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dancethroughthethunder · 16 days ago

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Taking Care of You

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You've been having a weird week, and Bob isn’t really sure why until he takes a closer look at the calendar and realizes you have a doctor’s appointment you’re dreading. Bob spends the next few days taking care of you, and loving on you a little extra with your favorite things. Whether or not you want to talk about what’s got you worried, Bob’s always going to be there for you – as your boyfriend, that’s his job.

Author's Note: Hi friends. Reader is pretty worried about a doctor’s appointment here, specifically with the gynecologist. I kept it completely vague, there’s no mention or allusion as to why this is bothering her and there is no description at all of the actual appointment. We jump from her driving there to her driving home. This is something that’s personal to me, and important to me. I’ve been working on this for a little bit. If you’re also someone who (for any reason) dreads going to the gynecologist, or any doctor, I love you and I see you. I’m proud of you, and so is our sweet Bob Floyd. My tumblr DMs are open if you want to chat.

Something’s been bothering you this week. Not the entire time, but enough for Bob to pick up on the pattern. That’s a problem for two reasons: one, he doesn’t like seeing you upset for any reason, and two, he can’t quite figure out what’s causing it. He doesn’t like not knowing. He prides himself on being observant at work, with his friends, and most certainly when it comes to you and your relationship. But this time, it takes him the better part of the week to figure out what’s bothering you.

It started on Sunday. You were prepping the white board calendar in your kitchen while Bob worked on your grocery list for the week. As per usual, you had the radio on and were listening to something bright, catchy, and almost guaranteed to get you to abandon your task in favor of dancing together. At some point, you stopped humming. He’s been trying to remember all week when exactly that happened, but he spent so much of the time with his head in the fridge trying to decide what you needed that he missed it entirely. He pulled his head out of the fridge and was met by silence on your end. He turned around, expecting to see you reaching to skip ahead to the next song on the playlist or being incredibly focused, cross-referencing the many schedules and calendars you both keep. Instead, he found you quietly staring down at the white board.

“You alright, darlin?” He asked.

“Hmm?” You looked up, startled. “Oh, I’m alright, baby. Just zoned out I guess.” Blinking away whatever thoughts you had been lost in, you smiled and went back to humming while you worked. It was a bit of a weird moment, but Bob quickly turned back to his task and didn’t think any more of it for the rest of the night.

Then on Monday, while the two of you were chatting over dinner, you reminded him that you had a doctor’s appointment on Friday afternoon. You said you had scheduled it a while back, and it was just a normal check up. Then, you went back to talking about work. It seemed a little hurried but it’s not unlike you to jump from conversation topic to conversation topic, even quickly interrupting yourself before you can finish your first thought. So by the time there was a break in the conversation for Bob to interject, he, too, was primarily focused on the work drama you had been explaining.

He can’t say for certain, but he probably asked a quick follow up question about your appointment, and let you steer the conversation back towards work. Why wouldn’t he have? Especially given your assurance that everything was fine, and it was just a normal check-up. You seemed far more interested in what you had overheard at work that morning and your lively storytelling easily captured Bob’s attention. By the time you went to bed that night, Bob hadn’t given it a second thought.

Tuesday came and went as per usual. You both went to work, came home, had dinner together, and later the two of you had sex. As far as your sex life went, Tuesday was a pretty normal day. You were both incredibly satisfied, thank you very much, and you seemed like your normal self. Except afterwards, you practically tripped over yourself getting out of bed to go shower. When Bob checked in on you, you swore everything was fine, you just felt sweatier than normal and wanted a nice cool shower before you were too tired. That made sense, and Bob didn’t want to push it or insist you were hiding something, so he gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you he loved you as he made his way past you for his turn in the shower.

Then last night while you were reading, it was your turn to pick the music. Without hesitation, you reached for one of the albums that you always classify as belonging on the ultimate sad girl playlist. Bob raised an eyebrow at you, but didn’t say anything about it. Sometimes you also just want something more mellow to listen to while reading, and everything else seemed fine as far as he knew. Besides, it’s a good album. He gave it a few minutes before he asked if you were alright. You promised him that you were fine, thanked him for asking, and went back to your book.

With your attention fully on the mystery unraveling in your story, you didn’t see the way that Bob’s eyebrows furrowed. All of a sudden it was like there was a big glowing question mark hovering over you, highlighting all of the little moments he had originally taken at face value. Separately, they could have all been explained away, but back-to-back in one week, he’s sure that something is going on. So he resolved to get a second opinion before pressing you for more information, just in case he was overthinking it and everything really was fine.

It’s important to Bob that you have moments that are just for the two of you. Beyond your sex lives, beyond any clear secrets, he never wants you to feel like everything you say or do is going to be put under a microscope and dissected. Certainly not by him, or by any of the other people he’s close with. As a result, he tries to be careful about what he tells Natasha. Yes, she’s his best friend, but he doesn’t want either of you in a position where you worry he’s just going to turn around and spill everything to the other. He’ll tell Nat about the funny things you said, and he told her when you first swapped “I love you”s, and when he asked you to move in with him. And yes, he’s told Nat about the little ways you’ve gotten on each other's nerves, and will ask for advice from time to time, but he tries to be considerate of the both of you when he does it.

This time, he’s started to worry that he’s been missing something for the better half of the week and knows that he needs some advice from his best friend to figure it out. So before work this morning, he texted Nat and asked her if she wanted to grab coffee before the day started. They sat next to each other in the parking lot as he filled her in on everything he could think of from the past week starting from his realization last night. At this point, he’s so worried about not realizing you were upset that he’s even sharing the things that might not be related like how you’ve said work is going, your most recent conversation with your mother, and what you’ve been having for dinner.

In turn, he answers every random question Nat has, even when he’s a little embarrassed. Nat wants to help him figure this out so she asks when you last went on a date, is he sure he didn’t do anything, when did you last have sex, and what other than work do you have this week? He tells her you went out Sunday morning for a breakfast date, as far as he knows he hasn’t, he blushes when he says Tuesday, and finally a lightbulb goes off for both of them when he mentions your doctor's appointment tomorrow.

“Bob. Is there any chance something’s wrong?” Natasha asks gingerly.

“No, she said she made the appointment a little while ago. She seemed normal, healthy, I don’t think anything is wrong.” He starts to ramble. “Oh, and she specified it was a check-up.”

“Okay.” Nat nods. “My money’s on the doctor’s appointment. Maybe take a look at the calendar, see if there are any other clues. Or maybe it’s just a shitty week, we’ve all been there.” She shrugs.

“I know. I just don’t want her to think I don’t care.” He admits, deflating a little as he does.

“There’s no way, Bob. You two are crazy about each other. There’s no chance in hell that she’s worried about that. Besides, if something is bothering her, I doubt she’s expecting you to be able to magically figure it out on your own.” With that, Nat climbs down off the back of Bob’s truck and nudges him to head inside so they can start their day.

Bob spends the rest of the day thinking about their conversation and resolves to double check the calendar when he gets home.

Thursdays are your in-office days, and no matter how hard you try, you’re often one of the last members of your team to head home for the day. That gives Bob the perfect opportunity to try and figure things out a little bit by himself. After getting home and changing out of his uniform, Bob walks up to the calendar and looks at tomorrow, where you have “Doctor @ 1PM” written neatly.

Bob sits down and stares at the calendar, trying to think. He knows your dentist appointment isn’t until next month, and you just got new glasses a month ago. He can’t entirely remember, but he thinks that your physical was in the fall, just like his. It would be more helpful if you had listed any more information on the calendar. The doctor’s name, maybe. Or the name of the practice/office.

That’s it! Bob thinks. With your friends in and out of your house sometimes, there’s only one doctor whose name you probably wouldn’t list on your calendar.

Bob picks up the phone to call Nat, excited to have figured it out.

“I think you’re right. I think it’s the doctor.” He says after exchanging greetings.

“Okay, that makes sense.” He can practically see the no-nonsense way she nods in response.

“It’s Dr. Walker, her OB-GYN.” Bob says, with his mouth moving faster than his brain now that he’s putting together the pieces of the puzzle. “That’s why she’s stressed. She hates going.”

For a normally private person, that’s a lot of information for him to give Natasha. Part of him worries that he’s overstepping and telling Nat too much, but she doesn’t seem surprised as she answers without hesitation.

“That makes so much sense, Bob. I know she’s told me how much she dreads it. Even at the best of times, it sucks.” She laughs.

“Alright, I’m going to run to the store before she gets home.” Bob thanks Nat for her help, and even though he knows he doesn’t need to, makes her promise not to say anything about your appointment, or any of the rest of their conversation from this morning.

Quickly grabbing his keys, Bob heads right back out hoping he can get everything done and get home before you do. Bob heads to the supermarket where he gets you some of your favorite flowers, a new under-eye mask, a card, some ice cream, your favorite breakfast pastry and garlic bread, and your favorite salad bowl.

Bob gets home and quickly gets to work. He puts the under-eye mask in the fridge like you always do, but hides it behind the butter so you won’t notice right away. Next, he puts away the food he bought you, similarly hiding it where he can. The salad goes under the rest of the veggies, and the pastry gets hidden in the breadbox.

From there, Bob gets out a vase and trims your flowers, placing the vase right on the kitchen table where you’ll see it soon after getting home. Then he sits down, filling out the card, before tucking it away in his nightstand.

He finishes up with just enough time to be able to get dinner started by the time you walk in the door.

“Hi baby.” You call out as you slip off your shoes.

“Hi darlin’, great timing. The pasta’s on the stove.” He comes out of the kitchen and meets you in the doorway to give you a kiss.

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” You smile. Bob takes your work bag from your hands to drop off by your desk as you go to change into comfy clothes and wash off your makeup. When you come back out to the kitchen a few minutes later, Bob is just finishing setting the table.

“Robert, is that what I think it is?” You point at the bread sitting on the table. “I thought we were making those frozen garlic knots?”

“That was the plan, but I thought this sounded better.”

Given the smile on your face, you clearly agree.

Bob serves the pasta while you serve the salad, in a practiced routine, before diving into stories about work while you eat. Bob wonders how he could have missed it all week. Now that he knows, he can see the way you glance at the calendar every so often as if it’s a dark cloud hovering over you. He doesn’t think you’re ready to talk about it, given the fact you haven’t directly mentioned it, and truthfully he’s not even sure if you know that you’re doing it. Instead of asking right then, Bob makes a mental note to bring it up later, and continues talking about work.

“Alright, you. I’ve got this tonight.” He says once you’re both done eating, indicating towards the dirty dishes on the table. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower?”

Predictably, you start to argue. “No, you made dinner, let me clean it up.”

Bob grabs the salad dressing and parmesan cheese and makes his way over towards the fridge. “Really, honey. I’ve got it tonight. I know in-office days feel so long. Why don’t you go take a nice long shower?”

Bob comes over and gives you a kiss on the forehead as you nod and make your way into your bedroom to to disrobe before heading into the bathroom. He hears the shower start running as he puts the leftovers in the fridge. He knows he has a little time before you emerge, so he finishes clearing the table and washing all of the dishes. Then, he heads over to your desk and grabs two sticky notes and a pen, writing you two more notes.

By the time he’s finished all of his tasks, you’re still in the shower, which is perfect for what he’s planning. He grabs a clean towel out of the hall and tosses it into the dryer to warm up for you before knocking and letting himself into the bathroom.

“Just me, darlin’.” He says as he enters.

“Hi baby. I’m just finishing up.” You call out while Bob swaps your original towel with the warm one.

“You mind if I hang out in here? I wanna spend time with my girl.” Bob says. You can’t see him but he winks anyway.

“You’re a flirt, Robert Floyd.” You stick your head out from behind the shower curtain while you tease him. This time, you’re looking right at him when he winks. Smiling, you duck back into the shower. He knows that being okay right now doesn’t mean you aren’t still nervous about tomorrow, but Bob is glad to see that for the moment, at least, things seem good.

Bob sits up on the bathroom counter while you finish your shower. Once the shower turns off, he grabs your warm towel and gets ready to give it to you. You push the curtain open and automatically reach for your towel, expecting it to be in its normal sport. Surprised, you look up at Bob to see him holding it out for you.

“Oh, thank you!” You’re pleasantly surprised by the warm towel.

“I was thinking, maybe after my shower we could do a face mask together?”

Bob tries to keep his face neutral but he’s pretty sure that you know why he’s asking. You know he’s figured out that you’re worried about tomorrow. But you don’t address it directly, you just agree with his plan, and despite still being wet and wrapped in a towel, step into his waiting arms. You nestle your head in the crook of his neck as he holds you. Neither of you say anything for a minute, you just breathe together while Bob gently rubs your back through the towel.

“I’m going to go get dressed.” You say as you finally pull away, heading towards your bedroom.

While Bob showers, you put on your comfiest pair of pajamas and braid your hair back, so it won’t be in the way of your face mask. You grab your book and head to the couch, where you wait for Bob to be ready.

After he showers, Bob similarly dries off and comes to meet you in the living room.

“I’ve got something for you.” He leads you into the kitchen, where he procures the under-eye mask from the fridge. “I thought it might be nice. Do you want to do them with our face mask or after?”

“With.” You nod as you grab the under-eye mask and follow Bob to the bathroom.

Bob can’t help but watch you as you gently place the under-eye masks on. When you go to grab the jar of mud mask you like, he stops you.

“Can I do it?”

Surprised, you nod. Bob gently brushes back the few pieces of hair that are trying to escape your braid and opens the jar. Delicately, he starts using his fingers to apply the mud to your face with his right hand while he cups your chin with his left. He’s so focused on what he’s doing, you can see the concentration in the slight furrow of his brows as he swipes his fingers across your cheek. You take a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry at how deeply and how clearly he loves you – how clearly written it is on his face.

Once you’re covered with the face mask, Bob very gently leans in for a kiss, careful not to disturb any of the mud he’s placed.

“My turn.” You take the jar from his hands as he washes the mud off his fingers in the sink and then proceed to similarly apply it to his face.

Neither of you are mind readers, but you both know what the other is thinking: wow, I’m so lucky to love you. Look at you. You’re beautiful.

Copying Bob’s previous movements, you give him a kiss once you’re done before washing your hands. Bob sets a timer and leads you back to the couch so you can read your book while you wait. When the timer goes off, you two head back to the bathroom to clean your faces and once the mud is gone, Bob takes the opportunity to press kisses all over your still wet, clean face while you giggle.

“I love you.” You say, in between giggles.

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for this.” It’s the closest to admitting you’re worried that you’ve gotten all week, and the closest you’ll get for the night. But Bob is patient and he doesn’t push. He just smiles and tells you that’s his job as your boyfriend.

You spend the rest of the night on the couch together before getting in bed a little earlier than normal. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck as you take melatonin, trying to proactively combat the pre-appointment anxiety that might threaten to keep you up all night. Even though you haven’t talked openly about your appointment, you know that Bob knows you’re nervous but don’t want to talk about it, and Bob knows that you know he’s there for you.

By the time you wake up the next morning, Bob is just about ready to leave for work. It’s a combination of his need to get there so early for morning exercises and your ability to work from home removing the need to factor in a commute.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greets you as you come into the kitchen. “I’m just about to head out, but I’ve got breakfast ready for you at your desk.” You sleepily walk up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you greet your boyfriend with a hug.

“Thank you, baby. Have a good day at work.”

“I love you. Call me during lunch, if you want.” Bob presses a kiss to your forehead before ducking down to kiss you properly.

“I love you, fly safe, be safe.” You tell him, like you do every morning. With one last kiss, Bob makes his way to work and you head into your spare room where you keep your desk. When Bob said he had breakfast ready, you’d expected toast and a coffee and are surprised to find your favorite breakfast pastry plated next to your computer with a card.

Hi, darlin’. I thought this might be a nice way to start your day. I love you. You’ve got this.

You smile as you read the note before pinning it to the corkboard you keep covered in cards, notes, photos, and other memories. You take a few minutes for yourself to eat breakfast and scroll on your phone before you start work, sending Bob a quick text thanking him for breakfast and the note. When you open your laptop a few minutes later, you’re surprised by a sticky note stuck down below the keyboard.

Happy Friday, almost the weekend. I love you.

You smile as you trace the heart signed next to his initial before also adding it to your corkboard and sending Bob a selfie of you holding up the note and smiling.

Luckily, your morning is surprisingly a little busy which keeps your mind busy until you have to leave for your appointment. When 12:15 rolls around, you’re grabbing your keys and making your way to the car as a text lights up on your phone.

Bob: I love you. I’ll see you later. You’re doing great.

You’re pretty impressed with his ability to time the text right for when he needs to leave, and later he’ll tell you how excited he was when Nat mentioned he could schedule-send a text to you. But for now, you make your way to your appointment and try not to give in to the dread you’re starting to feel. You remind yourself that you like Dr. Walker, she’s always been nice, and it’s just going to be a quick appointment – you’ll be in and out in no time.

An hour later you’re on your way home. Your heart is still racing compared to normal, but you’re okay. As the logical side of you expected, it was a quick and easy appointment with Dr. Walker making you as comfortable as possible. That doesn’t stop you from feeling the after-effects of the adrenaline flooding your system. You take a minute to curse your previous decision making to not take off the entire afternoon as you head home and get ready to log back into work.

Across town, Bob is counting down the hours until he can get home. He knows you’re fully capable and can go to this appointment on your own, but he wishes you didn’t have to. He loves the Navy but on days like today, he wishes he had a more “normal” job where he could easily take off the afternoon, or call out to drive you to your appointment. He’d sit there holding your hand in the waiting room, and be ready with a hug as soon as you were done. Unfortunately he can’t do that, so he hopes that you’re at least enjoying the treats he left you.

For some reason, it’s the salad you find in the fridge that’s your breaking point. Getting home after your appointment, you’re more than ready for lunch. When you open the fridge and find your favorite salad sitting there with a sticky note, you promptly burst into tears.

You did it. I’m so proud of you. I’ll see you in a few hours, sweetheart.

You’re just so full of love for Bob, you don’t possibly know what you’d do without him. You hope never to find out.

You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to music you like, just trying to focus on work. You know it doesn’t work that way, but part of you is starting to feel dumb, ridiculous, broken, for being so upset after what was a nice, easy appointment. But you know that’s not helpful or true so you try to brush the thoughts aside as you finish up your work week.

When the clock hits 5, you’re more than ready to log off, tired from a full week of work and the mental load of your appointment. You immediately go change back into your comfy pajamas before curling up on the couch with reruns of one of your favorite shows until Bob gets home. You’re expecting him home around 6 like most nights, but you don’t hear the door open until closer to 6:30.

“Hey darlin’.” Bob greets you, as he gets home. “I hope you don’t mind but I picked up takeout on the way home. It sounded a little more exciting than leftovers today.”

You stand up from the couch and meet Bob in the kitchen. Bob sets the bag of food down on the counter as you come running towards him, practically slamming your body into him for a hug.

“I love you. Thank you for being so good to me.” You tell him, as you start to cry.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I’ve got you. That’s my job, darlin’. I’m your boyfriend, and it’s my favorite thing.” He tells you, softly rubbing your back and letting you cry.

“You’re so good at it.” You look up at him with watery eyes.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks gently.

“Can we just have dinner?” You shake your head.

“Sure thing, baby. Do you want to grab silverware and napkins so we can eat on the couch tonight?”

Bob watches as you head into the kitchen to grab them, before he heads into the living room with the takeout.

“Great choice.” He says, seeing the show you’re in the middle of. “More of this?” He asks.

“I don’t think so. Wanna watch a movie?” You ask as you come back into the room.

The two of you finish dinner while you watch one of your favorite movies. Bob’s seen it probably a dozen times with you, and you’ve probably seen it closer to three dozen times on your own. He’ll never get tired of it, watching your face throughout your favorite parts and hearing you laugh like it’s the first time. After you finish dinner, Bob puts away the garbage and the dishes before coming back to the couch. He sits back down in his spot before he pulls you over onto his lap.

“Hey, I know today was hard. I love you. We can talk if you want, but we don’t have to.” He says as you adjust to lay down against him.

“I think I’m okay right now. I cried earlier. It was the salad.” You admit, with a laugh. “I know I said it already but thank you for taking care of me. Even when it’s something silly like being upset over a normal appointment. You’re always so good to me.”

“It’s not silly, sweetheart. You’re allowed to be upset. It’s unpleasant, and it sucks, but you did it. I’m proud of you.”

You turn around and kiss Bob before settling back into your spot in his arms.

“Now what do you say we finish this movie and then have some ice cream?”

“I think we can do that.” You say as you grab the remote to resume the movie.

It’s been a tough week, but laying here in Bob’s arms, you’re feeling better already. For his part, Bob doesn’t know if you’ll want to talk more about your appointment later or how you were feeling but that’s okay. The most important part is that you’re on the same page and that he’s taking care of you. He’ll say it over and over again: that’s his job, he loves you, and he’s always going to take care of you. No matter what.

#in which meg writes #my writing #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #no use of y/n #tgm fic #top gun maverick fic #tw: mention of doctors appointment #tw: mention of gynecologist #pre-appointment anxiety #the appointment is not described #neither is the reason for the anxiety #emotional comfort #bob takes care of you #acts of service #acts of love #bob floyd is a good boyfriend

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