#bobby kennedy rpf

[k3nnedycamel0t]

i have a little something i wanna post later w/ jfk but other than that i'm running low on ideas and these FREAKS are plaguing my mind...

[melancholicstation]

pov: you're a break-out film star in the 70s and meet bobby at a palm springs soirée

[ddlydevotion]

random bobby kennedy headcanons ₊˚ෆˎˊ˗

currently listening to: Big Girls Don’t Cry by Frankie Valli

if the two of you met during his college years, I imagine that he first spotted you in the vast Harvard library. He didn't even know whether you were a student or simply doing some extensive research, but he made it his life's mission to speak to you. His hands were clammy and his throat felt as if it had been sewn shut but he knew he'd never forgive himself if he were to let you slip away. He took it upon himself to sit in the seat right in front of you, and ask about the book that you were focused on finishing. He stumbled over his words and his shifty eyes made his anxiety even more evident, but that didn't stop him from making his interest in you very clear.

He adores mindlessly playing with your hair. He'll loop your hair around his finger, creating make-shift curls. If your hair is already curly (like mine), get ready to look like a Chia Pet because he's constantly going to be looping his fingers through your hair.

He gets soso worried when you don't immediately answer the phone when he calls from the office. The only reason as to why you don't answer is because you're catching up on some sleep, and he knows that but that still doesn't stop him from worrying. He's just so in love (to the point where it's obsessive) he can't help it.

His eye contact is very intense. It took him awhile to make direct eye contact with you because of how nervous he'd get around you, but once he finally did? oh my. You constantly tell him about your love for his eyes because how could you not? He's over here looking like Duchess from The Aristocats and expects you to be casual about it.

The two of you have definitely had a conversation just like this over his eyes.

He's extremely protective over you so he watches you like a hawk.

makes a 'come here' motion with his hand whenever he sees you with fruit in hand since he always peels your fruits for you.

This man is all about your pleasure when it comes to the bedroom. Even when you're doing something to service him, he's reaching to grab your free hand while looking into your eyes to make sure that although you are on your knees for him, you're still enjoying yourself. He's also as gentle as anyone can be, I cannot see him as the type of man to degrade you during sex. Sure, he'll softly tease you about your eagerness or your flushed face but he'd never be able to get himself to degrade you.

It doesn't matter how many times the two of you have gotten together, he practically shakes with excitement once he manages to unbutton your entire blouse and catch a glimpse of what's underneath. Yes, he's seen you naked dozens of times before but it'll always be special to him. It'll always feel as sacred as the first time he caressed the inside of your thighs.

reads lines from books/certain poems that remind him of you. He'll even show you songs that remind him of you because of their lovely melody and smitten lyrics. He'll find a song that makes him think of you and has it spin on the record player for hoursss.

"listen to this right here, honey, this reminded me of you."

He strikes me as the type of boyfriend/husband to massage your feet after a long day. (don't even try to argue with me I've made up my mind!!)

okay, I cannot find the specific clip, but I’m sure you’ve seen the video of little bobby in London (circa. 1938) where he says, “I was so excited I could hardly sleep last night!” Once you saw that footage you couldn’t stop yourself from quoting him, and he’d always get so flushed in the face before letting out a breathy laugh.

I think about that video every day by the way.

he’d understand if you were hesitant towards accepting the offer, but he’d definitely want you to be a homemaker. Even if the two of you didn’t have children, he’d love for you to occupy your time looking after the house and focusing on things that are of importance to you. Being able to provide for you is something he takes immense pride in.

fawn over photos of him playing basketball during his college days and watch him try to keep his composure.

The two of you have frequent beach days together and they always end with him gradually becoming more and more touchy.

he’s so proud of absolutely everything that you do and will talk anybody’s ear off about your achievements. There’s so many photos/videos of him looking at you as if you created life itself. His eyes are filled with such strong devotion it makes onlookers yearn for the type of love the two of you share.

he has such a strong sense of humor and loves joking around with you. Take this for example:

taglist: @fortheloveofjos @divinedelusional @bobbykennedyswife @romanticismboop @tomriddlethefinest

a/n: let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! I have more fics coming out soon so I’m very excited about that 💌🌷.

[theverystrangegirl27]

ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ

Let Me Put My Lips To Somethin'

Summary: Bobby wants to try something new, but you're a little hesitant. With a few reassurances, Bobby shows you how much he adores you.

Warnings: smut, oral (f), face sitting, oral sex

"Bobby, what if I suffocate you or something?”

You're straddling your husband, hands on his naked chest as you eye him warily. Bobby's propped up on one of your silk pillows, looking up at you like you hung the moon.

You want him so badly.

“You won't, Y/N, really,” Bobby says, running soothing circles into your thighs. “And besides, would it be such a horrible way to go?”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“You're a fool, Bobby.”

He smiles into the next kiss, big hands sliding up your waist.

“Only for you.”

You melt into the kiss, a little dazed with arousal as you rock forward against him. You slide your sopping pussy up against the hard line of his cock, the both of you sighing at the contact. With a hand on your back, he stills you.

“C'mon, honey.” Bobby says, sounding reverent. “Sit on my face. Let me make you feel good.”

Who are you to refuse him?

Bobby keeps a firm grip on your waist as you shuffle forward, biting your lip and blushing pink as he gets an eye full of your bare, flushed cunt.

Once your thighs are around his head, he kisses the inside of one, eyes meeting yours before he taps your hip.

“Come on, pretty girl.”

With a shuddering breath, you lower yourself, Bobby's lips finding the plush skin of your folds. You gasp as his tongue darts out to lap at you softly, and you grip the headboard as his hands tighten around your waist.

“B-Bobby,” You sigh, eyebrows scrunched together as he guides your hips, a muffled sound of pleasure leaving him as he begins to tease your clit.

One of the things you love the most about your husband is his determination, how eager he is to achieve whichever goal he's got set at the moment.

Right now, he seems to be set on making you come so hard your legs give out.

With firm, thorough licks and the slight tease of his fingers, Bobby has you crying out softly. You throw your head back, eyes shut tightly as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

You roll your hips, unable to stop yourself as the pleasure grows and grows inside of you.

Beneath you, Bobby groans, muffled and unashamed as he eats you out with enthusiasm, like this is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life.

You don't know where to put your hands - you grasp the headboard, nails scratching into the dark wood, then you run another through his hair. Overwhelmed, your thighs start to tremble.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, and Bobby pulls you in by the waist, shuffling you closer like he can't get enough.

It's almost too much. The way his hot, wet tongue feels against the softness of your cunt, how his eyes are closed as if in prayer- you are the altar at which Bobby worships, what he gladly falls to his knees for almost every night.

Your heart swells as the pleasure reaches its peak.

“Bobby, Bobby, I'm gonna come-” You whimper, trying your best to control the bucking of your hips, but with his tongue as sinful as it is, you never stood a chance.

The noises that fill the room are wet, downright obscene as his lips and tongue go to work on you. They never halt nor falter as he picks up the pace with his fingers. The tips of them enter you with slow, precise movements that make you feel hot and melting on the inside.

If Bobby wasn't gripping you so tightly, you feel as though you'd float away.

Another thing about your man is that's he's a generous lover- you know this isn't going to be your only orgasm of the night, so when it hits you, you let it wash over you in intense, earth shattering waves, with the knowledge that you won't be leaving this room until he's left you nothing more than a puddle of liquid pleasure.

“Bobby! ” You whisper-shout, not wanting to wake the kids in the next room.

You hang your head between your arms, hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles are white. Bobby's got his fingers deep inside you, hitting that spot that makes your mouth tremble open around shaking gasps.

Eventually, when it becomes too much to handle, you lean back. His mouth seems to chase the movement, and you smile stupidly.

Bobby's eyes are glimmering and dazed, mouth and the tip of his nose wet. He pants, licking his lips to catch your essence on his tongue.

You love how crazy you make each other.

When his eyes find yours, he smiles.

“Told you I'd make you feel good.”

You huff a breathless laugh, and he kisses the inside of your thigh.

“Once I catch my breath,” you tell him, starting to shuffle down his body slowly. “I'm gonna make you see stars, Senator.”

His eyes darken with arousal.

“I'm looking at one right now, I think.” Bobby's hand comes up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and you smile before kissing your way down his body.

With one hand, you grasp his cock, delighting in the slight hiss he lets out as you gently stroke him. You glance up at Bobby as you tease the tip with your lips, his gaze fixed on yours, and you smile as you take him into your mouth.

The night is far from over, and you feel like repaying your loving husband over, over, and over again.

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

Unexpected (how a punch can turn into a meet-cute)

pairing: robert f kennedy x oc (ava worthing synopsis: It was an unexpected turn for Robert when Ethel chose God over him and left their relationship to join a convent. He understood her to some measurement as a Catholic, yet a part of him thought he had found the one. He decided to dedicate himself not to God but help his older brother on his growing political and government career.  So, in 1949, even with a broken heart he went on with his studies at the University of Virginia. He made a few good friends and befriended Alec Worthing, whose younger sister he ended up meeting in 1958 at a campaign celebration party for Jack after he was re-elected to the Senate after winning against Republican lawyer Vincent J. Celeste.  warnings: age gap (around 12 years), no smut (if that's even a warning?), a single punch, harassment, bruised knuckles, swearing. notes: this is an rpf and not based on any fact, just delusional daydreams from this gal.

1958 - 4th of November, Boston, MA

“Now, Bobby, my kid sister’s a bit of nuisance. She breathes poetry and reads too much. Ignore her enthusiasm, it’s her first campaign party.” Alec said sipping champagne from a plastic cup as he and Bobby watch the celebrations. Jack was dancing with Jackie. “She’s freshly 21 and wants everyone to know it and...” Alec got distracted when a redheaded campaign aid came to them and asked him for a turn on the dance floor. Flushed, Alec nodded and left Bobby behind.  

Bobby leaned on the back wall smoking a cigar and already thinking of having to soon return to the Senate Rackets Committee where he was chief counsel. He was in deep thought while his eyes wandered around the busy and joyful room. His sight then fixed on a young woman who he had never met before and who seemed to be having some issues with a campaign aid in a corner of the large office space were the campaign office was. The male aid stood close to her; he saw her squirm and so Bobby made his way towards her and the man towering over her.  

As he was nearing, he stopped when the woman decked the man and pushed out into the hallway outside the main room. Bobby made a mental note to have that man taken off the management team. 

Was she alright? 

He decided to find out and saw her in the empty hallway and saw her hold her right hand. She hadn’t noticed him. Music and the warm light crept into the dark hallway where only a single window brought in moonlight. The light bounced back on her blonde hair and light blue dress. She heard his footsteps, and her body went frigid. 

Looking at him standing a few feet away from her. “Are you...his friend?” She asked, her voice steadier than Bobby had expected.  

“No.” he said.  

She nodded her head slowly, “How much did you see?” 

“I saw you punch him.” 

She muttered under her breath a soft “shit!” while clutching her right hand. “Did anyone else notice?” 

Bobby shook his head ‘no’. “I don’t think so. Can I come closer?”  

She took a step back. “Why?” 

“To see if your hand's alright.” 

“You won’t try anything?” 

“I don’t want to take my chances. I saw what you did to the last guy.” He tried to joke but saw her expression not change. “I won’t try anything. I promise.” 

She looked at him skeptically but walked towards him. “It doesn’t hurt that much.” She showed him her hand, her knuckles bruised with blue and purple. 

“How hard did you hit him?” He asked gently touching her hand avoiding the bruise. 

She shrugged, “Harder than I thought.” 

“You should get some ice on it. Sit here, I’ll bring you some.” He gestured for her to sit down on one of the benches in the hallway.  

She looked apprehensive. “What if he finds me? Can’t I come with you?” 

Robert nodded and led her to the staff kitchen where there was ice kept in the freezer. He turned on the light and the young woman jumped onto the counter and looked at him as he found a dish towel and wrapped it around a handful of ice.  

He put it onto her knuckles holding it place. “You should hold it on for a while.”  

She nodded and placed her hand on the cloth as he removed his. He put some distance between them. Several beats of silence later. 

The woman broke it: “What’s your name? I’d like to know who to send a thank you card to.” 

“Robert Kennedy.”  He spoke. A look of recognition passed her face. Her eyes widened in a quite almost cartoonish way. 

“Kennedy? I should’ve known.” She said, and for the first time he saw her smile and laugh, “My friends will lose their minds when I tell them Bobby Kennedy put ice on my hand.” Her expression then changed. “You went to UV with my brother, right?” 

Now it was Robert’s turn to look surprised. “You’re Alec’s kid sister?” 

“That’s me. Ava Worthing.” She said before scoffing, “Though I’m not much of kid anymore, I’m senior at Vassar and much more mature than he can give me credit.” 

And so, they talked without noticing the passage of time. It was simple for both, to move from topic to topic. It was strange how easy it was. They hardly knew anything about each other and somehow, they clicked into place. 

She was curious about politics and about what was happening in the courts with the Teamsters. Robert showed his passionate side and found himself enthralled at how she kept up with him. She told him about her own interests and that she wanted to be a writer and to better the world in any way she could. 

End (for now...)

///

Taglist: @jackiesgirl, @theverystrangegirl27, @fortheloveofjos, @kennediva, @stargiirl27

masterlist and future parts: Unthinkable, Unadvised.

[kennedyism]

(last bobby confession anon)

i would GLADLY take a fanfic (x reader or no) about that, if you would be so willing 🙏

I GOT YOU ANON!!!!

Favoritism.

Bobby Kennedy x Secretary!Reader

Summary: You’ve been a secretary for Bobby for quite awhile, but you’re thinking about quitting. What does the senator have to say about that? (Takes place in 1967)

Warnings: Don’t take this fic seriously, this is mainly just for fun. Don’t come for me lol.

Taglist: @quietamericans @jackiesgirl @obsessedwithjohnjr, @fortheloveofjos, @melancholicstation, @rocker-chick-7, @bleatngheart (tell me if u wanna be in my taglist dm me or send it in my inbox and i’ll add you! sorry if i forgot anyone :()

author’s note: slightly inspired by the song favorite by isabel larosa ITS SUCH A GOOD SONG BRO

Bobby sits in his swivel chair, tapping his fingers on his wooden desk, he then sighs. It’s too late for him to be here, but here he is! He then looks at the box of campaign posters next to him. God, he looks awful in them, but then he remembers the moment his secretary brought them to him.

“Senator Kennedy, I got those posters you ordered.”

“Open them up, lemme see.”

He then opened the box.

“Christ, is this how I look to people? Get these out of here.”

“They’re not that bad, Senator. I think they’re rather nice.”

He kept them obviously. He’ll get used to them. He then looks at the clock, listening to it tick. The senator is then taken from his train of thought when there’s a knock on the door. “Come in!” He says, straightening himself up in his chair, but he puts his feet on the desk which makes it more of a casual appearance. It’s a bad habit, really.

You then walk in, your purse in hand and hat on your head. “Senator, I’m heading out for the night, but can I talk to you about something?” You ask, leaning in the doorway, looking at him. Being Bobby Kennedy’s secretary is amazing. He’s a great boss, but you don’t get home until late, you hardly have time for your own life… it’s time to resign, as much as that hurts you.

Bobby motions for you to sit down. “Yeah, what is it?” He asks, looking at his shoes on his desk, then you. Perhaps he shouldn’t sit like this in front of a lady. That doesn’t cross his mind until a few seconds later and with that, his feet are the floor and he folds his hands in front of him.

“I want to quit.”

You feel the silence strike you two for about 30 seconds before you begin to talk again, realizing how much you probably just offended the senator. “Not—Not because you’ve done anything!” You say, a blush painting you cheeks, trying to find the words as he stares at you a bit confused.

“I didn’t think I did.” Bobby shrugs. He still acts like he did when he was attorney general—a bit cold. He doesn’t mean to, it just his nature. He then sighs, growing more confused. He tries to think on the reasons you would even want to quit. “Is there a reason why?” He asks you, getting more comfortable in his chair, his foot tapping the wood underneath.

You then take in a breath. “I don’t have time for anything else but being here. I’m constantly having to turn down friends and family to be here.” You explain with a soft sigh, then you look at him. “I just think there’s better opportunities out there for me.” You finish, feeling a bit guilty. It’s been amazing here, but you have a life… kind of. You then look at Bobby who’s silent for about couple seconds.

“I’m not going to hold it against you.” He says, rubbing his temple, before looking up at you with a slight smile. “I can understand how that can get in the way.” He says, but he’s truly a bit sad that you’re leaving him. He’s never had anyone like you. Work wise and friend wise.

You then click your tongue. “Well, there’s plenty of others wanting to work for you and they would kill to, you know.” You tell him, staring to slowly wonder if this is the right choice—Nope! It is. No turning back now. You then watch his lips curl into a slight smile.

“Yeah, but you are my favorite.”

Favorite.

That word leaves an indent on in your soul. He called you his favorite. You then blink, trying to shake it off. “Senator, I just… I want to stay here, but I can’t.” You tell him, his sentence playing over and over in your mind. How does he do it? He leaves such an impression on others… you included.

Bobby stands up, going behind you, one of his hands touching the arm of the chair. “I want you to stay.” He says, looking down at you, and you look back up at him. Wow, what a view. He then moves over to the door, opening it. “But I can’t force you to stay.” He sighs, feeling defeated as he crosses his arms and waits for you to stand up.

You then stand up, purse in hand, walking towards the door, looking at the senator. Both of your eyes meeting. You watch Bobby put his hand on the frame, looking at you, and you feel guilty. You don’t want to leave him. You’ve had many great memories, but it’s for the best.

“Still gonna visit me, right?”

“Senator, I’m not moving to Europe, obviously I will.”

“Just thought I’d check.”

You two then stare at each other. Bobby has very pretty eyes. They’re so gentle to look into. It unfortunately has to be this way though. Bobby then reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder, looking at the ground, then back at you. You’ve always felt somewhat of an attraction to the senator, even if you’d rather die than admit it, but he isn’t making this easy at all.

You then feel yourself getting closer to him, and he isn’t moving, so you assume he’s into this. You then kiss him, softly and then you feel his hands move up to cup your cheeks, leaving soft feather like touches on your skin. You truly are his favorite.

“I told you were my favorite.” Bobby mutters to you, gently pulling away, looking at you. Then he moves some of your hair out of your face. His touch is lovely to witness and bear. You feel lucky to receive such touch from him.

“I wanna keep being your favorite.”

“So you’re gonna stay?”

“I’m gonna stay.”

[strryhaze]

as a wise person once said, “shipping real people is a disease.”

[ “a disease that i have.” ]

[h-l-vlovesvintage]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Political RPF - US 20th c., Historical RPF Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robert F. Kennedy/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Robert F. Kennedy, John F. Kennedy, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. (1888-1969), Eunice Kennedy Shriver, Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Kennedy Family (US Political RPF) Additional Tags: Age Difference, Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1960s Series: Part 2 of Kennedy RPF's (JFK, Jackie O, RFK) Summary:

It was an unexpected turn for Robert when Ethel chose God over him and left their relationship to join a convent. He understood her to some measurement as a Catholic, yet a part of him thought he had found the one. He decided to dedicate himself not to God but help his older brother on his growing political and government career.

So, in 1949, even with a broken heart he went on with his studies at the University of Virginia. He made a few good friends and befriended Alec Worthing, whose younger sister he ended up meeting in 1958 at a campaign celebration party for Jack after he was re-elected to the Senate after winning against Republican lawyer Vincent J. Celeste. 

[vintagedebutante]

i miss President/Kennedy confessions blog posts on my dash so for christmas PLS send ur wildest kennedy confessions to me and I’ll publish them without my added opinion in response hehe

18+ !! pls feel free to be as spicy as u want

I don’t judge

[k3nnedycamel0t]

bobby kennedy eating reader theough her panties and he refuses to take them off bc hotness

he’s def a panty stealerrrr

oh i am feeling things anon. my god. 18+ below the cut ty.

thinking college era, very repressed and catholic bobby. you're his first real girlfriend and he just can't resist! maybe it all started with him stealing your panties, not that you even wanted to call him out on it at first. during study dates, or whenever he'd just come over to your house, you'd start noticing them going missing. your underwear drawer would be left open, or even worse, they'd be missing from your laundry hamper.

confronting him about it and watching him get all choked up, cheeks burning red. he can't help but be embarrassed, especially as you're sitting on his bed and there's a pair of your panties with a mysterious stain on them right under his pillow. he couldn't help himself, late at night with his nose buried right in the middle of your panties. course he'd never admit it, but it was even better if he got them from your dirty laundry. it was like you were right there in front of him. he'd only stroke himself with them right when he's about to finish, making sure it's all absorbed in the pretty fabric.

that's when the loophole really began. you both had already agreed on the whole dry humping loophole, agreeing that if you both went to mass it didn't matter. it's not like either of you were losing your virginity, not before getting married. as much as bobby loved doing that, the panties had only fueled his selfish desires. surprisingly, he brought the idea up to you. making out on his bed, his hands buried in your hair and yours gripping the collar of his polo shirt. it was a spur of the moment suggestion, something he hadn't entirely thought through. a mumble against your lips 'can i try something?'. you were hesitant, but that soft furrow of his eyebrows was all the convincing you needed.

it all happened so fast. your head nestled against the soft fabric of his pillow, skirt pushed up around your waist, a pair of panties that bobby had somehow not managed to steal adorning your body. a small bow at the top that made his hips jerk involuntarily. it was your turn to tangle your hand in his hair, bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you tried desperately to hold back any noises. he was greedy, sloppy. tongue lapping at the growing wet spot on your panties, sucking the silk material between his lips. it was a version of bobby you'd never seen before - ruthless, even. selfish and greedy, like he was doing this for his own pleasure and not yours (not that it didn't feel amazing, even with the sensation dulled). he had to hold your hips down to keep you from squirming away. you orgasmed almost embarrassingly quick, getting overstimulated and shoving his head away.

as you both lay there silently, legs intertwined and his hands running through your hair, you both wondered how many hail marys would make up for that.

this was supposed to be short. i yapped. !!!!!!

[melancholicstation]

Salvatore can wait, now it's time to eat soft ice cream — bobby f. kennedy

As Jack's wife many may propose your sex life to be exuberant and quite frequent: in reality it's nothing of the sort. After having your beautiful baby-girl Enya, you'd expressed fears and insecurities of being intimate about your new post-baby body with Jack to which he kindly dismissed them telling you that he loved you even more now. While hearing those words from a man you've loved half your life warmed your heart his sentiments fail to quell your fears. However, what sets you free from all your present worries and gives you release is in fact his own brother and your brother in-law: Robert.

taglist: @vile-harlot @dulcegal @rockstarfreddybby @starsprangledgirl @bluelancergirl @hisamericanmuse @violetharmonsfavgf @vampyiricris @rocker-chick-7 @reptaysgf @castiellover77 @salvatoresablondie @mckinleygirl98 @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @monturi @darcyspirits @unmarlou @remotewatch @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @fortheloveofjos @strip-weather-forecast @ultr4v1ol3nt @acrowdedstreetin1944

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, postpartum insecurities, possible inaccuracies to do with pregnancy and postpartum as i have never been pregnant before, infidelity, nipple play, desperate catholic man, unprotected sex, drunk sex, fingering, being eaten out, 18+

words: 2,950 words

It was a quiet morning for you. A statement that you could rarely ever leave your mouth truthfully due to your residence being that big egg-shell coloured house located at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington—or how it's more commonly referred to as the White House. But you weren't in the White House, no, you for now were in the land of fado, wine, and poetry: Portugal.

Taking advantage of the barren land in your calendar managed by your assistant spacing between the 21st and the 28th you had decided to go visit your sorority sister, Alma, and her sprawling Lisboa estate 'Quinta da Abrigada'—or at least that's what she'd called it in her letters inviting you to the country house. You'd been initially apprehensive, a cross-country flight with a 6 month old baby seemed to be a recipe for complete and total disaster. Not to mention the press coverage, nit-picking your choices labelling you as an unfit mother, while hailing Jack as the dotting husband and father. Which he was, though that was when he was there which proved to be scarce.

Despite this worry of yours the person who truly convinced you was not Alma herself and her gushing about the residencies sparkling woods and breathing taking views of the Serra do Montejunto. In fact it was your very own tousled hair, chiseled jaw, president of the United States husband: Jack.

Apparently, in his astute opinion, he believed that some time away from the unrelenting US press and the ever thinning tightrope of public opinion would be good for you and the baby. Initially you'd worried that it would be to distressing for your little Enya to be away from her father that much for more than a couple days—you swore that you'd read a dreadful story in women's weekly of a baby forgetting the face of one of their own parent! You retold this story to Jack to which he only chuckled, and delicately cupped your face teasingly tapping the tip of your nose. In response to this he'd told you that once he'd finished up scheduled business in Palm Beach that he'd fly to Lisboa on the SAM 26000 Boeing. That was on the night before the 21st, and after listening to your husband you'd confirmed with Alma that you were in fact coming.

However it was now the 24th and Jack still hadn't shown up, and you were given no indication that he was ever going to.

Your melancholy about your marital situation was intermittently interrupted for a few days by Alma keeping you an incredibly busy working woman. You see, she was trying to convert the Portuguese country home into a fully functioning hotel and a wedding venue—she would never admit it to you or to herself but you had a sneaking suspicion it was a true vanity project in every sense of the word. You'd heard rumblings between European socialites that her Argentinian polo player husband was growing weary of her shopping sprees down at the Avenida da Liberdade and the last straw was a wine-filled rampage of the strip boutiques on Castilho Strett that ended in a bill of over sixty-two thousand euros.

Despite positioning your Portugal stay as a vacation Alma really put you to hard labour. Or at least your version of hard labour at 6 months postpartum which was lugging the ostentatious amount of floral and foliage arrangements for the happy couples who'd chosen the Portuguese country home to be a witness to their holy matrimony.

By 4 pm you were done for the day having laid out the varied bouquets of chocolate cosmos, primroses, hollyhocks, and wisteria. Some were incased by crystal glassed vase, like a trapped ballerina forced to spin inside of a music box. While others were allowed to roam free, tangled up the arched walls of the chapel, propped up by short and stumpy neoclassical stone pillars.

You'd initially underestimated how unhappy it would make you to see couples—each more happy than their former. It made you want to take a microscope to the state of your own marriage and shred it open. How unrecognisable you both were to the versions of yourselves that had walked down that Rhode Island aisle that day. Your marriage to Jack wasn't bad by any means: it was just different than it had been at the beginning. After having a child your relationship with Jack had morphed into more of a companionship rather than a romantic relationship. He'd become more distant: working later hours and coming to the west wing smelling of palo santo and black current bud.

A stark contrast to your personalised musk of waffle cone accord and vanilla...

But you were committed to make your marriage stick. For your sake, for your children's sake, and for the sake of Jake's whole presidential career. You were each other's best friend but sometimes, all of the time, you'd just wish he would touch and cherish you like a lover. You just wish he would be soft with your heart every once in a while.

You'd hoped a European getaway for the both of you would make some difference, but it seemed that Jack had made his choice. And so will you.

Because you had been such a help around the home Alma decided to watch Enya while you helped the florists prepare, the last time you saw your baby-girl was only a few short hours ago and yet your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest.

Dusting yourself off, brushing away the cut stems of flowers and pollen from various flowers that were sure to stain the surplus of linen matching sets you had brought along with you, you made a bee-line away from the chapel and towards the main house. Maybe Alma truly was on to something about making the sprawling estate into a hotel what with its ample land of approximately 1,350,794 Sq Ft.

Due to its overwhelming size Alma had allowed you to stay in the third wing of country home which had been newly renovated to accommodate for her aspirations of it one day becoming an auberge, but much, much large. With its many rooms you and Alma, and Jack if he bothered to show, were more than comfortable. Though you could afford it with the shear square footage of the wing, Alma's cot stayed with you directly to the side of your king sized bed, a welcomed addition of the renovations by you.

You couldn't believe that Alma was taking this kind of project on, to you just planning it all out seemed hugely anal. What with all the construction needed to implement tarred streets, sidewalks, public lighting, water pipes, sewage, electrical and network cables at the entrance of each lot. I mean it was a lot.

As you push open the door connecting the wing you immediately b-line for the washroom: eager to get the confused scents of opposing flowers off of you this instant. You thought back to your conversation with Alma, remembering that she would be watching her until 5pm: delightful. Despite the absence of your daughter resting on your chest being deeply felt by you, it was a blessing to be able to take your time in the shower. A privilege that you had taken for granted in your twenties.

Apparently your darling Alma, along with Alma's own older children, was going to get a private tour of the romantic woods, the various sycamore trees, and even the proprietary chapel in between the scheduled weddings that day. You'd gathered that by now, taking a look at your watch while you start to disrobe for the shower, Alma and Enya would have already stopped by the church by now.

During your shower you lathered yourself with your 'garden essentials' body wash the scent of California lavender leaving you with a camphorous scent, awakening your senses invigorating you for the evening. Next, you applied a scotch pine shampoo bar to your scalp-a gift from one of your Californian friends from elementary school who'd turned to the all natural life—whatever that meant. Once out of the shower you palmed a hair oil blend of argan oil, natural antioxidants and fatty acids, pear seed oil, and castor oil throughout your locks. Since getting pregnant and after giving birth you had seen a direct decline in the thickness of your hair and an increase in hair loss, a symptom of postpartum you absolutely detested. Activating the arrival of your baby soon you'd decided to get your hair out of your face, since her favourite pastime of late seemed to be yanking your strands of hair with remarkable strength.

Speaking of postpartum symptoms... since you had started breastfeeding your baby girl, your nipples had gone increasingly sore and sensitive especially at nights. As a preemptive measure you put some nipple cream given to you by a midwife and went along with your out of shower routine slathering on your personal favourite body oil that you'd dispersed into a travel size bottle.

Moving out the bathroom after dressing your put on immediate edge. Despite its size you hear noises coming from the room adjacent to the bathroom you'd just stepped out of—the bedroom you and Enya had been staying in.

Ice hot horror had bleed into every crevice, and every vein in your body. Jack always told you to be wary of going places without security—always fretting over your security and your penchant for leaving unannounced, and now you were paying for it.

In an almost comical defence, you grab the nearest thing in your line of sight: ironically an erotic sculpture ground by a plinth that looked like it weighed a far few. Hands shaking you, grasp the brass handle and quickly turned the nob: trying to look as menacing as possible to an intruder.

But what was behind the door was anything but. There was Bobby, in all his grecian tragedian beauty, holding Enya with his big pilose arms supporting her head like a true natural parent—which you'd hope he was after having enough children to start as sports team.

Both of you looked equally surprised as each other.

"Christ, hun what ever are you doing with that thing?" Bobby says chuckling, while rocking back on the soles of his feet and motioning to the stone sculpture.

"Oh Good Heavens, Bob you nearly gave me a damned heart attack" you say clutching a hand to your chest. To which Bobby shamefully and discreetly looks at your chest—in his defence you were wearing a more than revealing top because you really weren't planing on any visitors.

"Oh I'm sorry, c'mere sweetheart how are you? It's been ages!"

"Bob we spoke over the phone two days ago!"

"Oh, c'mon now you that phone calls don't suffice for either one of us."

Bashfully you smile, but realise Jack has not accompanied Bobby, wondering where he is you ask,

"God Bobby it's good to see you too, tell me where is Jack around? did you tell him that there's stables he's probably there he'd love th-"

Interrupting you Bobby explains, "Sweetheart, he couldn't make it I'm sorry."

A bit embarrassed, you try to play it cool. Noticing your discomfort Bobby gently dislodges Enya from his chest to yours, and it's cheesing to say but the weight of her on your chest salves the wound ever so slightly.

"Bob how did you get her? I thought Alma was watching her?"

"Oh she was but we met down at the chapel and I offered to take Enya—she looked a bit occupied with her own roady children. I didn't want Enya to be forgotten about." he says while stepping closer to you, trailing the back of his hand against her cheek and then moving his eyes to you.

Flustered you take your time analysing him back: dressed in a rolled up button up white shirt, and khaki coloured slacks. Blushing, Bobby says,

"She seemed pretty sleepy when she was handed to me. Why don't you have some time on your own and I'll watch her for you?"

"Oh please Bobby i've had plenty of 'me' time. Your ramblings would do me good, would take my mind of Jack. Matter of fact I'm starving aren't you?"

"Famished! I tell you a palm beach flight to Portugal is no joke."

"Well that sorts it! we'll take her bassinet and have some food out in the grass."

"Sounds perfect, maybe some champagne. I know you can't drink but you can live vicariously through me!"

Chuckling you nod, and he follows you out of the room.

Moving into the kitchen you start to prepare the snacks. Looking at your bleak options since you haven't gone to the market you decide on hors d'oeuvres chicly displayed on a walnut cutting board gifted to you by a baroness. Gathering the necessaries: crisp bread, casalingo salami, foie gras parfait, chicken liver paté, and finally a bottle of pierre mignon for your beloved Bobby.

Delicately balancing the board with one hand, and the bottle in the crevice of your arm, you glance back into the bedroom with Bobby and Enya. Despite your unintentional eavesdropping you hear Bobby rocking Enya to sleep,

"You are so lucky to have your mom, huh? She's the best mom anyone could ask for don't you think?"

The comments warm your heart but you're unable to dissect that feeling as Bobby steps out of the room moments later and like a gentleman: immediately steps to take the bottle of wine and board from your hands.

And one thing leads to another, the hours pass, and by 10 pm you both felt drunk—and probably look it to any outsiders passing by. Despite not drinking a single drop you feel utterly intoxicated by his very presence.

Luckily, Enya had been picked up by Alma to be watched for the night after she'd landed upon you two in the grass: with Bobby's head in your lap, giggles emitting from the both of you.

As the night drew on you'd gotten immeasurably close physically, simply tripping over yourselves trying to catch each other up on both of your lives when you weren't with each other. Bobby being Jack's brother meant that a great portion of your life was spent next to Bobby, and even going a few days apart felt like a whole year for the both of you. Possibly a little co-dependent considering you both had parents but you both didn't want to question it to hard—the papers did enough of that themselves, always questioning your friendship or rather the existence of something more.

Once you two had sufficiently caught each other up on your respective lives, the conversation turned more soft and touchy. Bobby was extremely tactile when tipsy. You and Bobby had kissed a couple of times over the years but you'd never gone the distance, always stopping yourselves.

However this time neither of you wanted to stop, in a haste Bobby motions to take off your top, that was until Bobby's soft caresses of your body reminded you of the insecurities plaguing you for the last 9 months.

Feeling you freeze up Bobby, worried that he'd done something wrong, asks if you're feeling okay,

To which you reply, "It's nothing on you Bob, it's just that ever since Enya I'm so different to how I was. Now i'm sore and I ache all the time, and I feel so damn unloveable."

"Oh Hun, you're nothing of the sort. I see, before me, a woman not only worthy of love but of worship. Let me worship you, please I promise it'll be-"

Captivated, you nod almost immediately but cringe as you release you hadn't had time to wipe off the nipple cream you'd lathered on hours before.

Once your breasts are revealed to him you can't bear to look from embarrassment expecting him to recoil, but he doesn't in fact—your worries are bulldozed by the fervid pleasure of his mouth of your bud, sucking delicately for your pleasure and your pleasure only.

Taking his warm mouth of your bud for just a second Bobby says with batted breath,

"Take a deep breath, baby, C'mon"

Overcome, you arch your back like a Persian kitten. Your nails scrambling, and tearing into the soft grass: your moans turning into soft, delightful screams.

Overcome with gratitude and deference to Bobby you scream out, so loud that you're not entirely sure that Alma can't hear you,

"Baby, baby, baby, I'm-i'm your man"

Who knew you could cum from that? Certainly not you, that's for sure but alas you did.

You take several minutes to come out of it, to which he just cradles you brushing a few short strands of hair, dotting kisses along the concave of your breasts.

As if to give back you raise a hand to his chin, and engulf him in a sweet kiss, nothing reminiscent of dominate coming from either side: just tenderness.

"Oh I can taste champagne on your lips, Bobby!"

"Y'know I do have an idea on how to get rid of that taste" to which Bobby dramatically lays you on the ground and gets down to business on his hands and knees, fingering and teasing your mound: warm and inviting.

By the whole end of the ordeal you've had 5 orgasms and made enough noise to rival the neighbouring cats and dogs screeches and barks.

All the nipple butter has been removed from your breasts and is now squarely strewn around on Bobby's face and lips—they do say lanolin is a good moisturiser for the lips...

[ddlydevotion]

obsessive! Bobby Kennedy ‘rfk’ headcanons…

warnings: nothing too crazy just unhealthy obsessive behavior. just a bunch of thoughts I’ve had about obsessive! Bobby.

currently listening to: My Way of Life by Frank Sinatra ₊˚ෆˎˊ˗

It’d already be expected of you as his wife but he’d want you at every single one of his Senate Racket Committee hearings. His demeanor when interrogating even the toughest of criminals was always stone-cold, unbreakable. The complete opposite of the attitude he had towards you. There was something inside of him that urged him to amp up the 'tough, no nonsense lawyer' act. The reasoning behind this mindset was that he wanted to show you that he was capable of protecting you. capable of shielding you away from the cruelty of the world.

He takes you to every single event relating to his brother's campaign. He begins to sweat like a sinner in church when he's away from you for too long. One night you're in Boston and the very next you're in New York. It's quite a lot to get used to but you learn to manage since you know how antsy Bobby can get when you don't accompany him.

His family tease him about his infatuation with you and say that he's "smitten like a kitten". All he can do is chuckle and look away with a flushed face, but never does he deny it.

Has said that the greatest thing he's ever accomplished was marrying a woman like you.

Bobby does absolutely everything in his power to keep a sweet smile plastered on your face. You constantly tell him that he doesn't have to do all that he does, that you're happy simply being in the same room as him. However, this doesn't stop him from treating you as a princess of some sort. His specialty for gift giving truly shines through during holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays.

That restaurant that you like so much? Well, he got them to be caterers for your birthday dinner. That actor that stars in your favorite film? He managed to get them to make an appearance on your special day!

Has your name embroidered within the inside of his tie.

He has sooo many photos/things related to you placed all around his office. Anybody walking into his office is immediately greeted by a photograph of the two of you on your wedding day. He has little trinkets of yours scattered all over his desk. Don't even get him started if you enjoy painting in your pastime, your artwork will be plastered all over this man's office.

He even has photos of you as a baby.

He locked you down real quick. It worried your friends and family but once they saw just how disturbingly sweet he was when it came to you, they put their principles aside. He knew he got lucky having a girl like you by his side and he'd be damned if he were to let another man bask within your love.

If he's unable to take you with him on a work trip (for whatever reason), he is calling you sososo often. multiple times a day. He'll have somebody drop off flowers at your front door along with a letter that he demanded for them to place within the bouquet. He'd send flowers every day until you told him that you couldn't possibly keep all of the flowers alive + you were running out of room. He switched to just sending a ridiculously large bouquet once a week during his time away.

He pushes himself to the absolute limit when it comes to his work because he wants to be able to provide for you, and he wants you to be proud of him. His brother quickly picked up on his infatuation with you and uses it to encourage the best results out of Bobby regarding the campaign.

"we've gotta do this carefully, alright Bobby? I know you wanna get home to y/n, so, the quicker we get this done the sooner you'll make your way down to New York."

He wants you to know you can rely on him for anything and everything. You don't need anybody other than him. He'll be your best friend, your companion, your confidant, the one you run to.

He wouldn't isolate you from your loved ones because he'd hate to see you so upset. But, he'd do everything in his power to outshine anything that they do for you, even the smallest of things. It's his way of showing that he's the main person who truly knows what you want, and what you need. It honestly becomes a bit humorous because a friend of yours could get you a sweater and he'd buy you one with even better material just to overshadow them.

loves having you visit him while he's at work.

There's moments where you have to reassure and pump him full of confidence because he can get a bit self conscious. The environment he grew up in was incredibly competitive and he was always made to feel as if he was the runt of the litter. However, all those years of doubt and insecurity seem to melt right off once he's around you. Hearing you reassure him about the fact that he's a phenomenal husband and an amazing brother makes all of those negative thoughts in his head disappear as if they were never there in the first place.

taglist: @bobbykennedyswife @divinedelusional @fortheloveofjos @summerrivera777777 @romanticismboop @tomriddlethefinest @lancerslover @unmarlou message me if you’d like to be added 💌.

[theverystrangegirl27]

Wax Wings, A Bobby Kennedy Story by theverystrangegirl

[h-l-v-kennedy-blog]

Unadvised (getting so close to someone so quickly)

pairing: robert kennedy x oc (ava worthing) synopsis: months fly by and bobby is surely falling in love with ava, even if the timing isn't exactly ideal. warnings: nothing that crazy tbh, joe sr. being an asshole in passing, mentions of bobby loathing lbj. word count: 2,254 notes: after a long time, bobby and ava's story continues. i'm posting this on valentine's day, so happy valentine's, this is your little gift from me to you, readers. here is part 3.

There was a date, then two, then five and more than a dozen in the summer of ‘59, nothing explicit, for in Bobby’s family, he was the more prudish and least lewd of his brothers. But there was a linger of deep desire for Ava, that he began to fester inside him, with or without her near him.  

One month turned to two and so on. Bobby couldn’t help but enjoy any moment of her presence. But such joy wasn’t to be permanent. Jack’s presidential campaign for the party nomination was coming to a head. He was helping lay the groundwork in several states for the campaign, meaning he was travelling all around the country.

He was also managing it, and he knew what words his father would inevitably say to him. “No distractions, head in the game if we want Jack in the White House in January ‘61. After that, do who- or whatever you want. Until then, keep your nose clean and your goal is the campaign.”  

Which the patriarch Joseph P. Kennedy did say to Bobby, no earlier than in late October 1959. 

“Bobby, I know you’ve found some company for yourself, and your mother and I couldn’t be happier. But if she’s going to become a liability or a distraction, then you need to end it. Nothing is going to stand in my... Jack’s way to the White House. No young graduate who’s turned your head, no one.” 

Bobby understood the possible image it would taint. But Ava wasn’t wholly undesirable. She was raised Catholic, came from a good background (her father ran a widely successful publishing company in New York), and was educated. Sure, she was younger than him. The same could be said for Jack and his wife Jacqueline, who had a gap of twelve years, same as him and Ava. So, it wasn’t all that unseemly. However, he argued with himself, it wouldn’t exactly look the best if his courtship would be made public. “Campaign manager is busier with his girlfriend than the campaign” or some headline like that passed through his mind. Because it would derive attention away from Jack and his campaign. Which wasn’t the goal. 

All in all, Joe Sr.’s words meant in short: “Keep this to yourself, don’t overshadow your brother. Don’t bring attention to yourself.” 

And Bobby did what he thought was best. 

He busied himself more with the campaign. Ava was away in the fall and most of the winter of ‘59 anyway. On a ‘worldliness tour’ was what Ava jokingly called it when sending Bobby letters, handwritten letters from Rome, Paris, Tokyo, Berlin and London. He missed her terribly, so terribly in fact he kept one of her letters tucked in a pocket of his slacks or whatever form of pants he wore. He, one time, mistakenly had tucked a letter in his shorts while down in Palm Beach during the holidays and his younger sister Pat had pushed him into the pool. The result was a soaked and ruined letter. Something he fretted over, but to his disdain was unsalvageable. Still, he didn’t deter from keeping a part of her with him at all times. 

--- 

On January 3rd, 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy announced his choice to seek the Democratic Parties nomination for president of the United States of America, meaning the campaign was fully on.  

--- 

April 1960 

Ava was back now. And after settling herself in her shared apartment in Foxhall Village, a neighbourhood in D.C, not that far from Georgetown. She didn’t have a day job yet, and she didn’t really need one, but she knew she had to find something to occupy her days with.  

The phone rings in the hallway, she picks up the black handle. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Ava.” Bobby’s voice crackled through the receiver. 

“Hi, Bobby. Remind me, where are you again?” Ava rested the handle in the crook of her neck as she took the rotary phone into her hand and moved it into her living room, free hand pulling on the long black cord as she collapsed into a blue armchair.

“West Virgnia, the primary-” 

“Jack’s facing off Humphrey, yes, I remember.” She cut him off, remembering. “Oh, sorry, I talked over you.” 

“No, no. I’m glad you remembered, and you can talk over me all you want.” He said things like that, making her insides feel a bit warm and fuzzy. 

“Are you sure? I know it’s a bad habit.” 

“I’m sure, Ava. I like listening to you talk...I miss that.” 

“Should I buy myself a Dictaphone and record myself, and send you the tapes?” A slight laugh came from the other line. 

“I don’t think you have to go to that much trouble for me.” He tried to verbally wave off the idea. 

“Oh, but you’re worth the trouble.” She insisted. Ava had noticed that Bobby could put himself down and downplay his own qualities, and she didn’t like it one bit. 

“Just hearing your voice is enough...and it reminds me that at least one person is definetly voting for Jack.”  

She chuckled and tried to parry his words. “Are you sure, I might swing my vote, who knows?” 

“Oh.” That ‘oh’ meant he had been serious when he said what he said. 

Ava backtracked instantly. “Hey, no ‘oh’, I was kidding, of course I’m voting blue. You know my family votes blue no matter who it is. And if it’s Jack, all the better.” 

“I...I knew that...that you were kidding.” His voice became more high-pitched and reedy when he was nervous or feeling insecure. 

“Bobby, let’s move on. I’m voting Kennedy after your brother takes the nod at the DNC. We’re good, okay? Now, when did you think we could go out for-” 

“I want you to meet my parents.” He said it so fast she was almost sure she misunderstood. 

Ava froze and an empty airspace formed on the phone line. 

She managed to find her voice: “Wa-wait, what? You want me to- Bobby, I’m flattered-” 

“Oh.” Another damn ‘oh’. 

“Let me finish, all right?” 

A hum came from Bobby’s end. 

“Good boy.” A spurt of laughter. “As I was saying. I’m flattered, but are you sure we’re at that point? And you sure they want to meet me during such a important time for your family?” 

“You’re important to me.” He mumbled, softly, Ava almost couldn’t hear him. 

“Yes, I’ve gathered as much. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stuck around even when I was abroad. You know most men, younger, would have found another, while their girlfriend is away abroad.” 

“Well...I do know. That was how Ethel and I...” Yes, the ex, a bit of sore spot, if both sides were honest. It was a shadow that they had yet overcome, and it still brought an air of awkwardness to any conversation she came up in. “...her older sister was abroad, and Ethel..and I...” 

“Ah, I see.” 

“No, but you don’t. I... I learned from that, and I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“Firstly, since I have no younger sister to swoop in and take you away.” Ava deadpanned, making Bobby let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Yes, I know that. And she would be too young anyway.” A pause. “Ava, I promise, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“I know, Bobby.” 

“Good, good. I want you to know that.” 

“Good, I know.” 

“Maybe, you’re right, about it...maybe we’re not at that point, yet. But my family is very important to me and they’re a big part of my life. And you’ve well...” 

“Yes. All right, why don’t you get your brother through the West Virgnia primary, and we’ll table this? But we will talk about this again.” 

 “You sure? We could just forget-” 

“No, Bobby. We-I want to talk about it, just not over the telephone maybe, while you don’t have six hundred campaign problems clouding your brain?” 

“Okay, you’re probably right.” He conceded. 

“You know what would solve our long-distance problem?” 

“What?” 

“If I just volunteered to work for the campaign, then I’d get to travel with you and you wouldn’t have to miss me so terribly, as you do.” 

“I... I wouldn’t want to be your superior and... boss you around. I couldn’t be seen giving you special treatment. Even if you’re my...girlfriend.” Ava knew he was blushing; he did every time he called her his girlfriend. “It would be...” 

“...nice to have me around. I can type. I can lick stamps. I’d be a good worker, come on, Bobby. Please.”  

“Ava, I... I don’t think that...it’s the best idea.” 

“But don’t you miss me?” 

“Of course, I do.” 

“Then...” 

He gave in. “You’re very determined when you want something, it’s almost irritating.” 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.” 

“No, it isn’t. And when I see you again, I’ll prove you wrong.”  

“I’ll be waiting.” 

---

Ava managed to insert herself quite well into the campaign, being a diligent worker at the headquarters in Boston, where she saw how Bobby managed the campaign with almost military and micro-managing precision. She saw that he could bite someone's head off if they were slacking off, so she knew to always look to be doing something even if she noticed he shifted his tone when he talked to her. His hand would sometimes graze her arm when he asked her for updates on phone calls she made or telegrams she sent. 

During the DNC she managed beforehand to register as a delegate from the New York state delegation, so she was down on the convention floor, cajoling delegates (many older than her) as best as she could. All the while, she and Bobby managed some private rendezvous in their hotel rooms. 

On the morning after the Democratic presidential nomination was secured for the Kennedy campaign, the choice of VP was made in the early hours. 

Bobby, not liking the choice that Jack had made, choosing Senate Majority Leader Lyndon Baines Johnson to be VP, tried in vain to convince LBJ to not join the ticket.

Defeated and irritated after trying to one last time have Jack change his mind and failing, he went over to Ava’s hotel room. He knocked on the door, waiting. 

A moment later, Ava’s figure appeared (wearing a blue silk nightgown with a robe over it) with the door opening. “Who is it?” She knew what choice had been made, but just not the who. 

She knew it wasn’t someone Bobby liked, seeing as he looked like a sad puppy. 

“Johnson.” He scoffed, pushing into her room and flopping onto her bed, behaving not like a grown man, but more like a petulant child. 

“Ah. At least you have a better chance in the South, if he can rally the Dixiecrats.” She offered him the bright side, but he let out a huff and buried his face in her pillows. “Bobby. Come on.” She sat on the bed and gently touched his shoulder. “All is not lost.” 

“But he is a brute who spread stories about Jack just before balloting. I... I don’t trust him, and... ugh.” The more irritated he’d get, the less literate. 

“I know. But that’s just how politics works, you have a enemy who’s trying to stab you in the back, but the next day, you need him as an ally, so he won’t killed by the third guy, who’s after the both of you.” 

“How eloquently put, Miss Worthing.” He turned to lay on his side, a messy forelock of hair in his face. 

Ava pushed it aside, making Bobby sigh as his eyes closed. “A literature degree comes in handy.” 

A small smile came to his lips, and he peeled his eyes open, pale blue eyes catching her grey ones. “You are...something else. You’re much more democratic than I took you for. And you surprise me, constantly. You know so much more than you let on.” 

“Well, I’m a fast learner. When I got you to let me join the campaign, the next day I was at the nearest library.” 

He reached out a hand and his fingers twisted in her hair. “And so, from books you got this... almost calming wisdom? Are you sure you’re the younger one in our pair? I feel like I’m schooled by you more often than not.” 

She chuckled shyly. “Well, I wouldn’t call it wisdom. And I don’t like the thought that I’m making you feel less than.” 

“Which you don’t. I feel...like I don’t deserve you half the time. Because, you're…wonderful." He tugged at the strands of her hair between his fingers, pulling her down to his face.

Smiling, one hand rest on the mattress to steady herself as her face was lowered to his. Their lips touched, careful, but comfortable. The way Bobby touched her was like he was handling fine china or witnessing something sacred. He wasn't too rough with her, since he treasured feeling her mouth against his, his fingers still tangled in her hair. He pulled her closer, making her fall on top of him, letting out a surprised giggle, which did make him more eager.

Her hands had found themselves on his the base of his neck, the back of his head resting against one of her pillows. His hand, that was not tangled in her hair, grasped at her upper back.

Carnal pleasure was a sin, right?

He'd repent later, he needed her more than safe passage to Heaven, right now.

///

Taglist: @jackiesgirl, @theverystrangegirl27, @fortheloveofjos, @kennediva, @stargiirl27, @melancholicstation , @bleatngheart , @rocker-chick-7 , @kimcrystal123

masterlist and earlier parts: Unexpected, Unthinkable.

[kennedyism]

now this looks like fun giggles

Surfin’ USA.

Bobby Kennedy x reader

Summary: Spending a day on the beach with Bobby? Yes please. (Need that!!!!!)

Warnings: This is all just for fun, no need to take this seriously!

Tag list: @jackiesgirl @quietamericans @obsessedwithjohnjr @fortheloveofjos @melancholicstation @rocker-chick-7 @bleatngheart @joansiesbeloved

author’s note: TELL THE TEACHER WE’RE SURFINNNNN SURFIN USAAAAA

“Gee, Jack, I think your age is catching up to you, you can’t even keep up!”

You watch your fiancé run around with the football in the sand, sunglasses covering your eyes as you stare. It makes you laugh seeing the president trying to keep tabs on his younger, more athletic, younger brother. You’re the only… not Kennedy woman yet, but you get the point, here.

“Hey, Baby!” Bobby shouts, making you snort. He’s so corny, but it’s okay since it’s him. He comes over to you, only in his swim trunks, looking down at you, football in hand. “You oughta come play. Jack’s gettin’ his ass handed to him. You could probably beat him.” He snickers, looking down at your face, then your bikini, not in a sexual way, but just to look at how beautiful you are.

“No, I’m alright… go enjoy yourself.”

Bobby then sits beside you in the sand, pressing a kiss on your cheek which makes you giggle. “Oh, stop… Not here.” You laugh, trying to push him away. but he’s a lot stronger than you, making him lean a bit more next to you, practically pinning you with only sitting next to you.

“Not my fault you’re so pretty.” He flirts, which makes you laugh. Bobby is not normally a flirter. That’s his brother, he’s the more logical one, but you’re not complaining about the sudden change of behavior.

Bobby is very unpredictable. You never know his next move, and that’s what makes him all more lovable and attractive. “Okay, lover boy, that’s enough.” You laugh, gently shoving him off you. You then snicker watching him fall gently in the sand.

The attorney general sits up, brushing the sand off his arms, and then he puts his knees to his chest, the wind blowing in his hair as he stares at you with love in his eyes. He then turns his attention to the Beach Boys song on the radio, then back at you. “Well, you gotta stop saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell outta you.” He sighs out, putting his sunglasses on, and looking at you through the dark plastic.

Those words make you blush, and sputter looking at him. There’s no way he just say that. He seems to be enjoying your reaction, though. You then decide to play along with his games. “Alright… if you wanna kiss me, you gotta catch me.” You say as you stand up, and starting to dart off into the distance.

Bobby is taken back by your actions, and it takes about thirty seconds for it to register and click into his mind, but within that time, he’s onto his feet and chasing after you.

“You forget I played Football!”

“In college!”

“Still played—You callin’ me old?!”

And just as he says that, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace from behind. “Got ya.” He pants, trying to hold you in place, but it’s hard to do so with your squirming and laughter.

“Let go!” You laugh, finally getting out of his grasp, and then you pull Bobby into a kiss, leaving a bright red lipstick mark on his lips, and that makes you burst out laughing, so it makes you do it again. “Oh, wow.” You giggle.

“Are ya done?”

“Not yet…”

You then grab the grab the general’s face, your hands on his cheeks as you place kisses all around his face. You then step back to admire your work. “Now that’s a look.” You say, a hand on your hip, proud of your art work.

“Wow, not gonna let me go out like this, are ya?”

“I gotta let everyone see my work!”

“We can put me in a museum, if you’d like.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

[duchess-blanche]

getting dragged back into my prison cell (kennedy obsession) after 4 years because of the elections and the jack schlossberg renaissance 😔😔😔