focused." But Bob loved her! He said it, and he meant it, and now all she wanted was to run back to his truck. But this was her last chance.

It was ten minutes after eight. Kevin's schedule was giving her enough time to get what she wanted, but only if it went smoothly. Anna had never been much of an actress, but in this exact moment, she needed to pull off an Emmy winning performance if she stood a chance at getting into Kevin's room. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders as she walked into the beautiful lobby, opened her clutch purse, and pouted in frustration. "Oh no," she muttered loudly. There were a lot of people around, chatting and heading to the bar just past the concierge desk. She threw her head back in faux annoyance and marched in the terrible shoes toward the counter.

"How can I help you this evening?" asked the young man behind the desk with a smile.

Anna sighed and set her clutch down and glanced at his name tag. She made sure the rings on her finger were shining under the light as she said, "In my rush to get to the wine bar down the block in time for cocktail hour, I left my new necklace and my key card in my room. Think you could print me a new one, Marcus? My husband just gifted me the necklace and expects me to be wearing it."

"Of course, Mrs...."

"Webber. Mrs. Kevin Webber. We're here for the Neurological conference. My husband is a keynote speaker." She had to fight back the urge to choke on the words as she forced a smile.

"Right," Marcus replied, tapping away on his keyboard. "Webber.... I found the reservation, but it's only under your husband's name."

When he looked up and met her eyes, Anna wanted to run away, climb back into Bob's truck and give up. Her heart was pounding as she tapped her fingers on the counter and rolled her eyes. "He always does that when he books a room for work. But I'm definitely linked to his rewards account."

She tried to keep her face neutral as she awaited a response. There was no way Kevin would have taken the time to update anything so trivial. He was never one to take the time to update anything. That always fell to Anna. She watched Marcus start typing again as he said, "I'll just need to check your ID, Mrs. Webber."

"Absolutely," she replied coolly, pulling her New Jersey state driver's license that was about to expire from her clutch and setting it down for him. The longer he typed away, the more she started to panic. She wondered if Kevin was already having his first drink at the bar or if he had moved on to his second. As long as he was there, it didn't much matter to her what he was doing.

Finally, Marcus pulled a new key card from the drawer in front of him, programmed it and tucked it into an envelope. He conveniently wrote #609 on it and slid it toward her. "Is there anything else I can do for you this evening Mrs. Webber?"

She shook her head, picked up her license and the key and said, "I think this is all I need. Thank you, Marcus."

Anna turned toward the bank of elevators and counted each step. One, two, three, four, five.... She tried to keep her pace as unhurried as she could while still getting away from the desk quickly. She pushed the little up arrow and waited for the elevator to arrive while she glanced around the lobby to be sure there was nobody who had taken notice of her. When the elevator got there, she ducked inside and pushed the button for floor six and pulled her phone out to text Bob.

I got the key. I'm in the elevator.

When she arrived at the correct floor, she put her phone away and held onto the key card with shaking hands. She could do this. She knew she could. But one step onto the plush carpet, and she stumbled in Jessica's high heels. "Shit," she gasped, reaching for the wall as the elevator doors slid closed behind her. Could she really take Kevin's computer? Technically speaking, it was hers, too. They picked it out together. When he started medical school. She paid for it with her credit card. The one he then maxed out.

She pushed herself off from the wall, more pissed off than upset. Kevin didn't deserve her concern at the moment. He deserved nothing. Room 609. She found it down the left side of the hallway. Just as she raised the key card to swipe it, the door jerked open an inch, and she gasped. Fingers wrapped around the door from the inside as it opened slowly, and she ran as fast as she could for the stairwell, tucking herself inside just as she saw Kevin step into the hallway.

"Fuck," she gasped under her breath, afraid she might throw up. It was close to 8:30 now. He should have been at the cocktail party. Why was he in his room? Terrified that he'd seen her, Anna stood in the stairwell with her back pressed to the wall. She counted to fifty and then to one hundred, but the door never opened. When she peeked out into the hallway again, it was deserted.

"You can do this," she whispered, even as the thought occurred to her that he may still be in the hotel room. There was no way she'd be able to overpower him if he was. Before she could give it too much thought, she knocked on the door and then pressed her ear to it. When nobody answered, she did it again. Then she swiped her card, watched the light turn green, and pushed the door slowly open.

The hotel room smelled like Kevin's cologne, and she gagged, but after a quick inspection of the bathroom and closet, he was definitely gone. Her hands were shaking like crazy now as she checked the desk area for his computer, but it wasn't there. She dropped to her knees and crawled across the floor to his computer bag, but it was empty except for folders and pamphlets from the conference.

"Shit," she said, eyes stinging with tears. She made it this far, and she didn't want to give up now. As she crawled around the king size bed, she saw the computer charging cable on the floor, plugged into the outlet along with his phone charger. And there it sat, tucked halfway under the bed. The laptop.

Anna lunged for it, opening it and waking it up from standby mode. She was prompted to enter a password, and she smiled; Kevin never changed anything. It had to be the same one he was using since college. She entered it, and her smile vanished.

Incorrect Password

"You're joking," she gasped. This was supposed to be the easy part. This was the last thing she was convinced would trip her up. Perhaps she had just entered it wrong with her shaky hands, so she tried it again.

Incorrect Password

"Fuck!" Panic was setting in now. Should she just take it and risk pissing him off if the manuscript wasn't even on it? Her intention had been to check before she did. Her gaze settled on the little fingerprint reader down in the bottom corner near the keyboard. There was simply no way. If he had taken the time to actually update his passwords, then he would have taken the time to remove Anna's fingerprint access as well.

She bit her lip and slid her index finger down to the reader, and she was immediately rewarded with full access to the computer. Her eyes went wide as she tapped on the search option and entered the file name of her manuscript and hit enter, and when it popped up on the screen she burst into tears. She scrolled down and it was there. It was all there.

"Fuck you, Kevin," Anna said, voice hoarse with emotion as she yanked the plug from the wall, wrapped the cord around the laptop, and made her way to the door. She needed to act completely normal right now even though she felt like her heart might burst into a million brightly colored pieces of magic. She rode the elevator down, praying that Kevin was getting intoxicated enough that he wouldn't realize something was missing from his room right away. For the first time in her life, she didn't even care if he brought another woman back with him, but she did almost feel bad for pregnant Alyssa back in New Jersey. Almost.

When the doors slid open revealing the bustling lobby, Anna nearly tripped for the last time. She took her friend's shoes off and held them in one hand with her purse as she started speed walking toward the exit. She didn't see Kevin anywhere, but that didn't mean much since he had been in his room when she got here. Now she was counting on Bob to be where he said he would be.

Once she was outside, she immediately turned to the right toward the loading zone. She started to run barefoot down the sidewalk, and that's when she saw him. He was perfect, standing there next to the passenger side door in his white undershirt, running his hands nervously through his hair.

"Bob!" she called out, her feet already aching, and he came racing up the sidewalk to meet her.

"You got it!" he whispered excitedly. "Anna, Baby, you got it!"

"It's still on here," she breathed as he scooped her up with everything still held tight in her hands. "I got in with my fingerprint and I saw it, Bob. I have it." He kissed the side of her neck once, but otherwise he didn't stop walking. "Did you see Kevin?" she asked.

"Yeah," he grunted, setting her down and pulling the door open for her. "He headed the other way up the block. When he came out after you went inside, I kind of started to freak out a little bit. If I didn't hear from you again in five more minutes, I was going to make my way inside. But you didn't need me at all."

Anna tossed everything onto the seat and scrambled inside, anxious to get out of here, but not before she leaned down to kiss Bob one more time. "That's just the thing though. I'm pretty sure I actually do need you."

He was smiling as he said, "Let's go home."

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Anna was holding the computer to her chest while Bob drove down the dark local roads of Carlsbad and got onto the highway. She didn't say much, but she looked so happy, and eventually her hand crept across the seat to take his. When he took the first street off the bridge instead of the second one, she asked, "Where are we going?"

Bob laughed. "Just because he hasn't been freaking out at you all night doesn't mean he hasn't been texting and calling me nearly nonstop."

"Who?" she asked, clearly puzzled as Bob drove through the quiet end of Coronado. When he pulled up in front of the Spanish Revival style house that had every light, interior and exterior, shining bright, she laughed too. "I almost forgot about the rings in all the excitement."

Bob watched as Bradley came running out onto his porch in his slippers, gym shorts, and his hideous tie dye shirt with a concerned look on his face. His wife was right behind him waving merrily from the porch in a bathrobe that looked too big for her as he ran down the walkway toward the truck. Bob watched as Anna twisted both rings from her finger and then rolled down the window, and in an instant, Bradley's entire head was thrust inside, eyes searching wildly.

"Do you have them?" he asked loudly, reaching for Anna's open palm and the rings. "Jesus Christ." He turned around and shouted to his wife, "They have them!"

"I told you they did," she replied easily, shaking her head. "It's not like she was set on stealing something tonight, Beer Boy."

Bob and Anna both started laughing as Bradley turned back toward them, looking much calmer with his wife's rings in his hand. "These rings are so important to me. Elvis himself married us in Vegas with them."

Anna patted him on the cheek and said, "And they're both just as perfect as when Advanced Calculus gave them to me earlier. They worked like a charm, so thank you."

He nodded and sighed in relief before heading back up to the porch with a lot more swagger in his step now. While he was walking away, Bob heard him tell his wife, "Put these back on immediately, Sugar, or I'm getting my Beta Gamma paddle out."

"Oh," Anna gasped as Bob started to pull away from the curb. "That actually makes a lot of sense," she muttered, holding onto the computer once again.

"They are in for a wild night," Bob told her, heading toward his house now. "And so is Kevin. In a much less fun way."

"And so are you," Anna said with a little smirk.

"I don't have a fraternity paddle," Bob replied as his cheeks grew warm.

"We won't need one of those for a good time. You have a collection of poetry that you wrote about me, and I think I'd like to hear you read it."

Bob was already twitching with need. "Will you put your black bra and panties on again?"

"What do you think I'm wearing under this dress? As soon as I pull my manuscript from the cloud and copy everything over to my own computer, I'm going to spend the rest of the night thoroughly thanking you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. And then we can discuss the plans to banish Kevin permanently."

There were so many things he wanted to do, but he knew his list would have to start after hers was complete. They would take care of her manuscript and get rid of Kevin. Then he could bring up going on some actual dates before she moved in for good and let their books get all mixed up. He was itching to get back to the bookstore again. He was dying to take her to Chippy's.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Anna," he said softly, lacing his fingers with hers as he drove. "But when you finally feel free, just promise me you'll stay."

----------------------------

Anna! You badass!! Let's banish Kevin back to New Jersey forever! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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mynameismckenziemae · 10 months ago

Text

When the Stars Align

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader

This is my submission for the International Bob Floyd Fucks Month (hosted by @attapullman).

Summary: You (call sign: Stealth) find out your boyfriend’s been cheating on you for months the night before you’re leaving for a camping trip with friends. Will you act on the feelings you’ve been trying to ignore? The answer is yes.

WC: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, oral (both m and f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), being called good girl 🤤, one bed kinda trope, mutual masturbation, etc.

“What’s up with Stealth?” Bob asks, nodding in your direction as you walk up the driveway. Your eyes are puffy like you haven’t slept in weeks.

“She broke up with Tyler last night. He’s been cheating on her for months,” Nat sighs, “I hurt for her, but I’m glad he’s gone. He was such an asshole.”

Bob’s heart races but he places it cool as he murmurs his agreement. It’s too soon, but his hope soars as he realizes he might be able to take his chance after years of silently pining after you.

“Hey guys! Sorry, I’m late. But I brought coffee!” You smile, juggling the tray of drinks, your sleeping bag, and duffle.

Bob takes your stuff, packing it into the van as you hand out the coffees.

“Thanks, Stealth,” Nat says, squeezing your shoulder. “You okay?”

You give a small smile and nod. “Yeah, actually. I’m tired, but I just feel relieved now.”

“Good. Maybe you can act on that little crush on Bob you’ve been harboring this weekend…” she replies, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Shhhh! I’ve only been single for like 12 hours, so it’s too soon….right?”

Jake interrupts before she can reply. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Campsite is 3 hours away, we’re burning daylight-hey!”

Bradley comes up behind him and slaps his ass. “Calm your tits, it’s barely 7. We can’t even check in until 11.”

“Well we have to account for traffic and bathroom breaks and…” Jake trails off as Bradley pushes him to the driver's seat as the rest of you pile into the van.

Javy and Natasha take the bucket seats, which leaves the back bench seat for you and Bob.

Bradley does a final check, making sure the tents and kayaks are strapped down before hitting the tailgate button and getting in the front seat before it closes.

No one notices that your sleeping bag fell out as Jake drives away.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It was a fight to stay awake not even 15 minutes into the ride; you were exhausted. Your now ex-boyfriend had been blowing your phone all night and you’d only gotten about 3 hours of sleep.

You drift off and soon your head lolls onto his shoulder.

Someone’s running their fingers through your hair. Bob, you think as you get a hint of his comforting clean-laundry scent.

“Hey, we’re here,” Bob murmurs, rubbing your shoulder.

You startle, quickly sitting up. “Sorry! God, I’m so tired. Did I sleep on you the whole time?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. You don’t snore like Bradley.”

“Hey! I do not!” Bradley turns back, offended.

“Yes, you do,” everyone replies in unison.

“It’s okay babe, it’s cute,” Jake says, pressing a kiss to his cheek before opening his door and getting out.

“It’s not cute,” Javy mutters under his breath, following suit.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s late afternoon by the time everyone gets back to the campsite after your hike and it’s nearing dark by the time the tents are finally set up.

“So uh…we really didn’t think this through, did we?” Jake says, scratching the back of his neck as he looks at the 3 tents in front of them.

“It’s fine, you and Bradley can sleep in one, I’ll sleep with Stealth, and Bob and Javy can take the other,” Natasha offers.

“No, I know you and Javy hardly ever get to sleep by each other. Bob and I can share one. We’re adults and we each have our own sleeping bag. As long as you’re okay with that?” You ask, turning to Bob.

“Fine by me,” he answers, thankful it’s dusk so no one can see his flush.

“Perfect. Now, let’s have some drinks!” You say, opening the cooler.

“Are you sure?” Nat asks as you hand her a beer.

“I’m sure. It’ll be fine.”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It wasn’t fine.

“What's wrong?” Bob asks as he rolls his sleeping bag out on the queen-sized air mattress.

“I can’t find my sleeping bag,” you sigh, zipping the door closed. “It’s not in the van, Bradley’s snoring and it sounds like Javy and Nat are…preoccupied. It’s okay though, I can just use the blanket I brought to put under it.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

Yes. “No, I think I’ll be okay.”

“You sure? You can take mine and I’ll use the blanket.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks though,” you smile up at him as you cover up.

He turns to set his glasses down and your mouth waters when his lean, muscular back is revealed as he takes off his shirt.

You look away, hoping he doesn’t notice your blush when he turns. He flicks the lantern off and climbs in, and you accidentally roll right into him. Damn air mattresses.

“Oof, sorry!” You stammer, scrambling away.

“It’s okay, my fault,” he replies, chuckling nervously. ‘G’night Stealth.”

“Night.”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You. Were. Cold.

Shivering, teeth chattering cold. It was only in the low 60s, but you’d never handled being cold well.

Bob unzips his sleeping bag with a sigh and stands. “Hand me your blanket.”

“What? W-w-why?”

“Because you’re shivering. I’m going to put mine over us both and then we’ll put yours over it.”

“O-o-okay,” you agree, gasping when the cold air hits you. But it’s only for a second before the fleece-lined inside of his blanket covers you. He drapes your thin one over it and then gets under them both, drawing your back against his front.

“Just until you warm up, okay?” He murmurs near your ear, causing a different kind of shiver to roll through you.

“Mhmm,” you answer.

After a few minutes you’re finally getting warm, but you’re too comfortable to move and you drift off wrapped in his arms.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You wake up to his quiet, breathy gasps and a sizable hard-on pressing into your ass.

Your nipples tighten as arousal shoots through you, settling between your legs at the sounds leaving him. He mumbles your name and continues to rut. He’s still asleep.

As much as you want to stay right where you are and see if he finishes, you wiggle from under his arm and stretch with a yawn.

You smile as he sleepily opens his eyes, a flush creeps in when he realizes what’s going on under the blanket but you act none the wiser. “Morning, I’m going to shower before it gets too busy. Wanna come?”

His eyes flutter close at your unintentional innuendo but he catches himself. “Yeah, sure. Uhhh…let me get my stuff and I’ll meet you out there.”

“Sounds good.” You reply, turning your back to get your clothes and shower bag together before unzipping the tent.

To your disappointment, he put his tee shirt back on. But to your amusement, he’s got his towel strategically placed in front of him.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s thankfully a short walk to the bathrooms.

“I wonder if you’ll hear me sing,” you say, giggling at his expression. “I like to sing in the shower. Look, the bathrooms are connected.” You point to the 12-inch gap at the top of the wall between the bathrooms.

You wink and step into to the women’s side.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Bob barely gets the shower curtain closed before he’s fisting his cock, biting his lip to keep from groaning. He jerks himself quickly, so worked up and trying to hurry so you’re not waiting but he freezes when he hears your soft, feminine moan. Was…was that you?

“Oh fuck,” he grunts quietly, gripping the base to stave off his orgasm when he hears you again.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

On the other side of the wall, you’re already getting close, so turned after months of mediocre orgasms from your own hand while watching mediocre porn; you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about Bob while masturbating when dating another man. Not to mention that the other man hadn’t ‘finished the job’ in over a year. But now you were single.

You grind the heel of your palm against your clit, and your core tightens as you teeter on the edge. You hear his soft curse and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge. A soft whimper escapes as the pleasure flows through you.

His answering groan has you clenching again but you sigh in disappointment when hear footsteps approaching the bathroom.

“You’re up early,” Nat calls from the shower beside yours.

“Yeah, I got cold. Hey, have you seen my sleeping bag?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You give Bob a nonchalant smile as you greet him outside the bathroom. “Nat hasn’t seen my sleeping bag. I’ll check with Jake and Bradley get too, but I’m guessing it got left behind somehow.”

“Gotcha. Hey, so-“ he starts but is interrupted by Bradley cooking breakfast.

“How do you guys want your eggs?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

The morning was spent hiking and finished the afternoon kayaking on the lake. You caught Bob checking you in your bikini out more than once, but you were just as guilty, it was just easier to hide under your sunglasses.

You realize you hadn’t felt this light in years as you laugh around the bonfire later, listening to Jake telling a story about when he was a kid.

“I feel gross, I’m gonna hit the showers,” Jake says, slapping his knees and rising.

“Me too, I’ve got sand everywhere,” Bradley agrees.

Javy yawns, “I think I’m gonna hit the hay, Nat?”

She doesn’t respond as she’s already fast asleep with her hat pulled over her eyes.

A few minutes later it’s just you and Bob and the crackling of the fire under the stars.

“I never get to see the stars like this in the city, it’s so beautiful out here,” you murmur, eyes on the sky.

“Sure is,” he replies, eyes on you.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

It’s cold your tent. Again.

You fail to suppress your shivers as Bob slides under the blankets.

“Jesus Stealth, your feet are like ice!” He gasps as he brushes them with his own.

“Sorry. I don’t handle cold w-w-well,” your teeth chatter.

“I can tell. C’mere,” he chuckles, drawing you to him.

“Bob?” You murmur against his bare chest a few minutes later as his fingers trace along your spine.

“Yeah?”

“I like you…and I’ve liked you for a long time. I was already planning on breaking things off with Tyler in person next month when he was going to visit, but he made everything easier when I found out he cheated. I wasn’t even angry or upset. I was relieved…and kind of excited actually because that I could finally tell you how I feel about you and see if you feel the same way about-“

Bob cuts off your rambling by pressing a kiss to your lips. “I like you too, Stealth. I have for years.”

You smile and bring your lips back to his. He kisses you slowly and meticulously, memorizing every reaction he pulls from you.

Ever the gentleman, his hands don’t leave their position from the curve of your waist and the hinge of your jaw.

Time to literally take matters into your own hands.

He pulls from your lips with a gasp when you reach down and palm him.

“Oh my God, Bob. You’re huge,” you moan as you slip your hand down the front of his pants and grasp him.

You push gently at him and once he’s on his back, you trail kisses from his neck to his chest, smirking at the way he jolts when your teeth graze his nipples and continue your way south.

Your eyes widen at the size of his cock as it’s revealed when you tug his pants down.

That’s not gonna fit.

“Yes it will,” he chuckles breathlessly. You’re thankfully it’s dark as you blush, not realizing you said it out loud.

You bend forward and flick your tongue over the precum beading, moaning at the salty taste before licking him from base to tip, finally sucking his head into your mouth when he breathes, “Please?”

You get a little over half of him in your mouth before you’re fighting your gag reflex and have to let up.

You take a deep breath and suck him sloppily a few times, letting the excess saliva as lubricant for your hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. He sighs when you finally get into a good rhythm and pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to watch you in the dim moonlight.

“Ah! Wa-wait, wait, Stealth! I’m gonna cum,” he pants, tugging gently on your hair.

But you shake your head as you continue, tears leaking as you resist the urge to gag when his tip kisses the back of your throat. His body starts to tense and your teary gaze meets his as your free hand cups his sac and gently tugs.

His eyes squeeze close and he scrambles for your pillow, holding it over his face to muffle his deep groan as cums.

Your arousal coats your thighs and you rub them together to get some sort of relief as swallow it greedily with a quiet moan of your own.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

You give him a shy smile as he sets the pillow aside and the next thing you know you’re pinned under him with your shirt rucked up to your chin. He’s working you into a frenzy by alternating between your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple while he laves and sucks the other.

You need more. “Bob? I’m ready,” you pant, fingers combing through his hair, gently tugging to bring him back up to you.

“You really think I’m gonna let you blow my mind and not return the favor?” He chuckles lowly before pressing a kiss between your breasts then lifting himself to tug your pajama shorts off.

He settles back between your thighs, but you stop him. “Wait! You don’t have to do…that. I-I mean I’m ready to go.”

“Do you not want me to?” He asks, causing you to shiver as his warm breath caresses you.

“I don’t…know? Do you want to? Tyler only did it a few times when we first started dating but could never get me off, then he kind of just stopped and said guys don’t actually like doing it. Gave me a complex,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Another reason he’s a fucking idiot. Yes, I want to. If you’ll let me?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

You nod, hesitant, but any nervousness is forgotten with the first pass of his tongue. Your head falls back against the pillow as he licks into you with his tongue. “Fuck you taste good,” he murmurs against your clit, flicking it gently with his tongue before he grips your ass and pulls you closer.

He doesn’t hold back as he devours you; the perfect variation of sucking, licking, and nipping. A strangled cry is ripped from your throat when he presses his fingers in and curls them against your g-spot.

“Stealth? You okay?” Nat calls sleepily from their tent 15 feet away.

You clench around his fingers, trying to still them as you try to reply steadily. “All good, j-just a dream.”

“Mmkay, G’night.”

“Night,” you answer just as an intense orgasm hits you. You taste the coppery hint of blood as you bite your lip to keep from making noise.

“Mmm,” Bob hums quietly as he works you through it, slowly only when you start to twitch from overstimulation. You whimper when he places a light kiss on your clit before moving back up your body.

“I’m going to lay you on my bed and do that for hours when we get back,” he murmurs against your lips before pecking a kiss to your lips.

“I can’t wait,” you whisper, reaching down to rub the head of his cock between your legs and lining him up.

“Shit, I didn’t bring any condoms,” he sighs, his head dropping to your shoulder in frustration.

“I didn’t either. I do have an IUD though, and I was clean at my physical a few weeks ago before we deployed. I haven’t slept with Tyler in over 5 months and we always used a condom. We could go without if you’re okay with it?”

“I’m clean too, are you sure though?” He asks, arms shaking as he holds himself back.

“I’m sure, I want you to fuck me bare,” you whisper in his ear with a nip to his lobe.

A strangled noise leaves him at your words and he presses forward.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he grits out, pausing to let you adjust halfway In.

You force yourself to relax, take a few deep breaths, and nod, “I’m okay, keep going.”

He groans in your ear when his hips finally meet yours; you whimper in his as he withdraws to push back in.

“Good girl, taking all of me,” he pants, groaning as you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when I call you a good girl?”

You mewl and nod, unable to form words as he angles his hips so your clit gets friction with each thrust.

You sink your teeth into his shoulder when your orgasm takes you by surprise. His jaw clenches and his rhythm falters but he manages to fuck you through it, not giving into his own release.

“You still cold?” He asks when you come back down, still thrusting into you lazily.

“Huh? Uh, no I’m good,” you reply, trying to catch your breath.

“Good.”

He kneels on the ground and pulls you to the edge of the mattress, flipping you onto your stomach. The air is pushed from your lungs when he presses back in; the new angle allows deeper thrusts right over your g-spot.

“Fuc-mmph!” You start, but Bob’s hand over your mouth cuts you off.

“Shhh,” he chuckles quietly. His other hand leaves your hip to dip between your legs, gathering your wetness and coming back up to circle your clit. “Be a good girl and get there again for me?”

Your eyes roll back and you can’t control the moan that leaves you as your orgasm slams into you, thankfully somewhat muffled by his hand.

He chokes as you clench rhythmically and follows you over the edge. He bites his lip to stay quiet and drapes himself over your back while he pumps you full.

He helps get your pajamas on and holds your hand as you walk to the bathroom on unsteady legs.

“I’ll wait for you out here,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mmkay,” you smile.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Natasha walks in with a knowing smirk as you’re drying your hands.

“Must’ve been a good dream, eh?”

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Tagging:

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#robert bob floyd #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #ibffm #one bed trope

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shakespeareanwannabe · 3 months ago

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 19

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, crying, discussions of therapy, sadness, reference to divorce, references to labour and delivery (not explicit but detailed), references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital, self-doubt and self-loathing

A/N: Surprise! I somehow got this chapter done in just a week, and it just so happens to be the last one! If the winds are with me, the epilogue should be out next Friday. But I just want to take a second and thank everyone who is read, commented, reblogged, liked. It means everything to me to get to play in this sandbox, and I really appreciate all the love!

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

“One more big push, honey. One more and then you can have a little rest!” The OBGYN urged.

“I can’t! I can’t do this!” Buttercup sobbed, head falling forward as she panted. She felt like she’d been at this for days. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Everything hurt. She missed her bed. She missed the little home she lived in with Jake. She missed not being in pain.

“Shhh, Buttercup. It’s okay.” Jake soothed from his seat on a little stool right by her head.

One gesture from him and the room silenced. He’d been her rock through this whole ordeal, never once leaving her side, never complaining about not getting any sleep or how hard the couch was. He rubbed her feet and her back, fed her ice chips, snuck her a little snack because frankly the hospital’s No Eating While in Labour rule was fucking barbaric. He wasn’t about to make his wife starve herself for over a day on the off chance that she would need surgery. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and propped himself on the bed in front of her. She had opted to push on her hands and knees. Perhaps not the most dignified position, but it was the one she felt most comfortable in. Or at least, the position she had felt the most comfortable in. Honestly, she hadn’t known comfort in over 12 hours.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly, squeezing his hand as another contraction rocked her body. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” It wasn’t Jake’s Texan drawl that comforted her now. It was Hangman’s no-nonsense voice that cut through the sleep deprivation and pain. “I know you’re scared, darlin’. I know you’re hurting. I know you want this to be over. You’ve been a fucking rockstar all fucking day and you deserve a break. Now, I’m going to come sit in front of you on the bed, okay?” Jake peeked around at the doctor to make sure it was alright before moving the pillows and sitting against the headboard. “You’re going to put your hands on my shoulders and you’re gonna squeeze so damn tight that you’re going to receive a citation for damaging military property. But you’re going to give us one more big push. Our babies need you right now. Okay?”

Buttercup couldn’t help but nod. Not when she was looking into the beautiful green eyes of the man she loved. She could do this. She could be brave and face the pain, the fear. For him. For their two beautiful babies.

Her next contraction came and went in a flurry of activity. She couldn’t remember the pain or the fear. But she could remember the nurse handing her a squirming baby girl before handing Jake the scissors and letting him cut the cord.

“Baby number 2 is on the way, but you should have a few minutes to cuddle with baby number one before you need to get back to work, mama,” Dr. Friedman smiled at the family of 3 while swapping out her gloves.

“She’s beautiful, darlin’.” Jake pressed a kiss to Buttercup’s sweat-slick forehead. “You still like her name?”

Buttercup nodded, panting heavily as she leaned against him, cradling their daughter between their bodies. “Abigail Juliet Seresin. Want to hold her?”

Jake took the tiny girl in his arms and felt something inside of himself melt. The most perfect little being in the world, and she was half him, half Buttercup. “Hey Abby,” he murmured, hearing a monitor start to beep more rapidly. “I’m your daddy. The total badass that was just holding you is your mama. And your sibling is on their way, I think, so I’m going to pass you off to this lovely nurse to hold you so I can help your mama.”

With one more big push, another flurry of activity, and a sigh of relief, their second daughter entered the world. Jake scooped Buttercup into his arms to help her settle into a more comfortable position before the nurse handed her the second squalling baby. Abby was wrapped in a light pink blanket and deposited in her father’s arms.

“Charlotte…” Buttercup murmured, limbs shaking with exhaustion. “Charlotte Delta Seresin.”

Jake couldn’t help the tear that came to his eye. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Neither were aware of what the nurses were doing around them, and they didn’t really care. Both were enamoured with their daughters. Their family.

Staring at his three girls, Jake made a vow. A vow that would supersede any he made to the military. He would do whatever it takes to be there for his family. To protect them. He would never, ever stop fighting for them.

London, England, Now

Everything had been packed into her duffle bag. Childcare had been arranged. There had even been a convenient black cab sitting outside of her house. And then…he was there.

“Jake?”

The man in question stood at her front gate, a bouquet of pink roses in one hand and a gym bag in the other. The black cab idling behind him trundled down the street as they stared at each other.

He looked as tired as she felt, and she felt the heavy press of guilt weigh down on her shoulders. She had done that to him. She had left him behind, left Charlie behind, and he had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

One hand lingering on her front gate, he offered a tentative smile. “Hey Buttercup.”

“What…” She swallowed back the emotions suddenly clogging her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it took about ten seconds for me to realize that I didn’t want you to go. I would’ve been here earlier, but organizing childcare, last-minute flights, someone to take over ranch business…” He sighed and shrugged. “It took a bit to get everything settled. But I’m here now because I realized something.” He reached over and opened the latch to her gate, swinging it open to let himself in. In two strides, he was standing at the foot of her stairs.

“What did you realize?” she murmured.

He handed her the flowers, his hand lingering to give hers a tight squeeze. “I realized that I listened to you give all sorts of reasons for why you couldn’t stay, and I gave you reasons why you could. But I never gave you the reasons why I want you to stay.”

She pulled the flowers up to her nose to give herself a moment to compose herself. Never in a million years did she think that he would follow her. Not when she was the one who left. But there he was, standing on her front stoop in London, giving her flowers and wanting to talk to her.

She sniffled. “Let’s go inside.”

Jake nodded gratefully and stepped up to stand at her back as she fumbled with unlocking the door again. “Is Abby home? I’d love to see her but this conversation…I don’t think it can wait.”

She turned her head back to look at him, so handsome in his red flannel and blue jeans. “She’s at a friend’s house. Bob dropped her off before going to work. Where’s Charlie?” Her heart ached, remembering how Charlie had refused to even meet her gaze as they had packed into the airport taxi.

“With Nat and Javy.”

She nodded and let him into the house, dropping her duffle onto the floor and guiding him into the living room. “I’m just going to get some water for these,” she murmured. “Do you want something to drink?”

Jake shook his head, staring around the room as she disappeared into the kitchen. Being in her space felt natural. Almost like he had been there before. The dark teal walls set off the walnut furniture, and he recognized a few of the paintings hanging from the walls, prints that she had mentioned over a decade ago that she loved. Photos of her family lined the mantlepiece. Most were of Buttercup and Abby, but there were some photos of Bob and Natasha as well. The whole space felt homey, lived in, in a way that he hadn’t expected. He could see why she had wanted to come back. This was a home she had built for herself. He’d be hesitant to give it up too, if he had been in her shoes.

A light clearing of the throat turned his attention back to Buttercup, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Do you want to sit?” She gestured to the soft suede couch, and he took a seat on one end, green eyes following her as she settled into an armchair next to him, a small side table in between them. The silence stretched between them as Buttercup picked her fingernails, staring down at her hands. Jake could only watch her, all the words he wanted to say building up in his chest.

“I’m sorry—”

“I wanted to tell you—”

Their words mixed together in a jumble until they stopped and grinned at each other, embarrassment painting their features.

“Do…do you want to go first?” Jake offered, noting the almost desperate look in her eyes.

She nodded; eyes fixed on her fingernails. “I’m sorry. I never…I mean, it wasn’t supposed to. Jake, what I’m trying to say is…” She nearly growled in frustration. “I was going to type up everything I wanted to say to you on the flight and memorize it so that this wouldn’t happen.”

“Flight? You were coming to see me?” He could feel the hope blossoming in his chest, and he fought to push it down, smother it so as to not scare her off.

“I…” she blushed. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. How I left…it wasn’t fair. To you or Charlie or Abby. I wanted to clear the air…maybe, try to fix things. If you wanted to.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.”

Her responding smile was a weak, nervous thing, and he reached out his hand to grasp hers. “I’m sorry, too.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he squeezed her hand, silently urging her to let him speak. “I probably shouldn’t have taken you to bed that night. Not because I didn’t want to. God, I wanted to. I’d basically been white knuckling it since I dove into that hotel pool after you, and when you told me to kiss you, I kinda lost my grip.”

“You lost your grip?” Her voice was incredulous, and he grinned in response.

“You’ve always been able to knock me off my game, Buttercup. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He smiled at her, squeezing her hand as she blushed. “But I should’ve known what that would do to you, to us. Especially since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it and what it meant.”

She nodded, tilting her head to look at him. “What…what did it mean?”

He huffed a sigh, leaning his head back against the suede sofa. “Jesus, Buttercup…it meant everything to me. Holding you again, feeling you again…” He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “It felt like things were finally back to normal. I woke up with you in my arms again after almost 12 years. I got to kiss your cheek that morning as I snuck out of bed to make our family breakfast. I got to hang out with both my daughters. We were planning a full day of fun family activities, and it felt so fucking domestic that the Jake from 15 years ago probably would’ve punched me in the dick for being so soft.” He grinned at the soft rasp of her chuckle. “And yeah, I was pretty pissed off when you told me you were leaving. I saw my daughter hurting and I was hurting, and I lashed out at you.”

“I deserved it.”

He was already shaking his head before she could get the words out. “Not like that, you didn’t. I basically told you the same shit I did 12 years ago when you told me you wanted to take the job out here. I didn’t listen to you. And looking at this place, who can blame you for wanting to come back?” He looked around again, wishing the walls could talk. Wishing they would tell him stories of the 12 years he missed out on because he was such a stubborn prick. “You built a life for yourself and Abby out here. You should be proud.”

“And you should hate me.” Her words, gasped out through a sob, brought his attention back to her like a shot. “I abandoned you again. I couldn’t keep my shit together long enough to have a real, adult conversation with you because I was so fucking scared that, if I did, I would stay. We would stay and things would be so fucking good between us, because they were also so fucking good between us, and then the other shoe would drop and I would end up hurt again, except this time Abby would choose you because I’m the monster who keeps fucking up, so I would end up all alone, and I’ve worked so hard to be okay with being alone but I don’t think I would be able to recover from being with you again.” Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as she tried to catch her breath. “And I was so damn scared of being vulnerable with you, but it was so damn easy to fall back in step beside you. The dinner, and the football game, and the party, and all these little moments where I found myself slipping, found myself having to remind myself that we weren’t married anymore, and it was scary.” She mopped at her eyes with the sleeves of her oversized sweater and sniffled. “I like who I am better when I’m with you. The scary things aren’t so scary when you’re by my side.” Her admission was so quiet that he had to lean in to hear her. “But needing you like that? I knew it would only hurt me more if I let myself need you again and lost you anyway.”

“You’re not going to lose me again,” he murmured, thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.

“You don’t know that.”

“What I know…” He tugged her hand so that she turned to face him. “What I know is that I’m going to fight for you, fight to keep you in my life again. Because I like who I am better when I’m with you too. I’m less of a condescending prick when you’re around. I don’t take stupid, unnecessary risks when I know that I’ve got you to go home to. I don’t…” He cleared his throat, ready to admit the one thing he had never spoken aloud to anyone, not even his therapist. “I don’t feel the pull to get back in the air when I know that the best thing in my life is on the ground. I just never realized that until I lost you.” With another tug at her hand, he pulled her onto the couch beside him. “I told you that I gave you all sorts of reasons why you could stay, but I never told you why I wanted you to stay.” He raised a hand to brush the tears from her watery eyes, broad palm cupping her cheek. “I want you to stay because of how warm and happy the house feels when you’re in it. I want you to stay because of how much lighter Charlie is with you in her life. I want you to stay because you make Rooster less of a miserable dick.” Her snort of laughter made him paused, heart warming at the sound. “I want you to stay because my life hasn’t been the same since you walked out of our home that night, divorce papers signed on the kitchen table with your wedding ring on top.” His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone, and he let those words that were burning in his chest escape. “I want you to stay because I love you and I want to give us another chance.”

Buttercup crumpled into his chest, Jake’s arms going around her to hold her close as the words sank in. He felt safe and warm. He felt like home.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Jake only moved to go get Buttercup a glass of water from her kitchen. That had been another peek into her life here. The walls were a light burgundy, cabinets a light grey with silver fixtures and appliances. When he returned, he pressed the glass into her hand before allowing her to curl up into him again, her tears starting to clear.

“How don’t you hate me? I hate me.” Her quiet, ragged voice broke their silence.

“I think maybe that’s the problem,” he murmured, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair. “I never hated you. I tried to, but the more I tried, the less I hated you. It was like…by trying to rationalize hating you, I ended up playing Devil’s advocate for why you left.” He chuckled quietly. “I kept coming to your defence against myself. I guess I just don’t have it in me to hate you. But you…” His firm but gentle hand traced her cheek before tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “You’ve always been harder on yourself than anyone around you. And I get that. I practically invented that. Part of what made me fall in love with you is that you have the same drive to be perfect, to be the best at everything. That’s what made me the best at Top Gun. That’s what’s made you an award-winning author and a fucking incredible mother. When you got sick, I think maybe you kept blaming yourself for it not being perfect, which only made it worse?”

Buttercup nodded against his fingers on her chin and sighed. “My therapist and I talked about it a lot. I’ve been working on letting go of trying to be perfect, but it’s hard to reconcile with. I did a lot of damage.”

“So did I,” Jake murmured back. “I was basically a team pariah before you came along and turned me into a half decent human being. And maybe if I had admitted to someone—to Mav or Penny or my grandfather—that we needed help, that we were struggling, then maybe I could’ve gotten us both help before divorce became the only option. But living in Texas, having my grandfather around, it really helped. When I was struggling, he told me that I had to work on forgiving myself for letting us fall apart. It took a long time, longer than it should have.” He chuckled morosely and ran a hand over his hair. “Mav always used to tell us that we couldn’t afford to think in the cockpit. That we had to act on instinct and not get caught up in our mistakes. Letting you go, getting divorced? Those are the mistakes that I could never move past. Maybe because I knew I needed to fix them? I don’t know. But I was finally able to forgive myself for the part that I played. And this isn’t going to work if you don’t do the same.”

Fresh tears spilled over Buttercup’s cheeks. “But what if we do try again and it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does work?” He tugged her close and brushed away her tears. “What if it does work and it ends up being incredible?” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, reveling in the way she melted against him at the simple touch. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to try?”

Lips trembling, Buttercup met Jake’s green gaze. “You’re worth it,” she whispered through her tears. “You always have been. I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Jake’s soft, Texan drawl brooked no argument. “We’ve worked through our crap. We know what to look out for. We know how to communicate better than we did before. And we’ve got a whole team behind us who want us to succeed.” He smiled down at her, so soft and full of love that the last of Buttercup’s defences melted away. “I love you, Buttercup. I always have and I always will. I know we’ve got a ton of logistical bullshit to figure out, like where to live and—”

“Actually—” Buttercup cut him off with a small, sheepish grin. “I might have talked to my company before you got here.”

Jake went impossibly still. “You did?”

She shrugged shyly. “Bob made a good point. I’m the one with the awards, I’m the one with my name on the covers of the books. I should be the one in charge. So…I pointed that out to them. And after a few ultimatums and making one of the lawyers cry, we were able to come to an agreement.” The hope in Jake’s eyes made her chest ache. She reached out and trailed a soft hand over his cheek. “I might have to keep some strange hours, and I need to come back for in-person meetings once a quarter, but otherwise…they’re alright with me working from home. In Texas.”

Jake’s responding whoop of excitement had her covering her ears for all of a second before he scooped her off the couch and spun her around.

“Whoa, whoa, easy cowboy!” Buttercup laughed, hands on his broad chest to steady herself.

“You’re sure this is okay with you?” Jake breathed; face so close to hers that his breath fanned over her.

“I…I want to try again.” Buttercup teared up as she said the words, but she knew them to be true. The truest words she had ever spoken. “I love you, Jake Seresin. I don’t think I ever stopped. And I want to move to Texas to try this again with you.”

Jake’s smile was more brilliant than the Sun. “As you wish, Buttercup.”

Buttercup launched herself into his arms, the arms that had held her and kept her safe for so long, as she heard a key jangle in the door.

“Mum?”

“Abby, darling, I told you. Your mother has gone on a little trip. She will be back soon.” Genevieve’s lilting voice held no admonishment, only reminder.

“We’re in here,” Buttercup called through a laugh, head buried in Jake’s chest.

“Mum?” She could hear Abby coming closer. “Did you miss your flight? Where were you go—DAD!” Not willing to let go of his Buttercup, Jake extended an arm and wrapped Abby up into their embrace. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlie? What’s going on? Mum, why are you crying?”

Buttercup gently soothed her through her tears, a bright smile on her face. “Shh, babe. It’s alright. I was going to go back to Texas to talk things through with your father, but he beat me here. And…” She smiled brightly at Jake. “I think we came to a solution that will make everyone happy.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” Genevieve cooed from her place in the doorway.

Jake turned to smile at her and stilled. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is a French supermodel standing in your living room?”

The three ladies laughed at Jake’s astonished face. “You must be Jake Seresin. I have heard so much about you from Robert.” Genevieve extended one perfectly manicured hand out and he shook it dazedly.

“Robert?”

“Did I hear my name?” Bob’s voice called from the front door. A few steps brought him to the living room, where he wrapped an arm around Genevieve’s shoulders. “Hi sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and Jake’s mouth dropped even further.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

Jake tilted his head to whisper in Buttercup’s ear. “Your brother is dating a French supermodel?”

Before she could do more than giggle, Buttercup heard her front door open again.

“You know, y’all should really change the locks after someone moves out.” Natasha’s voice boomed through the house. “I know it’s only been like two days but c’mon.”

Buttercup’s head whipped towards Jake. “I thought you said Charlie was with Nat and Javy?”

He grinned, so cocky and self-assured. “I did. I just never said where Charlie, Nat and Javy were.” He pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t think that I would fly across an ocean to visit my wife and leave our daughter home alone, did you?”

Buttercup flushed because, well, that’s exactly what she had been planning to do.

“We’re in here!” Abby shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

Charlie bounded around the corner and, without hesitation, launched herself at her mother. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye!”

Gasping for breath, Buttercup wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m the one who is so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I was scared.”

Charlie nuzzled into her mother’s chest. “Scared?”

“Yeah, honey.” Buttercup reached out an arm and pulled Abby close too. “But I’m not anymore. Your dad and I talked, and he helped me realize that I can’t let my fears rule my life. It’s not fair to anyone.”

“And what does that mean?” Bob asked, one hand resting on Genevieve’s back. He reached over to hug Natasha close as she came further into the house, Javy in tow.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself.” Nat cocked an eyebrow at her.

“It means…” She smiled over at Jake, who couldn’t help himself. He pressed a slow, sweet kiss to her lips, feeling everything in his life click into place, like the puzzle that was his life was finally complete. “It means that we’re going home. We have a lot of work to do, and it might not be perfect, but it’s worth it. We are worth it.”

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#glen powell #jake seresin x reader #as you wish fic #jake seresin #top gun maverick #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman x reader #tgm fic #tgm #top gun maverick fanfiction

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lottesreads · 2 months ago

Text

Why Me? - Part 12

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, mentions of nightmares, mentions of PTSD, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick, mentions of limb loss (it'll all make sense),

Word Count: 9500

Summary: Everyone prepares for the storm, and you're left with a lot to think about as some forgotten feelings come back.

A/N: Hiiii guys, I am so sorry this took SO LONG. For some reason it was so hard to write and school started so ya know how that goes. But hopefully this makes up for it?? I love all of you and as always I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments feed my life force just btw

p.s. you know I love to hear what you think, so fire away

Masterlist

Bob knows he messed up. He knows that, and as much as he wishes he never put you in this situation to begin with, he can’t undo what he said. Things have just gone completely downhill since he told you how he felt and it just…. feels like it’s all his fault. You’re quiet, secluding yourself, and almost scared at work now. But there’s not much he can do if you refuse to open up to him. He can’t help but worry for you, but it’s up to you now. If you want to talk to him, great. If not, he just hopes you talk to someone else.

The wind has slowly been gaining speed since early this morning when he took Sylvia out for a run. It was his last chance to get her out of the house before the shit hit the fan and he wasn’t gonna keep her cooped up anymore than she had to be. He’s been in a daze since yesterday. Can’t quite seem to focus on anything he puts before him, including the several garden gnomes and pieces of porch furniture belonging to his neighbors.

“You sure all of this will fit in the garage?”, he asks while carrying a chair down from the front steps.

“Oh I’m sure”, Rich replies. His eyes have been more focused on placing their gnome collection inside the house, but he’s been making room for everything else in the garage. He’s skeptical as he eyes the rest of the room, they’ve still got to fit their cars inside, too. He’s sure if he moved a couple of those storage bins to a higher shelf he’d be able to-

“You’ve already done enough for us, why don’t you come inside for some sweet tea, huh?”

“I’m ok”, he tries to brush him off.

“I’m not taking no for an answer Bob”, Rich offers with a raise of his thick eyebrow. Bob gives in, like he does most of the time with these two, and follows Rich inside. Harry sits at the table as he wraps up the rest of their pointy-hat clad lawn ornaments, but pauses at the sight of his husband.

“How’s everything going out there?”

“We’re just about done”, Rich responds from behind the fridge door, “I thought we deserved a water break.” Bob laughs to himself, he really hasn’t done much except move a couple pieces of furniture. He probably could have been finished by now if they didn’t keep offering him water or tea.

“Oh that reminds me”, Harry turns to his husband, “We need to bring the hose from the side of the house in. I forgot when I finished watering the garden yesterday.” Bob isn’t able to take one step in the direction of the door before Rich urges him into the seat across from Harry.

“Don’t you worry about that one young man, I got it.”

“It’s really no trouble-”

“I insist, you take a seat and drink your tea. You can take a turn listening to Harry complain for once.” Rich slides a glass of sweet tea in front of Bob before patting Harry on the shoulder and stepping outside.

“I just wish I could help you boys more”, Harry starts. “But ya know the leg starts acting up whenever a storm is coming.” He emphasizes his point by tapping his metal prosthetic onto the side of the table, shaking it the slightest bit. Bob’s never sure if he’s talking about the actual prosthetic hurting, or what’s left of his leg, but at this point he’s too scared to ask. All he knows is that whenever he gets a call from Harry early in the morning, there’s bound to be a storm before the day’s over. This time however, he got his weather from the news, like a normal person.

“So-”, Harry starts as Bob takes a swig from his glass, “Are we going to be seeing Miss Mitchell anytime soon?” The sweet tea halts in Bob’s throat, sliding down the wrong tube and causing him to choke on the beverage. He does his best to not drop the glass onto the table in order to stop himself from spraying the drink everywhere, but Harry looks like he could care less as his brow raises. Bob clearly was not expecting him to bring you up, and Harry’s squint gives into the fact he’s happy to catch him off guard.

“I’d make an assumption, but I’m not quite sure how to make one out of that kind of reaction.” Bob continues trying to clear his throat by coughing, but Harry waits.

“No”, he chokes, “She uh- she won’t be coming by anytime.” Harry hums to himself as he turns back to the bubble wrap.

“That’s too bad. She was quick, I liked her.” Me too, Bob thinks to himself. He just gives him a slight frown at the news. “Seemed like you were pretty fond of her, too.” Bob’s cheeks heat up at his insinuation, and he tries to make a run for it.

“Ok! I should probably go help-”

“Sit back down”, Harry groans. Bob begrudgingly does as the man says as he begins to toy with the condensation forming on his glass. “All I’m saying is, you both obviously like each other. What gives?” All he can do is shake his head at the thought. There’s too much, but maybe he’ll understand.

“There’s just a lot of other stuff involved.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well, for starters her title isn’t ‘Miss’... it’s Lieutenant.” Bob’s gaze flicks over to watch Harry’s eyes widen in realization.

“Shit. Is she a WSO, too?”

“Nah, she’s a pilot”, he smiles, “A damn good one.” Harry chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I shoulda known.” Bob furrows his brows, silently asking him to explain. “She just had this look in her eye…Can’t really explain it.” Bob knows the one. The silent determination he sees whenever you climb into the cockpit. No matter what happens on the ground, once you ascend that ladder… you’re focused. And no one can take that away from you.

“So that’s it then? You're just gonna let her go?” Harry probes as Bob shakes his head. He focuses on a grain of wood in the table, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“It’s against strict rules”, Bob shrugs, “I don’t want to be the reason she gets into trouble. It’s better if we just leave it.”

“Is it?” Bob grabs his glass of sweet tea and takes a sip before Harry leans forward in his seat, “If I know anything about you Bob, it’s that you’ve got a level head on those shoulders. And from what I can tell about Lieutenant Mitchell, it’s that she does, too. But you can’t forget underneath all of that, you have hearts. You can’t leave that out of the equation.” Bob stills as he taps his finger on the rim of his glass. Yeah, Bob has a heart, but you do, too. And who knows if deep down this is what you really want? If he’s what you really want.

His thoughts are interrupted by Harry once again, this time as he finishes wrapping up the last gnome.

“Mitchell, huh?” Bob mindlessly nods. “You don’t happen to know if she’s got any family who served, do ya?”

“Yeah, actually. Her dad just happens to be our captain. Pete Mitchell-”

“Maverick?!”, Harry all but yells. “That cocky motherfucker’s still in service?” The front door slams shut as Rich makes his way back inside.

“What cocky motherfucker are we talking about?”, he asks as if this is a normal topic of conversation for the two of them.

“Pete Mitchell”, Harry tells him as he stares at Bob in awe.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time”, Rich replies as he grabs himself and Harry their own drinks. Bob pivots in his seat as Rich brings both glasses to the counter, eyes wide in shock. “Don’t tell me-” He’s obviously already made the connection as Harry nods at him. He simply shrugs and continues to pour their drinks, brushing off the fact that Harry seems to be stuck on. Something he thought Rich of all people would want to talk about.

“Did you fly with him?” Bob directs the question at Harry. He rolls his eyes.

“For a very brief time. He’s a few years younger than me, but always acted like he was the best of the best. Didn’t even win the goddamn Top Gun trophy.”

“Well”, Rich chimes in as he sets the glass in front of Harry, “That wasn’t entirely his fault.” Bob’s eyes unintentionally squint as he tries to think back on what he actually knows about your dad. There’s very limited information he sought after Hangman revealed he flew with Rooster’s dad, and- then it hits him.

“Wait”, he stops the two men, “Were you guys here when they had the accident?”

“I wasn’t”, Harry responds, “But Rich was. He was actually one of the-” Rich’s hand claps down on his husband’s shoulder, effectively stopping him from finishing the story. He grants Bob a forced smile.

“I was. It was a… a very sad day.” Rich keeps moving, leaving his glass of tea untouched as he moves the box of packed up gnomes to the living room. Bob leaves it at that. If there was more to the story he wouldn’t want to probe where he’s not welcome to.

After helping move the small outdoor coffee table into the garage, he insists on parking their cars himself. Just to make sure he did leave enough room for everything to fit. And with his many years experience with Tetris, he’s able to pack anything that the wind might sweep away into safe hiding spaces for the night.

-----------------------

If the puffy eyes that greet you in the mirror are any indication that you’d been crying, the wad of tissues scattered around your trash can would certainly do the trick. It was an ugly cry, one that you realized was futile to resist against the snot dripping down your nose. You’d cried more in the past couple months than you had in the past five years. Not to mention you haven’t cried to the point where you kept a roll of toilet paper to use as tissues next to your bed since you were a teenager. But even then you had mastered to cry in silence, to not alert anyone or “bother” someone with the noise of your anguish.

It wasn’t a question that was the reason for your headache. You even forgot you got hit in the face until you tried wiping the sleep from your eyes, only to pull your hand away as soon as it brushed near the red and purple bruise.

“Son of a bitch”, you muttered as you made your way to the bathroom. The wind howls outside your room as you splash your face with cold water, hoping to reduce the swelling before inevitably seeing your father. Gently, you wipe your face with a towel, taking a good hard look at the aftermath from the night before. You huff out a breath before tearing your gaze away from the mirror, gathering the tissues you’d thrown half-heartedly in the direction of the trash can the night before.

Your father is already up and moving as you descend the stairs. Granted, you did allow yourself to sleep in today. He’s sitting on the couch, slipping his shoes on when you make eye contact. He immediately smiles with a grimace upon seeing your face.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you, “How you feeling this morning?” You simply scoff and turn to the kitchen. The coffee machine is still warm, your dad already having at least his second cup of the day.

“Like I got hit in the face”, you respond. The machine hums while you let it work, and you grab an emblazoned Navy mug from the cabinet. You turn to lean on the counter, watching him finish lacing up his boots. “Where are you going?”

“Well, Penny’s moving everything at the bar and I figured since I took care of our stuff yesterday, I’d go help out. Plus it’ll be my last chance to take the bike for a spin this weekend.”

“And they say chivalry is dead”, you comment as the coffee seeps into your cup. He chuckles and makes his way over to you. You turn, mug in hand as he walks up. He grimaces again at your face, but his shoulders slump as he notes your puffy eyelids. “How’d you sleep”

“Alright”, you mumble.

“I can stay here if-”

“Dad”, you groan as you roll your eyes, “What am I, five?”

“No- but I’m just saying, if you need me I’ll be here for you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine.” He seems unsure as he glances between you and the front door. “Go”, you urge him, “Be a knight in shining armor.” He laughs again as he bids you goodbye and leaves. The rumble of his motorcycle tapering off as he exits the neighborhood.

Truly, you are fine. You’re not great, but you’ve been worse. In fact, this is probably the most down time you’ve had in a while. If you were still talking to Bob you would probably text him and see what he was up to, but alas. There’s not much to do except waste away for the rest of the day. Which is exactly what you do. You turn the t.v. on and throw your feet up. They almost hit the large box Bradley left yesterday. You guess you could see what’s in there for you, but you’re already so comfortable and it's just so… far away. And soon enough, your eyes are drooping shut again.

-----------------------

The day passes by painlessly as you switch from folding laundry, to eating whatever is left in the fridge. Your headache slowly dissipates with every bite of food and drink of water, but as it gets closer to evening, the noises from outside get louder and louder. A leaf from a palm tree being ripped from its home and hitting the side of the house, ran pattering, and thunder booming in the distance.

Deciding you’ve had enough of scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you move back to the living room and turn on something you can watch without much thought. The cardboard box Bradley brought over still sits on the coffee table, and huffing out a breath you decide to take the lid off. There’s a bundle of old photos, a couple of dirtied up baseballs, and an old envelope you move to look at, but your phone rings before you can inspect it further. Your dad’s face appears on the screen and you swipe to answer.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Hey kiddo, listen, there was a lot that needed to be boarded up and taken care of at the bar, I just barely got back to Penny’s. I know everything’s taken care of at the house, but the wind and rain are picking up. I don’t want to leave you alone, but it might be safer just to spend the night here. Are you gonna be ok?”

“Dad, I'll be fine. I’d feel better knowing you’re at Penny’s rather than driving your bike in the storm.” You can hear him sigh on the other end. Even with your permission you know he still feels guilty leaving you.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I swear. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok sweetheart. Promise you’ll call me if anything happens or you need me, ok?”

“I promise”, you can’t help but smile through your words at his protectiveness.

“Alright, well I love you, and hopefully things will slow down and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Love you, too, dad. Bye.” He bids you goodnight, even if it isn’t 8 o’clock yet, it feels like much later with the storm clouds covering up any chance of dying sunlight.

Turning back to the box you pick up the envelope, there’s an unexpected weight to it and you hold your breath at the sight of Carole’s handwriting. There’s one word on the front and it’s simply labeled “Bug”. Your once steady hands shake as you trace the folded edge that has been sealed for almost two decades. You can’t open it fast enough, but at the same time you’re hesitant to see quite possibly what her last words to you could be. Slipping your finger under the seal, you try to minimize the damage as it rips open. As if it were an extension of the woman herself.

Inside sits a lined piece of journal paper, folded neatly into thirds. But your eyes linger on the item weighing it down as you huff out a breath in disbelief. Your fingers reach inside, and once completely taken out of its hiding place, a silver chain with a butterfly pendant hangs from your hand.

With the necklace still wrapped around your fingers, your eyes water as you reach for the note, unfolding it. The paper shakes as your heartbeat quickens. And her voice fills your head while you trace the all familiar cursive with a featherlight touch.

My Darling Bug,

Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice this found its way back into my possession? I don’t know why or when you did this, but I thought I told you it wasn’t mine anymore. I gave this to you for a reason, Bug. I wanted you to know that Bradley, your dad, and I will always be with you. I think you might need it now more than ever. It might be a little different, but I don’t want you to look at it and be sad I’m not with you. I want you to look at it and be happy that I still am, no matter what.

I know I made you promise me to be brave. And you have kept that promise, so if you think you haven’t, you’re wrong. But maybe I should have worded it differently, because you don’t need to be brave like anybody else. I want you to continue being brave like you. Because I know you are. Even so, I want you to remember how I got this necklace in the first place. It all happened because Goose was brave enough to ask. He taught me that being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared anymore. It means that even though you are scared, you do it anyway. You don’t run from it, you face it head on. He always told me I wasn’t born with the fear part of my brain intact, but he was wrong. When we lost him, I knew for a fact that part of my brain was there. I was so scared, but I knew I had to keep going. If not for me, then for Bradley and your dad. Heaven knows your dad was scared out of his mind, but that’s what makes him one of the bravest people I know. He kept flying, and then soon enough, you came along and changed our lives completely. And I know I’m rambling, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me- to all of us.

So I don’t want you to live your life in fear or with regrets, wondering the same things, so please; continue to be the brave girl I know you are. It’s hard to take those first steps. But it is so worth the risk, because you deserve everything good this world has to offer.

And this may or may not make it easier, but I just ask that you take this back and wear it with pride. I will always be with you, bug. And I can’t stand another moment having this sitting in my jewelry box, collecting dust when you can wear it and put it to much better use. You deserve it. I love you very much, don’t forget that.

P.S. I know Bradley’s a big boy and he acts like he can take care of himself, but I know he’ll need you just as much as you need him. Same with your dad. Be there for each other.

-Love, Carole

You move the letter away from under your face as you feel the tears start to fall. You’re just quick enough as they hit your lap instead. The necklace is now safely encased in your grip as you take in a ragged breath. All this time- You can’t stomach the thought. This entire time, these past 16 years you’ve been separated from this last piece of Carole you never even knew existed. And the necklace you thought was lost to time now sits in your palm. You hold on to it. Tight.

You still don’t let go as you gingerly place the letter back in the envelope. Deciding you need to put these two things in a safer spot than your living room, you walk up to your room and go to the shoebox above your closet. Inside, you move the velvet box with your Academy ring to the side, making room for the letter. You almost place the necklace in with it, but you’re not going to disobey Carole by not putting it on the next chance you get.

With the silver chain still wrapped in your hand, you put the shoebox back, just about tripping over your flight suit in the process. In everything that happened yesterday after therapy you must have forgotten to put it in your laundry basket, or hang it up at least. As you pick the jumbled green fabric up, your ears prick up at the sound of something hitting the floor. The gleam of a copper coin catches your eye and you drop your uniform altogether, opting to pick it up instead.

Carole’s words swirl through your head as your heart rate picks up. You stare at the penny in one hand, and open your other to reveal the silver butterfly. The memory of Bob’s crooked smile fills your senses and your heart beats faster again. There’s a phantom ache of his hand cradling yours, gently placing that first penny into your palm on the tiled floor of the locker room. Even before you kissed there was this urge to want to get to know him from deep inside the dark recesses of your heart. From places you thought you blocked off and boarded up after your last boyfriend. You left no room for weakness, no room for anyone to have the upper hand, but yet, you feel safe around Bob. You still do, even after it tore you to shreds resisting that same urge to talk to him, to look at him. It scares you, how after only meeting him a few months ago, it feels like he knows the darkest parts of you, and still wants to learn more. To care for you in a way that you haven’t let someone in a long time. And you want to do the same for him.

That urge sends chills up your spine as thunder booms in the distance, the once small patter of rain picking up as it hails on your roof. Clenching the penny in your fist, you delicately hold the necklace in the other, and you swear the lightning reflects off the silver butterfly, almost winking at you. In the glint, you hear Carole’s voice from when she first gave it to you, and again through her writing. “Be brave”, her whisper echoes. And in that moment, your heart beats louder, anticipating what you know you’re going to do next before your brain has the time to catch up. Placing the necklace on your side table next to your bed, your feet sprint down the stairs the moment the chain leaves your fingers.

You can hardly differentiate the thud of your feet from the thunder that is somehow getting closer by the second. Throwing on the nearest jacket and lacing up your shoes, you grab your keys and head to the garage. Your old faithful Toyota lays dormant as you jump in, and start the engine. Or at least try to. It sputters a couple times as you turn the key again, and again.

“No, no, no. Please”, you plead as you take a deep breath, holding out hope as you try one last time, “C’mon!” With a final twist, the engine roars to life. “Yes! Thank you!” The garage opens and closes with the click of a button as you peel out of the driveway, probably a little too fast, but who would be crazy enough to be on the streets in these conditions?

The rain doesn’t stop on your account, and both hands are white knuckling the steering wheel as you attempt to maintain the little control you have of your vehicle over mother nature. Your windshield wipers are moving as fast as they can, but it’s little to no good as you traverse the streets. You might have been better off with a canoe.

Nonetheless, you’re so close. Your destination is only a couple blocks away, practically in sight as your car lurches forward, sputtering, before ultimately slowing as you pull to the side of the road.

“No, no, no, are you kidding me?!”, you scream as you hit the steering wheel. She was doing so good! What happened? Placing the car in park, you remove the key and try again, but nothing. Squinting through the rain pattered window, you make out the street sign up ahead as it sways in the wind. This is ok. You can do this. Clenching your jaw and ensuring your phone is buried deep in one of your pockets along with your keys, you push against the gusts of wind and open the car door.

Your face is immediately pelted with ice-like bullets, raining down on you without mercy. Even with the hood of your jacket on, it does no good as you run across the sidewalk and turn down the street. A few house lights are on, but you can barely see as the rain washes over you in sheets. A gust of wind almost gets the better of you as you try your hardest to hold the hood to your head, creating any kind of cover you can. You are so close to throwing in the towel. So close to going back to your car and hiding away until the storm is over. But you didn’t come this far just to turn back. You will not give up.

Shining just a bit brighter than every other house on the street, your destination is in sight. Just one block and your feet make the decision for you to move faster. To run like you never have before, because this time you’re not running from anything. You’re running towards something. The rain hits you quicker, but it’s hard to feel it soak through your clothes as your feet pound against the pavement.

Your shoes slip on the step to the front door, and your fist meets the entrance much sooner than you were expecting. It creates a loud knock, but there’s no sign of life behind the door. Gaining your footing back, you knock once more. Nothing. You knock twice again. Damn it. He must not be able to hear you through the storm’s havoc. You don’t care anymore, you weren’t thinking when you hopped in your car, and you aren’t trying to stay out in the rain all night. Your knuckles are knocking repeatedly on the door, and that’s when you hear Sylvia bark. She’s getting louder as she moves closer to the door and you continue your knocking, hoping he’ll hear you over her.

“Please, c’mon”, you mutter to yourself as your teeth chatter against the words. Your knuckles are going raw from the sheer cold and the fact that you’ve been hitting them against the door for what feels like 20 minutes. The door opens with a rush of warm air and you’re greeted with the halo wrapped face of someone who only feels like warmness and comfort. The light shines around his features as they contort at what stands in front of him.

“Mantis, what the hell?!”, he yells through the wind while reaching forward to pull you inside. “Oh my god, are you crazy?!”, he exclaims as he holds your arms in place. Your teeth are chattering as he tells you to stay put before coming back with a towel that he promptly throws over your shoulders. It doesn’t do much good as you’re soaked to the bone, but he’s frantically looking for more before you reach out for him.

“Bob-”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I- I’m being brave”, you explain through the pounding rain and thunder. He pauses just for a moment, then shakes his head as he stares at you in utter confusion.

“Did you.. run here? Mantis, are you ok?”

“Bob I’m fine-”

“Do you know where you are? How did you get here?”

“Bob!”, you finally raise your voice and he meets your gaze instead of your rain-drenched form. “I will explain everything, but please just let me say what I came here to say”, you breathlessly supply. He looks back to you, hesitant, but nodding to let you continue.

“Ok”, he whispers. You can barely feel your fingers, or your toes for that matter, but your shaky hand reaches into your pocket and grasps onto the single penny you came here with. The only thing that you made sure to bring.

“What did you mean by this?”, you ask as you hold it out in front of him. “When you gave this to Phoenix, what did you want me to make of this?” His eyelashes flutter in a series of blinks as he silently takes in a breath. Without meaning to, the coin shakes in your hand, and he rushes an answer before you have to stand there any longer.

“It means what it’s always meant. I know I messed everything up, but I still want you to feel like you can trust me, and talk to me. Because you can. I know how scary it can be, and it’s…rare to find someone you feel so comfortable to be around and talk to about the nitty gritty parts of your life. And I like to believe I was that for you for a little bit, ‘cause… you were that for me.” Your heart melts at his sentiment as you continue to drench the walkway of his home.

“Now can you please tell me why you drove here in the middle of a hurricane?” You swallow, hoping whatever fears you have fall to the back of your throat to make room for what you need to tell him. Because, here you are: Soaking wet, standing in Bob’s home, with nothing but a penny and the knowledge that even if you’re scared, you can do this anyway.

“Bob”, you sigh, “You have not messed anything up. In fact, you did something I was too afraid to do.” Taking another deep breath, you ignore the lines riddled in his forehead and continue.

“I have been scared for most of my life. I know sometimes I act like I’m invincible, but I’m not. But I am also sick of being scared. I am sick of pretending. Life is too damn short, and for once instead of just acting like I am, I am trying to be brave. I can’t let this be another ‘what if’. I won’t let you be that. You deserve to at least know how I feel.”

“Mantis, you don’t have to-”

“No, but I want to”, you nod with authority, solidifying to Bob that this is a risk you want to take. You take in another deep breath as it fills you with courage. “Bob, it’s hard to explain, but- you make me feel brave. But at the same time you also scare the shit out of me”, you can’t help but laugh as the crease in his forward melts a little bit. “You scare me because you care so deeply for the people around you, and you’re so generous, and kind, and I can’t help but want to be around you all the time. And- and I’m rambling aren’t I?”, you ask as he breathes out a miniscule laugh. And then you’re gifted with the slightest uptick of his mouth. Just enough for you to know that he’s still listening. But when is he not?

“Anyway. I just- it kills me that you think so lowly of yourself, and I need you to know that I care about you. A lot. And if it hasn’t been blatantly obvious by how I’ve kissed you”, he blushes and looks down at his feet as if he didn’t kiss you with just as much passion, “I like you beyond the point of being friends. And- I feel like you see me. Not just as an aviator, not just as a woman, but as a person. But that’s also scary in itself because you’ve seen my flaws, and each time you didn’t look away. You stayed. You stayed and made sure I didn’t stay down.”

“You didn’t need me for that”, he shakes his head. And you smile through your shaky breath. “You don’t stay down long.”

“Maybe not, but it’s easier to get up when someone lends you a hand.” He stills at your words and your mind tracks back to find the courage you came here with. It’s not hard when Bob’s standing right in front of you with Carole’s voice running through the back of your mind.

“I’ve tried brushing these feelings off, and staying away from you, thinking I was doing what was best for the both of us. And… I don’t know about you, but it’s only been like two days without talking to you- and I miss being around you.” The tell you’re about to cry starts with your throat straining, and at this point you’re trying everything to talk through it. “I don’t want to mourn you while you’re still here-”, you choke out as you clench your jaw to stop your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are.

“Hey”, Bob whispers as he moves closer to you, “It’s ok-”

“I don’t want to lose you when I’ve never even had you”, you breathe a shaky breath as he places his hands on your shoulders, the warmth permeating through your jacket and towel.

“Whoa, where is all this coming from?” Your breathing is rapidly increasing, as he stares down into your eyes, concern painted through the way he looks at you. That and something else you’re too hyped up on adrenaline to identify at this moment.

“It’s ok, just breathe for me. Can you do that?” You nod as you stare back at him, his hands reaching out to grasp your own, placing one on his chest. Just like he did in the locker room. God, it feels like it was ages ago.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing”, he mutters as he puts both of his hands atop your own. Your fingers thrum over the soft cotton of his shirt, and you’re almost certain his heart is beating just as fast as your own.

“Your heart’s beating really fast”, you comment as you watch your fingers underneath his.

“Are you sure that’s not your own?” You exhale a laugh, but continue to feel that familiar thump from his chest.

“No, that’s definitely you.”

“Yeah”, he manages a nervous smile, “That usually happens when I’m around you.” Your hand is slowly gaining feeling back under the protection of his own, and your eyes meet his. He whispers your name softly, and this time you don’t flinch. You don’t break away, you don’t blink. Your teeth are still chattering, the noise distracting him from whatever he was going to say.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, yeah?” Silently you nod as he gives you a brief smile. He’s seemingly already accustomed to the idea of you staying the night, something you didn’t think of before running out of your own house. Taking your hand in his own, he leads you to the bottom of his stairs before jogging up to what you presume to be his bedroom. You wait as you attempt to clench your jaw to stop chattering your teeth, but that’s when you spot a shiny black nose poking out from the corner of the living room.

“Hey Syl”, you whisper while bending down. She retreats almost immediately at the sight of you, but reappears at the familiar voice. You realize you must look kind of scary with your jacket hood plastered to your face. In an attempt to get her to come closer, you peel your hood off of your head and tempt her again with your outreached hand. “It’s just me sweet girl”, you whisper as she moves forward to sniff your hand. Her tail starts a wag at the appearance of your face and you smile as she gets close enough for you to pet her head.

You’re scratching her ears as Bob returns from upstairs, now carrying clothes for you to change into.

“Ok, I’ve got some sweat pants and a t-shirt”, he explains as he sorts through them, “But I do have a sweatshirt in case you’re still cold.” He shifts his attention back to you as you stand and accept the clothes with a quiet ‘thank you’. Without the hood obstructing his view of your entire face, his brow immediately furrows at the shadow just to the side of your eye. He doesn’t get a good look at it before you’re turning to change in the bathroom. He must be seeing things. A shadow from your hair, the dim lighting, it just can’t be what he thinks it is.

Peeling your wet clothes off your body was something you didn’t think about while sprinting full speed down Bob’s street. But here you are, in his downstairs bathroom, admiring the softness of both the shirt and sweatpants he’s offered you. You’re soaked right down to your underwear, and rather than sitting uncomfortably in a wet bra and underpants, you decide to go commando. If you get cold enough Bob did offer you a sweatshirt. Tossing your wet clothes over the shower curtain, you slowly walk out of the bathroom. It’s quiet. Other than the occasional rumble of thunder, or whip of wind and rain against the windows, the only thing you’re aware of is your own breathing. Until you get into the living room and find Bob picking at his thumbs on the couch. He doesn’t notice you, and for the first time tonight, you hesitate. You run your fingers over the bottom of Bob’s shirt, holding it out slightly in front of your body. Just admiring how quickly he offered his own clothes to you. Your hair is slightly damp, but not dripping like it was moments ago, thanks to the towel he gave you when you first came in.

He must hear you shift on your feet, because soon enough his eyes follow your form in his clothes, the pants tight in some places, loose in others, but the large t-shirt does its job. He stops on your face as you give him a nervous smile and make your way over to the other end of the couch.

“Oh my god, what happened?”, he all but rushes out as you sit. His eyes are frantic with worry as you trace his concerned gaze to your cheek.

“Oh that”, you try to laugh, “It was an accident.” He swallows while he stiffens in his seat. Bridging the gap you left between the two of you, he catches your gaze as you look down at his hand.

“Mantis”, his voice darkens, “I need you to be completely honest with me.” He’s staring so intently into your eyes you feel like you’re center stage in a show you weren’t given the lines to. A kind of intensity you’ve never seen directed toward you from the man. “Did somebody hurt you?” You’re stuck in your spot, and without hesitating you answer him.

“No”, you breathe as you softly shake your head, “Bob, I promise you it was a complete accident. I was playing catch and wasn’t paying attention.” He eyes it one more time, and you see his hand twitch in his lap before it slowly makes its way to cup your face, turning it to take a better look. You hold your breath at the movement, but once his thumb strokes lightly over your skin you melt into his warmth.

“Well whoever you were playing catch with knows how to throw a pretty wicked fastball”, he mutters as he takes in the bruising along with the indent of the stitching.

“Yeah”, you sigh, not able to say much as he holds the weight of your face and much more in his gentle hand. “Rooster was a pitcher on his high school team.”

“You were playing catch with Rooster?” You let out a breathy laugh, knowing how confusing this must be.

“It’s a long story”, you tell him. “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“And he still threw it at you?”

“I try not to make sense of Rooster’s actions anymore.”

“Next time you wanna play catch, you come to me. Ok?” His eyes are still on the bruise, analyzing it from every angle.

“Are you saying you won’t throw the ball at my face?”

“No. I’ll make sure you’re ready first.” His smile fades the tiniest bit, but his hand has yet to move. It’s quiet again until a particularly loud burst of thunder has him dropping his hold on you.

“Um, let me get you some ice.”

“I’m fine. My face, feet, and hands are pretty much still numb.”

“May I?”, he asks, reaching for your hands. You’re facing him now, and he turns to mirror your own crossed legs as his hands clasp your own. Slowly, without looking back at you, he brings them closer to his face and before you have the good sense to realize what’s going on, his warm breath fans over your dead fingers. Something flips in your stomach as he starts rubbing his thumbs over the back of your palms after each slow and agonizing breath.

The contrast in temperature hurts your fingers down to the bone, but you can’t seem to take them away from Bob. He stops the breaths just for a second as he rubs your hands in contemplation.

“Mantis… Why are you here?” You’re almost certain your swallow is audible as you stare down at your joint hands. He doesn’t push you when you don’t immediately answer. He only continues to soothe your aching extremities. But when he starts breathing on them again and his glasses fog up slightly, that’s when you truly start to feel the discomfort seep from your fingers. And that’s when you know you have your answer for him. Because he will truly put your needs before his own. His clothes on your back, his sight for your warmth, his happiness for your own. But he doesn’t quite know the true extent of your own unhappiness without him in your every day.

Your answer sits on the tip of your tongue, but truly, your brain speaks before you can formulate the words you need him to hear.

“I went to therapy”, you blurt out as you stare at him. God, why can’t your mouth just say what it needs to? Why is this so hard? Bob looks at your face at your admission, blinking away his shock at the volume at which you spoke them.

“That’s- that’s great.” He goes back to rubbing your fingers, ruminating on your words, then stopping suddenly. “It wasn’t ‘cause of me, was it?”

“No!”, you’re quick to correct him. “Not at all.. I mean it wasn’t your fault, but I did talk about you a little bit”, you admit bashfully. He nods, seemingly drawing his own conclusions. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just-”. You’re hesitant to tell him about your dreams, about why your dad called him that day. Why you were so fidgety and couldn’t even look him in the eye. But then you look back at him, and you know everything will be ok. He won’t run, or look at you with pity. He might be concerned, sure, but he’ll still be there for you.

“After Nat’s party, I had a nightmare. I haven’t had one in years, and it kind of rattled me. And then I had another one. They usually happen after I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Something that would- make my mother mad at me.” He stiffens at your words, brows drawing up once more. He knows. And you don’t want him to blame himself. “But yeah, I got back in touch with my therapist. Gonna make it a regular thing now… but after my session she asked me to list three people who make me feel wanted. And it was very clear to me you’re on that list. And I hope I make you feel important, too. I know I haven’t this past week- and I’m sorry-”

“Hey”, he tugs your hands toward him just enough to get your attention, “You had enough going on, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. I can’t help it.” He whispers your name and averts his gaze from your face like he can't even bear to look at you right now. You didn’t think this was news, last time you were here he told you essentially the same thing.

“What?”, you whisper back.

-----------------------

Bob did not imagine even in his wildest dreams you would run to him in the middle of a storm. But here you are, pouring your heart out to him, your hands in his, his old t-shirt draped over your shivering body, but there’s still that tiny part of his brain telling him it’s too good to be true. And in reality, it is. Because what is he supposed to do now? What did you hope to achieve by coming over here? Your feelings don’t change the fact that this is still wildly against rules in place.

It might have been easier for him to deal with it on his own not knowing exactly how you felt, but now? He can’t put you in a position for someone to take your dream away from you. Especially after how much you’ve had to sacrifice to get to where you are. And there’s still so much for you to do.

“What do you want me to do with these feelings?” He finally asks and you’re caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- a few days ago when you came to me you were so sure this wasn’t a good idea. And now?” He searches your face for an answer in your silence. “What changed?”

“I found a letter from Carole. It was meant for 12-year-old me, " you can’t help but release a watery laugh, “but she just reminded me that some things are worth the risk.” You pause for a moment, squeezing his hands for reassurance before continuing.

“Our jobs are dangerous, and even if they weren’t, life is so precious. And I don’t want to continue breathing if I’m only half-living. I already did that, and I refuse to do it again. And I’m not asking you to do anything with what I’ve told you, I just had to let you know. And that might be selfish, but I know running from what I’m feeling isn’t fair. To you or me.”

It’s quiet again, you’re not sure if Bob is looking at you anymore, but your eyes are drawn back to his hands. One of the single greatest comforts you can’t help but indulge yourself in. A flash of lighting pierces the corner of your eye and the boom of thunder follows shortly after. It almost bleeds into the rasp in his voice as he speaks.

“Is it selfish if we both want it?”. Your eyes snap to meet his and you’re hit with that intensity again. It’s slightly masked by insecurity, but you can see how much this means to him. You’re so sure he can hear you release a sharp breath.

“What do you want-” Your thought is cut off by a deep rumble of thunder, almost shaking the structure of the house. You flinch as if the roof were about to collapse on the two of you, but you’re not catching a break as the remaining kitchen lights click off.

“Damn it”, he mutters under his breath. Bathing you and Bob in total darkness, you instinctively squeeze his hands and he squeezes right back.

“It’s ok”, his voice echoes as he tries to see anything around the darkened room. Sylvia whines from beneath her hiding spot as he blindly searches the coffee table for his phone, petting her in the process to calm her nerves. With his phone located, he turns the flashlight on and you wince at the harsh white light. Sylvia continues to whine even as she scurries out from under the table and runs up the stairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he stands and you’re left in his absence. Goosebumps crawling up your arms and legs force you to shiver and Bob sees it out of the corner of his eye.

“Here- you can take my bed. It’ll be way too cold down here.”

“Bob, no. I’ll crash on the couch”, his mouth opens to protest but you stop him before he even starts, “Plus, I think your daughter might need you up there.” He moves his hands to his hips, deliberating his choices until he eyes you.

“I mean- we could always, ya know…”

“What?”

“We could share my bed. It’s not like we haven’t already slept in the same bed together- Not that I’m assuming you want to! But it’ll keep you extra warm if we’re both there, and that way we’re in the same room and-” With a soft smile you cut off his rambling.

“I think that’s a great idea.” That crooked smile graces his face for the first time in what feels like forever, and your nerves are put at ease. You want to be the reason he smiles like that for as long as you’re able.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He silently leads you up the stairs and offers to let you use the bathroom first while he tries to tidy up the mess you hopefully didn’t see through the lens of your phone’s flashlight.

There’s not much, just a couple of dirty shirts he didn’t have the time or energy to throw into his laundry basket. And then there’s the laundry basket of clothes he was going to fold today, but got distracted at Rich and Harry’s. Shoving the basket in the corner of the room, his eyes catch on the rain-pattered window. Palm trees sway in the wind, and thanks to a flash of lightning, he watches the street run like a river. He squints, trying to find where you parked your car, hoping the damage won’t be too bad.

The click of the door opening has him turning to you, brows still furrowed.

“Hey, where’d you park your car?”

“Oh, that. Funny story”, you laugh, “It stopped running about a block that way-”, you point up the street, “And I kinda ran the rest of the way.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as you stand there chuckling.

“Mantis”, he sighs, “Why did you think any of this was a good idea?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, I just knew I had to talk to you”, you bashfully admit. A flash of lightning reflects in his glasses, and you’re brought back to your conversation downstairs. Your unfinished conversation. The hairs on your arms raise before Sylvia whines from underneath Bob’s bed.

The two of you glance back and spot her nose peeking out from under the frame. You’re on your knees, petting her head as Bob stands at the window.

“It’s ok sweet girl”, you coo. With the two of you distracted, he takes a minute to finish getting ready for bed. God, he just can’t believe you’re actually here. Granted, he wishes it was under better circumstances, but still. Stepping back into his bedroom, he’s pleased to find you already underneath the covers, your back facing him. His heart speeds up at you already so comfortable in his bed, but he gathers himself quickly before turning to close the door to the room. The bedroom the two of you are currently sharing… with his dog lying on his side of the bed.

“Before you say anything”, you rush out as you sit up, “She got up here all by herself, and I don’t have the heart to tell her to get down. So you’re just gonna have to look into those big brown eyes and be the bad guy here.” He bites down a smile as he pretends to deliberate on what he should do. Not giving in and telling you that she normally sleeps on the bed with him.

“Plus, I don’t think she’ll be as scared if she’s up here with us”, you add. With us. Yes, that word just came out of your mouth. And it might not be a big deal, but you just used that word and Bob is having a hard time not pinching himself to make sure this is all real and not another dream. Clearing his throat, he manages to cough out a “yeah”. Or something akin to agreement.

He starts to settle onto his side of the bed, and you scooch as far away from the middle as you can. Sylvia moves down the bed in between the two of you and you finally lie back on your respective pillows. You can hear his glasses hit his bedside table as his hand falls to Sylvia. There’s an unspoken tension in the room, and you’re not sure if you can wait until morning to break through it. But neither of you say anything. You just lie there like a lifeless body whose heart is also about to burst through her chest.

Another flash of lightning slices through the curtain, followed almost immediately by a horribly loud boom. Sylvia whines again and your hand falls to her. You knew his hand was there, but it doesn’t stop the shock at the feeling of your fingers brushing his. As your hand swoops over Sylvia’s fur he almost moves back as you stop. But that single touch in the dark makes you want more. So with a clear mission, you bring your hand back over her fur and start to slowly trace his knuckles and fingers. His hand turns over, inviting you to do the same to his palm before he halts your motions and instead intertwines your fingers. He’s still so much warmer than you are, and your hand melts in his. It makes you feel safe.

You don’t say anything as his thumb rubs your hand. The two of you lay in the backdrop of rain and thunder, staring at the ceiling as if it had some kind of hidden message you have to decode. Bob must find what his side says because he clears his throat before speaking.

“What you asked earlier, about what I want- I want you to be happy. Above anything else.” Your heart turns over as you face him.

“I want that for you, too… But you should know you make me really happy”, you whisper into the night. His hand flexes as his pillow rustles to your right.

“You mean that?”, his voice is clearer as he turns his head, and although you’re having a hard time seeing through the dark, you can imagine the look of fear and insecurity in his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

“Cause you make me happy, too”, he rasps, his voice somehow even deeper. And you just can’t help the way you move closer to him. Reaching with your free hand, you hold onto his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomes it with a relaxed sigh as you get comfortable. Sylvia doesn’t seem to mind being squished in between your legs, and you’re happy for the warmth these two provide you.

There’s still a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out as to what happens next, but right now? You can’t seem to care what happens tomorrow because you’re content to hold onto Bob tonight. And as you feel him kiss the top of your head, you get that deep butterfly feeling in your stomach. The good kind this time. No overwhelming urge of anxiety or doom washes over you and you know everything is going to be ok. It has to be.

-----------------------

Hey Siri, play Fearless by Taylor Swift

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#why me?#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader

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sorchathered · 11 months ago

Text

Hey Jealousy

My submission for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month, everyone say thank you @attapullman 😂

Pairing-Bob Floyd x Reader

Rating-18+ MINORS EFF OFF, this is my first ever smut and it’s a little clunky so y’all be gentle with me 🥹😬

Warnings-language, sexual content (again minors fuck off), drinking, dirty dirty smut.

Summary- After a successful mission the squad joins together for the annual Navy Gala in San Diego, Bob has been hung up on you for months but too afraid to bite the bullet. What happens when someone on the squad decides to push his buttons? Will the green eyed monster rear its ugly head and bring you two together?

As always like, reblog, comment! I crave validation and love the feedback 😂

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He’s nursing his beer across the room at his table with payback and rooster and between the look on his face and the white knuckle grip he has on his bottle anyone can tell he’s coming unraveled at the seams. You walked in earlier tonight arm and arm with his front seater Phoenix, both of you opting out of wearing your uniforms to the Navy Gala and wearing formal gowns instead. Honestly he wished he could say he even remembered what Phoenix was wearing because all he can do is gawk at the floor length red dress you have on, tight in all the right places and catching the eye of just about anyone with a pulse.

Like clockwork Hangman saunters up to the group, quick to open his big mouth to say what’s on everyone’s mind. “Damn baby on board, your girl over there is getting all sorts of attention, you might better make your move before someone else slides in and takes her home.” He wiggles his eyebrows winking in Bob’s direction, knowing he’s gotten under his skin.

“She’s not mine Seresin, we’re just friends which I know you’re well aware.” He snarls, very much out of his character and they all take notice. He doesn’t know how much more he can take of this, currently watching Yale drone at you about something stupid by the bar, he’s running his hand down your arm clearly making you antsy judging by your body language. It seems like every available guy on his team decided to ogle you like you’re just a pretty face; rather than the most perfect woman to walk the earth. Bob’s normally steadfast composure is almost non existent listening to the shit they keep spewing. Sure it’s all mostly above board and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye over it, but selfishly Bob wants to sling his jacket over your shoulders and drag you home so he can keep all the prying eyes from looking at what he wishes was his.

Hangman calls his bluff immediately, knows all too well that sweet little Bob Floyd isn’t as demure as everyone thinks. He’s seen the way he looks at you when no one else is looking, whether you know it or not that man is hook, line, and sinker 100 percent yours.

So Jake decides to poke the bear. It’s too easy really, he knows Bob’s been pining for months (let’s face it the poor boy doesn’t have a poker face) so maybe just a little bit of needling is what the WSO needs to find his backbone.

“Well” he drawls, shoving himself up from the table with a nod in your direction, “You won’t mind if I shoot my shot then. She looks good enough to eat tonight and I for one am starving.” Payback and Rooster both audibly cringe, they know he’s laying it on thick and you’d never give him the time of day, but Bob doesn’t. At least not for sure. In fact he looks rather green around the ears now, slightly panicked that the small chance he had deluded himself into thinking he had is vaporizing the second Hangman saunters over to the open bar. Rooster shoots him a sympathetic glance, poor kid needs to just bite the bullet he thinks but he can’t help but be mildly amused at the shitstorm that Hangman is about to start.

You’re almost relieved to see him honestly, you and Jake have always been good friends, both being from the south and having a deep appreciation for college football. If you have to listen to Yale drone on about his stupid deep sea fishing trip while he tries to cop a feel for much longer you might break one of his fingers. Maybe all of them.

“Hangman!” You usher him over, scooting him between you and Yale’s unwanted touches, all too grateful for the intrusion.

Yale looks over at Jake, annoyed and about to open his mouth but Jake waves him off like a pesky fly and he excuses himself, probably off to find his next victim, knows better than to even attempt an argument with Hangman.

“Oh my God thank you, I thought he’d never leave me alone! I can only be nice for so long and I was just about ready to tell him to fuck off.”

“Manners little lady, for someone who looks like a princess this evening you sure do have a mouth on you,” he throws his head back and laughs at your discomfort, he knows you aren’t at ease in this setting at all, calling the bartender over to get you another jack and coke.

“So tell me Y/N, when are you gonna let baby on board off the hook and tell him you’re ready to go steady with him?”

You sputter out a gasp as you accidentally inhale a little of your drink, quick to clear your throat and throw daggers up at Hangman with your stare.

“First of all, you know I can’t stand it when you make fun of him, second of all how much have you had to drink tonight? I think you might have hit your limit if you think Bob is even remotely interested in me.”

He just pats you on the hand now, almost condescendingly.

“Wanna make a wager on that? Because I guarantee you sugar, Glasses over there is head over boots and I bet I can make him just jealous enough to finally admit that he’s got the hots for you.”

You link your arm in his and pivot him towards the dance floor. “Fine, you’ve got a deal, and when I prove you wrong you have to wear an Alabama jersey at the Hard Deck next weekend and tell everyone Roll Tide!” You erupt into giggles at Jake’s look of disgust, but a deal is a deal and he’s nothing if not a gentleman.

Meanwhile Bob is feeling more and more off kilter, he knows he needs to just get out of his damn head and cross whatever line he’s drawn in the sand that keeps him from telling you how he feels. He’s so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice Phoenix plopping down into the vacant seat next to him.

“Uh hello? Earth to Bob?” She waves a hand over his face to snap him out of whatever trance he looks like he’s in.

“What? Huh? Oh I’m sorry Nat, I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight, I don’t feel like myself at all.” He looks absolutely miserable as he watches Jake escort you to the dance floor encircling you in his arms.

Her face softens as she looks at her WSO, knows exactly what’s got him in such a funk.

“Could it have something to do with the fact that Y/N looks like a million bucks tonight and you are coming out of your skin having to watch every guy in here try to get her to go out with them?”

His eyes go wide at her response and he feels his skin heat up and stomach lurch just thinking about someone else being with you the way he wants.

“I-I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

“I think you do, and if you were honest with yourself you’d just admit it.”

He sighs, running his hand over his face and looking up towards the dance floor, where you and Hangman are still swaying to the music, his hands dangerously low at your waist. Bob has to look away, sickly feeling in his stomach rearing its ugly head again.

Rooster leans in, he spent most of the night trying to stay out of it but it looks like his friend could use the encouragement. Sliding a shot of tequila in front of the WSO he claps him on the shoulder.

“Bob, life is too damn short. You gonna sit here all night and mope or go get your girl?”

Bob tries to anchor himself for a moment, slings the shot back, liquid courage burning through his veins as he pushes back from the table. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to let you know how he feels, if you shoot him down then that’s that. But he can’t take one more minute watching someone else get all your attention.

“Atta boy Bobby!” Phoenix crows as she and Rooster watch him weave through the crowd to you.

Jake is being very handsy, and while you’d given him permission to play things up for the bit you were losing hope fast that this would actually work. You should have never agreed to this, you knew it wasn’t true that Bob was into you; you’d all but thrown yourself at him more times than you could count and the soft spoken man had just written it off as you being an affectionate friend. Jake’s got his lips pressed right above your ear now, assuring you it won’t be much longer judging by the glare he gotten the last time he glanced at their table. The two of you sway to whatever song the dj is playing, you’re feeling so stupid now for this little stunt, as you open your mouth to tell Jake it’s time to give up the act you feel strong hands plucking you from his arms. You gasp as you are suddenly spun around, face to face with Bob. Jake blends back into the crowd with a chuckle, mission accomplished.

“Ohmygosh, wha- oh Robby hey! What’s going on? You ok?” You’re scanning his features now, he’s causally moved you both to the edge of the dance floor now, still swaying to the song and to anyone else it would look like he seamlessly cut in to dance with his friend, not at all the reality of the situation at hand, far more tense and out of character.

He’s looking down into your face now, something stormy in his features as he pulls you closer to him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I know that was rude but I just- I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“Couldn’t stand what Robby? what’s going on? You’re starting to worry me a little.”

He looks so on edge, it hurts your heart to know something’s troubling him so you squeeze his arm that’s around your waist, giving him the encouragement to go on.

“Can-can we go outside and talk? I promise I’m not trying to get out of it I just don’t want to do this here.”

You nod and take his hand, letting him lead you from the ballroom and out into the courtyard of the fancy hotel the gala was being held.

The second you hit the open air his body is pressed to yours, running his hand through your hair at the base of your neck to pull your faces together, rubbing his nose gently against yours.

“I need you to tell me this is all in my head” he gasps, eyes wild, “I would die if I ever made you feel uncomfortable but God- I gotta know if you feel the same way Y/N, I don’t think I can keep going like this anymore. Everyone keeps telling me that you feel the same but I can’t- I can’t…” he shakes his head trying to get his thoughts together, anxiety pooling in his stomach at the thought that this is going wrong.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling him so close with his hands running over your sides and his lips against yours is like heaven, it makes it downright impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence. So you opt for showing him rather than telling, gripping his bicep with one hand and stroking his jaw with the other, you lean up and press your lips to his, first one, then two soft kisses. He groans into your mouth now, a noise so delicious you need him to do it again immediately.

The damn breaks and it’s like a wildfire now, hands roaming everywhere mouths panting hot open filthy kisses as his tongue slides in to massage yours. The only thought in your head is his name, Robby Robby Robby. Making out like a bunch of teenagers grinding up against each other in the dark, you feel him slide his thigh between your legs into the side slit of your dress, just a taste of the friction you need but not nearly enough. You know you ought to stop, anyone could walk out and catch you but it’s just oh so good. You could slap yourself for taking this long to have him like this, cursing all the nights you went home to your toys thinking of him when you could have been doing this all along.

Reluctantly you pull back and take a deep gasping breath, chests heaving and fighting for air. You grin up at him now, and he flashes you a crooked smile that turns your limbs to jelly.

“If I had known all I had to do was get you a little bit jealous to finally make a move I have to admit I would have done that a hell of a lot sooner.”

He guffaws at that, looks so much more at ease, the sound one of the best things you’ve ever heard. “Darlin’ all it took was you in this dress to turn me into putty in your little hands, I’ve been a downright fool for waiting this long. I’m so stupidly in love with you.”

His words warm you from the inside out, and you press soft kisses to his neck, whispering into his skin-

“I love you so much Robby, always have.”

You two stumble back into the ballroom a little worse for wear and make a beeline for your table so you can grab your stuff. Everyone on the team takes the two of you in, flushed cheeks and mussed up hair, Bob’s got lipstick smeared on his chin near his lips and you don’t feel a bit embarrassed by the shocked looks you are given as you swiftly snatch your purse up and bid everyone goodbye, bubbly giggles erupting from you as Bob swats at your backside trying to get you to hurry up and get to his truck. He’s the only one taking you home tonight and if he has anything to say about it every night for the foreseeable future.

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The line between the two of you is non existent now, you are trying your best to let him be a safe driver but Jesus H Christ you just want him everywhere.

He can tell you are literally buzzing with need, shaky hands pawing at his thigh and abs while leaning across the console to suck a mark next to his Adam’s apple. He’s trying his damndest to not pull over on the side of the highway and take you right here, but he wants this to be perfect. Just as your hand goes to slide between his legs he snatches both wrists up in one of his giant hands. You look at him with shock covering your features, he didn’t even look away from the road as he swatted your hands and placed them in your lap. His voice is deeper than normal, eyes still laser focused on the road in front of him. Man’s a stealth pilot after all.

“Sweetheart I need you to keep those pretty hands to yourself, I’m not fucking you in the front seat of the truck for our first time. We gotta do this right ok sugar? Just be patient a little longer.”

Oh. OH. You can confidently say you’ve never been more turned on in your entire life.

Finally, mercifully after what seems like a million years (it was the longest 5 minutes of your life), you pull up to your little beach condo. Stepping out of the truck on shaky legs into his waiting arms is a feat, you’ve never needed someone so badly in your life. He holds you close, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses the top of your head.

“We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t want to baby-“ there he is, suddenly your shy unsure boy, no need to second guess himself but always worrying about others.

You wish you could be bothered to be embarrassed for the way you all but launched yourself at him, fingers carding through his hair to grip at the short ends at the base, sliding your tongue into his mouth and begging him to take you to bed.

It was all he needed to flip the switch, ushering you into your house, the moment the door is shut he presses you into the door, nimble fingers working at the zipper on the back of your dress while he presses sloppy kisses to your chest. The dress pools at your feet and he pulls in air through his nose and moans at the realization that underneath your gown you were only wearing what he would consider the smallest piece of fabric known to mankind and calling it underwear. You are convinced the room is spinning, heat rising up your body as you clumsily work in tandem with him to rid him of his own clothes, tossing the jacket of his dress whites on your couch as you begin to move him forward to your bedroom.

He grips the sides of your thighs and tells you to jump into his arms, blindly going down the hall until he stops right at the edge of your bed.

Letting you slide down his body you immediately hit your knees, making quick work of his belt buckle, he looks almost dazed now, leans his hand down to tilt your face to him, deep blue eyes roaming over your exposed skin.

“My sweet girl, look at you. Such a pretty little thing, you gonna let me have your mouth?” He drawls, his accent thicker than normal and you have to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about what’s to come.

You melt into his touch, fingers dancing along the edge of his boxers, and nod your head. You lean in to nuzzle your face into him, hot and heavy against your cheek and revel in the noises he makes above you.

You decide you don’t have it in you to tease him tonight, it’s been such a long time coming and you’d be lying if you haven’t come undone in the quiet of your room thinking about this exact moment. You rake your nails down his abs, make quick work to rid him of his pants and underwear, realizing very quickly that the locker room talk the boys have engaged in isn’t just talk. He’s definitely got plenty to brag about, but you had always thought the guys were just teasing him when they said he was huge.

You wrap your fingers around him now, looking back up at him as you lean in to swirl your tongue over his tip. Sliding his hand up into your hair he winds it around his hand a little and pulls you forward, you immediately open your mouth fully to take more of him, tongue flattening and letting him take what he wants from you. You know he’d never hurt you, that’s the thing about your line of work, you have to have complete trust in each other to keep your team safe. This though, letting him have complete control and telling him you love him through your actions; it’s like a promise.

He continues shallowly thrusting into your mouth, grunting filthy praises, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you are to him. He pulls back just when it becomes too much and kneels to scoop you up in his arms, laying you gently on the bed just taking you in. He still can’t quite believe that this is really happening, convinced he’ll wake up any second now. You make grabby hands at him now and he huffs out a laugh, crawling up the bed into your arms as you pull him on top of you.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone this much, sex with other partners has almost always been about the other person, usually with you faking it and taking care of yourself later. Having him this way is like a drug, you know all the fantasies you’ve concocted have nothing on just how good he feels. You try to push yourself into him, let him know you want him to take you but he stills your movements. You let out a whine, looking up at him with pouty lips and he kisses it away with a smile. “I don’t know how you’ve been doing this in the past but baby I’ve got my own set of rules here. Now I’ll give you what you want, I promise but you gotta let me get you ready first. You gotta let me taste ya and cum for me and then you can have my cock, can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You blink at him, jaw going slack, completely blown away. You’re pretty sure you are wetter than the pacific and he hasn’t even really touched you yet. This man is going to be the death of you for sure.

You grasp his face and moan into his mouth as you kiss him deeply, nipping at his lower lip to elicit more noises from him. Pulling you back a little he rubs his nose with yours and gives you a quick wink before making his descent down your body, pink tongue pokes out to lave at your sternum while he massages your breasts in his hands. “You are so perfect everywhere baby but God these tits…I could stay right here all day if you’d let me.” He pulls a nipple between his teeth and you nearly jolt off the bed, grinding yourself down onto his thigh as he continues his torture. “Robby” you gasp, fighting for air and purchase on the bed, tangling your fingers in the sheets as you continue to buck up onto his leg. He pulls back and quirks an eyebrow at you, clearly amused at just how needy you’ve become for him already. “What is it baby girl? Use your words, tell me what you want.”

“I need- I need your mouth on me, please I want it so bad Robby” you babble at him, you can’t even bother to be ashamed at how ridiculous you probably sound, somewhere deep in your mind you know he’s probably eating it up, smug bastard.

He shushes you and runs his hands over your breasts and stomach, slides down to the apex of your thighs and spreads them wide. “I’ve got you sugar, I’ve got ya.” And finally, blessedly he dives in, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harshly. You arch yourself up into his face, gasping roughly as you reach down to grip his hair, attempting to close your legs around him but he holds you down, eating at you like it’s his last meal.

Moans vibrating directly into your pussy and you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or to it, but Jesus if you’d known he could talk dirty and eat pussy like this you might not have waited so long to make him yours. He’s sliding his ring and middle finger inside of you now, and oh if this is how good it feels from his fingers you might die when you finally get him inside you. The noises bouncing off your bedroom walls are obscene, moans coming from you both and the lewd wet smacks from his lips and tongue.

“Doin’ so good for me love, taste so damn sweet” he rasps and begins to crook his fingers into that place you can never seem to quite reach yourself and suddenly you’re right there, orgasm takes you before you can even warn him, thrashing your head back and forth as you keen high in your throat and you swear you nearly black out from the euphoria. He continues fucking you with his fingers through your high, massaging your calf with his other hand. You finally come down from the haze and lean up on your elbows, grabbing his shoulders to pull him up and kiss him.

You look at him through your lashes, admiring how pretty he is. He seems to feel your gaze, cheeks and ears turning pink and you can’t help how your heart feels like it might burst at how happy you are. You lay like that for a few minutes, just kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other but you can tell Bob is more than ready for you now, pressed up against your thigh hot and heavy. You press a few kisses to the freckles scattering his cheeks before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. “I was a good girl for you Robby, want you to fuck me now baby. Need you so badly, make me yours my love”

And you know exactly what you’re doing to him, he grips your hip tightly and you see the cracks in his composure, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger he licks into your mouth turning you into a moaning mess all over again. You reach between your bodies to stroke him and he pulls back from your lips leaving you a whining mess.

“Ok, ok baby girl I know it, I’m gonna give it to you.” You give a sigh of relief reaching to pull a condom out of your nightstand, ripping the package open and rolling it down his length.

He hovers over you now, lips ghosting over yours as he slowly eases himself into your heat. You gasp as he enters you, body trembling at the sensation and grip his biceps, nails digging in sure to leave a bruise tomorrow but neither of you can be bothered to care. The stretch is so good, so so good and you feel like you might come apart again just from this. A string of curses fall from his lips and he begins to grind slowly into you, pubic bone grazing your clit with each thrust of his hips into yours.

“Oh Robby, oh baby I love you s’good baby so good, just like that” you moan into his neck and he knows you’re getting close again already, so turned on for him that you know he’s already ruined you for anyone else.

“So pretty sugar, look at you taking me so well, God I just want you like this all the time, been dreaming of fucking you like this for so long, better than I ever imagined, gonna give you everything baby God I fucking love you” He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his life, as ruined as you think you are he may just be worse.

You preen under his praise, clearly didn’t realize until just now how much it turned you on but the way you're clenching around him gives you away.

“You like when I tell you how good you are don’t you baby? Can feel how much you like it sweet girl, think you can give me another one darlin’? Want to see you make a mess all over my cock, come on beautiful girl you can do it” he coos at you as he reaches down to rub his thumb over your swollen bud, one, two, three swipes and you’re crying out, clamping down on him and cumming harder than you have in your entire life. He’s fucking you through it, letting you buck up into him and take what you need until you fall back weakly against the pillows, sucking in air in deep gulps as you try to come down. He doesn’t let you though, begins fucking you in earnest now, hips slapping into the back of your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, pulls your feet up over his shoulders and slams into you relentlessly. All you can do is just take it now, pleasure rolling off of you in waves as you cry out and you know you’re already close again.

“You got one more in you angel? Want ya to come with me this time ok? You’re so fucking good baby so good for me, pussy is so perfect like it was made to take me” he’s not even sure what he’s saying anymore just completely lost in how good it feels and how much he needs you to cum with him.

“M’ close baby, want us to go together too please please please, oh oh God!” you call out, and you know he’s on the edge too, once again gliding your slick over your clit to get you there and he’s leaning in to press his mouth to yours as you both come together, a mess of teeth and tongue clashing and it’s everything, deep guttural moans pouring from his mouth the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard. He runs his hands through your hair and presses kisses to your sweaty forehead, slowly pulling out of you to toss the condom and you whine at the loss of him.

“I’m not going anywhere baby, just give me a second so I can clean you up and I’ll be right back.”

You lay there dazed, somewhere between asleep and alert and he’s back, wiping you down gently and crawling back into bed to hold you.

Just as you both begin to doze off you press a kiss to his arm, whispering I love yous as you succumb to sleep. He’s not typically a jealous man but if the green eyed monster got you in his arms and in his bed maybe being a little jealous from time to time ain’t so bad.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Tagging-

@attapullman

@mamachasesmayhem

@bobgasm

@roosterforme

@purelyfiction

@pinkdaisies1106

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #top gun bob #robert bob floyd x reader #international bob floyd fucks month #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

Text

i'm with the band (part 1)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female!Reader & Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader (final pairing to be revealed at the end...) Word count: 7.6k CW: Use of Y/N; reader wears Dr Martens, but that's the only specific detail.

You discover that your best friend Bob can play the drums, and since you have some musical gifts of your own, you decide to start a navy band. It's supposed to be a bit of harmless fun, but what happens when lines get blurred between you and Bob, feelings come to the surface, and a certain Rooster gets jealous?

This is a multi-part fic. Part two

‘If I’d known you could play the drums like that,’ you said, looping your arm through Bob’s. ‘I’d have suggested starting a band months ago!’

As the two of you walked across the near-empty runway, you mourned all the time you’d wasted already and wondered how soon you could get a move on with your idea. Bob was smiling shyly, eyes fixed firmly on the tarmac. You knew he didn’t think he drummed well enough to be in a band. You also knew he had a habit of being too hard on himself.

It was pure chance that had led you to discover Bob’s affinity for music. You’d been standing outside the front door of his house with a box of doughnuts in your hand, ready to surprise your friend, when you’d frozen.

Somebody was drumming—drumming well.

It sounded perfect, not just messy noise and missed beats, and it was coming from Bob’s small garage. Resolutely, you’d hurried back down the stairs that led up to the red front door and crept across the well-kept lawn. Once you’d safely hidden behind a fern closer to the garage, you’d realised that a backing track was playing over a speaker, which Bob was drumming to. It was a Catfish and the Bottlemen song—one of his favourite bands. Even now—days later—you still weren’t over it; how your heartbeat had fallen in time with Bob’s drumming and how alive it had made you feel.

And then there was the small matter of how good he’d looked doing it.

Bob Floyd had been your closest friend in San Diego since you were first called back to TOPGUN many moons ago. Both of you were Weapons Systems Officers; this similarity was the gravitational force that had pulled you together, but how much you had in common kept you that way. With this being said, you were having a hard time justifying your body’s reaction when you peeked around the fern and into the garage that day. He was wearing a white t-shirt, the front of which was soaked with sweat, his hair was uncharacteristically mussed, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

Eventually, you’d decided to announce yourself, but not before heavily debating whether or not you should just take yourself home and have a cold shower. In the days since, your brain had habitually dredged your unholy thoughts up from the dark corner you’d haphazardly shoved them into. The veins in his hands and forearms, the way his biceps moved when he hit the drums, the furrow of his sweat-slicked brow, his messy hair… It was too much.

The two of you were nearing the changing rooms, where you’d go separate ways to shower and change. You knew if you let the idea of starting a band drop again, that would be it. Bob would have to give in eventually, so long as you were persistent.

‘You’re so talented, Bobby.’ You said. ‘I can play guitar, and I’m an alright singer. We’d only need to find a bass player and a lead guitarist.’

Bob scoffed. ‘You’re more than alright, Y/CS. Now who’s the one putting themselves down?’

Your face heated up, and for once, you were glad that Bob struggled to maintain eye contact.

‘Well, thank you.’ You murmured.

Momentarily disarmed, you walked a few paces in companionable silence. Surprisingly, Bob was the one to break it.

‘I’m not saying no,’ he told you. ‘I’m just not thrilled at the idea of people hearing me play. I didn’t even tell you that I could.’

‘And that’s saying something,’ you grumbled. ‘Okay, let’s shelve it for now. What do you say we go out for drinks tonight, and we can brainstorm.’

Luckily, Bob wasn’t in the habit of saying no to his best friend.

He probably couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Summer was winding down, and although it was never freezing in San Diego, the evenings were beginning to get chillier. As you approached The Hard Deck and saw Bob sitting outside waiting, you were glad you’d decided to wear a jacket.

He sat with his back to the bar, looking out over the sand and the ocean beyond it. The fiery sunset made it seem like the beach was doused with honey, and you were momentarily reminded why you loved your station so much. You didn’t want to startle Bob, who was—let’s face it—easily startled, so you walked around the car park and up the decking instead of going up behind him. He watched you close the short distance from the edge of the seating area to the table with an easy smile on his face.

That’s how it always was with you and Bob. Easy.

‘I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.’ He said as you took the seat opposite him.

‘Sorry. I was gonna drive, but then I decided it was too nice, and I didn’t know if we’d drink much.’

‘I never drink much.’

You reached over and ruffled his perfect hair. ‘I know, Bobby, but there’s a first time for everything.’

A Peroni was already waiting for you, and Bob was nursing an ice-cold Corona Light. He probably wouldn’t drink more than two tonight since it was a work night. Then again, he remained his sensible self on the weekends too. Jake and Bradley had tried countless times to get him to ‘let loose,’ and you’d backed Bob up every single time, telling them firmly that not everybody needed to get shit-faced to have a good time. Jake usually responded with some variation of ‘you don’t need a car to get places either, darlin’, but it sure helps.’

You took a sip of your pint, glad to find it had a dash of lime. Bob never forgot anything, least of all your drink order.

‘So,’ you grinned devilishly. ‘The band.’

The corner of his lips twitched as he fought a smile. ‘There is no band.’

‘There is no band yet. I plan on changing that. I think we should make a poster to put up around base. There’s a notice board in the female changing rooms, so I’m assuming there’s one in yours, too. We could also put a few up in the barracks.’

Even though Bob seemingly didn’t want to start this band, he suggested asking Penny’s permission to put some in both bathrooms in The Hard Deck as well.

‘While we’re at it, we could put a few up around town,’ you added. ‘Unless we want this to be a navy-only band.’

Bob pushed his glasses up his nose and sipped his beer. You knew him well, including all his mannerisms and facial expressions. He was antsy and had the look he always had when Jake or Javy tried to extort personal information from him, like if he’d slept with anyone lately.

‘There’s something you don’t wanna tell me.’ You stated.

‘No, there isn’t.’ He tried to insist, but his heart wasn’t in it.

‘Look, Bobby. We don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. I’ll drop it now and never speak of it again.’ For whatever reason, you found yourself reaching out and taking his hand. It was cold from gripping his beer bottle. ‘But before you say yes to that with what I’m sure will be a massive amount of relief, I want you to know that you’re mega-talented. It’s not just a case of me thinking it—it’s an undeniable fact. If we find some decent bandmates and give this our all, we could have a lot of fun.’

Bob’s eyes were boring holes into the wooden picnic table. ‘I know we’d have fun, but would we have to play in front of people?’

‘If you really didn’t want to, we wouldn’t. But we’ve gotta find two more members and see if we can all work together before we even start thinking about that kind of thing.’ You squeezed his hand reassuringly. ‘It’s just a bit of harmless fun. What do you say?’

He met your eyes and smiled sheepishly. ‘Okay, fine.’

‘Yay!’ You shouted, practically jumping out of your seat to run around and hug him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and leaned down so your face was next to his. After the initial shock had worn off, he reached up and put his hands over your forearms. It was the most awkward hug ever, but it was the best the two of you could do at such short notice.

‘I’ll start working on the posters tomorrow when I get home.’

Bradley knew that you and Bob were close, and he understood why. You were both WSOs, both loved music, and you were both quiet. When the group was overly drunk or rowdy, or the conversation ended up in territories neither of you was comfortable with, you retreated into your own private world. Bradley had seen it happen more than enough times: the way you eased each other’s anxiety just by sitting close together, the knowing looks you shared when one of the daggers did something predictable, the inside jokes and references you made that left everyone else feeling like they were on the outside of something.

It was hard to ignore.

Bradley wasn’t as unruly as Mickey or as daring as Jake and Javy. He wasn’t as stern and fierce as Natasha and didn’t ramble about sports when drunk like Reuben. But he wasn’t a wallflower like you or Bob, either. He was something else entirely.

Bradley prided himself on his ability to fit in anywhere. He could talk to almost anyone about anything, but still, he felt something was missing. He didn’t have one specific person he thought he was in tandem with. At first, he liked it. When he was young, he thought it meant he was just a social butterfly, able to jump from group to group and fit into them all. As he got older, he felt out of step, like one of his legs was longer than the other.

He wanted to find his person. The one he could sit with at the bar and judge everyone else with. The one he could communicate with through a single facial expression or private joke—whose mere presence would comfort him.

Bradley was sitting inside with the rest of the daggers. They were only having a quiet few, then heading home. Natasha was thrashing Mickey at pool, and Jake was attempting to show Javy how he managed to get a bullseye almost every time in darts. Bradley and Reuben sat at a high table nearby, chatting about this and that. They were next to the window that looked out across the outdoor seating area, and Bradley had been glancing at you and Bob all evening. At first, he’d been waiting for you to wrap things up and come and join in. Then, when you came in to get another drink before heading back outside, he wondered if something had happened. Maybe it was something you didn’t want to talk to the rest of the daggers about. He watched as closely as he could without making it evident to the rest of his friends. Natasha was already convinced he had a thing for you—he didn’t feel like adding fuel to that particular fire today, thank you very much.

Judging by the way you were talking exciting with your hands, he knew the two of you weren’t talking about something bad. Then, he saw you run around the table and hug Bob, and he wondered if he’d gotten this totally wrong. The whole group, aside from him and Natasha, were convinced that you and Bob were more than best friends. Jake and Javy teased you incessantly, and he was pretty sure that Mickey had started the bet on base as to how long it would take for the two of you to admit your feelings for one another. Bradley had ten bucks on this never happening because he was very close with Nat who was very close with you, and you always reassured her that you and Bob weren’t a thing. Bradley wasn’t a girl, but he understood that if you were lying, Natasha would know. Girlfriends always know when their girlfriends are lying, especially regarding guys.

So Bradley was confused. He’d never seen you and Bob hug before, and you’d never spent a whole evening separate from the group, knowing said group was ten feet away. Something was going on, and Bradley was desperate to know what. Part of him wanted to take this to Natasha for a second opinion, but she would only accuse him of jealousy.

Maybe he was jealous, but he didn’t need his best friend telling him that. How could he not be jealous when you looked, walked, and talked like that? When were you so intelligent, caring, and mindful of other people’s feelings? When you sang with him at the piano some nights, music coursing through your veins the same way it coursed through his?

Bradley had always known that you and Bob were close. He understood why. But just because he understood why didn’t mean he had to be okay with it.

Bob was working out in the gym on base when you cornered him the next day. It had been a slow morning and an even slower afternoon, which was welcomed after almost a fortnight of incessant training courses. He was lifting weights with his headphones on when he felt a presence at the bottom of the bench. He finished his reps, lifted the barbell back onto its stand and sat up. You were standing with a stack of papers in your hands and a face that meant business, and you were saying something Bob couldn’t hear. He removed his headphones, just about catching the back end of your sentence.

‘—so all you need to do is put one in the guy’s changing rooms and stalls. Mav is taking some to Penny’s tonight.’

This was all happening very fast.

‘I thought you were making posters tonight after work.’ He said, scratching the back of his head.

‘I was, but I couldn’t sleep when I got home ‘cause I was too excited.’

It pleased Bob to see you so joyful and filled with passion. There was nothing he loved more. But he couldn’t help but feel strange about the whole band thing. You were never supposed to find out that he could drum, mainly because he didn’t think he was that great at it. He was embarrassed that you’d seen him so unfiltered, and in a way, it made him feel vulnerable. The prospect of other people seeing him in the same way made him more than a little nervous. On a daily basis, he blended into the background. The only person he stood out to most of the time was you; he liked it that way. He didn’t want to stand out to anyone else; he didn’t want anyone’s eyes on him.

But he had to admit that making music with you did seem appealing. The two things he loved most in the world come together as one. If the band ended up being as good as you wanted it to be and you managed to score some gigs, he would find a way to be okay with it.

Anything to keep that smile on your face.

‘You wanna come over later?’ Bob asked. ‘We could order dinner, maybe try out a few songs. I haven’t heard you sing in a while, and you’ve never played your guitar for me.’

You flushed scarlet, and Bob wondered if you were just as shy when playing for people as he was. You hid it better than he did, like everything else.

‘That’d be nice. We can start thinking about a setlist.’

‘I think we need to find some bandmates before we make a setlist.’

‘It doesn’t hurt to have some ideas for when we finally meet aforementioned bandmates,’ you said optimistically. ‘I think they’ll find our eagerness enticing.’

Bob couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You’re perfect, you know that?’

He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so it was somehow easier to keep eye contact. Like being half-blind made him more confident. He supposed if he couldn’t see your reactions clearly, he wouldn’t have to worry about what he said as much.

‘Well, so are you.’ You replied timidly.

‘My place at seven?’

‘It’s a date.’

Bob was only half blind, not totally. He saw your whole demeanour change when you realised what you’d said.

‘N-not a date,’ you stammered. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

He smiled. ‘It’s okay, I know what you meant.’

‘Okay,’ you breathed. ‘Your place at seven.’

Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and you looked everywhere but at him, but he thought you were adorable.

By seven-thirty, you were scarfing egg rolls at your best friend’s place. It was his turn to pick the takeout, and he’d chosen Chinese. Your laptop was on your knee, and you were going through your ‘Songs That Would Wake Me From a Coma’ playlist, explaining to Bob what you loved about each one. He had a similar playlist, and whenever you played something that was also on his, the smile on his face got larger. He’d been smiling at you all day, and you could scarcely believe he’d been on the fence about starting a band together. He didn’t seem nervous now, and the two of you had fallen into your usual, easy rhythm.

After dinner, Bob helped you get your guitar and amp from your car. You had a black Fender Dreadnought for playing acoustic, but since you’d be playing electric in the band, you brought your Gretsch. It was the same guitar Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy played, and it was your pride and joy.

Bob’s garage was perfect for band rehearsals. He left his car on the drive and used the garage as his music room since his house was relatively small. This was how he’d managed to hide his talent from you for so long. What reason would you have to go in his garage?

It was soundproofed since drumming was hands down the nosiest hobby a person could have, and he’d outfitted the place with creature comforts: a mini fridge for sodas and snacks, a small leather couch with blankets and pillows, framed band posters on the walls, a tasteful rug, and, of course, his drum kit. You’d never played, but it didn’t take a genius to know that it must have cost a pretty penny. You could tell that Bob took good care of it, too.

‘Bobby, this is going to be perfect. We’ll be able to practise here.’

‘We’ll probably have to get some more kit. Mics, some more amps. Pedals.’

‘Any guitarist worth their salt will already have that kinda stuff. I have tonnes of shit in my lockup. Haven’t got a mic or a stand, though.’

‘We can cross that bridge when we come to it.’

‘We’ve been saying that a lot lately,’ you grinned. ‘There’s a lot of bridges in our future.’

You got comfy on the couch, and Bob perched himself on the stool behind his drum kit. He watched as you expertly tuned your guitar, fingers moving over the pegs with the kind of surety that only came with doing something a million times.

‘What shall I play?’ You asked.

‘Play me your go-to when you’re just playing for yourself.’

Since you always played for yourself, you had no shortage of options. But you settled on your favourite: the solo from Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch. It was short but tricky and had taken you months to perfect. Maybe you were showing off, but you were proud that you could play it, and you’d be damned if Bob’s shocked expression wasn’t worth it.

When you were finished, he stood up and gave you a round of applause. You had no idea what to feel. Embarrassment or pride? A mixture of both?

‘Damn,’ Bob breathed. ‘That was insane. You’re a total rockstar, Y/CS.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ you chuckled. ‘But thank you. It took me so long to learn how to play that.’ ‘That’s like me and Psychosocial.’

You raised a brow. ‘Slipknot?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I didn’t take you for a Slipknot kinda guy, Bobby.’

‘I listen to a few of their songs,’ he explained. ‘But it’s more that they’re really fun to play.’

You gestured to his drum kit. ‘Well, go on then.’

‘No way,’ Bob shook his head. ‘I’ll screw it up in front of you.’

‘Please?’ You pouted.

So you spent the next few hours taking turns playing parts of songs you knew, bonding over your shared favourites and introducing one another to new music. You were going to stop for the night, but then you discovered that Bob knew how to play some of the same songs as you, and you started playing together.

You were the one who suggested starting a navy band—you knew it would be entertaining—but playing with Bob like this… There were no words to describe how incredible it felt.

It was Reuben’s idea to go out for dinner that Saturday night, but now that day had finally arrived, Bradley regretted saying yes. It had been pouring rain all day, putting a pin in his plans to swim at the beach. Then, his dryer—which was second-hand and had always been temperamental at best—had finally packed up, with his soaking wet uniform for Monday still inside. The last thing he wanted to do was get himself ready and drive halfway across town to Little Italy, but every excuse he typed out to the group chat sounded meagre and childish. He ended up deleting them and getting himself in the shower, hoping that going out with his closest friends would lift his mood, even though he couldn’t be bothered to leave his house.

Autumn was quickly closing in, and Bradley was glad he had a reason to wear his favourite jacket again— a vintage, fleece-lined Levi number covered in patches that had belonged to his dad. He took it from his wardrobe and laid it on his bed, along with a pair of black jeans, a Smiths t-shirt and his Chelsea boots. The day he’d bought—or rather, been forced to buy—those boots was still fresh in his memory. It wasn’t long after you’d all been called back to TOPGUN for the special detachment. In fact, it was only a few days after the daggers had received the news that they’d be staying in San Diego permanently. It was a day not unlike this one, and he’d been at the mall looking for a suit to wear to a wedding he was flying home for. He rounded a corner on his way to Starbucks into a head-on collision with you. He hadn’t known you long, only since that first night in The Hard Deck when everyone either reunited with old friends or made new ones.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ you gasped. ‘What an idiot, I’m so clumsy.’

Your shopping bags had fallen to the floor, and you were scrambling to pick them up, not having realised who you’d just bumped into. Bradley was so caught up admiring you in your long-sleeve dress and boots that he forgot his manners. He’d never seen you out of uniform and suddenly felt very cheated.

You were gorgeous.

‘No, it’s my fault,’ he insisted, crouching down to help you gather your things. ‘Sorry, Y/CS.’

Your head snapped up, and you met his gaze, a shy smile taking hold of your delicate features. ‘Rooster,’ you breathed. ‘How didn’t I know that was you?’

The two of you stood up at the same time, almost bumping heads. ‘Beats me,’ he chuckled. I’m big enough to see.’

Your laugh was a little more on the awkward side, and he briefly wondered if you’d missed his sarcasm.

‘Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,’ you’d said toyingly. ‘Callsign: Beanpole.’

Until now, Bradley hadn’t thought you capable of a jibe like that. You were quiet at work, only speaking when necessary, as though you believed that if you didn’t have anything to add to the conversation, it wasn’t worth speaking at all. The most he’d seen you speak was with Bob about work, and with Coyote, since you were his backseater.

He was sure his laughter echoed through the entire shopping centre.

‘You shopping for anything in particular?’ He asked, desperate to keep the conversation going and that smile on your pretty face.

‘New boots,’ you replied. ‘Dr Martens have brought out their new Fall collection.’

Bradley glanced at the boots you were wearing and realised he’d just learned a little something about Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N. ‘I just bought a new suit,’ he told you. ‘I could use a nice new pair of shoes to go with it if you’d like some company.’

‘Well, sure. I don’t see why not.’ You blinked, taken aback.

Bradley couldn’t understand why you were surprised that he wanted to spend time with you. Before heading to the Dr Martens store, the two of you stopped at Starbucks. He explained that he was initially heading there before he so rudely knocked into you and asked if he could buy you a coffee by way of apology. You’d told him he didn’t need to apologise but accepted the coffee anyway.

‘I’ll have an iced white mocha, please. If you’re sure.’ you told him politely.

‘An iced white mocha,’ he echoed. ‘Sounds fancy.’

‘What do you normally order?’

‘Usually just a flat white.’ The disgust on your face as you glared up at him had him laughing all over again. ‘What’s that face for?’

‘You don’t go to Starbucks and order a flat white!’ You exclaimed. ‘That’s like going to a strip club and chatting up the security guard.’

Bradley guffawed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this much. And he couldn’t believe that your quiet and composed self was the cause of it.

‘What should I get instead, then?’ He asked. ‘Since you’re such an expert.’

‘Do you like iced drinks?’

‘Of course.’

You thought for a moment. ‘What about caramel?’

‘Yup.’

‘Then you should try an iced caramel macchiato.’

Nobody had been waiting behind you when you came into the store. Now, four people were waiting behind you and Bradley. The server had been trying to get your attention for a while, and someone tsked impatiently.

‘An iced white mocha for Y/CS here, and I’ll take an iced caramel mach- machi… whatever she just said.’

‘Macchiato,’ you corrected. ‘It’s macchiato.’

Bradley gently nudged you with his elbow. ‘It’s leviOsa, not leviosA.’

It was your turn to nearly pee your pants from laughing.

‘Can I get a name, please?’ The server asked frustratedly.

‘Beanpole.’ Bradley smirked.

You were still giggling like a couple of school kids when you got to the Dr Martens store. You already knew which boots you wanted, so you only had to ask the shop assistant to fetch your size. While you waited, you browsed the men’s section with Bradley, pointing out styles you thought might suit him.

‘Wait!’ You exclaimed. ‘I know exactly which pair would look the best on you.’

Your excitement enamoured him; he probably would have bought anything you handed him to make you happy. It was a stroke of luck that the shoe you gave him was decent, something he probably would have picked for himself: a pair of black Chelsea boots, subtle but sexy with their thick soles and shiny leather. He’d never imagined himself in a pair of docs before, but he could undoubtedly imagine himself in these. When the clerk returned with your shoes, he asked if she wouldn’t mind fetching a size 12 of the ‘edgy-looking Chelsea boots.’ She’d smiled at his description, and so had you.

‘Let’s just hope I can pull them off as well as you.’

You flushed, batting your eyelashes at him. If it were anyone else, he’d have thought you were being demure on purpose, just to be cute. But it wasn’t anyone else; it was you, and you were cute.

He wondered if you’d notice that he was wearing them today. Usually, you pointed them out when he did, and he liked it when you singled him out from everyone else and called him Beanpole, leaving everyone else slightly confused. Even Bob wasn’t in on that joke.

Once he was dressed and ready, he headed out to the Bronco. He had to run to avoid getting drenched, and he once again questioned his decision as he pulled off his driveway. Then he thought about you and realised he didn’t have music playing. For the duration of his journey, he sang along to old Bon Jovi songs, grinning like a fool at the thought of seeing you.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

It was only natural that you and Bob had travelled to the restaurant together since your house was on the way. Bob had an umbrella in the back of his pickup, so he went to your front door instead of texting to let you know he’d arrived. You received him in the most exquisite dress he’d ever seen, made even more jaw-dropping by the fact it was you wearing it. It was a deep navy, with a cowl neck and a ruffled hem. The top material layer was peppered with tiny crystals that gave the illusion of a beautiful starry night. Your hair fell in loose curls down your back, the top half pinned up with little star-shaped clips. As for your makeup… well, that was another story entirely. You’d worn more than usual, but you’d been careful not to make it seem overdone.

Bob was speechless. Objectively, he’d always known you were a gorgeous woman but seeing you all dolled up like that had him pulling at the collar of his shirt, hoping to loosen it a little.

‘Bobby. You look handsome.’

Since the restaurant Reuben had picked was fancy, Bob had opted for black suit pants, a white button-down, and a collared leather jacket. Standing next to you, he felt he must look overwhelmingly disappointing.

‘And you look like a movie star. I should’ve laid a red carpet.’ Bob replied, sounding more confident than he felt.

You shifted from one foot to the other, beaming like you’d won the lottery.

‘I thought I’d meet you at the door with this,’ he explained, waving the umbrella. ‘I’m glad I did. Wouldn’t want your pretty hair gettin’ ruined,’ he stammered. ‘Or your dress.’

‘That’s kind of you, thanks. I don’t even know if I own an umbrella.’

‘Do you have a jacket?’

‘Yeah, let me just turn the lights off and grab it. I’ll be back in two seconds.’

As you turned around, Bob diverted his gaze from your figure, focusing instead on the colourful flowers you had growing in hanging baskets on your porch.

You came back wearing a leather jacket similar to his. He held the umbrella over the two of you the whole way down your driveway and opened the passenger side door so you could climb in. He was momentarily worried that you’d struggle to step into his truck with heels on, but then he realised you weren’t wearing heels. You were wearing a pair of white Dr Martens with silky white ribbons as laces—in retrospect, he should have expected that of you by now.

When you arrived at Juniper and Ivy, the host took you to a large table in the back corner near three floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn’t dark yet, but the stormy weather made it feel like the middle of the night. The table was set for eight, with impressive settings and flickering candles. Mickey and Natasha had already been seated. You sat opposite her, next to the window, and Bob tucked you in.

‘Thanks, Bobby,’ you said as he sat beside you. ‘You’ve been a true gentleman tonight.’

‘Anytime.’ He mumbled.

It took a tremendous effort to ignore the sensation of Mickey and Nat’s eyes boring holes into the top of his head as he scanned the menu before him. However, it was harder to ignore the feeling of Mickey kicking him in the shin beneath the table. Bob glared at him over the rim of his glasses, silently asking what the fuck, man? Mickey raised his eyebrows in silent response, nodding his head at you. Thankfully, you were so absorbed in the cocktail menu that you hadn’t noticed. Then, the unthinkable. Mickey nodded at you, then back at Bob, then subtly did the thrusting action. He bit his lip and rolled his eyes to paint a detailed picture of what he was trying to insinuate. Natasha snorted into her glass of water, causing you to look up.

‘Did I miss something?’ You questioned.

Mickey’s eyes dropped to his lap as though he’d been chastened.

He was prevented from having to answer, thanks to Bradley and Javy arriving at the table, instantly distracting you.

‘Beanpole,’ you smirked. ‘If you keep wearing those boots, you’ll wear ‘em out.’

Bradley made straight for you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. You seemed just as surprised as everyone else.

‘Show me which pair you’re wearing tonight.’

You swivelled in your seat and hiked your dress up so he could see your boots. The sight of the smooth skin above them was enough to turn Bob’s stomach to mush. He needed to pull himself together.

Bradley tapped the tip of your boot with the tip of his to show his appreciation while Javy took the spot next to Bob. Bradley walked around the table next to Mickey, presumably so he could see you better.

Bob wasn’t an idiot. If he’d showed up and the seat next to you was already taken, he’d have done the same thing.

‘So,’ Bradley started, an insatiable smirk plastered to his face. ‘We’re waitin’ on Payback and Bagman?’

‘Reuben just texted me,’ Mickey responded. ‘They’re five minutes out.’

You leaned over slightly—your head almost resting on Bob’s shoulder—and showed him the

cocktail menu. ‘I wonder if they make good sex on the beaches here.’

‘How did I know you were gonna order that?’

‘I can’t help it,’ you groaned. ‘They’re my weakness.’

‘I’ll order you one when the waitress comes over.’

‘We should’ve got a cab,’ you countered. ‘Then you could’ve had one too. I promise you’ll like them. It’s glorified fruit juice.’

‘We could go for drinks at that bar by your house sometime,’ Bob offered. ‘It’s walkable. That way, I can try one, and we don’t have to worry about driving.’

Bob genuinely wasn’t expecting you to get as excited as you did. ‘Yes! Why haven’t we thought of this sooner?’

Your conversation was (rudely) interrupted by Bradley, setting an ornately decorated cocktail in front of you. Bob had been so wrapped up in your proximity and the sweet scent of your perfume that he hadn’t noticed Bradley leave the table.

‘Sex on the beach.’ Bradley stated, seemingly quite proud of himself.

The spell was broken, and suddenly, it was no longer you and Bob. His eyes flicked from you to Bradley, noticing how you mirrored his pleased expression.

‘Damn, Bradshaw, at least take me out to dinner before you start suggesting that.’

Everyone who had been paying attention laughed, even Bob. His was nervous, and when Natasha shot him a pointed look, this nasty sensation only increased. It was a look that said get her before it’s too late.

You were only kidding, right? You’d have said the same thing if Mickey had bought you the drink instead of Bradley. Right?

When Reuben and Jake arrived dressed to the nines, the waitress came over and took a drink order and your starters. Bob made a point of ordering you another cocktail. When you winked and asked him if he was trying to get you drunk, he felt as though all the balance had been restored in the world once again.

‘Y/N,’ Natasha said. ‘You wanna come to the bathroom with me before the first course arrives?’

You shrugged. ‘Sure, why not?’

You waited for Nat at the top of the table since she had to walk around. She linked arms with you when she got to you, and the two of you headed off toward the bathroom, completely unaware of all the eyes on you.

Bob was aware. It was all he could do not to get up and walk out when Jake opened his mouth.

‘Who knew Y/CS had a body like that underneath her uniform?’ Jake drawled.

Javy seemed to share Jake’s thought process. ‘I know, right? She looks like a damn supermodel in that dress.’

Bob accidentally locked eyes with Bradley, who was doing a worse job of hiding his anger than he was. He wished you’d both said no to this dinner and gone to the bar near your house instead. He wished he was listening to you sing or playing the drums to your guitar at his house.

He wished he wasn’t jealous that the other guys had started paying attention to his best friend.

He wished this meant anything other than what it did because he knew things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Natasha looked drop-dead gorgeous in her pale blue trousers and matching oversized blazer. Her hair was loose and wavy, and you were obsessed with the smoky eyeshadow she’d done.

‘That outfit is to die for,’ you told her. ‘I love the colour on you.’

‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘But let’s talk about that dress. You look stunning.’

You scoffed. ‘This old thing.’

She opened the bathroom door for you, and you stepped inside. Nobody was in there, and before you knew what was happening, Nat dragged you over to the bench on the other side.

‘Why does a bathroom need a loveseat?’ You wondered aloud.

She sat you down and took both your hands, leaning forward excitedly. For what, you had no idea.

‘We need to talk about the dress. And Bob. And Rooster.’

‘What do you mean?’

Nat rolled her eyes, squeezing your hands urgently. ‘Don’t be cute. Tell me you didn’t see all those guys turn around to watch you walk away just then!’

‘They did?’

‘Yes! Not to mention Bradley acting like a lovesick fool the second he saw you. Or Bob staring at you like you hung the fucking moon in the sky!’

This was too much. ‘Okay, system overload.’

‘You need to open your eyes.’

‘I need you to back up a few steps. How was Bradley acting like a lovesick fool?’

‘He didn’t even say hi to anyone else. The man didn’t even look at us. He went straight for you, and started on that little inside joke you have about your boots. And then he bought you that drink, which, by the way, he’d already gone up to buy before you even said anything out loud. He remembers from that time we all went to that seafood place, and you had the bartender make you a jug for the table.’

This was all well and good, but it didn’t necessarily mean he was lovesick, and you told Nat so.

‘And as for Bob, that’s another story. That man worships the ground you walk on, and if you can’t see it, you should ask to borrow his glasses.’

It was almost comical that Nat was so riled up and self-assured. You could believe that Bob had a little crush. Hell, you had a little crush on him, too. But there was no way someone as confident and vibrant as Bradley could have a thing for you. That was one step too far into crazy town.

‘They’re gonna wonder where we’ve gotten to.’ You said, hoping she’d just drop this.

‘We need to talk about it at some point. I’m dying here, Y/N.’ Natasha insisted.

‘Breakfast date tomorrow?’

‘Yes. I swear to God, if I’m wrong about Bradley, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.’

‘Oh, you’re on.’

‘But if I’m right,’ she grinned. ‘You have to do the same.’

Another cocktail was waiting for you when you returned to the table. Bob’s brow was furrowed, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothing the worry line above his glasses. For the second time that evening, it dawned on you just how handsome he was.

The rest of the meal passed without great event. The food was to die for, and everyone commended Reuben for his spectacular choice of restaurant. The atmosphere was great; friends surrounded you, and Bradley and Bob seemed to be taking turns buying you cocktails. Nat was drinking an old-fashioned, and the boys had taken to buying her one every time they went up for you. You watched as she reached for her phone and typed out a text, not in the least bit surprised when your phone vibrated on the table.

You were glad Bob was chatting with Javy and Reuben about work because it would have been awkward if he had seen your phone now.

Both of you were giggling like idiots, utterly unaware of everyone else around you. Mickey was reading Nat’s phone over her shoulder, and Bradley watched you like a hawk. If you’d looked up at that moment, you’d have seen him gazing hungrily, eyes flitting from your face to the bare skin your dress didn’t cover.

The cocktails had gone to your head quicker than usual. You’d lost count of how many you’d had, what with Bradley and Bob’s efforts to keep a drink in front of you at all times. The more you thought about it, the more it did kind of seem like a dick-swinging contest.

After dessert had been eaten and the cheque split seven ways (Bob insisted on covering your portion), the dagger squad devised a new plan. Those who had been drinking wanted to keep on drinking, and the designated drivers wanted to start. Bob, Bradley, Mickey, Jake and Reuben had all driven, and they wanted to lose their cars and meet up with everyone at The Hard Deck to continue the night. Well, Bob wasn’t given a choice because if he was paying for your meal, you were taking him drinking and paying for everything he wanted. Plus, you didn’t want to go if he wasn’t going to be there.

So, you and Nat were going with Bob to The Hard Deck—he would leave his car there for the night, get a cab back to your place and spend the night in your guest room. This way, you could drop him back to his car tomorrow morning. Nat insisted she also wanted to stay at your place, like a slumber party. Clearly, the drinks were hitting her, too. You were sure Mickey would have invited himself as well had he been in the car with you. He loved being an honourary girl. Bradley, Mickey, Javy and Jake were taking their cars home and meeting everyone else there.

Bob gave you and Nat the umbrella and ran to start the truck.

‘So,’ Nat giggled, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘Floyd is spending the night at your place.’

‘In the guest room.’

‘Still. He’s gonna be ten feet from you all night. How ever will you control yourself?’ She teased.

Bob’s truck was a monster, and you’d always thought it didn’t match his personality—a black Dodge Ram 1500, basically big enough to live in. Like his house, he kept it incredibly clean, and you were always scared of breathing inside it.

You opened the back door for Nat, and she clambered in. Just as you were about to close the umbrella and climb in after her, Bob said: ‘Get in the front, Y/CS. I’m not a goddamn Uber driver.’

Well, that was it. Nat was literally doubled over in the back seat, and you ended up crouched on the pavement next to the truck in stitches. Maybe it was the alcohol and the good vibes you were tipsy from, or perhaps it was because Bob wasn’t even trying to be funny with that line—he was deadly serious. Either way, you couldn’t stop laughing.

Bob had to get back out of the truck and help you into the front seat, so he was soaked when he got back behind the wheel.

‘Oh, Bobby,’ you giggled. ‘Look at you. I’m so sorry.’

Your inhibitions were long gone, so it made perfect sense in your mind to reach out and take Bob’s glasses off and wipe them clean on your dress. Then, you took his face in both hands and gently swiped the water off his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs. He’d closed his eyes, completely lost in the feeling. You’d momentarily forgotten that Natasha was in the backseat until she cleared her throat. Gently, you put Bob’s glasses back on for him and then busied yourself by connecting your phone to Bluetooth.

‘Okay,’ Nat said. ‘If you two are finished, I need another drink.’

You struggled to connect to the audio system, so Bob quickly typed his password in and handed you his phone. Opening up Spotify, you hit shuffle on his liked songs. Rollin’ by Limp Bizkit came on, and you gasped loudly.

‘This is a fucking great song. One of the best ever.’

Bob laughed as you reached out and turned up the volume, bopping your head along as he reversed out of the parking lot. You didn’t expect Nat to know it or like it, but she did, and you sang along obnoxiously the whole drive, first to Rollin’, then to Break Stuff.

‘You know what they say, Bobby?’

He indulged you: ‘What’s that?’

‘Live, laugh, Limp Bizkit.’

A/N: I can't express how excited I am about this series. If only you knew what I've got hidden up my sleeve! I've been thinking about it for a long time. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

#top gun maverick #top gun #robert floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #robert bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #natasha trace #mickey garcia #jake seresin #reuben fitch #pete mitchell #javy machado

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lewmagoo · 2 years ago

Text

someone to watch over me | bob floyd

description: in which a secret service agent is willing to go to great lengths to protect that which is most precious to him

warnings: 18+ only, mention of guns, assassination attempt, forbidden love, american political system (this is a warning in and of itself ok), brief mention of vomiting, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, slight possessiveness

characters: au bob floyd x afab!reader, dagger squad but make them secret service agents

dt: @bradshawsbitch because she listened to me scream about this idea incessantly <3

You’re safe.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your ribs and leap forth out of your chest. Your breathing was rushed, coming in quick bursts, panicked intakes as you tried to suck life-preserving oxygen into your lungs.

You’re safe.

You were safe. You knew you were. However, the events that had just happened moments prior still had you shaken, vibrating with terror. Tears had gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks, blurring your vision.

You’re safe.

“I’m safe. No one can hurt me. I’m safe.” You kept repeating this chant, trying to convince yourself that it was true. But it was doing little to soothe the fear that was still surging through your veins, like a drug that had induced a bad trip.

There was only one thing that could calm you down. One person. But that person was on the other side of those secured doors, dealing with the situation that had risen. The situation that had put you in danger.

You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. “Bobby!” And he was there in an instant, springing into action, throwing himself between you and the person who’d tried to get close to you.

You were pushed back, sent into Bradley Bradshaw’s waiting arms as Reuben, Jake, and Bob intercepted the perpetrator. You knew you wouldn’t be able to see your Bobby, but that didn’t stop you from trying to search for him within the chaos.

“Keep your eyes ahead,” Bradley spoke in your ear. His arm was secured around your waist, his body protectively shielding your own. You were vaguely aware of Natasha and Mickey ahead of you, making sure the way was clear as you were ushered to the waiting car.

You were practically thrown into the large black Escalade, and Bradley was right behind you, sliding into the seat beside you. You were buzzing with fright, hands trembling as you clutched at the edges of the leather seat.

Your mind, however, was not on your own safety. It was on Bobby’s. Although you knew what a situation like this entailed, it was still a shock to your system to watch him spring into action. His sole job was to protect you, even if that meant laying down his own life to do so.

But you didn’t want him to sacrifice his life for yours. You wanted him alive and in your arms. You wanted to hold him to your chest and run your fingers through his hair like you had done so many times before, pretending that his job wasn’t to keep you alive. Ignoring the cold, hard reality that there were evil people out there who would not hesitate to kill you if they had the chance.

Bob, and the rest of your security team, was there to see to it that no one had that chance. And up until now, you had experienced nothing more than threats. No one had ever physically tried to come after you.

You had discussed what such an event would entail. You knew who would be at the front, handling the threat, and who would escort you out of harm’s way. Selfishly, you’d wanted Bob to be the one who wrapped his arm around you and pulled you away, only because you knew that was where he would be safest. The others could deal with taking the threat down, just as long as Bobby was by your side.

But it hadn’t worked out that way.

Now here you were, unsure of his fate. You wouldn’t know until later on if he was okay or not. But he was all you could think about. You knew how foolish it was to ask about him, to give anyone an inclination that you were tangled up in a secret relationship with him.

You asked about him anyway. “Is Bobby okay?”

Bradley, who had just instructed Javy to step on it and take you back to the hotel where you were staying, gave you a long glance. You could see the way his jaw tensed. Bradley was no fool. He knew you and Bob had something going on. But he had never spoken of it to anyone. All it would take was one word, and Bob would lose his job. Bradley, however, was unwilling to be the one who helped send his friend’s career down the drain, no matter how foolish harboring such a secret was.

“He’s got it handled. Don’t worry about him,” he murmured.

But you couldn’t help it. You wouldn’t stop worrying until he was back in your arms. Until then, you had no choice but to go along with what was taking place. So you remained beside Bradley, huddling in on yourself, arms folded over your chest.

Your mind replayed the situation as if someone kept hitting the rewind button. One moment, everything had been just fine. You had been attending an event, a gala to raise funds for a children’s charity.

The event was one you attended every year, as the cause was near and dear to your heart. It was one of the few things you felt like you could call your own. Your father was the leader of the free world. Everyone associated you with him. No one seemed to refer to you by your name. You were often called the President’s daughter. It made you feel like you had no identity outside of your father’s presence in the White House.

Coming to events like these gave you a sense of purpose, and you loved meeting the families of children who had been positively impacted by this particular charity.

And that was just what you were doing the night your life was threatened. You had warned your security team ahead of time that you wished to stop and speak to some of the families who stood along the rope line outside.

Because you would be out in the open, your detail had been upped. Normally, you had Bob, Jake, Bradley, and Natasha around you at any given time. But tonight, the head of White House security, Pete Mitchell, had assigned a few others.

But even with all those extra eyes, someone still managed to slip past the cracks.

You were none the wiser to the fact that everything was about to be turned upside down. You had stopped to kneel down at a little girl’s level, because she tugged at your heartstrings and you simply couldn’t resist.

Just behind that little girl’s family, a man was approaching. He didn’t appear out of the ordinary. In fact, he was holding a small baby, swaddled in blankets, in his arms.

You’d stepped a little too far away for Bob’s liking. He was watching you like a hawk, as he always did. You’d slipped further down the rope line, prompting he and Jake to move closer toward you.

The man holding the baby pushed through the crowd, and he opened his mouth to call your name, motioning to his child. You smiled warmly at him, prepared to greet him and ask for his name.

But in the blink of an eye, faster than you could even register, he let that baby drop from his arms. You gasped in shock, but Bob had already clocked the situation before the man let the baby drop. Hidden beneath that bundle of blankets was…

“Gun!”

“Bobby!” You shrieked in terror, but he was on it, one hand drawing his own gun from its holster on his hip, while the other yanked you back harshly, right into Bradley, who whisked you away without a second thought.

Now here you were, reeling in the backseat of a bulletproof car, wondering how someone could be so unhinged that they would draw a gun in the midst of children. The depravity sent nausea rushing through you, and suddenly, you were certain you were going to be sick.

And you were. With a gasp, you lurched forward, unable to stop it as your body reacted. Beside you, Bradley was not surprised. He simply reached forward, pushing the fabric of your dress aside so you wouldn’t get anything on it.

“I’m sorry!” You wailed as you straightened back up, wiping your mouth, just as tears began to slide down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, it happens,” he soothed, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit jacket, and handing it to you to wipe your mouth.

Oh, how you wished it was Bobby beside you. He knew how to take care of you. He was familiar and gentle and attentive. Not that Bradley wasn’t those things, but that familiarity wasn’t there. He was simply part of your security detail, nothing more. Even so, you knew you were safe with him. Knew he’d sooner lay down his life than let anything happen to you.

And in that moment, he did his best to comfort you, reassuring you when you fretted about the mess you’d made on the floor of the expensive car. “Trust me, it’s fine. I’ll get it taken care of,” he promised. “Right now let’s focus on getting you to safety.”

As the car pulled up outside of the back entrance of the hotel, Bradley was quick to usher you out. He kept you close, just as Natasha and Mickey flanked him as soon as they’d climbed out from their car that had followed behind yours.

Within seconds, you were back in the safety of the hotel, ushered into the back service elevator that took you straight up to your floor. Bradley was quick to pull the key card out of his pocket, and you didn’t let out a breath until you were within the confines of your room.

But that breath soon quickened, and you began pacing about like a cornered horse. You were vaguely aware of Natasha calling your name. But it didn’t register until she was standing before you, the gentle brown of her eyes meeting yours.

“Hey,” she softly spoke, “you need a minute?”

“Y-yeah,” you croaked.

“Okay.” Carefully, she guided you to the bathroom. “Take as long as you need. Bradley’s out here. Mick and I will be in the hall. Nobody comes in or out without our say-so.”

All you could manage was a nod before you turned and barricaded yourself in the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you clamped your hand over your mouth and sank down to the floor, stifling a sob.

Moments like these made you wish you lived a normal life. Oh, how you longed for the mundane. Longed to feel safe, instead of having an enormous target on your back.

You hadn’t asked for any of this. While you’d never voiced it to your father, you hated that he had taken this position. Why couldn’t he have taken a simple blue-collar job at a steel mill or a construction company? Instead, he’d gone for the highest office in the world.

Sometimes, you felt like you got lost in the shuffle. You were expected to just go along with it. Keep up appearances. Behave the way a president’s daughter should. But you hated every moment of it. Your life would never be normal. Even after your father completed his term and moved on to other things. You would always need security. You would never be safe.

You tried to take it in stride. You had to get used to the fact that this was just how life was. But that didn’t mean you loved it.

The only solace in the midst of it all was your sweet Robert. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, but who could ever decide when and who they were going to fall in love with? It had simply happened. You’d felt the connection with him from the instant you met.

And although you both tried to ignore your feelings for propriety’s sake, one thing had led to another and now you were so deeply in love that you didn’t know what to do with yourselves.

But the knowledge that harm could have come to Bob while he was protecting you only brought on more tears. This was why it was foolish to get involved with him. You both knew it was. Knew how much it would hurt if the other was harmed. Knew how much it could cloud his judgment and prove to be a distraction while he tried to carry out one of the most high-profile jobs in America.

For Bob, his need to protect you had only increased tenfold since he’d realized just how intensely he cared for you. Sometimes, the lengths he was willing to go to scared him.

He wasn’t a violent man by any means. In fact, he was rather passive. But he was very analytical and especially good at assessing threats. He was a chameleon, blending in as an innocent, unassuming guy. However, when push came to shove, he was a force to be reckoned with. Calm, methodical, but dangerous. Deadly, if he had to be.

But to you, he was kind and sweet. In the beginning, he’d almost been shy. But you’d quickly learned that he was only reserved around certain people. Around you, he opened up and bared his soul to you, allowing you to reach into his chest, prying his very ribs apart and exposing his heart to you.

Now that his heart was knitted with yours, he had something to lose. Everything to lose. And he’d be damned if he let you be taken from him. When he saw the man in the crowd coming toward you, everything happened in slow motion.

His eyes had shot to Jake and Reuben, the trio wordlessly communicating as Bob threw you behind him. Protect her at any cost. That was all that went through his head.

He had succeeded in that mission. You were now safe and sound, hidden away in the bathroom of your hotel room while he dealt with the aftermath. There was no question that your father would be demanding to know how anyone had managed to get that close to you. Bob could almost hear his outraged voice over the phone, “how in God’s name did you let him get that close?!”

How had they let him get so close? The surrounding block had been cordoned off. How on earth had a man with a weapon managed to slip through the cracks? It was certain that an investigation would be enacted. The target had been neutralized, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have others working with him.

Bob was mentally preparing himself to be put through the wringer. The whole team was going to be. But to him, it was all worth it, as long as he made it back to you.

He was in for a long night, but after it was all said and done, he would slip into your room, curl into bed beside you, and hold you in his arms, knowing that it was all because of him and his team that you were unharmed.

In the meantime, you were alone, trying to process what had happened. You felt so pathetic, huddled on the cold bathroom floor, crying your eyes out. But it was a reasonable reaction after all you’d just endured.

You weren’t sure how long you spent on that uncomfortable floor, but it was long enough to cause numbness to creep down your legs from sitting in one spot for too long.

It was then that you hauled yourself up from the floor and decided to take a shower. Washing the events of the evening down the drain seemed like the best course of action. So that was exactly what you did.

Twenty minutes and one fogged-up bathroom later, you were wrapping a plush towel around your body to dry off, before you slipped into one of the hotel robes, welcoming its warmth.

Foolishly, you considered the idea that Bob would be waiting for you in your room, and for a split second, your heart quickened in your chest, hope warming your veins.

But when you opened the door, all you were met with was an empty room. You let out a weary sigh and padded across the plush carpet, grabbing your phone off the charger, which seemed that Bradley had been kind enough to plug in for you.

However, when the screen lit up, you realized that it had been inundated with notification after notification. Missed calls from your parents and other family members. Texts from friends. Social media notifications.

Immediately, you found yourself overwhelmed. Your chest tightened, sending a jolt of anxiety through you.

Knowing they would worry the most out of everyone, you sent a quick text to your parents. “I’m okay.” And then turned off the phone. You couldn’t handle it. You knew if you kept your notifications on you’d spiral into a panic attack.

How you longed for Bobby to be with you, comforting you like only he knew how. But you wouldn’t soon get your way, so you resigned yourself to trudging over to the bed, collapsing onto the plush of the mattress.

You had no more tears left to cry, so you simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Trying to think of something, anything other than what was taking place.

Eventually, you climbed beneath the covers, huddled into their warmth, but sleep would not come. You tried watching television, but as you scrolled through the channel, new coverage of what had happened was plastered everywhere.

With a growl of frustration, you turned off the TV and threw the remote, which bounced off the bed and landed on the floor. You couldn’t be bothered to pick it up.

Hours passed, slowly dragging by as you tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, unable to rest. You didn’t want to be alone anymore. It was scary, because your mind kept wandering.

Even though the rational part of you knew Bob was fine, and was just tied up in the situation at hand, your brain took you to the worst-case scenario. Maybe he had gotten hurt. Maybe the man who’d pulled a gun on you had managed to fire a shot and severely wound him, or worse?

The thought of your precious Bobby fighting for his life in a hospital bed sent a fresh wave of nausea through you, and in an instant, you were leaping out of bed.

You had to know where he was. Had to know that he was okay. Had to ask someone, had to…

Suddenly, the sound of the door unlocking caught your attention, and you froze in the middle of the room. Seconds later, that door came open, and in walked Bob. Disheveled, exhausted, but all in one piece.

He let the door slam shut behind him, and you both stood there for a beat, staring at one another, taking in the sight of the other. His hair was mussed, tousled from it’s usually impeccably neat style. His tie was undone, and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned.

He dropped the duffel he’d been carrying on his shoulder, and suddenly, he sprang forward. But it didn’t matter, because you were already moving at the same time.

“Bobby!” You sobbed out, falling into his arms, burying your face against his chest.

He caught you with ease, arms wrapping securely around you as he held your trembling form. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and if you hadn’t been so overwhelmed with your own emotion you might’ve realized how badly he was shaking.

“I’m here now,” he whispered against the top of your head, the waver in his voice betraying him, “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“Don’t let go!” You wept.

“I won’t. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” He longed to say more, but he could not find the words to describe how relieved he was, how scared he’d been. Words fell short, so he remained silent.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, embracing one another. But it was quite some time. When you finally parted, you found that your tears had soaked through the fabric of his dress shirt.

His hands, so big and familiar, came up to hold your face. His thumbs wiped your tears away. The way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were real, in his arms, made your chest constrict.

He could have lost you, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did. The thought of such a thing happening almost brought him to his knees.

“I…you…when I saw him go for that gun, I…” but he couldn’t get the words out.

“I know,” you whispered, voice thick.

Gingerly, he lowered his hand, pressing it against your chest, just over where your heart was. He could feel it thrumming within you, pumping your lifeblood through your body. The blood that kept you alive. The blood that had not been spilled that night, because he’d succeeded in his purpose of protecting you.

“You’re okay. You’re alive,” he breathed, but it was more to reassure himself than you.

Your eyes locked with his, big and blue and watery from the tears he’d shed. “We’re both alive.”

He nodded, but he still looked as if he was grappling with it. He had not been given the luxury of processing any of it. He’d been inundated with procedures and questions and demands. Not once had he been able to stop and fully think about what had happened.

Now that you were in his arms, it was hitting him all at once. It was almost too much to bear, but then, you were speaking.

“Bobby.”

He looked at you immediately, and it was as if everything else had melted away, leaving only your face in his sight. His hand was still pressed against your sternum, thumb absently running along your warm skin. Alive and unharmed.

“I’m safe. You kept me safe,” you told him. Your hand was now resting over his own against your chest. You let him feel each breath.

“I kept you safe,” he echoed.

You crowded his space, your body now pressed to his. You were struck, suddenly, with an intense longing that took the very breath from your lungs. Your hands were on his chest now, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

A silent understanding passed between you both in that moment. No words were spoken. You knew what the other was thinking. In mere seconds, you were crashing together, as if he was a wave and you were the shore upon which he’d landed.

Your lips met, and you kissed each other desperately, as if you couldn’t get close enough, as if you parted, you would die. You held onto him tightly, and his arms secured you in place against him.

You kissed fervently, frantically. And as you parted only briefly, you both realized that there were tears. His, yours, rolling down each of your cheeks, like rain falling from the sky.

“Bobby,” you whimpered again.

“I know,” he gasped against your mouth.

He was already leading you to the bed, and you were tugging at his clothes, driven by need. A need that burned so hotly, so intensely, you were certain it would consume you whole and turn you into ash in his hands.

He laid you out like you were precious porcelain, and you watched as he leaned back to shrug out of his suit jacket, followed by his tie. In a split second, he glanced down at his shirt, and he knew he didn’t have the patience to undo each button. So, in one swift motion, he yanked the fabric apart, sending the buttons flying. He couldn’t be bothered to care, because nothing else mattered but you.

Haphazardly, he tossed his clothing aside, and soon, he was entirely bare. It was as if he couldn’t reach you fast enough. He was swift to climb onto the bed, and those large hands tugged at the sash of your robe, allowing the front to fall open.

You sat upright, allowing it to slip from your upper body completely before you surged forth into your lover’s arms. Your mouths were on each other in another searing kiss, naked bodies moving in sync.

Hands traveled, touching warm skin. A way to convince the other, “you’re safe. You’re alive.”

You let him lay you down again, spreading your body open for him. Parting your legs, exposing the most intimate parts of yourself to him. But that seemed to pale in comparison to the way you’d just bared your hearts to one another.

I was so scared. He tried to speak it into the air, but the words died in his throat. He could not force them past his lips. But he had been scared. The most terrified he’d ever felt in his entire life. Until now, he hadn’t realized the lengths he was willing to go to to keep you safe.

He’d always said one thing or the other, but until he was staring into the face of danger, he didn’t know. Not truly. The thought of losing you went down like a bitter poison, causing him to retch and seize. It was unimaginable. Unthinkable. Unfathomable.

“I love you.” He spoke the words out loud, his hands holding you, palms pressed against your ribs. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved before.”

Your eyes welled with tears and you kissed him again. “I love you too.” Those words felt so meager. You were not eloquent enough to express what he truly meant to you. You loved him so much it hurt, an unbearable ache rumbling through your chest like a stampede of wild horses.

He pulled you closer still, mouth against yours, whispering soft admissions of his adoration for you. You were straddling him at that point, and you could feel him, just beginning to harden.

In a haze of desperate need, you reached down, coaxing him to full hardness, gasping about how you needed him inside you. You needed to be connected in the most intimate of ways. You felt as if you were going to suffocate if you didn’t get him inside you in the next few minutes.

Bob soothed you with a languid kiss, tongue delving into your mouth as he gently held the back of your head in his hand. “I know. I’ve got you, little love,” he soothed.

You keened lowly in your throat, staring at him with wide, watery eyes. You had never felt desire this intensely before. Even after all the times you’d made love. This was different. This was two lovers, terrified of what could have been, rejoicing that it had not happened, and seeking solace in the other’s arms in a way that was so sacred and intimate it could hardly be spoken of out loud.

If you tried to put it into words it would only serve to make you weep.

So you didn’t try. You simply allowed yourself to be enveloped in the safety and warmth of your lover. He held you so close, chest to chest, hip to hip. By now you were crying out for him, pleading with him, desperate for him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated. And he did. You knew he did.

Skilled fingers worked between your thighs, coaxing those delicate folds apart, making sure that they were ready to take him fully. Once he was absolutely certain that he would not hurt you, he aligned himself with you.

He slipped inside you in one fluid motion, mouth swallowing the broken wail that ripped itself from your throat at the feeling of being so full, so close, so consumed. You shook in his arms, unable to fathom that it could feel like this.

“Bobby!” You sobbed.

He let out a broken cry and let his head fall onto your shoulder. He held you for a few moments as you both adjusted to the feeling of being connected. At some point, those large hand had made their way to your hips, and ever so slowly, he began to ease you up and down, back and forth.

You gasped sharply, hands shooting out to grip his shoulders, head coming forward to rest against his forehead. You locked eyes with him, mouth falling open to let out soft gasps and whimpers.

“That’s it. I’m here. I’m here, sweet one. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never letting you out of my sight,” he professed.

Again, a sob escaped you. “Don’t ever leave! Never, ever!”

“I won’t!”

Your hands slid further back, until your arms were wrapped entirely around those shoulders. So close. Every inch of your bodies touching, heartbeats intermingling. You didn’t want to close your eyes, for fear of missing something. Fear of not being able to commit this moment to memory.

You never wanted to forget the deep, staggering blue of his eyes, which turned so dark sometimes they were almost black. But in brilliant, bright light, they were bluer than the deep sea. Bluer still than the heavens above your heads.

You never wanted to forget the feeling of him inside you. So deep, filling you so wholly that it stole the breath from your very lungs. Like he was created to be connected to you in such a way.

The feeling was almost more than you could bear, and yet, it was almost not enough all at once. You needed him closer, needed him so deep inside you that it hurt. But at the same time you needed him to be gentle, to handle you so softly, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the world outside.

Along with your need came a breathless chant of his name that you did not realize you were uttering. With each push and pull of his hips, you wailed out, “Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!”

“I’m here,” he repeated, “I’m here. Right here, baby. Not gonna leave you.”

You held him tighter still, burying your face in the crook of his neck, sobbing openly with each nudge of him inside you. You felt so safe in his arms. So warm. So protected. Like nothing could ever hurt you.

As he held you, adored you, made love to you, he knew that he’d stop at nothing to see to it that no harm ever came to you. He also knew how much you trusted him. How much you depended on him. He would be damned if he ever let you down. Damned if he ever failed.

He could feel your lips trailing feverishly against his skin, and he was reminded of how much you loved him. How much you cherished him. It made his chest ache, his heart threatening to burst forth.

He didn’t realize he was crying again until he felt wetness land against the hand he held against your shoulder. In a moment of need he pulled you back and sought out your lips, kissing you even as tears trailed down his cheeks.

“You’re my baby,” he whispered against your mouth. “My baby. Always gonna love you. Always gonna protect you. Mine.”

You pressed your forehead against his again, whimpering softly as you shifted your hips and felt him nudge against that wonderfully sensitive spot within you.

“‘m yours,” you assured him. How good it felt to say that. To give yourself to him, to place your heart in his hands and watch him handle it with such tenderness.

You wanted to say more, but you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs, punched away by each sip of his hips into yours, each stretch as your body tried to accommodate him. So big. So deep. Too much. Not enough. Just right. Don’t stop.

Push, pull, forward, backward. A steady rhythm you’d built between your bodies. He lifted his pelvis to meet yours each time you sank down. Your thighs were beginning to burn from the exertion, but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was the closeness. The connection. The end goal of this wasn’t to chase a release or experience insurmountable pleasure. It was simple to just be together. Joined as one. Pretending for just a few moments that everything was okay.

“Bobby. Oh! Bobby, I lo-love you,” you cried.

But he knew. And he kissed you. Swallowing up that confession, consuming it. He couldn’t speak if he tried, couldn’t utter a reply. So he held you. Hands kept you close, moving your body with his own.

Yeah. Just like that. Take it. So good for me. So sweet. Precious little baby, and you’re all mine.

You were clawing at him, trembling fiercely in his arms as your body grew warm, both from pleasure and from his proximity. With each push of his hips into you, his pubic bone pressed and ground against your sensitive little bundle, and you knew you would not be long for this world at the rate he was going.

Faster and deeper he went, until you were both rutting into each other in desperation, open mouths against the other, gasping, moaning, whimpering.

It built, and built, and built. Like water coming to a boil. Like magma readying itself to erupt from a volcano. The intensity was sudden and overwhelming, and you found yourself crying out.

You knew being loud wasn’t the best move. You weren’t entirely alone. Outside that hotel door was one of the members of your security detail. But you couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. Nothing else mattered but the man in your arms, buried inside you, clinging to you, loving you.

“You,” he breathed against your parted lips. “You are my world.”

“And you’re mine.” You were crying again. Molten tears sliding down hot cheeks. But he kissed those tears away. Kissed it better, just like he always did.

You were losing yourself now. He could tell. Could feel it in the way your body tightened around his, pulled taut like a violin string, ready to snap from its hold. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut tight, reeling from the overwhelming heat of it all.

Bobby pulled you down harder against him, filling you deeper still and pulling a broken sob from your raw throat. It was almost too much, and you found yourself grasping at him, nails leaving trails of pink and red in their wake. Your marks against his skin would only serve as a reminder of what had transpired this night between you both.

“B-Bobby, I’m-I’m close,” you whined.

“Let go when you need, little love,” he coaxed, barely holding it together himself.

More tears fell, faster than you could stop them. The closer you got, the faster you began to lose yourself. Crying, sniffling, whimpering. So close, so close, so close. And then, suddenly, firm hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he took complete control.

Driving into you over and over and over again, pulling cries of need and pleasure from your very lungs. All you could do was hold on tight, taking all he had to give as you wailed out his name repeatedly. Almost there. Teetering on the edge.

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

He was moments away from losing himself. So he begged you, pleaded with you, coaxed it out of you. “Come for me, my baby.”

And you did.

With a shriek, you surged forward in his arms, holding tightly to him. “Bobby!” And then you were coming. It hit you like a bolt of lightning, searing, blinding, electrifying. You shuddered and convulsed in the arms of the man you loved, sobbing openly, repeating his name like a sacred prayer.

Your pleasure pulled his own from him, and he let out a strangled moan of your name as he offered a few more sharp pulses of his hips against yours before the evidence of his ecstasy flooded the very deepest part of you.

You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his pearlescent release flooding you, claiming you as his own and no one else’s. Still shivering from the aftershocks, you both slowly came down, holding onto one another, unable to speak or think.

Gradually, the fog began to clear. Your mind grew less hazy. Your eyes less glossy. Your limbs, however, felt heavy as ever, as if they were filled with sand. But you made no move to break the connection your bodies still had to one another. An anchor in the midst of a storm.

The feeling of Bobby’s hands sliding soothingly along your spine brought you back. As your eyes refocused, you took in the sight of his handsome face. Flushed cheeks. Glimmering eyes. Kiss-bitten lips.

“Are you alright?” were the first words out of his mouth as he finally found the wherewithal to speak.

You nodded, slipping our arms around his neck, snuggling into him. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Good, ‘cause that was intense. I didn’t expect that to happen, but…it did.”

“I’m glad it did. I needed to be close to you. To forget about what happened for a little while.”

A hum rumbled in his chest. “I needed that, too.”

Silence followed. Comfortable, stretching out for a few minutes until he finally slipped out of you, soothing your whimper at the emptiness you felt. “You’re okay, little love.”

But as he carefully moved you to lay in the bed, his face soon grew serious, eyes turning stormy gray. “I’m sorry,” he confessed. “I’m sorry any of this happened. He shouldn’t have been able to get that close to you. I should’ve seen it sooner. Should’ve done something before…I should’ve…”

“Bobby.”

His eyes flickered to yours.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“He could’ve hurt you. He could’ve taken you from me.”

“But he didn’t. You hear me? You protected me, just like you promised me you would. That’s all that matters.”

“What if, one day, I can’t protect you? What if I fail you? Fail your father?”

“Don’t, If you think like that, you’ll just drive yourself mad. What I need from you is to focus on the here and now. Not the ‘what if’. Okay? I need you with me now. I need…I need just a few hours in your arms before we have to face the rest of the world. I need my Bobby.”

He took a shuddering breath. Then another. And then, he looked at you. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’m with you until they call me away.”

And so, for the next few hours, he threw himself into taking care of you. Cleaning you up, wrapping you back into your robe, soothing you with gentle hands and loving words. It wasn’t long before you were succumbing to your exhaustion, and you fell asleep in Bob’s arms, safe and sound, if only for a few short hours.

The last thing you remembered hearing him murmur was a soft, “I love you” against your scalp as you drifted off.

However, the next morning, you woke to an empty bed, and a note on the bedside table that read, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you woke up. Bradley and Jake are right outside the door. You’re safe. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can. Love, Bobby.”

You wished you’d had just a few moments more with him. But time was your enemy. It always would be. Always moving. Dragging you from place to place. Even after your very life had been threatened, you were expected to move forward, because time stopped for no one.

Not even for a president’s daughter and her protector.

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#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #robert floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader

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midnightdevotion · 2 years ago

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Anyone Else

Requested: Can I get either a Bradshaw!reader or Mitchell!reader x Robert 'Bob' Floyd fic where the reader dated Jake before she ever met Bob, so when she meets the Dagger Squad as Bob's girl, it's the first time she's seen Jake since they broke up? Reader would be engaged or married to Bob and her and Jake would have ended on really bad terms. If this isn't up your alley and/or makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore this request. Lots of love regardless! 🥰🥰🥰

Pairing: Bob x Bradshaw!Reader, Past jake Seresin x reader

When bob first got called back to top gun you panicked. Not only was your husband called back but so was your brother and the closest thing you ever had to a father. You stressed everyday, hoping they would be safe and sound.

Two and a half weeks later when the mission was successful and bob had thankfully made it home safe and sound, he called you to let you know that the dagger squad was being made permanent and he would be coming home to help you pack up your house and move you both down to San Diego. Nothing sounded better than living near everyone you considered your family. In a whirlwind you two had packed up the house, put it on the market to sell and made an offer on a new house.

It didn't take long to sell your old home thankfully, and you two found a perfect home five minutes from the beach and close to work for bob. It all seemed like everything was falling perfectly into place.

Letting out a dreamy sigh as you look around the open floor plan for the home you just got the keys too, your husband turns to look at you.

"everything okay dear?" you can't help the grin you let shine on your face when you turn to look at your husband's concern.

"Everything is perfect." He gives you a soft smile and kiss on the forehead then continues voicing his thoughts on where you should hang the tv for least amount of glare during the day.

You listen to him rant about where he wants to put the couch and how he wants to hang your wedding photos, giving an occasional hum of agreement.

"oh and also I want you to meet my squad" this causes you to raise an eyebrow. Usually over protective bob keeps you away from the dirtbags in the airforce he's typically assigned to deal with. You didn't question that too much, because you have upfront experience with how most air force men are.

"you do?"

"Yeah- these guys- they're different and I want them to meet the most important person in my life"

"awe, of course I wanna meet them honey and I'm glad you are finally part of a team that aren't just egotistical assholes- though I know how Bradley can be" He laughs at your joke, but he knows how excited you really are at being able to live near everyone. Too often the navy drags people away from the ones they love, so you are both grateful for the chance that it brought you all together.

It's about six days later- after everything is unpacked and settled that you are meeting the rest of the dagger squad. Say what you want but bob is nothing but efficient when unpacking- and bossing maverick and Bradley around for help.

When you arrive at the beach- you are delighted to see Penny and Maverick rekindling their love. However, before you make it over to them Bradley rushes over.

"I have something I need to tell you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I didn't think you would come and-"

"What is it?" you furrow your brow trying to look over your brothers shoulder. Bob looks just as confused as you do unsure as to what is making rooster so frazzled.

"Jake is here."

This confuses bob even further- because of course Jake is here?

"w-what" It feels like you take a shot of icy hot. both heat and freezing cold rushes through your veins.

"Does someone wanna clue me in?" You swallow and look up at your sweet husband- living proof that the sweet soft genuine love you always wanted does exist and you have it.

"Well- about 5 years ago, Jake and I were engaged..."

---Flashback---

It's late on a Friday night and you and your fiance Jake are laughing at an inside joke you two have. Your heart has never felt so full. You're both ignoring whatever movie you had turned on in the background- enjoying the night together instead.

In fact you remember spending the whole weekend like this- so wrapped up in each other- so in love that nothing else mattered. Laughter echo's the walls in your shared apartment.

That Sunday night- you giggled as he traced each of your features. Adamant that he would be able to memorize every piece of you, mind body and soul.

You just laughed at him and told him you'd be there for him to study every night. You didn't focus on his smile not reaching his eyes, nor the shaky breathe he let out.

You went to bed after a weekend that felt like a dream- a montage in a movie really.

And you woke up to a note on his empty bedside table saying I'm sorry- with his silver ring sitting on top.

-----

Bob knew the story- he knew everything about you and your past. Losing your father, losing your fiance and every other thing your brain would ever think of telling him.

He just didn't know that Jake was the ex fiance.

"I think I need a minute" Is all bob said- rubbing his hands down his face as he turns in the opposite direction for a walk.

"bob wait-" he turns and you can see the worry on his face- all his anxieties displayed right there.

"Honey- It'll be okay I just need a minute to process I promise"

and you understood- of course you did. If roles were reversed you don't know how okay you would be coming face to face with bob having an ex fiance and then it turning out to be someone that you would see everyday.

So you heave a sign and turn back to face rooster. Only he's twenty feet further away then you expected and he's blocking one very frantic Jake Seresin.

"Bradshaw just let me talk to her" You could see Bradley shake his head, but honestly you needed to clear the air. Hell you were married and happy- you've moved on.

"Bradley it's okay" your brother tenses his shoulders. You watch him tell Jake to stay put for one minute and he comes over to you.

"Are you sure? because if you're not sure or not ready to deal with all of this then say the word and we will go home and you can meet everyone another night" You laugh at his over protective big brother tone and shake your head.

"Bradley it was five years ago- I'm happily married I don't need to eat ice cream and cry about the past." you watch his serious face and he nods more than necessary

"Okay okay, but I will be right there and you just holler if you want me to kick his ass, I never got to the first time so" You just shove him away and watch as he does the I'm watching you signal to Jake.

You watch as Jake makes his way over to you, stopping with about three feet between you. The silence stretches for a minute, and he clears his throat.

"I- um Hi"

"hello" and you don't give anything more than that- the way you see it, you were ready to share every part of you for life with him and he threw it away. You don't owe him any more of you. You watch him- seeing the struggle in his green eyes you once knew so well. The ones you had nightmares about after he left. You watch as he heaves a sigh and tugs on his blond strands.

"I- I know words will never explain or show how truly sorry I am for how I treated you back then- for how I.... For how I ended things between us, I just want to say I'm so sorry. Genuinely I am so sorry and everyday I wake up and for a blissful three seconds I forget every stupid mistake I ever made and think I get to roll over and see your face but I never do..." His words shock you a little more than you thought they would. You never expected him to regret when he walked out that night. You figured he was a navy man through and through and navy men alway choose their jets over everything else.

You know that's not fair- that bob would choose you everyday of the week, but you watched it all your life. Jake knew that you watched Maverick choose his jet over ever settling down, you watched Bradley do the same, and then when Jake of all people did it to you- you never thought you would be able to mend that heartbreak.

The Irony of it was not only did you heal, you still chose a navy man who was in jets everyday.

When you first met bob you were smitten- so was he. However when you found out what he did and he watched your face turn sour- he thought he would never have a chance with you. He watched you distance yourself from him and bob was never good with confrontation so when he showed up drunk at your door asking why you suddenly didn't want him after you made him fall in love with you- you spilled everything.

Here the very reason that bob drunkely confessed to being in love with you stands before you and you can't help the heartache that surges through you. Not because your unhappy now- or that you would even change anything.

No the heartache surges through you because Jake looks lost. Like he left himself in your apartment that night and you left him there too when you moved places and moved on.

"Look Jake, did I hate you for a long time for what you did? Yes, but I've moved on, for so long I wanted this day to come- this apology to spill out of your mouth. Thinking someway the words would heal all the hurt you caused, and it doesn't. The hurt still happened, the pain is still a memory for me, but it grows more distant everyday and I'm really grateful. Jake as much as I loved you- I deserve someone that would choose me even when it's hard."

you watch as he swallows hard, nodding his head. You see the exact moment his eyes land on your left hand, the furrow in his brow and he takes in the shining diamond sitting delicately on your left hand. You see the shaky exhale he lets out.

"you found that then?" it's phrased as a question but you know it's more of a statement.

"yes, I found that" he nods and he looks everywhere but you.

"In another life... I would do things differently"

"I know" and you do, you can see his regret all over his face, you can see the heartache in his eyes- the same heartache that stared back at you in the mirror for months on end. You also know he will be okay, that he will heal and move on just like you did. You step closer, and rest your hand on his shoulder.

"things work out Jake, you'll be okay" and with that you step away, and make your way towards the rest of the group.

----

It takes bob a while to join the group again, and it has you worried. You never would've thought bob would be so hurt by this when he knew the story.

So when he joins the group in dog fight football but doesn't greet you know something isn't right. You try and let it going knowing when he is ready you two will talk but as the night progresses and he continues to ignore you, you start to get frustrated.

It's nearing the end of the day- bob just help score the last goal and his team won, the boys lift him up and start chanting his name which makes you grin.

They finally all make their way back over to you and Penny- who has been a great soundboard for how stressful today has been for you.

"That was great honey" you send bob a sweet smile- hoping that playing whatever insane version of football that was helped get his frustrations out.

"thanks." and he turns to talk to Phoenix. Penny shoots you a glance and you just sigh.

When everyone moves inside the bar to keep the party going, you make your rounds in getting to know everyone now that they aren't running around like maniacs.

However, during this bob strategically always seems to be on the opposite end of the bar from you. When it reaches a point that you are socially drained and talked to everyone you move to the bar, and sit by yourself nursing whatever drink penny concocted for you.

You're starting to get tired but whenever you try to get bobs attention he turns his body another direction. It reached a point where you are so frustrated that you call an uber.

"penny I'm gonna head- If bob asks I got an uber home" her eyebrows shoot up in surprise but she agrees to pass on the information, and watches you leave.

---

Now bob might've been mad- not really at you and he knows that. God he knows that, but he's so mad because he didn't realize jake was the Jake and he's mad at himself because he feels so insecure. How could you want someone like bob over someone like Jake.

He's really mad because he's scared. He is so in love with you, but what if you want jake back? What if you want to leave him now because your real love, your first love was never really bob?

What does he do when every time he looks at you, he sees you saying your leaving him, that you're sorry but it was never him and it never will be?

So when he turns around because he has been checking on you every five minutes- he has a timer on his watch so he doesn't do it too often and your gone he panics.

His eyes frantically search the bar- and he hates that when his eyes land on jake standing with coyote he's relieved that you aren't right there.

He searches the bar high and low, and still nothing. He waits, because maybe you just went to the bathroom but when ten minutes have passed and he realizes that is unlikely he anxiously makes his way to penny.

"penny where is she" and penny doesn't even have to look up to know it's bob asking about you.

"she went home"

"home- but- I drove"

"she took and uber" he swallows hard at that. Thinking of every time he saw an article about a woman getting attacked in an uber- You were alone out there with some stranger all because bob couldn't get his shit together.

So he hightails it out of there, and he drives home maybe a little quicker than he should. He gets home and all he sees is the light you left on in the entry way when you left, and he panics even more- where are you?

He rushes to your room, feeling like he is going to vomit up his own heart any second now. He sees the bathroom light on to your shared bathroom and the rush of relief cools his veins like he just got a cold glass of water in the Sahara.

He flings the bathroom door open and sees you jump as you wash your face.

"god bob you scared me" you mutter, trying to rid the soapy bubbles from your face.

"I am so so sorry honey" this causes you to look at him through the mirror.

"for scaring me or ignoring me today." your statement isn't angry, just blunt.

"both... god I'm sorry I was an ass today"

"yeah you were, care to explain?" you watch and he swallows.

"I'm so sorry darling, I was just so gutted with fear when I realized that Jake was your Jake and I realized maybe--- maybe you would want to leave me and take him back and god why wouldn't you he looks way better than me and then i go and treat you like shit on top of it, makes it an easy choice doesn't it and-"

"bob" you cut him off from his rant.

"I do not want to get back with Jake. I married you because I love you, with my whole soul, you make me laugh and you make so so very happy, even my best days with Jake don't compare to how happy I am with you every day." you watch his shoulder sag in relief. You make your way towards him, and pull him in close for a hug.

"I never want to hear you say that you aren't attractive, honey you are the most attractive man I have ever met, physically, emotionally, and in every other way imaginable." you hope he can see all the love you have for him shining in your eyes.

He hugs you back and squeezes like he really thought you might disappear on him and that breaks your heart more than anything else ever could.

"when I said I do honey, it's because I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, nobody else. I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world and that will never change."

"I love you so much darling, I am so sorry I was stupid.... Please never uber anywhere again though they are so dangerous and I would've given you a ride" and you laugh at his antics because even clouded in his own insecurity and heartache he was worried about your safety.

Maybe that's why it was always meant to be bob, not anyone else. Bob may have bad days just like everyone else but above all else he cares so much it just scares him. You needed someone like bob to care for you after losing so much and he needed someone like you to choose him and soothe his worries away when they get to be too loud.

"it could never be anyone else"

you repeat the words a million times that night, and when you think about it, even the best weekend you ever had with Jake doesn't compare to everyday you have with Bob. It really could never have been anyone else.

Taglist:

@alanadetigy

@luckyladycreator2

@multiplefandomsmess

@tkmarvel-divergentbish

@ohh-to-be-a-frog

@roosterschanelslut

@americaarse

@malindacath

@atarmychick007

@trikigirl271

@lustfulseonghwa

@smoothdogsgirl

@elenavampire21

@jstarr86

#bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob x reader #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #topgun #top gun #hangman top gun #hangman x fem!reader #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin

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lottespics · 1 year ago

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Why Me? - Part 1

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, insecurities, pining (if I do end up writing more I will put more chapter warnings)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Bob is a total simp, and he is too caught up in his own insecurities to ever think about the possibility you may very well like him back.

A/N: Ok, so this is my first attempt at writing in a VERY long time, so pls be gentle to me, thank you. But if anyone comes upon this I hope you enjoy it! I'm hoping to write more and have it become a series but we'll see what happens. Also I suck at summaries so sorryyy.

For the twenty-nine years Bob had been alive he had never felt this way before. It took a single stare. A look. A glance really, to know that he had been blessed in this life. You’d think he was admiring a masterpiece carefully handcrafted by a tortured artist who had dedicated his life to his craft, or perhaps the sunset over the cliffs of La Jolla that reflected off of the water just right. But no. Because nothing in this moment could compare to the sight before him. It was simply you, holding a hand to your chest, throwing your head back in a laugh over some wild story Phoenix was telling you about her family back home.

Everything slowed down around him as the light from the bar cast a halo around your head. The way your cheeks flushed from the rowdy atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The way your soft hand slid from your chest to Phoenix’s shoulder in an attempt to catch your breath. He knew he was staring at this point, but he just couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Even gazing at you in awe from behind the pool table he found himself blushing at the thought of you and your inviting smile.

Just as you take a sip from your glass, your eyes scan the bar and land on his, already staring right at you. Your eyes widen at first at how intently his eyes bore into yours, until they soften and a crooked smile makes its way to his lips. You smile right back at him and raise your hand in a small wave. Bob’s heart beats faster as you continue to smile at him, he picks up his hand and gives a wave back. Your smile widens as you stare back into your drink.

Even in your khakis Bob thinks there is no way you could get more beautiful. He should go over and talk to you. But he thinks better of it as you’re still in your conversation with Phoenix. That is until Phoenix gets up and heads to the restroom. Oh god. This is his chance. He should take it right? No, he’ll just end up making a stuttering mess of himself like the last time he tried to have a one-on-one conversation with you. The team still held that over his head, as they only thought he was nervous to say something wrong and have you go running to tell your dad what a dumb-ass he was.

Your father of course being their Captain, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. That was its own obstacle. Other than the fact that the thought of you had him stumbling over his own words, your father was one reason why he was hesitant to approach you. You had mentioned to Phoenix before that because of this every aviator either kept their distance from you, or had made a game of trying to hook up with you. This detachment had been different this time. Everyone has been friendly to you for no other reason than to be friendly. Of course, Hangman tried his hand at you, but that was before he realized who your father was. Bob remembers it quite well. The way Hangman sidled up to you to introduce himself. Giving you his best lines, eventually asking how you got the call sign of “Mantis” only for you to stare at him and casually say, “‘Cause I’ll bite your fucking head off if you try anything”. You gave him your best smile and walked off after Hangman promptly choked on his drink.

Lost in his daydream, Bob barely notices Phoenix coming back and reclaiming her seat next to you. Another opportunity slips out of his hands. He looks back to his empty cup of peanuts and decides to call it a night, heading out without saying goodbye to anyone, not like they would notice anyway. Besides, if you ever were to take a chance on anyone in the squad why would it be him? He makes it to the front of the bar before you look up smiling, hoping to see him again, he was too far gone to see it slip from your face. You let out a dejected sigh before asking Penny to close out your tab.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #mavdad #top gun fandom

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pinkdaisies9285 · 9 months ago

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Flyboy and the Florist-6

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 632

Author's Note: It's date time!!! Don't know if I'm going fully off hiatus but I felt inspired by TWICE's new song RUSH. Definitely suggest listening to it while reading! Enjoy💜💜

You were pleasantly surprised when Bob pulled up to the San Diego Botanical Gardens. It had been a while since you had gone and you were excited to show him all your favorite plants.

“I hope this isn’t too cheesy for a first date?” he asked. His cheeks were flustered and he couldn’t look you in the eye. It was cute, this brilliant man was afraid you wouldn’t like going to a place full of the items you sell daily.

“Far from it Bob, I love coming here. It gives me a chance to think about new ways to create new bouquets,” you replied with a gentle smile on your lips. Hopefully, your answer will ease the nervous WSO. Going to the gardens always helped you clear your mind and open it to creative thought processes.

Bob hopped out of his car and walked to the passenger side to open the door for you. Him being everso the gentleman, made you impressed and feel special. Taking his hand, you hop out of the car as gracefully as you can, and you begin making your way to the entrance. When Bob got to the ticket counter, he finally dropped your hand. You hadn’t even realized that you two were holding hands all the way from the car into the building. It felt so natural that it slipped your mind that you had given him your hand.

Bob quickly got the tickets and let you lead the way. You began walking around and pointing out all your favorite flowers. The entire time Bob listened to you intently, amazed by you going on about your passion. He had a kind, soft smile, knowing that he picked a great place for the first date.

“Am I talking too much?” you asked, flustered with how fast you were talking. You must have been talking for at least 20 minutes.

“No, no. Not all at. It’s nice seeing you open up and explain your passion to me,” Bob replied with a reassuring look on his face. The look on his face made you feel like for once in your life someone was interested in you for more than just your looks. All your past partners only liked you as arm candy. Stand there and look pretty, don’t say a thing. Then again your choice of partners has been questionable, at least that’s what your friends had told you.

Quickly refocusing back on the date, you start to guide Bob to your favorite place, the gazebo. You liked sitting there watching people pass by while you clear your mind. Holding his hand again, you make your way over to your favorite bench. Both of you sit down, you don’t know what to say. You feel like you ran out of topics to talk about, ever since he started to come to see you frequently at the shop. You glance over at him and find him simply looking at you. This caught you off guard, no one had ever stared at you so intensely. He seemed to be trying to remember every single detail about your face. From your eyes to the creases from laughing. Then, slowly he began to lean in, his eyes trained on your lips.

“Can I?” was all he said once he was a centimeter away from your face.

“Please,” you simpered.

Bob took that confirmation to connect his lips to yours. It felt like time stopped. This gentle and unsure kiss he was giving, felt ten times better than any other kiss you had. This moment almost felt like it was out of a story. Sitting under a gazebo covered in flowers, kissing a man who enamored you so quickly with his shy remarks and contagious laugh. For once, you felt like everything was alright.

Tag List: @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991 @havlindzk @tgmreader @charactersimp08 @just-in-case-iloveyou @theamuz @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @3tabbiesandalab @mckenziewhite2005 @djs8891 @seitmai @kmc1989 @nervousnerdwitch @sweetwhispersofchaos

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 month ago

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Stay (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 30 Alt Prompt 10. “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...” Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick, Hangman, Bob, FloydSin, Jake's POV Summary: Jake thought he died in that alley after he was mugged. But thanks to a special someone, he pulled through. And when Bob brings him a gift more precious than his own life, Jake does what he should have done a long time ago. Word Count: 3575 TW: College AU, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confession, Hospital, Amputation, Language, Hopeful Ending Notes: Thank you to @green-socks for beta reading this for me! For @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

Part 1

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

Jake had fucked up big this time. He had realized that fact a while ago as he shoved his tongue into that random girl’s mouth while they were still in the club, but he ignored that feeling and just tried to shut his mind off for the night. Something just felt off about the way this girl had come on to him and lured him onto the dance floor, but he didn’t question it.

Twenty minutes later as he found himself laying in the back alley broken, bruised, bloody, and fucking stabbed, Jake regretted that decision.

Once he had realized what was happening, he hadn’t even tried fighting back that much. He was outnumbered and it was better to just let the five muggers and the girl he had been flirting with take what they wanted and leave him be. But all that changed the moment one of the men reached for Ty’s ring.

Jake would give them everything else he owned in this world, but they couldn’t take his brother’s ring. He wouldn’t let them. Yet there was little he could do as one of his attackers drove his fist into the fresh stab wound on Jake’s back and Jake collapsed to the ground like a ragdoll.

At that point, he began to sob. He begged with everything he had left in him for them to leave the ring but it made no difference. One of the men stood on his wrist—his boot crunching the bones and skinning Jake’s palm against the pavement—while another ripped Tyler’s ring off his finger. Jake felt as if his finger had been ripped off, the pain so intense he nearly blacked out. And as he watched his attackers gloat to his buddy and slide the ring onto his own finger, it felt like Jake had lost his brother for a second time.

He didn’t remember what happened next. Between the pain in his hand, the pain in his back, the pain in practically all of him, and the blood loss, Jake was barely able to cling to consciousness. And even if he could, the muggers had smashed his phone and he was in no condition to get to his feet to find help. What was the point of hanging on only to prolong the inevitable?

So, Jake Seresin had done something he had never once in his life done before: he gave up.

“Jake? Is that you?”

There were maybe only two or three voices in the world that could have drawn Jake back from the inky black abyss he was letting himself sink into but Bob Floyd was at the top of that list.

Forcing open his one good—well, decent—eye, Jake swallowed a few times before he managed to croak out, “B-Bob?”

From the darkness, he saw a shadowy figure walking towards him. As he got closer, Jake swore Bob looked like a goddamn angel as he approached, a soft glowing halo of light outlining his body from the light of the street. And for a moment, Jake wasn’t sure if Bob was really standing there or if this really was an angel coming to ferry him to whatever came next.

Part of him didn’t care. At least he was able to see Bob one last time, real or not. If only he had gotten the chance to tell him the truth about how he felt about him…

When Jake first met Bob, he hadn’t given him more than a cursory glance. And even once Bob began to become a constant presence in their friend group, he still remained little more than set dressing for the evening. He was so quiet and withdrawn that Jake forgot he was there half the time as he blended into the background. But he was Natasha’s roommate who she had been best friends with since their first day of college three years ago, so wherever she went, Bob tended to follow—most of the time seemingly against his will. However, he never complained or objected to the group’s plans so Jake figured he would just continue to ignore him and things would continue like normal.

But all that changed when Javy and Natasha began hooking up late last year. Soon, “Jake and Javy’s Boys Night Extravaganzas” turned into “Jake and Javy plus Natasha and Bob’s Time Together”. And Jake hated every minute of it.

As soon as they got to a club or popped in a movie at their apartment, Javy and Natasha would be all over each other leaving Jake awkwardly hanging with Bob, neither quite sure what to do. The first few times this happened, Jake either left to find some fun on his own or sat in silence as he scrolled through the apps on his phone. And Bob…Bob would just sit or stand in the same spot with his hands folded in his lap as he tried to stare anywhere but at his best friend going at it with Jake’s best friend.

Finally, one day when they all went to a bar and Javy and Natasha had already disappeared into the bathrooms, Jake’s phone died. The decision to go out that night had been a spur-of-the-moment one and he hadn’t had time to charge it or grab his power bank from the drawer on the way out. Tossing his phone onto the table with a huff, Jake glanced around the room to see what else could keep him occupied. But, unfortunately, it was early in the night and only a handful of people mulled around the space. So, Jake did the only thing he could think to do: He started a conversation with Bob.

By the end of the night, Jake was captivated by the other man.

It turned out that Bob was nothing like he had assumed. He was sweet and he was smart but, most surprising of all, once he started letting his guard down, he could snap back with barbed comments that could put Jake to shame. And Jake realized that there was so much more depth behind those wire-frame glasses than he ever imagined. When Javy and Nat returned to say they were ready to head out, Jake found he was actually sad to say goodnight to Bob.

Soon, Jake began dropping hints to Javy about inviting Natasha (and by extension, Bob) to hang out more often or to come with them when they went out. He could tell Javy was suspicious of the 180° change in attitude, but since it allowed him to spend time with Natasha without Jake throwing a fit, Javy didn’t question it. Which left Jake free to see Bob pretty much as often as he wanted without making a big deal about it. And as time went on, he found he was developing real feelings for the other man.

Jake had been with his share of men over the years. He might not advertise the fact he was pansexual, but he also didn’t try to hide it. However, he was fairly certain Bob wasn’t interested in men. In fact, Jake sometimes wondered if Bob was interested in anyone.

Which was why he was so taken aback when Bob suddenly kissed him at the big end of Spring Break party. They had been sitting together by one of the bonfires on the beach. Everyone else had either gone back into the bar or were getting busy in one of the secluded areas just over the dunes leaving the two of them completely alone. Jake turned to ask Bob something when, suddenly, his lips smashed against Jake’s.

Jake startled slightly at the unexpected kiss. But as soon as the shock wore off, he smiled against Bob’s lips and leaned into him. The kiss was clumsy and a little awkward, but it was exactly the kind of kiss he’d expect from Bob, and that made it feel perfect. Jake raised his hand to wrap around the back of Bob’s neck and draw him in—

Then Javy yelled from behind one of the dunes, asking if Jake had a condom, and the spell was broken. Bob jumped up from his seat, his face a deep red and his eyes like saucers behind his glasses. He tried to stutter out some sort of apology or explanation but before Jake could reassure him it was alright, Bob ran into the bar without another glance in Jake’s direction.

Ever since then, it felt like Bob had been avoiding him and Jake tried to give him space to figure things out. He just hoped that even if Bob realized he wasn’t interested in him in that way, they could still find a way to be friends—even if Jake desperately wanted them to be more.

But now it didn’t matter. Jake had tried to use the last of his strength as he bled out to tell Bob the truth, but he only managed a few words and a soft caress of Bob’s cheek before he finally succumbed to the darkness. Now, it was all over, he was dead, and he never got the chance to talk to Bob about the kiss or what it meant to either of them. If only—

Jake opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed.

There was a knock at the door, so soft that Jake wasn’t sure he really heard it at first. But when the person knocked again with slightly more force, Jake called out, “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaked open and out of his good eye Jake saw a pair of wire framed glasses peering at him through the crack in the door. Jake’s heart leaped in his chest and he prayed his visitor hadn’t noticed the increased beep of his heart monitor. With a wide closed-lip smile (he was still self-conscious about his missing teeth), he said, “Hey, there’s my hero. I was hoping you’d stop by.”

Pushing the door open a little further, Bob stepped into the room, a backpack thrown over his shoulder. “T-They said you’ve been awake for a few days but were just now allowed visitors. I hope it’s okay—”

“Are you kidding me?” Jake said, cutting him off. “Bobby, you saved my life. If you weren’t around that night, I’d be long dead by now. You can come visit me anytime. Hell, I’ll even give you a key to my fucking apartment if you want and you can have free reign there too. What’s mine is yours.”

A pink hue crept up Bob’s neck. “That’s not necessary. I just wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

“Like shit,” Jake chuckled, trying to brush off the worst of what he was dealing with so as to not upset Bob. “The pain meds are doing wonders though. Now if I can just charm my nurse into upping them slightly, we’d be in business.”

“I would think you’d be good at that. I don’t know many people who can resist your charm.” Bob’s face suddenly paled as he realized what he said and he quickly changed the subject. “They, uh, they weren’t allowed to tell me any details about your condition, doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. But I heard you had to have a few operations?”

Jake shifted in the bed, the smile on his face becoming even more difficult to force as he said, “Uh, yeah. Most of the damage was just stuff that has to heal on its own like bruises, cuts, my swollen eye. Plus, I’m going to have to go to a dentist about my teeth once I’m released. But, um, apparently I had some internal bleeding from the stab wound they had to patch up and, uh, then there’s this.” Jake held up his left hand to reveal the thick gauze wrapping around his hand and the gap between his middle and pinky fingers.

Bob’s face somehow went even whiter as he stared at Jake’s hand. “Oh my god, Jake. I’m so sorry.”

Jake lowered his hand with a shrug. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t your fault, was it? I guess the doctors said when those guys pulled Tyler’s ring off my finger, it caused something called—” Jake paused as he tried to remember the term the surgeon had told him “—ring avulsion? Basically, it severely internally damaged the nerves and bones and stuff to the point there was nothing they could do to save it. So snip, snip, and I guess I’ll have to figure out a new way of doing math since I can’t count to ten anymore.”

Despite Jake’s ill attempt at humor, Bob’s face was still mournful. “Jake, I-I don’t know what to say. I–Will you still be able to play football?”

“They think so,” Jake shrugged. “It’ll take a little bit of practice maybe to get used to it, but at least it wasn’t my right hand. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.”

Jake swallowed sharply as he felt a lump growing in his throat. He had already discussed all of this with the doctors, his parents, his coaches, and a few of his teammates, including Javy. They had all been supportive and encouraging and Jake had forced his smile then too. However, there was another aspect to losing his finger that he was struggling with yet hadn’t felt comfortable sharing with anyone.

However, as he looked at Bob, he found the words finally tumbling from his mouth. “I don’t even really care about the finger, you know? I’ve got nine more and it’s not like I lost a thumb or anything really important. But it’s just that much more of a reminder that Ty’s ring’s gone too.”

“I remember you telling me about Tyler and what his ring meant to you.” Bob set his backpack down on the floor. “Jake, I—”

But Jake cut him off. Now that he had finally opened the dam, he couldn’t stop the words from flooding out. “My brother was the best man I’ve ever known, and it’s been almost a decade but I still can’t believe he’s gone. He had all these plans and goals for his future and just like that, they were gone…and so was he.”

He sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “So every day, I try to be the man he never got the chance to be. I know I can never be him and that I let him down a lot but I do try. And that ring was the only thing I had left of Tyler. But now it’s been ripped from me and I…I feel like any connection I still had with him is gone too.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Bob said, his eyes bright behind his glasses. “It’s not gone.”

Jake blinked several times in quick succession. “W-what do you mean?”

Bob reached into his backpack and pulled out a small jewelry box. With a smile that stretched across his entire face, he popped open the box and Jake gasped.

The ring inside was unmistakable. After all, Jake had spent every single day of his adult life staring at the yellow gem set in the center of the gold engraved base as it sat on his finger.

Tears sprung to Jake’s eyes as he gazed at his most prized possession, the one he never imagined he’d ever see again. His voice caught in his throat, but after a few shuddering breaths, he managed to whisper, “Where did you…?”

“I knew what it meant to you, so I made sure the police knew it was one of the items stolen. Between Javy’s memory and a few pictures we found of you where it was visible, we were able to give them a pretty good idea of what it looked like. Last night, they tracked it at a pawn shop just outside LA and used footage on the security cameras to identify the muggers. They got ‘em, Jake. They got all six of them. ” Bob walked forward until he was right next to Jake and he placed the ring box on the tray in front of him. “And it’s all because of Tyler’s ring. So, see, your brother’s still looking out for you.”

Tears streamed silently down Jake’s face as he stared at the ring. He couldn’t believe he had actually gotten it back. But as much as he loved the sentiment behind Bob’s words and would treasure that thought forever, Jake knew that Tyler wasn’t the reason it was returned, that the muggers were captured, or that Jake was even still alive.

Wrapping his fingers into Bob’s t-shirt, Jake ignored the pain radiating from his stitched-up stab wound and yanked on the material. The other man was caught by surprise and fell to his knees. Before he could catch his bearings, Jake leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bob’s.

Kissing with three missing teeth was a strange experience, but Jake ignored this new sensation as he tried to make Bob feel comfortable with the kiss. He could feel how tense he was and, for a moment, Jake thought he might have misinterpreted everything between them. But then, Bob began kissing him back. Hesitantly at first, then more forcefully until Jake swore he felt some real heat in the exchange. It was just a glimpse of the Bob he knew hid beneath the shy, quiet outer shell, but the prospect of discovering more of this heated side made Jake’s heart race (a fact that his heart monitor picked up on).

Fearing this excitement may alert his nurses and lead to some unwanted visitors, Jake reluctantly pulled back. Bob’s lips seemed to chase after his for a moment, and Jake smiled.

With his face still hovering in front of Bob’s, he whispered, “I know exactly who saved me that night and got me my ring back. And I’ll never forget it.”

Releasing Bob’s shirt, Jake winced as he leaned back against his bed. In a more normal tone, he added, “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve just been wanting to kiss you again since that night during Spring Break and I thought I’d lost my chance when I was dying in that alley.”

Bob straightened his glasses, his face an adorable shade of pink as he caught his breath. “Wait, you…you wanted to…?”

“‘Course I did. I have for a long time but I wasn’t sure if you were interested in guys or not. Then, you ran off so quickly after the kiss that I thought maybe you had changed your mind or something. If that was the case, I didn’t want to push it. I figured if you were interested, you’d come back eventually.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in guys,” Bob mumbled, his head down and gaze trained on the floor. “You’re always picking up some gorgeous girl at the club—”

“Or guy. Or however they want to identify themselves. I don’t really care. I just like being with people who I have a good time with.” Jake smiled, “And I always have a good time when I’m with you, Bob.”

“Bobby.”

Jake blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Raising his head, Bob stared at Jake. “I-I like it when you call me Bobby.”

A natural, unforced smile spread across Jake’s face and he didn’t even mind it showed off the gaps in his teeth. “Good. I like it too.” He reached over and took Bob’s hand. “So, Bobby, does this mean you have a good time when you’re with me too?”

“Yeah, it does,” Bob muttered. Then, scoffing, he added, “Did you really think I was always volunteering to help you with geometry because I enjoy the Pythagorean theorem that much?”

Jake laughed. “Well…you’re full of surprises so who knows.”

“No, I might be good at it, but I hate geometry. Always have. But it meant getting to spend time with you so it was worth it.” Bob squeezed Jake’s hand gently and gave him a small smile.

“You could have just told me, you know.”

Bob rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I thought Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin— the school’s football quarterback god who is being scouted for the pro leagues and could have anyone he ever wanted—could ever possibly like me back. People like you don’t normally give people like me a second glance, and even when you did, I thought you were just doing it for Nat and Javy’s sake.”

“I admit, I was at first.” Bob’s hand began to slip from his, but Jake held firmly onto it. “However, once I got to know you, I wanted to spend every minute I could with you, even if you never liked me the same way I liked you.”

Bob leaned across the bed, his face only a few inches from Jake’s as he whispered, “And how do you like me, Jake?”

Jake licked his lips, flinching slightly as his tongue dragged across his split bottom lip, and he stared directly into Bob’s big, blue eyes. “I think you know.”

“I’m starting to figure it out.” A small smile flickered on Bob’s lips. “So, what happens now?”

Jake shrugged. “What do you want to happen now?”

“I think…” Bob’s cheeks grew pink again as his eyes dropped to Jake’s lips. But when he looked back up into Jake’s eyes, his gaze was strong and determined. “I think I’d like to kiss you again.”

Leaning forward to close the distance between them, Jake murmured, “Anything for my hero.”

Tag List: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @ohtobeleah, @hederasgarden,

@wildbornsiren, @writercole, @ryebecca, @phoenixhalliwell, @sunshineflowerchild789

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roosterforme · 6 months ago

Text

Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

---------------------------

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her.

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit.

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go."

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

-----------------------------

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

----------------------------

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later.

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously.

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes.

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

----------------------------

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there.

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

--------------------------

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #robert floyd x oc #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #covering the classics

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ohtobeleah · 2 years ago

Note

We know bob's a pleasure Dom, but bob finding out he's the only one to eat you out, he's not stopping until he at least makes you cum 3 times then finally fucking you into the mattress while whispering the sweetest most filthy things to you

Yep. This is the one ☝️ He'd be so cocky about it to. whispering a slew of sweet nothings about how good you taste. How he can't believe every guy you've been with has turned down the opportunity to taste your delectable arousal. The sweetest honey on earth.

"Gonna make you cum just by eating you out."

I think Bob would start off with you on his face. Suffocating him while you try and prop yourself up on the headboard. All he does is wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down closer to his face. His tongue working you over—like magic.

“Bob! Fuck—I’m gonna cum!” And you do, you cum hard on his face that you’ve been riding. When you try to pull away to dismount? Bob's hold on you just tightens, his eyes are looking up at you from between your thighs and he never wavers. “Fuck! No no no no—Bob I can’t—I can’t take it.” It’s the way you whine and beg him to stop that had Bob continuing. He knows he can get the coil inside you to reload. Without a shadow of a doubt. He's good at this.

“Just one more? For me sweets.” Bob cooed as you get a look at his chin. Glistening with your nectar. “Taste so good I can’t get enough.” He’s back at work before you even have a chance to breathe. Things are hot and heavy and moving so fast that there’s no time to think about anything else but the overstimulation and how fucking good it feels. "Give me just one more baby--love how you sound when you cum for me."

"Fuck! Bob, baby--Keep doing that!" It's so close, your second orgasm. Bob's coaxing it out of you expertly as he sucks and licks and pays all the attention in the world to just the right spots that drive you crazy and keep the coil tightening. "Ahhh fuck I'm cumming!" It's no surprise that Bob gets you where you need to go quickly and efficiently. Your hands are carding through his chestnut locks as you ride his face through your second high. "Oh, fuughhh--" Your body goes slack as you fall to the mattress, your whole body tingling with euphoria.

"So good for me sweetheart, now how about just one more?" Bobs smirking as he lays between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as his hands hold your pelvis down against the mattress.

"No, Bob--" You whine. "baby I can't-- I can't take it--ahh!" Your withering at his touch--his tongue like fire against your throbbing clit. so overstimulated that you can hardly breathe. "Baby!"

"No Baby, you got it, you've done so well for me already, just one more yeah? then I'm all yours." he wasn't kidding either, Bob had a job to do and that job was to get you off as many times as he could tonight. three before he even got the chance to fuck you would be his personal best. "Show me how good you can be, let me make you cry."

It felt otherworldly, one of life's biggest mysteries is how Robert Floyd got so good at easting pussy--but it was a mystery you weren't ever going to try and solve.

"Bob! Fuck! I'm so close!" It almost hurt, but it self so good--a borderline pain that you knew only Bob could have you experiencing. the end was certainly inevitable and Bob wasn't giving in until he had you right where he wanted you. A puddle in his palms as he lapped away at your core. Jaw aching, tongue throbbing. But he was willing to sacrifice the rest of his life to get you off just with oral. "Oh fuck! yes yes yes I'm cumming baby! AHHHHH---"

"Such a good girl, look at you, so pretty all fucked out just from my mouth."

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#StrictlyScandalous Robert ’Bob’ Floyd

#strictly scandalous // topgun #strictly scandalous // robert 'bob' floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #bob x reader #top gun bob

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lottesreads · 9 months ago

Text

Why Me? - Part 9

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, talk about sex, mentions of abuse, pining, forbidden relationship, jealousy, self-doubt, Hangman being a menace, talk of death, mentions of exes

Word Count: 9k (It's worth it, I promise)

Summary: After a chat with your dad, you're feeling a little better about your family situation. You still get the feeling you're being watched and try your hardest to be on your best behavior. And the time finally comes for Bob to meet Emily.

A/N: I wrote the last bit to this part MONTHS ago and I'm so excited to finally share it with y'all. Again, love the likes, comments and reblogs make me cry happy tears and I love you all!

Also, special shoutout to Tonya Harding anon, whose reaction I am always excited to see when I post. Anyway, enjoy!!

Masterlist

Bob was an idiot. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he drove home to Sylvia. Of course you would want him to go out on a date, or whatever this was. You are his friend, and friends want each other to be happy. Except, Bob knows he won’t be happy with Rachel’s friend, whatever her name was. Even as he unlocks his front door and is greeted with Sylvia running toward him, he still can’t help but feel a little sad over the thought of you. You’ve been on his mind every day since he first laid eyes on you, and he knew even then you were too good for him. There was a moment today, as he held your hand he felt the courage to say something. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would have said, but you make him feel scared and brave all at the same time. It’s hard to explain, but who would he have to explain it to anyway?

Even as he’s brushing his teeth, his thoughts wander as they usually do to you. The way your eyes light up when you give him a real smile. Not the fake ones you’ve been sporting lately. The way you were so gentle with him, and every time your hands found each others it felt so natural. So right.

Clad in just his boxers, Bob slips beneath the sheets of his bed as he sets his glasses on his nightstand. And even though he knows it’s a hard habit to break, when Sylvia jumps up to join him he doesn’t push her away. He welcomes the comfort, patting the spot next to him as she circles once, plopping down against his side once she’s sure she’s found the right spot.

The warmth takes his mind back to the night he spent in your bed. How even in your drunken state your hand was able to find his heart so easily. You didn’t need a hand to do that, though. Somehow through all of his attempts to avoid having to look at you longer than he had to, you had already found it. He could tell the minute his heart started pounding out of his chest the first time he saw you that you would get there easier than anyone else had, or probably ever will.

His eyes grow tired, and as he turns his head he can almost make out the shape of your face, your eyes reappearing underneath your lashes. A soft smile creeping from your plush lips as you stare back. Bob is quite sure he’s dreaming now as the lingering floral scent of your shampoo clouds his senses. As much as he wishes it was, it doesn’t feel real as he kisses your forehead. He can’t move, he knows if he takes any more liberties in this dream it will slip out of his fingers just like they all have before. If Bob can be with you in any way he knows it will only be in his dreams. And as much as it hurts to wake up and realize it’s not real, and there’s no way you would want him, he still allows himself to relish the moments where his brain tricks him into thinking you do. He’ll take the hurt of waking up as reality crushes his spirit just for the chance to know you in his sleep.

And now his mind remembers what it feels like to have your hands caress his face, cradle his jaw, and trace over his lips. The rushed way your lips met his cheek. Closing his eyes he can pause the memory, smell your perfume, know the way your kiss felt against his face. Your touch will fuel his dreams for years to come. He knows this to be the heartwrenching truth as the thought of you brings him to a deep sleep.

-----------------------

The drive is silent, and yet you still take the long way home. The day is finally catching up to you as you park your car in the driveway, opting to just sit in the driver’s seat, staring at the steering wheel. It’s still the same shitty little car you bought when you were 17, the heater doesn’t work, but you figured you don’t need it in San Diego. And the battery’s a little finicky, but you just keep telling yourself you’ll get a new one when you have the time. Whenever you’re not falling for people you can’t have or punching your brother- teammate. You swiftly correct yourself. If he wants a relationship that’s the only one he’s going to get from you.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been sitting in your car, contemplating your existence before you’re walking to the front door, head held low. Your brain is on autopilot, the rest of your body following. The light in the kitchen doesn’t even phase you as you lock the front door behind you, running a hand down your face as you lean against the door.

“I was wondering when you’d get home”, your head shoots up in the direction of your father’s voice coming from the kitchen table, startling you.

“Jesus christ”, you let out.

“I got back to the bar and they all told me you already left, so how did I beat you here?” Folding his arms across his chest, he raises a brow for you to answer.

“I just needed to clear my head, go for a drive.” You shrug. He hums in acknowledgement, holding your gaze, as if waiting for you to go on. His eyes fall to your hand as you rub at your forehead. “Well, I think I’m just gonna go to bed-”

“Were you going to tell me what happened to your hand?” A shaky breath leaves your body as you look down to the fading bruise, it’s a wonder he was able to see it at all anymore.

“You never asked.”

“I never noticed.” He counters.

“And whose fault is that?” You bite back. He’s at a visible loss for words as you move to the stairs, taking a few steps toward your room, “Like I told Penny, I slammed it in my car door.”

“Oh c’mon”, the slightly raised level of his voice stops you in your tracks, “Cut the crap kid. Tell me the truth.” You turn to face him as he stands, just so tired with the day and the same old bullshit you’ve been trying to swim through.

“Seems like you already know the truth, so why does it matter if I tell you?”

“Because you keep lying to me!” You know he’s not just talking about covering up what Rooster said. There’s a deep frustration within his words that goes back to when you were a kid. Lying about how you got those bruises around your wrists, even the lie you kept up for four years while you attended the academy.

“Dad, please, I really don’t feel like talking right now-“

“No. You keep avoiding me, and we’re having a conversation. Now.” It’s your turn to beg as your lip begins to wobble.

“I’ve already had a rough day and I just want to go to sleep, please dad.”

“What’s wrong?”, he asks with a much gentler tone.

“It’s nothing”, you respond, fiddling with your thumb instead of staring back at him. Sighing, he shakes his head at the ground.

“Please. Just tell me the truth. Talk to me bug.” The nickname falls softly from his lips, even if it is hard for him to say. Truth be told, he couldn’t bring himself to call you that after Carole died, he didn’t want to encroach on the Bradshaw’s nickname for you. He knows you’ve worked hard to become the independent woman that you are today, but right now all he can see is his little girl standing at the top of the stairs. It brings back memories of you as a kid, blanket in hand, waking up from a scary dream. In those instances you’d wipe at your tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes, clinging to your dad. Your eyes look tired now, just not due to lack of sleep anymore.

“There’s just a lot going on right now”, you mutter.

“You don’t have to tell me everything… I just want to make sure you’re ok, kid.” You nod at his words. There is a lot going on in your mind right now. The most recent thing involves something or rather someone you would never in a million years tell your dad about, so your mind wanders back to the root of how you got here. Why you’ve been feeling inadequate in comparison to the person who turned his back on you, not even giving you the decency to watch as he left you to drown.

“What do I have to do for you to see me the same way you do Bradley?” Your father’s shoulders visibly slump as he blinks up at you.

“It’s like he can do no wrong in your eyes. And I kind of get it. I mean he’s the product of two people you loved very much, and I… I was an accident”, Damn it. You are so sick of crying, but you try to swallow the frog in your throat to delay it anyway you can, “A regret you’re forced to live with every single day.” You’re picking at your nails again, heart beating so loud in your ears you don’t hear your dad get closer until his arms are wrapped around you. The two of you sink to take a seat on the stairs you were all too eager to run up only a minute ago. The second his arms reach around your shoulders, the tears start falling from your lash line, and you try your best to muffle your sniffling through his jacket.

“Hey, who told you that?” he gently asks, running his hand over your head in an attempt to soothe you.

“Who do you think?”, you mumble back, defeated. He sighs as he sets both hands gently on your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him.

“How could I regret you when you are the one thing that I am most proud of in my life? Huh? Screw every title and trophy, being called your dad is the greatest achievement I will ever receive.” His green eyes don’t tear away from your own, driving the sincerity of his words right through your heart.

“Do you understand that?” Nodding, you move to rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your arm.

“And about Bradley… There’s a lot that boy has and will do wrong. I was just surprised that after- hell, sixteen years he wanted a relationship with me again. I didn’t see that I was hurting you, and sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

“I thought you died, you know”, you whisper. “I thought you both did.” He holds you tighter at your remark. The harrowing moments on the Uranium mission when you had to sit in your F-18, listening to your teammates scream that your dad, and then Rooster of all people had gone down haunt your memories. Take up space that could otherwise be filled with anything else. “I was ready to forgive him. Almost losing the two of you for good made me realize I missed him more than I hated him. And now-”, you take in a deep breath, your dad going back to rubbing up and down your arm.

“You know, Goose was my brother. Blood be damned. I miss him and Carole every single day. I see them both in Bradley, but this anger- I know that comes from years of hatred and resentment he harbored towards me. I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire of all of that.”

“He did apologize to me. Multiple times. I just don’t know if this is something that I can forgive him for.” Your dad hums and gives you a nod, moving to stroke your head again.

“You don’t have to decide that right now. I think it’s up to him to show you if he really means it, and in the meantime you can let your old man try to knock some sense into him.” You huff out a small laugh through your nose.

“Has he said anything to you?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, we had a little talk on Sunday.” Furrowing your brows, you move your head to look back at his face.

“What did you say?” “Nothing that he didn’t need to hear. Someone had to remind him that’s not how you treat people, let alone your family.” You inwardly cringe at his use of the word. You know Rooster doesn’t have many blood-relatives left. A couple cousins on his mom’s side, but they’re all older and already have families of their own. You guess, in a sense, you are the only family he has left.

“I already punched him”, you mutter. Sighing once more, he turns and places a kiss to the very top of your head.

“I know you did, kid. Thanks for telling me.” You sit on the stairs a little longer, the relief of talking to him lifting a weight off of your chest. Until he speaks up again.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to me anymore, ok?”, you nod against his shoulder. “Is there anything else bothering you?” And even though you just practically told him you would tell him the truth, this is one thing you know you cannot and will not divulge to him.

“No.”

-----------------------

You’re a little nervous for work the next day. There’s not a doubt in your mind that you did the right thing by telling Bob to go on that date or whatever it is, and you’ll stick by that decision. But now you have people watching you. Rooster, even as you walk into the ready-room while Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy suit up to take to the skies, is already watching as you move to take a seat on the couch, noticeably across from Bob instead of next to him and Phoenix.

Bob looks up almost immediately as you sit, and sends a small smile your way. You do the same to him and it almost feels like before. Just pleasantries, even if you are excited to see him. God, Rooster was going to ruin your life. You’re pointedly avoiding his gaze even though you know he’s still watching. This is ok, though. You’re just going to follow Cyclone’s advice and do your job. That’s what you’re here to do.

Once the first group is done with their exercises, it’s your turn to head out along with Rooster. Your dad was adamant he was not the one who set up the pairs this time, and you immediately know this was a direct order from Cyclone. A test.

The object is to use the evasive maneuvers you’ve been practicing to avoid one Pete “Maverick” Mitchell from shooting you down. You’re walking to your jet when a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Mantis!”, Rooster calls out. You turn, holding your head high as he catches up to you. “We got this, right?” You eye his helmet as he holds it out to you. And as if the action summoned the beast himself, over Rooster’s shoulder you notice Cyclone standing in the hangar, shoulders squared as he watches the two of you get ready for takeoff. Looking back to Rooster, you knock your helmet into his.

“Right.” He nods once, trying to hide his surprise at your willingness.

Waiting in the air for your dad to make an appearance is like waiting in the eye of a storm. You know it’s coming, you just have to wait for it to pass over before all hell breaks loose.

“You see him yet?”, you ask, breaking the silence that has since formed after taking off.

“Not yet, but keep your eyes peeled, he likes to sneak up from below.” If there’s anything you know about your father, it’s that he doesn’t like to use the same tricks twice. Which is why when you look up, you’re not at all surprised at Maverick’s jet flying just above the two of you, nose diving the slightest bit as if he thinks he can catch you off guard.

“Bogie’s right above us, coming in hot, break right Rooster.” He does as you say while you break left, and your dad is left scrambling as his attempt to dive between the two of you is foiled. The two of you successfully evade Maverick for the time being, but when you’re left right next to each other and Maverick’s coming back around, you know he has to choose one of you to “shoot down”, and you know he won’t be choosing you.

“He’s coming back around Mantis”, Rooster warns. You eye his jet coming up from behind this time.

“He’s gonna go after you. When I tell you to, break left.” You watch his speed steadily increase as he gets closer and closer to the two of you, your hand twitching on the yoke of your jet. “Now Rooster!” He does as you say, and just like you planned it, Maverick follows him. Their jets fall as they get closer to the Hard Deck, and you watch Rooster start to climb back up.

“I’m leading him to you Mantis, heads up!” You follow their jets from above, waiting for Rooster to lead Maverick into your trap, and before you know it, they’re both in front of you, the shrill sound of catching tone on your dad ringing in both of your cockpits.

“Tone!”, you exclaim, “You’re out Mav.” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, even as you make your way out of the cockpit. Once you land, Rooster is waiting for you with the same look on his face.

“Now that's what I’m talking about, Mantis!”, he offers his hand in high five as the two of you walk off the tarmac, and as the adrenaline from beating your father makes its way through your veins, you take him up on the offer, slapping your hand against his.

The rest of the team in the ready-room starts clapping as the two of you walk back in. As if defeating Maverick was one of the hardest things you’d have to do. You laugh as you tap your fist against Coyote’s, the others patting you and Rooster on the back. Bob’s standing at the couch, still clapping for you as he gives you a wider smile, a seemingly proud look in his eye, like he had no doubt you could do it. You smile right back, getting the feeling he had the confidence you could the entire time.

-----------------------

When lunch rolls around the adrenaline has since worn off, leaving you a little tired. You drag yourself into the mess-hall and spot Bob at your usual table in the crowd. You hate that your head perks up at the sight, and even if you were stuck a moment ago, your feet move in his direction. You greet him with a smile, and your heart melts as he moves his lunch bag off of the seat he saved just for you. Taking a breath of relief at the routine, you take a seat. A weight is lifted off of your shoulders, Bob is a friend, a great one at that, and you don’t want to do anything to risk that. Even if you long for more, and you get butterflies every time his hand touches yours, or he gives you that same crooked smile, you just want to be around him.

“Hey, nice job today”, he says as he starts to unpack his lunch.

“Thank you. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t ask this morning, but how’s your nose?” He makes a move to touch the bridge of his nose, feeling for any sort of tenderness.

“Oh, it’s fine. I think bein’ out in the sun all day just dried me out. Made it look worse than it actually was.”

“Well hopefully we won’t need to have another mandated beach day. And maybe next time you’ll drink more water”, you comment, raising your brow at him.

“Ok”, he laughs, “I was a little distracted, next time I’ll make sure I’m chuggin’ water.” You furrow your brow with a smile as he digs into his lunch.

“What got you so distracted you forgot to drink water?” He swallows the bit of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich he just took a bite of, trying and failing to avoid your gaze.

“Oh, um-” The sound of Phoenix pulling out a chair at the table saves him from answering, as you look back to your friend. She offers you a high five and you’re quick to take it from her.

“Helluva job today, Mantis”, she says with a smirk.

“Thanks, what can I say? I am too good”, you joke as she rolls her eyes, Bob chuckling next to you.

“If you keep quoting that Texas Ken doll, you are not coming to my house on Saturday.” She says as she points her fork in your direction. Putting your hands up in a mock surrender, she switches the subject.

“Speaking of… Bob”, his head perks up, “Rachel’s excited for you to meet Emily.” Your eyes slowly flit to Bob, gauging his reaction. He swallows again before responding, if you thought any better you’d think he was nervous.

“What have you told Emily about me?”

“Just that you’re a really good friend, cute, and sweet. You know, the basics.” He lets out a light scoff.

“Yeah, well, don’t get her hopes up, too much.” At his words you lightly tap his shoulder with the back of your hand.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, you ask.

“C’mon”, he looks to you and back to Phoenix, “You tell a girl you’re settin’ her up with one of your Navy buddies and she’ll expect someone like that Texas Ken doll. Not… me.”

“Bob”, you start, almost placing a hand atop his, but ultimately deciding to land on his shoulder, “I’ve met a ton of meatheads during my time in the Navy, but you are a breath of fresh air in an otherwise tainted climate. You hear me?” His eyelashes flutter as he blinks at you. Taking a deep breath in his eyes land back on Phoenix who gives him an encouraging smile.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Phoenix’s phone starts ringing, and she smiles wider as she takes it out of her pocket, “It’s Rachel, I’ll be right back.” You go back to your food as Bob does his, or at least you try to. It’s so stupid. He’s not even yours and the thought of him seeing another woman makes your stomach ache.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”, his ocean eyes are riddled with worry as you look back at him.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”, you ask, your voice a little softer. He simply shrugs, staring back at his large hands.

“Setups like this usually don’t work out for me… They’re always expecting someone I’m not.” Your heart falls at the dejectedness in his voice. You can tell he’s had his heart broken many times after Mandy Harrison, and he doesn’t expect it to stop happening.

“Bob-”, you quickly stop yourself before calling him Bobby, “That just means those people weren’t right for you. And so what? You’ve taken chances before, that just means you’re open to the possibilities.”

“What possibilities? Feelin’ like a fool again?”

“The possibility of finding happiness in another person.” He stops arguing for a second, and again, it’s just the two of you. The table vacated except for you and Bob, your heart pounding in your head, taking over your every thought. “I don’t think wanting to be happy makes you a fool. It makes you human. And if taking this chance means you and another person end up happy, why not risk it? Who is it hurting?” You resist the urge to answer your own question. You. It’s hurting you.

“Nobody. I guess”, he responds, almost under his breath. It makes you want to double over in pain, but you resist and give him a small smile, eyeing the freckle just below his hairline as he focuses back on his lunch. He doesn’t actually eat any of it, just keeps picking up the same carrot and putting it back down until Phoenix comes back.

“Ok, well. We’re figuring out food so I need an official headcount. I know the two of you are coming, but are you still sure you want me to invite Rooster?” You’re snapped back to reality, finding Rooster across the room, eating alone again. The team still hasn’t let him back in quite yet, and while you’re thankful for the comradery, he is still a part of the squadron.

“Yeah, it’s fine”, you nod as she eyes you warily.

“Ok, I can’t promise it won’t be awkward…”, she warns.

“It’s always going to be awkward. Might as well face it head on.”

-----------------------

You’ve been to Phoenix’s cozy bungalow a few times since being reassigned, and even though the two of you have grown a lot since bunking together at the Academy, she was still the same messy roommate you knew and loved her to be. Which is why when you show up a little early to help her set stuff up on Saturday evening, you’re surprised to see it’s already tidied up, no real additional cleaning required.

“Wow”, you remark as you step foot in the kitchen, “Are you sure I’m at the right address? This is too clean to be your place.” Stopping her motions as she chops up some fruit, she fixes you with a fake glare.

“Oh haha. You here to crack jokes or help me out?” You move to step around the counter, but a screech from behind you stops you in your path.

“Mantis!” Rachel squeals, reaching to give you a hug, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“I’m so happy to be here!”, you respond in the same cadence, still a little surprised at her excitement.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I can’t wait to meet everyone else!”, she practically bounces on her feet, ginger locks swaying with her. You turn back to help Phoenix, clocking the lovestruck look on her face as she stares at her girlfriend.

“Who else have you met?”, you ask, starting to chop up fruit alongside Phoenix.

“Oh let’s see, you and Bob of course, we ran into Payback and his family at the beach, and then Rooster. But Nat tells me we’re mad at him right now?”, she cocks her head to the side, checking with her girlfriend if that’s still the case. Natasha nods, plating her already sliced strawberries.

“That’s right, but tonight we’re offering him an opportunity to redeem himself”, she responds, looking back at you. A knock comes from the door and Rachel excuses herself to answer it, leaving you and Phoenix in the kitchen. “You sure you’re gonna be alright with him here?” The voice in the back of your head tells you it’s not being around him you’re worried about, it’s being around-

“Bob!”, Rachel exclaims, “I’m so happy you’re here!” Your head shoots up to the entrance of the kitchen as Bob follows Rachel in. Your eyes are drawn to his clean-shaven face, then down to the strain of his forearm beneath the rolled up flannel he dons. A case of Dr. Pepper is clutched in his hands as he greets you and Phoenix, moving to place it in the fridge.

“You really didn’t have to bring anything”, she complains.

“I know, but mama told me to never show up to a party empty-handed.” Catching each other’s eyes, you give him a smile and turn back to your task at hand.

Before long, people are showing up, and Bob is whisked off to help rearrange some furniture to create more room for the influx of people. You’re talking to Payback, Fanboy and Bob just off to the side, when Rooster enters through the front door, a 12-pack of beer in hand that he hands off to Rachel as she greets him, noticeably without a hug. You watch as Phoenix approaches him, hands on her hips as he nods at what she’s telling him. From the way he’s attentively listening to her, you can tell she’s giving him a rundown of what she expects from him. You can make out the last of their conversation as her lips move, asking if he “got that?” He only nods in response, and you quietly smirk to yourself.

You’re talking to Fanboy now, Bob still hanging just to the right of you with Payback when you hear that same squeal from Rachel, only this time your stomach drops as she greets her friend.

“Emily!”, your eyes turn and find a stunning blonde woman hugging Rachel. You can’t help but gaze at her figure, her beautiful face and feel a little jealous. Turning back to Fanboy, you catch Bob looking your way through the corner of your eye, figuring he’s trying to get a look at Emily but you’re in the way.

“Bob!”, Phoenix calls out. You turn to find her dragging Emily over to your small group in the corner of the living room. He sets his can of Dr. Pepper on a coaster, before wiping the condensation off on his jeans. “This is Emily, Emily, this is Bob.”

“Nice to meet ya’”, he says, offering a handshake which she takes. You watch his hand engulf hers and have to tear your eyes away. It’s so stupid, but that’s the same hand that has wiped your tears away, gently comforted you, and you don’t want to be, but you’re jealous that it isn’t your hand he’s holding right now. She moves on, introducing her to the rest of the group, and you give her a polite smile and your name.

“Or you can call me Mantis”, you offer.

“Nice to meet you all”, she gives with a gorgeous smile. “Wait, Bob, what’s your call-sign?”

“Oh, it’s just Bob”, he responds with a nervous look on his face.

“Oh”, she laughs. You furrow your brows, glancing at Bob whose face is now red with embarrassment. You’re about to speak up for him, but Emily is already calling out for someone before you’re able to. “Rooster!” All of your heads turn as Rooster makes his way over, Emily immediately jumping to give him a hug.

“Wait”, you turn to Phoenix, “Do those two know each other?”

“Kind of, they met when I introduced Rooster to Rachel. It was actually his idea to set her up with Bob.” And then she takes a swig of her drink like she didn’t just drop a bomb on you. Your gaze hardens as you slowly turn back and see Emily running her hand down Rooster’s arm. That sneaky bastard had a master plan this entire time. His hazel eyes make contact with your own as you squint. He swallows and turns back to Emily who is still trying to hold his attention.

Once everyone arrives and settles in with a drink or two, a most wonderful idea to play “Never Have I Ever” is suggested by Hangman. Who has decided he’s the ringmaster of the entire party now. A few tame questions are asked, drinks are drunk, and then he has to open his stupid mouth, “Ok, never have I ever played spin the bottle.” You look around the room, leaving your drink in your hands, as pretty much everyone else takes a swig. Including Bob, who looks quite uninterested in his “date” talking Rooster’s ear off on the other side of her.

“Whoa, whoa whoa”, Hangman directs towards you, “You’re telling me you’ve never played spin the bottle?”

“Nope, but I’m not at all surprised you have.” You bite back, almost taking a swig of your drink before remembering the point of the game. Choosing to pick at the label instead.

“Alright, new game idea!” Hangman announces.

“We are NOT playing spin the bottle, this isn’t a 14-year old’s birthday party.”

“Fine then, who’s up for truth or dare?” He asks the room, eyes never leaving yours. You squint at him, suspicious of his intentions like always, as everyone else agrees to his plot. “I’ll go first”, he so graciously offers, “Mantis, truth or dare?”

“Truth”, you immediately respond, not giving him the chance to dare you what you think he’ll try to.

“You’re no fun”, he says rolling his eyes, “Fine, when was the last time you got laid?” He so casually asks as you just about spit out your drink, shock overtaking your features.

“Jesus Christ” You hear Rooster from next to Emily.

“That’s a little hard-hitting right out the gate, don’t you think?” Fanboy pipes up from across the room, still a hint of intrigue in his voice.

“It’s all part of the game, Mick. Besides, we’re adults, we’ve all had sex before. Right Mantis?” He asks, turning to you with his head tilted, as if trying to goad a response out of you. Scoffing, you glance across the room, taking note of everyone paying attention to what you have to say. Except for Rooster, who is really trying not to focus on the game right now.

“If you’re trying to insinuate something I suggest you come out and say it”, you respond, squaring your shoulders, daring him as he shrugs in your direction.

“All I’m saying is that since I’ve known you-

“A couple months” You interrupt.

“3, almost 4 months” he quickly adds, ”In that time I haven’t seen you leave the Hard Deck with anybody except good ‘ole baby on board over here. And we all know that ain’t gonna happen.” Hangman’s thumb hooks in Bob’s direction where you notice he’s begun to trace the rim on his can of soda, not giving Emily his attention while she attempts to whisper something in Rooster’s ear. You turn back to Hangman’s smug grin as he takes a swig of his own beer.

“Fine”, you relent, “You really wanna know?” His brows raise a single time, daring you to go on.

“I’m all ears”, he says, showcasing his stark white teeth as he leans back in his seat. And even though you know it’s not just Hangman listening, you’re not about to back down from a challenge. Even if it will absolutely embarass you in front of your team.

“It’s been a couple years”, You offer, immediately taking a drink so as to not meet anyone’s eyes.

“How long is a couple?” You clench your teeth, rolling your eyes until you’re staring at Hangman again.

“Five”, you mutter through your teeth, hoping he’s the only one who will hear you.

“Come again?” “It’s been 5 years” you finally confess loud enough for everyone to hear. Common looks of wide eyes and quiet whispers are shared as Phoenix gives you a knowing look. One that says, “I know exactly who the last person you slept with was.” You fix her with a stern gaze, deterring her from saying anything to you on the matter.

“Oh I heard you the first time, I was asking when you were gonna come again.” Phoenix throws a pillow at him from across the room as he laughs at his own joke.

“Alright, I need another drink” you huff out as you get up and walk into the kitchen. You can still hear the cacophony that is the dagger squad from behind the wall, but continue to look for something else to drink. Maybe something a little stronger that will help you get through the night.

-----------------------

Bob excuses himself from Emily, not even checking back to see if she heard him as he leaves the game in hopes of catching you in the kitchen. He finds you with your back toward him, fridge door open as you examine what it has to offer. He sidles up next to you, mirroring your stance of leaning on the counter behind the two of you. You have yet to say anything as he reaches into his front pocket, procuring a penny, and sliding it across the counter to your resting hand.

You smile slightly at the sound of the coin across the counter top, and finally at the feel of Bob nudging it underneath your fingertips. You sigh and look back to the fridge, Bob thinks you’re going to let it slide until you respond.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. To admit that I haven’t.. Been with anyone in a while. It’s just that I- I haven’t met anyone since that I’ve trusted enough to- do that with, I guess.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?”, he broaches the subject even as his face begins to flush a shade of pink. You huff a breath out through your nose as you begin to fiddle with the penny, smoothing the now warm object in between your fingers.

“I don’t know, I just thought by the time I reached this age I would have actually been in a meaningful relationship. Or at least had more experience to tell for it”, you hide the last sentence under a small laugh as Bob looks down at his feet. To be honest, Bob is kind of surprised you haven’t been in a relationship in that long. You are absolutely beautiful, funny, and smart, and anybody would be lucky to have you. But he isn’t about to add fuel to the fire that is your own insecurities by questioning something you’ve probably been wondering for a while.

“And it’s the same everywhere I get stationed. Just egotistical men who only want the bragging rights of fucking a captain’s daughter. Like that’s all I am to them. Not an aviator, not an officer, not a person… Just something they can use to show off as an achievement.”

There’s still noise coming from the other room, but it’s quiet between the two of you. Just the hum of the refrigerator as Bob tries to gather the words from being angry at these so-called men, or apologetic to the fact that you feel embarrassed about something you have no right to be embarrassed about.

“I think that it’s good to listen to yourself, and if you haven’t found someone you feel comfortable enough sharing that part of you with, then you shouldn’t be embarrassed. And those other guys are completely stupid if they don’t see the talented aviator and amazing person that you are.” You look back at Bob, wondering how he’s only a year older than you but so much wiser. “You are so much more than your dad. I hope you see that.”

“Thanks, Bobby”, you can’t help but let the nickname slip from your lips. There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in the small kitchen, hidden away from all the chaos that’s taking place in the other room. Until it proves too much for you and you break his gaze, clearing your throat.

“I just don’t know where Hangman gets off, asking a question like that.” Bob offers.

“Well apparently he’s getting off a lot more than I am”, you respond as Bob gives you a laugh. The skin around his eyes starts to crinkle and that’s when you know he’s actually laughing, not just trying to be nice.

“We all know he is, but I’m not so sure about his partners…” he tapers off.

“Oh my god”, you start laughing.

“Bob”, the both of you turn at Phoenix’s voice coming from the doorway, “Emily’s asking for you.”

“I highly doubt that”, Bob mutters under his breath as he turns to walk back to the living room. Phoenix stays behind as you slip the penny in your pocket, and open the fridge back up to grab a can of Dr. Pepper.

“Hey, you ok?” She asks you softly. You turn as you crack open the can, giving her a small smile.

“I’m fine, just don’t want to go back out there and have to sit through a round of truth or dare.”

“Listen, Hangman’s an idiot. And if you want to avoid any further probing I suggest choosing dare. The worst thing they're having people do is show each other’s camera roll or take a shot.” You don’t even remember the last photo you took, probably of some sunset. And you wouldn’t be totally opposed if someone had you take a shot right now. “Was the last person you were with really Lieutenant Douchebag?” You laugh at the nickname for your previous boyfriend, lovingly given to him by Phoenix, then immediately shudder at the thought.

“Yep”, you respond, taking a swig of the soda, regretting your decision to not grab something with alcohol in it. She grimaces, taking a breath in.

“You need to get laid”, she casually tells you as she grabs another drink for herself and Rachel.

“Jesus”, you laugh at her cavalier attitude, “How about we take a night and not talk about my sex life.”

“From the sounds of it, it doesn't seem like you have one” You scoff then laugh as she smiles at you. At times like this you’re grateful you met her when you did. She saved you from having a lot of lonely nights to yourself, introduced you to what a friend should and could be. “What, too far?”

“Not from you it isn’t”

As soon as you emerge from the kitchen, trailing behind Phoenix you see Bob locked in a conversation with Emily. Rooster now sits on the other side of Bob, happy from the sudden reprieve of not sharing the other man's “date”. She’s obviously trying to hook Rooster back into the conversation as Bob remains polite by listening to whatever she’s saying. You take a seat around the coffee table, staring at Bob crack a slight smile as you hear someone call out your name.

“Mantis, truth or dare?”

“Dare” It was a knee-jerk reaction, truly. Just based on Phoenix’s reasoning, it was the only response you could come up with. Ultimately, as you turn your head to the person who asked, you realize it was the wrong answer.

Your eyes grow wide as Hangman’s own stare you down, a smirk forming on his face once he realizes the power he wields over you. His eyes turn into slits, like a snake who’s finally cornered its prey.

“Oh I am going to have so much fun with this”, he responds, victorious. He grabs his bottle of beer, downing the rest of it as he makes his way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. You’re sitting on the floor in front of the t.v., as Hangman finishes his drink and ever so slowly hands you the now empty bottle.

“Now I know you’ve never played before '', you immediately cringe, resting your forehead against your denim-clad knee and let out a groan. You hear laughter sound out from around you as Coyote playfully nudges your shoulder, “So let me explain the rules. You’re gonna spin the bottle, and then you get to kiss the lucky person the neck points to.”

“You could have just dared me to kiss you if you want it that badly bagman”, you say as you move to your knees to place the bottle on the surface of the table.

“That’s just plain against the rules, and it’s not about who you kiss. I just wanna watch you squirm a little bit.” He leans back in his seat as you glance around the room, just to see who your future lips will be locking with. You make eye contact with Rooster and give him your best glare. He scratches the back of his neck and stands without wasting another second.

“I’m gonna go get another drink”, he announces while stepping over people who have begun to sit on the floor around the table.

“Oh!” Emily pipes up, “I’ll come with you!” You catch Bob watching the two of them leave the room and your heart sinks a little. You can’t help but feel a little jealous at the attention he’s been giving her, but at the same time you want someone to see him the way you do. It’s just unfair that the only person you’ve felt this way about in a very long time, happens to be the one person you’re not allowed to pursue. He’s an amazing person, and Emily would be crazy not to see what Phoenix, or Rooster, practically shoved right in front of her. You’re really starting to hate Rooster for playing with Bob’s feelings. It may be unintentional, but the reason he wanted to set him up in the first place wasn’t out of the pure kindness of his heart.

You spare another glance around the room watching as everyone tries to take up as much space as possible, making you think they’re a little too eager to kiss you. Except, it wasn’t the fact they could kiss you, it was the idea that they could brag about kissing Mav’s daughter. Just like you explained to Bob, it’s the same everywhere you go. You just thought by now it would have worn off with this group.

“Just so you know guys, if you kiss me you’re practically kissing my dad”, you tease as some of the guys grimace. A slight smirk crawls its way to your face as Omaha gets up from off the floor.

“You just ruined it for me”, he complains. Unfortunately it only thins the crowd out a little, a couple of gaps in the group that now surround the table.

Taking a deep breath you finally place your hand back on the bottle, pulling it back before spinning it. Your heart beats a little faster out of pure embarrassment as you stare intently at the bottle spinning, not wanting to look up at the faces around you until it finally… stops.

“Ho-ly shit”, Hangman lets out, so obviously amused with the outcome. “Baby on board’s about to get his first kiss.” Your eyes immediately turn to Hangman, then to Bob’s, who bears the same look of shock you know you’re not doing a great job at hiding.

“I-” the words get caught in your throat. You hate what you’re about to do as you turn back to Hangman. “Come on.” All eyes are on you as you begin to beg this man not to make you go through with it. Because once you do, you know there’s no turning back.

“C’mon what?”, he asks with intrigue.

“He’s here to meet someone, I don’t think this is a good idea”, you try to reason with him.

“That’s not really how the game works sweetheart. You spun the bottle, now you gotta deal with the consequences.”

“Hangman, please”, you beg, avoiding every gaze in the room as they begin to talk among themselves, bored with whatever show you’re putting on. His brow furrows as he realizes just how badly you do not want to do this.

“Who’d it land on?” Rooster asks as he emerges from the kitchen with a fresh drink, Emily in tow. Taking a swig, his eyes follow where the bottle points directly to Bob. “No, that’s not happening”, he mutters as he gets closer to Hangman.

“What is with you two? It’s just a game.” He replies incredulously. He glances back around the room and finds Emily awkwardly waiting at the back for Rooster’s conversation to be over. “Alright, you”, he points at her, “To level the playing field, why don’t you take a crack at it? If Emily agrees to it, then you do, too.”

“I never agreed to-”

“Ok!”, she responds a little too eager. You’re still on your knees as a confused look washes over your face. She kneels across from you at the table and barely touches the bottle, you don’t even think you’d consider it a spin, until it lands on Rooster. You’re not trying to hide the grimace on your face as she tries to play innocent.

“Oops, well it looks like it’s you and me Rooster.” Emily stands, immediately placing both hands on Rooster’s shoulders as she gives him a generous kiss. A couple of whistles are thrown out as she continues to lock lips with him, something he does not appear to be displeased with, as much as he was caught off guard to begin with.

You look away in disgust, trying and failing not to make a noise to match your mood. Your eyes fall to where Bob was just seated moments before, but his chair is empty. He’s nowhere in the room, soda abandoned. And as Emily continues sticking her tongue down Rooster’s throat, you sneak past the few hollers to slip out the back door near the kitchen.

It’s completely dark now, only the moon and strings of fairy lights casting a soft glow across the yard. You find Bob standing in the grass with his arms folded across his chest, staring up at the sky. His flannel is still rolled up to his elbows, forearms proudly on display. The moonlight reflects off of his glasses, but you can still see the turmoil swirling behind his frames. The sound of the door sliding shut doesn’t deter Bob from moving from his position.

“There you are, I was worried you left the premises”, you try to joke, moving to stand closer. He turns, only giving you a slight glance. It stops you from moving forward anymore, deciding to stay back at the edge of the patio. Humming in acknowledgement, he stares back up at the sky, face contorting as if it pains him to do so.

“Nah, just needed some fresh air is all. What are you doin’ out here?”, he asks in an indifferent tone. You tear your eyes away from the sky to look over at him again. He huffs out a sigh as you retreat your gaze to your feet, toying with a loose piece of cement.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry”, you offer. He gives a small laugh as he turns his face to look at the grass beneath his shoes.

“For what?”

“Emily’s a complete idiot.” He releases a breath out of his nose, moving his gaze to the fence bordering the neighbor’s yard.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.” You can still tell he’s upset by the way he squares his jaw.

“Well you shouldn’t be.”

“Well I am”, he lets out a little more stern this time. “I just- I don’t know Mantis.”

“What?”, you ask him quietly as he begins to shuffle the grass underneath his feet.

“I know that I’m not wanted, or not attractive like the other guys in there. But tonight really solidified that for me.” Your heart breaks as you watch him sort his thoughts out.

“Bob, that’s not true-”

“It is, though. I didn’t even want to come here tonight, and you knew that. And- and Phoenix knew it, too. But still, you two pushed me to come and meet Emily. Someone she insisted was perfect for me. Well, she took one look at Rooster and saw what everyone else sees. There are a million more guys out there who are better looking, better at making conversation, better at… everything than me.” His voice is dejected, believing everything he’s telling you. But you let him continue, even if you want to contradict every word that continues to fall from his mouth.

“And I hate the fact that I wasn’t even interested in meeting someone new. That I’m already thinkin’ about someone else most of the time, and she doesn’t even see me in that way, even if she could.” Your heart tightens in your chest, at first due to the fact that Bob has feelings for someone else. And then it hits you. ‘If she could’.

“Wait, Bob-” you manage to breathe out before he interrupts you.

“It’s just- I haven’t felt this way about someone since, well, ever.” He turns, facing you fully, a glassy look in his eyes as he stares at you, exasperated. “I feel so connected, and drawn to you Mantis.” He confesses in a whisper. You feel it the moment your heartbeat quickens with your breathing. The way your eyebrows draw up in the middle is met with the slightest quiver in your lip. From sadness or relief you’re not sure yet. “I want to tell you things I’ve never told anybody before, and I’m sorry if I misread things, but I just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Bob-” You try as he interrupts you again, caught up in his own feelings to hear you for once.

“I know you don’t feel the same way, and why would you? I’m just me, and you’re you. I wasn’t lying when I said any guy would be so lucky to have you, and I’m honored to just be considered your friend. And I- I know this is against so many rules in place, so please just forget I said anything and- God I’m such an idiot.” Your feet are moving faster than your brain as you walk over to him. Placing both hands on his smooth cheeks, you lift his head from where he was staring at the ground and plant your lips right on his. He’s shocked at first, not daring to move. Eyes fluttering shut as his hands ghost over your waist, until you pull away and there’s the tiniest amount of space between your faces.

Your hands are still as the rest of your body buzzes in anticipation. Your chest heaves against his, out of breath from the simplest of kisses. He’s so close, yet so far away as your fingers adjust to the feeling of holding his face in both of your hands. It’s quiet, his eyelashes fluttering as he starts to blink rapidly.

“Why did you do that?”, he whispers. Almost afraid that this was another dream he would inevitably wake up from.

“Because I wanted to”, you whisper right back, still in shock of what he confessed. Your eyes dart between his own deep blue ones as they’re blown wide.

“Not because of the dare?”

“No”, you shake your head. “Just cause I really wanted to.” You reassure him as his eyes flick from yours black down to your lips. His cold nose nudges yours, once, then twice before sinking into your cheek as he hesitantly kisses you first this time. You reciprocate immediately, pushing back just as softly against his lips as to not scare him off. His touch is gentle, yet demanding, knowing in the back of both of your heads it’s only a matter of time before someone comes to find you.

Both sets of lips part the tiniest bit as you turn your head slightly to get a better angle. His mouth is warm against your own, lips still moving in sync. One of your hands slides down to his shoulder while the other eases up onto his neck, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head. Bob hums against your lips at the motion, gaining the confidence to step closer as his hands finally land against your body, anchoring to your waist.

His grip tightens a fraction as you hum against his mouth, giving him the courage to lick at the seam of your lips with his tongue. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the movement, eliciting another hum, bordering on a moan as you allow him entrance into your mouth. The first thing you notice is that he tastes like Dr. Pepper, the second thing that's a little easier to pick up on is that Bob is a really good kisser.

The shock that you are in fact kissing Bob wears off, and makes way for a flood of need. Caressing his tongue with your own, Bob slides one hand to your back, the other still gripping your waist as he holds you closer. The slight pressure of his large hand pushing you against him has you wanting more as he begins to walk you backwards to the wall of the house. Never breaking away from each other, you feel the cool structure against your back, even as Bob tries his best to keep you from hitting it. You grip him a fraction harder, the only sound you can hear through your heartbeat is Bob’s occasional hum and the clicking of your lips working together.

Bob’s got you locked against him as you shift your hand from his shoulder to his bicep, squeezing the large muscle, only to slowly drag it down to feel the bare skin and hair of his forearm beneath your fingers. The kissing is slowing down, still just as deep. Both of you demanding the same amount from the other, knowing this well may be the only time you’re able to feel the other like this. The two of you finally break apart, catching much needed breaths as your eyes remain closed. Even before opening your eyes, you can still feel Bob heaving against you, desperate for air as you do the same. You place a chaste kiss on his lips and he chases yours for another until you both open your eyes, just staring at each other through hooded lids.

You swallow, so many emotions running through your mind. It’s hard to listen to them when Bob is still just as close as he was a moment ago when his lips were against yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while”, he breathes, a nervous smile tugging on his lips.

At a loss for words, you go to open your mouth until you hear the screech of the sliding glass door opening up. Bob immediately jumps away from you as your attention diverts to whoever is about to walk out on you two in such a compromising situation.

Phoenix pokes her head out as she looks for you, “Hey.”

“Hey” you breathe out in a sigh of relief, grateful it was her and not anyone else. You try to slow your breathing even as your heart threatens to leap out of your chest.

“Have you seen Floyd?”

“Yeah he was just-”, you turn around, expecting to see Bob standing behind you, but only see the white fence, “He just left”, you mutter. Brows furrowing as your eyes remain locked on where he just was.

“Damn, I was hoping that wasn’t the case. I need to talk to him.” You continue to stare at the fence where Bob once stood, dumbfounded that he managed to slip away so quickly. “You ok?” Turning back around, you attempt to gather yourself as you breathe out an answer.

“Yeah”

“Alright”, she eyes you skeptically, “Well, you gonna rejoin us? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to.”

“No, I’ll be back in, I just… need some air.” You watch her head disappear as you lean back against the house, only this time, Bob isn’t here to hold you to it. Your fingers trace your swollen lips as you gaze around the backyard. What the hell just happened?

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