#fluffy bob floyd

[stargazing15]

Cosy cuddles

Bob x reader

Summary: After your very heated introduction with Bob, he was all you needed to find happiness again.

Warnings: fluffy, sweet Bob

A/N: it's a short one, I'm having a hard time writing fluffy things at the moment. Sorry for possible typos, keep in mind English is not my first language.

Mood 🎵:

How they met: beautiful angel

One date had quickly turned into two and the count was now on ten. Most dates had ended in one of your bedrooms, or somewhere on the way, cause yeah, you were just too damn addicted to each other and everything was just perfect. It was needless to say you had a bunch of your stuff over at Bob's place and vice versa.

The dates were now turning into stay overs, walking hand in hand on the beach, meeting with his friends -and sometimes bringing your friend/coworker with you for Phoenix- at the Hard Deck, the more typical boyfriend-girlfriend things. His work did as you promised him not form a hardship in your relationship, as you always found a way to make it work. If it was hard to find a moment to meet, you were sending voice messages to each other, sometimes just sleeping next to each other was the only free moment you had together, but that didn't matter, you were with each other and that was all what mattered.

His friends were had welcomed you immediately in their group, making you feel like one of them and not the new one. They were all incredibly friendly, maybe a bit weird, but all so wonderful. On the side, they had stopped crashing parties.

You can say with your hand on your heart you were feeling the happiness you actually deserved.

Today was one of your date days. He asked to meet you after work to firstly eat an ice cream, it was one of the things you had discovered you had in common, a sweet tooth and your love for eating ice creams at the beach. It was wonderful letting your feet get sucked in the wet sand, the water washing over your feet and occasionally splashing some water at each other. Afterwards he had chosen Italian for dinner in the cosiest restaurant you had ever seen. It was small, with the classic red and white squared table cloth, a little flower on the table and the room lit up with warm light. The day had been perfect, even more than perfect, but there was something lingering on your mind and it made you a bit scared. Bob had proven up until now he was different, that he didn't want to loose you either. But with your history, you needed reassurance sometimes. Normally you'd love it when Bob started attacking you with kisses, knowing where that would lead up to. But today was different.

"I'm sorry Robby I need you, but not in that way." You said with a quiet voice.

"Snuggle time angel?" Bob knew you already enough after two months to what you meant most of the times. He picked you up bridal style to his bed, you burying your nose in his t-shirt, loving how he felt and smelled. He let you change in one of his shirts and joined you on his bed. You were laying curled up, face to face and legs intertwined, feeling his warm hand on your waist. This was what you needed at times and Bob was able to provide it to you without the need to say it with words.

"You don't need to be scared my angel." You snuggled up even closer, letting your head rest on his chest.

"What if I'm not enough Robby?"

"Oh my sweet angel, you are more then enough, you are perfect. I promise you." You laid your head on his chest, immediately calming down from hearing his heartbeat. He has been the only person ever be able to make you feel at ease this quickly, his soft touches, his sweet voice, his carefulness, the way he understood you. Before you could register it all, a deep slumber took over you and lead you to dreamland.

" I love you beautiful angel, always." Bob whispered before falling asleep too.

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston

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Let me know what you think! Likes are nice, reblogs even nicer.

[callsign-joyride]

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request #8. Breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much with Bob for your Fluffy Fall Fantasy. Cuz, well, I could really use a really awesome hug b/c things have been shit lately. Thank you so much! ❤️

Head Over Heels | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob has to work late, leaving you at home alone with your three kids for the first time.

Content warnings: None

Prompt: 8. Breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much

This was written for my Fluffy Fall Fantasy event. Feel free to send in requests!

You knew that Bob would be staying late at work. It was something that he frequently had to do because of all of the paperwork that needed to be filed after a flight or a lesson, but it was hard to get used to, especially after you had your third baby. When he ranked up to Lieutenant Commander, he was granted longer paternity leave, and he didn’t need to stay late as often. The baby was six months old, and the other two kids were six and four. It was the first time that he needed to stay late since the baby had been born, and you were on the verge of a breakdown.

When Bob had to be deployed, you didn’t really tell the kids. Deployments were always called “work trips” around them. So, you didn’t explicitly tell them that Bob was staying at work late, but they had somehow figured it out by dinner time. You got the older kids to eat leftover spaghetti with the promise of a piece of candy for dessert. By the time they had finished eating, you had almost entirely forgotten about the candy as you looked at your food-covered children.

“Everyone needs a bath,” you said as you started to clear the table.

“What about our candy?”

“You can have it after you take a bath.”

“But you promised!”

“Yeah, mommy! You promised!” You sighed. The kids were right, but you were just exhausted. Other parents weren’t lying when they said that it “takes a village”. The only thing was that you didn’t really have a village. Your parents and in-laws lived in a different state, and all of your neighbors were a bunch of twenty-year-olds who you didn’t want to bother. The kids were occupied with pieces of chocolate while you took the youngest out of his high chair.

“I want both of you to be ready for a bath when you’re done with your candy,” you said as you went upstairs. The kids were good listeners, you gave them that. As soon as you were done bathing the littlest, your four-year-old walked in with his pajamas. All of the kids were bathed and ready for bed by some miracle, and you put the baby to bed first. 

The garage opening woke the baby up, and you were watching TV in the bedroom that you and Bob shared. It had been a few hours since you put the baby to sleep, so you got your time to relax, but you had never been more excited to hear a garage door open. You could hear Bob putting his things away in the laundry room while you rocked the baby back to sleep, and you smiled and waved as he walked by the room.

“What’s going on in here?” He whispered.

“This little guy woke up when you opened the garage. I think the other two are still asleep, though.”

You looked down and realized that your son was sound asleep on your chest. You slowly maneuvered him to the crib before leaving the room and closing the door. Bob was starting to get ready for bed when you made it back to the bedroom, and you turned off Gossip Girl before joining him in the bathroom. As soon as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you started to cry.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked as he wiped your tears with his thumbs. You sniffled and nodded your head.

“Yeah, today was just really hard. I love you and I love the kids but it was so stressful not having you here. I didn’t even get a chance to clean off the table!” You exclaimed. Bob chuckled and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“You’re an amazing mom. I know it’s not easy being away from our families but we’ve made it work. But this was your first time being alone with all three kids for a while, so I can see why you’re stressed. What do you want to do if I have to stay late for work again?”

You took a moment to think before pulling away from the hug and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Do you think you could see if Penny or Amelia could come by and help out? At least until the kids are a bit older.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Amelia would love that. Do you want me to clean off the table for you after my shower?”

“It can wait until the morning. I’m dying to get back in bed.”

“And I’m dying to get in bed with you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said after you lightly smacked his chest and chuckled.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

[princessmisery666]

Hi Stacey! For the made-up fic titles, how about..."This Hope in My Heart"? 🥰

Summary: Sometimes having hope can hurt, but in the end it all works out. 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: slight angst, fluffy fluff.

W/C: 700

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: Thank you @ryebecca for the inspiration and for allowing me to use your mood board. 

Betas: none. Because these are supposed to be fun and pressure less.

Graphics: @ryebecca made the mood board in the title card - original can be found here

Master Lists: Made Up Fic Titles // Top Gun Maverick

For as long as you’ve known him, Bob has been the perfect gentleman. Whenever you hung out, he picked you up, meeting you at the door, not honking the horn from the curb side. He held doors open for you, always walked on the side of the traffic. He ordered extra fries, even though you said you didn’t want any. He saved the last bite of his dessert for you, which was always conveniently your second choice from the menu.

He’s sweet and traditional and of course it’s perfectly adorable. But every single time he walks you to your door to say goodbye there’s a spark of hope that he’ll kiss you. It’s clear that it’s what you both want and if he weren’t so old before his time you’d make the move on him but you're not sure how he’d react to such a bold move. So every time he walks back to his car, without having kissed you, your hope dies and the sting of disappointment lingers for days.

It soon becomes too much to bear and you find yourself canceling plans with him. It’s easier to not be around him.

He notices after the third cancellation and he calls constantly until you answer.

“Hi,” you greet him quietly, though there’s no one else around. 

“Hey,” he says, sounding surprised. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you for a while.”

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Well I'm not,” he admits firmly, “I miss you.”

“Bob, I…” 

“Can you come over?” he asks, rambling, “I really need to tell you something but I want to do it face to face and I need to show you something but I can’t leave right now.” He must hear your inhale and before you can exhale an excuse not to go over he pleads, “Please.”

As much as you know it will hurt, you agree and the happy smile in his voice is enough to dull the ache of disappointment that's still hanging around since you last saw him.

Bob answers the door so fast after you knock that you're sure he’s been lying in wait since you hung up the phone awaiting your arrival. 

He smiles and hesitantly he pulls you into the tightest of hugs. It’s not until you wrap your arms around him that he admits, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Bob.” 

He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time he lets you go and his boyish grin is contagious. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, suspiciously.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs.

He stops outside his bedroom door and puts a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet.

“Bob,” you whisper, “what’s going on?” 

His smile beams and it is so wide it must hurt his face, but he slowly opens the door and leads you inside. 

Tucked up in the clean white sheets of the bed, sleeping soundly with his head on the pillow is a beautiful golden retriever puppy.

“Oh my god,” you say and quickly clap a hand over your mouth. The pup stirs, yawns while stretching and goes right back to sleep.

“He’s adorable,” you coo, looking at Bob who seems to only be focused on you.

“His name is Mack,” he explains, “I got him for you, well for us. I know you always wanted a dog and your landlord won’t allow pets but I thought he could be ours.”

“Ours?” 

He nods and he has that look that says he’s about to start rambling again but instead he surprises you, striding the distance between you and cupping your face to hold eye contact.

“Ours,” he says, firmly. You don’t know who moves in first but you feel his warm breath ghost over your lips when he says, “together.”

His mouth claims yours and all the hope you’ve ever felt comes rushing back, your whole body hums with elation, and you're sure Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist are the only thing keeping you grounded.

His kiss feels like a promise and an apology for not having done it sooner but mostly it feels like finally forever can begin. 

Tag List Info

Take to the skies: @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @atarmychick007 / @genius2050

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 4 ~ Sharing A Bed

Sisters Best Friends, the morning after. Reader is a pilot.

Bob is already fully dressed by the time you wake up the morning after having the best birthday ever the previous night

He has this loving look in his eyes as soon as you wake up smiling at him after yawning and stretching

"Good morning my beautiful pilot. I hope you slept as well as I did."

Being the cheeky bastard that he is he pulled you into a passionate kiss not caring about morning breath or anything

You don’t need an alarm because it’s the weekend and also because your sister always wakes you up when you sleep for longer than she wants you to sleep

Being in the navy for some long has her internal clock ticking away from early in the morning

Phoenix will bring the coffee up not wanting to wait for you to wake up any longer

Because she loves sharing coffee with you in the morning especially after a night of drinking

Finding that a good pot of coffee can do wonders for a terrible case of being hangover

Natasha is shocked to see that her WSO and best friend is laying on top of you, her little sister, without a shirt kissing the daylights out of you

After that you and Bob had a bit of explaining to do and she left feeling a bit weird at the idea of her sister and her best friend being together

But she quickly got over it a week later when she realises he treats you like a princess

“Just like he should.” Natasha always thinks

And taking care of you while at the Hard Deck that same day, even though you can take a man down twice your size

So after she leaves he treats you like royalty for the rest of that morning, since he can be quite rough during sex

He rewards you for being his “good little girl”

"I was fantastic wasn't I?" he questioned being the cocky asshole he is because he knows that he is the best you have had for a while now

Needs cuddles afterwards because the man is clingy as hell not that you can complain

You guys will make up tons of excuses as to why you two are late Top Gun training

He can't convince anyone because they know he is loud and you aren’t any better

Don’t even get him started on bathroom sex after spending the night in bed watching movies with you and Phoenix

He puts you in front of your mirror and starts brushing your hair to the side while moving you up and down on his lap

You just love each other so much and you are glad that Phoenix caught you because now you can show the world your love for each other

He is the best boyfriend turned husband you could have asked for and the best dad for your little munchkins

Day 3 | Masterlist | Day 5

[callsigndragon]

This is so simple but yet such a big thing for me that gets my heart fluttering. When they remember your Starbucks (and or any coffee shop) order. I’m not a big coffee drinker and when I do I’m a picky gal so I never bother telling people my proper order when they’re picking it up I tend to just ask for a small latte. BUT WHEN THEY GET YOU EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT WITHOUT THINKING AND OR ASKING! Anyway yeah the characters in TGM doing that sounds pretty cute.

Okay. OKAY YOU BEAUTIFUL BEING YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES MY BRAIN TICKLE. I literally wrote it here, not indepth but it's there, that Jake would be the one that remembers your coffee order.

Like pretty much all of them will remember it. Well, not all of them. Not at first, i think. Fanboy it's too busy learning every single thing about your favorite shows/movies and books to learn your coffee order by heart.

Jake has a good memory. Tell him once, and he'll never forget. Like ever.

Rooster's head sometimes can be elsewhere so he messes it up a bit sometimes. But if he gets your order wrong he will order another one and keep the incorrect to himself.

Bob, my dear Bob. This guy literally writes it down somewhere. Like he probably has a list of things you told him you like and things you don't, so he doesn't mess up on dates. Eventually, he learns it. But before that, he will always look it up.

Phoenix will probably hear you order it ONCE and never forgets. Like, you never told her but she remembers.

Coyote and Payback will REALLY try to impress you ordering your coffee but fail miserably. So next time you see each other, they will probably text you to check and make sure they get it right. For once.

[kloofspeaks]

The Flower Shop of Lemoore | A Bob Floyd Fictional Work

Words: 1676

Sneakpeek:

“It doesn’t always have to be your heart,” Bob mentioned, looking up to her with a small blush that looked to be dabbed on from a makeup brush.

“Oh, Floyd,” The breath in her throat fell to the cold floor below, “Is finding someone’s flower.. your desire?” 

Bob took a deep sigh, his hand reaching up and fiddling with the collar of his pink shirt underneath the apron he was wearing, “One of many,” He answered, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke.

Flower four out of twenty

Today's Flower: Queen of the Night - Fulfilling desires of the Heart, Motivation

Chapter List can be found : here

Dedicated to: @notyoursbutlewis

The records were spinning, Bob was standing in front of the player as he flipped it to the unloved B-side, he perked up when he noticed the familiar ding of the door. 

“Y/N!” He had a small bright smile on his face, he turned around and was met with Y/N holding a record.

“Someone seemed to be waiting for me,” She hummed, holding the worn case of the record, “I had this when I had my record player, figured I would give it to you to play throughout the shop, I also came by for my flower,” she placed the record on the table. 

“You’re a fan of Mac DeMarco?” Bob muttered, “I don’t think I’ve heard his music in quite awhile,” it had been a couple years since he remembered fondly of his friends playing Mac’s music in the car, they would sing it loudly to where his ears would pulse when he exited their cars. 

He wasn’t a huge fan, but he knew Y/N came into the shop a lot, especially since she was looking for her flower, “Well, we could play it,” She suggested.

Bob took a moment, he liked having Y/N around and this album seemed to be really important to her, “I don’t see why not,” He slipped the record out of the casing, switching it out for the one that was playing, he simply lined up the needle and gave it a small crank.

“There we go,” He looked back at her to see a warm smile when the song Let her go came over the aged player, she just loved the static sound that came with each line.

Y/N was smiling like she had been hit with childhood memories, “Thank you, Floyd,” she hummed along with the simple and relaxing tune, “What flower did you have for me today?”

She leaned against the front of the counter, admiring Bob’s uniform, there was a metallic button he had added to his apron, it was of a gladiolus, she thought of Bob trying to change his outfit because of each flower they found together, she figured she was crazy for thinking that.

Why would he do that for her? Change his whole uniform for every flower they came about, every flower he held in his warm and red colored hands, the touch that made her heart pulse and the eyes that stared at her with a warm delight. 

Bob looked at her like she was a flower, the look never changed when he had a flower in his hand, he was truly taking in every detail of her, every warm colored piece of clothing she wore, every curled hair that fell in front of her face.

She was something that was special to his heart, even when he couldn’t spill his mind, she was one of the few people that stuck around, that showed him things about himself he didn’t even know existed.

He swiftly pulled out a pink flower that sparkles underneath the jar lights, “It’s called Queen of the Night,” He held it out towards her so she could get a better look.

“Woah,” She muttered, out of all the flowers they had gone over together this one could simply take her breath away, “It’s so beautiful, Floyd,” She smiled, taking her eyes off the flower to look at his pristine face.

“Yeah, we used to have these sit in the house all the time when I was younger, my mother loved them, she used to admire flowers for their beauty more than their meaning,” He shared. 

“What is its meaning?” Y/N asked, her gaze falling back down to the pink flower, “For such a beautiful flower it’s got to have a big meaning,” 

“It means two things, but we’ll stick with one for today.. The reason I presented this flower was because one of the meanings is fulfilling desires of the heart.” 

“What did I do? I just walked in..” She questioned Bob, her desires were something that were special to her.

“It doesn’t always have to be your heart,” Bob mentioned, looking up to her with a small blush that looked to be dabbed on from a makeup brush.

“Oh, Floyd,” The breath in her throat fell to the cold floor below, “Is finding someone’s flower.. your desire?” 

Bob took a deep sigh, his hand reaching up and fiddling with the collar of his pink shirt underneath the apron he was wearing, “One of many,” He answered, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke.

“I thought you helped someone befor-“ Bob swiftly cut her off, “I mentioned they often got upset of the outcome, sometimes I present a flower that has a negative meaning, but.. yours have all been positive.” 

“They have so far, but not all flowers are perfect, they’re like people in a way, they’re always growing, always changing,” She reached forward taking the flower, “I wouldn’t mind having a flower that means I’m fulfilling your desires, Floyd,” She held it towards the light to get a small detailed look at the flower.

“Well, technically you’re fulfilling your own desires.. you’re finding your flower,” He mentioned, watching her closely.

Y/N looked at how focused he was, she reached forward, her hand shaking nervous, she pushed up his glasses as they were falling from the bridge of his nose, “I guess so,” She whispered, her cheeks growing a warm shade of red.

Bob seemed to back up a step from her suddenness of pushing up his falling glasses, “Y/N..” he breathed out, his eyes looking at her flustered face.

“I know, I’m overstepping,” She looked away from his harsh eyes, his brown and honey gold eyes that she loved to stare into, they just drew anyone in.

“No, you’re not, I just didn’t expect you..”

“To do such a thing?”

“Sort of..” 

“Well, I did,” She still held the flower, looking at it instead of Bob’s reddened face, she could hear the calming lyrics of the song that played on the player.

/ love is like a flower / but when the flower dies / you’ve got to say goodbye / let her go / 

“And I don’t have a problem with it,” Bob said with a bold confidence she had never seen in him, “You can push up my glasses anytime..” 

“As long as it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me,” Y/N answered with scraped up confidence she found in the back of her mind, her lips were wiggled, her eyes were looking everywhere but Bob, she was getting embarrassed, awkward, she soon enough wasn’t going to be able to carry on the conversation.

“It’s always okay with me,” Bob answered quickly, his eyes still staying on her face, her flustered and pink colored face. 

“I should probably head home, Floyd,” she answered shyly, her fingers fiddling with the weak stem of the flower that sat in her hands. 

“Really? Your bus doesn’t.. come for another fifteen minutes,” He flicked up his wrist to check his watch, “Yeah, fifteen minutes..” 

“Have you been keeping count?” She hummed with amusement, her embarrassment fading, “I have to head out early, Bubbs.”

She patted his shoulder in a taunting way, “Is that a new nickname?” Bob questioned, tilting his head, 

“Perhaps.”

“I’ll see you, Floyd,” She gave him a small wave, turning to head out to the door, glancing to the small snowflakes outside of the window, she stopped dead in her tracks, her boots making a loud noise on the clean floors making Bob freeze and look back at her right when she looked at him,

“Have I given you my number, floyd?” She asked him, she didn’t check her phone much, she was so used to being filled with work she never checked the thing.

“I don’t think you have,” Bob mumbled, his tone low and suddenly shy. 

“Well, here,” She made her way back to the counter, grabbing a sharpie from the back of the register and grabbed the case of the record she gave to him, she wrote down her number and gave it back to him, “There you go! Text me anytime, Floyd, I’ll see you tomorrow..” 

She smiled, finally heading out of the scented shop, Bob was left looking at the case that had her number on it, it felt like they were growing closer, that they were bonding over something that Bob loved.

The moment she stepped out of the door, the song ended, he glanced back at the spinning record, one that had been covered with dust and smelled like age when he pulled it out of the old case. 

He could tell it was dear to her, he just didn’t know why, she never spoke much about her life other than her poor relationships she had held in the past, the ones she had set herself apart from.

He watched her, he watched her look at the flowers he gave her with absolute love, it was just like the way he looked at her. 

He had fallen head over heels for her, but he couldn’t be open, he couldn’t share his feelings, he figured he would wait- 

wait for the right moment. 

The moment when he could tell her the truth and share his love of her and everything she did. 

But for right now, he had to let her go, had to let her walk away from him every evening after she stepped in after her boring shift at her office job. 

Her job she claimed was time consuming and boring, she didn’t do much from the looks of things.. She seemed to look forward to the days they spent together. 

He wished she could give him a flower that showed him she felt the same- or just spoke the old words that were understanding to his damaged ears, she could heal them with a single touch. 

She could heal his heart with a simple touch, but the words of love couldn’t leave his mouth.

Not yet, 

He could wait. 

Couldn’t he? 

[fyrewalks]

“  if you don’t turn that alarm off i’m gonna throw it out the window.  ” // @a1truist

Bob usually prides himself on the fact that he has his life together. He's got his dream job, friends and family, and what he hopes is a healthy balance between the two. He even sets his alarm on the weekends, eight am because he isn't a complete monster; if he's lazing about, it's a choice rather than accidentally sleeping the day away. Right now, he wishes he weren't so put together.

"That's my phone," he groans into the mattress before rolling on his back and blinking blearily at the ceiling. There's no heat behind the words; he's too tired and he doesn't completely disagree with the sentiment. Jake has no issue encouraging Bob's night owl tendencies. He sits up to silence his phone then settles back down, this time on his side so he can press a kiss onto Jake's shoulder. "Advil?"

[bobfloydsbabe]

I didn’t mean to make this Bob drabble sad, but he has nightmares in it, so… whoops???

[attapullman]

Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!

robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew

“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.

You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago. 

Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”

“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.

The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups. 

As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.

And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?

Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place. 

You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.

“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”

“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.

Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.

When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.

You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”

But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street. 

From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves. 

At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.

“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect. 

The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.

“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”

His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.

Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”

Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.

The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye. 

Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious. 

His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks. 

As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug. 

The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.” 

A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him. 

You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.

“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?” 

The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”

You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.

“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”

A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.

You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”

To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.

Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”

By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.

He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen. 

“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.

Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.

Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.

His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.

Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen. 

Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.

He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace. 

“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.

Your mouth can’t open fast enough.

You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.

Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.

When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”

His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”

“You.”

That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”

The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.

“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.” 

You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?

You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.

As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.

You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.

“Did you still want your tea?” 

He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”

Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both. 

When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door. 

Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.

Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.

You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.

When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.

You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.

see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting

taglist: @callsign-mongoose

[dearsnow]

YOUR REAL BOYFRIEND

- you go on your first date with your “bar boyfriend”, who seems a whole lot nicer than the guy that tried to pick you up earlier. (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff <3, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 but it provides some context)

PART 1

word count: 1,686

a/n - i did not expect part 1 to do so well, omg 🥹 thank you all for the love. if i had the writing stability I would’ve turned this into a series, but there is still time for that yet lol. enjoy this fluffy part 2 <3

You sit in your small apartment anxiously. Your first text to Bob has just gone through, and in the heat of the moment, you threw your phone across your bed and smothered it with a pillow. It was a simple thing, just saying “Hey! I’m Y/N from the bar :)”, and you really have nothing to be scared of, but your breaths are uncomfortably quick in the early morning. It’s like you just took a five mile run. You pick up the book on your bedside table and flip through a few pages, failing to read a single word.

You only put down your fruitless attempt at calming yourself down when your phone gives a muffled buzz from underneath your pillow. You grab it quickly, seeing his just-saved name flash across the screen.

Bob: Hello, Y/N from the bar! I was a bit worried you weren’t going to reach out, but I’m really glad you did.

You: Of course I reached out. You’re a nice guy, I would be stupid not to.

You internally groan before hitting send. He makes your insides turn to mush just by typing on a screen. At this point, you’re scared of professing your undying love.

He is a nice guy, and a polite guy, and honestly an everything-you-could-ever-want guy. You barely spent thirty minutes with the man and you already find yourself wanting to slip a ring on his finger. He’s different, a really good kind of different.

Bob: I’m flattered.

Bob: This might be too soon, but would you want to go out sometime? I know this nice place by the beach where we could get to know each other better.

You: I’d love to!! Lmk the details and I’ll be there <3

As you fling your phone across your bed again to kick your legs, you almost feel bad for it. The man of your dreams is asking you out, and you can’t physically handle the joy that’s pouring out of you right now. You can just imagine his quiet, smooth voice talking away while his eyes light up. When you get the date plan, you eagerly type it into your calendar.

Saturday, 5:30 PM, Ocean’s Cove Seafood and Bar. It’s perfect.

You don’t know how you can get through the rest of the week with the date looming in your mind, but, somehow, you’ll have to find a way to manage.

Your management ended up being text conversations with Bob so frequently it felt like you were always checking your phone for a new message. For the first time in your pitiful dating history, he was the one reaching out often and matching your energy. Talking with him is like a breath of fresh air. It’s almost better than than the fresh air you’re breathing now, walking through the open entrance of Ocean’s Cove. You immediately notice a very handsome man sitting at the table you’re directed towards, with his sandy hair styled perfectly.

As you walk over, he stands and pulls out your seat for you, only sitting down himself when you’re situated. His cheeks are tinted pink. “Hi.” He offers, clearing his throat. “You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you, Bob. You look amazing too.” You say, reaching out to brush against his blazer’s collar. “You always do.”

His face grows impossibly redder.

Just like the first time you met, you fall into the rhythm of conversation easily. It’s awkward, at first, as things often are, but it quickly becomes one of the best talks you’ve ever had. Your food is eaten between giggles and playful comments.

“He seriously made you do five hundred push-ups for someone else’s mistake? Man, you must hate this Hangman guy after he pulled that.”

“Oh, everyone hates him. In a loving way, mostly. Just be glad you’ve never been around him while he’s drunk.” Bob’s eyes are lit up, and the sight is better than you could’ve ever imagined.

You wipe your mouth with your napkin gently, trying to not rub your makeup on the soft cloth. “Wait, what’s he like drunk? He’s gotta be a character.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, and you engrave the sound in your memory. This is amazing. “He gets so competitive, but he’s too drunk to throw the darts straight or hold the pool cue proper. It’s really funny, because he thinks he’s doing well until the darts end up pinned through Maverick’s uniform.”

“Oh geez,” you laugh. “That reminds me of my old friend. She drunkenly spilled tequila down the front of our boss’s suit while trying to impress our coworker.”

“It seems like we’ve got a lot in common.” He smiles. He’s about to say something else, but your waiter stops in front of your table before he can get the words out.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, sir, but we have another couple waiting for your table. We have a three hour policy.”

Three hours? You’ve been here for three hours? You check the dimming light and realize that what you thought was forty minutes was, in fact, a hundred and eighty. Bob pulls out his card and signs the receipt, seemingly a little embarrassed that he also didn’t realize the time. “Here. Sorry for the trouble.”

The card is whisked away before you can even request a separate check. “I would’ve paid for that.”

“No can do.” Bob says, placing his hand over yours gently. “It’s my treat.”

You try to formulate a response to his kindness, but your mouth falls dry. All you can do is whisper a “Thank you,” as the waiter comes back with his card and ushers you out politely.

The outside air is heavy and chilly, cut with the smell of sea spray. As the sun dips below the horizon, you shiver. Without a word, Bob drapes his blazer around your shoulders. You turn to him, eyes slightly wide. “Are you sure?”

The question is about more than just the blazer. It encompasses everything you’ve wanted to say to him, everything that you’ve been worried about from the beginning. Is he sure that he wants to do this? That he really actually likes the person he just so happened to save at the Hard Deck?

“Always.” Is his simple reply. Your hand finds his, and he entwines your fingers like it’s natural. “I apologize if this is overstepping-“

“Do you want-“

You both start and stop at the same time. “Continue.” You say, a smile working its way up to your eyes.

“No, you go.” He insists. He swings his arm a bit, taking your hand with him. You can feel his blazer dip past your hand and onto his, as the sleeves are too long for you.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go down to the beach with me. It might not be good for our formal clothes, but I really like you, and I want to spend more time with you. As much time as possible, actually.”

This time, it’s his eyes that widen. “You read my mind. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

You laugh, a sound that’s music to his ears. It’s perfect, like everything about you. Like your humor and your storytelling ability, like the slope of your shoulders and the softness of your hands. He could spend his whole life drowning in you. “Then let’s go, before we miss the entire sunset.”

You pull him along, your thumb smoothing over his own, and he thinks he’d let you lead him anywhere. “Look, the beach is so pretty at this time of day! It’s like something out of a magazine.” You exclaim, expensive heels digging into the sand. You can’t bring yourself to care about washing the sand off, not right now.

“It’s almost as pretty as you.” Bob breathes. He doesn’t expect you to hear it, but you do. You turn around and slide your palm over the smooth fabric of his shirt, playing with the collar, before kissing his cheek softly.

For once, you take initiative in your movements. You can’t let him slip away; you think you’d be devastated if you didn’t see him again, if you never told him exactly how you feel. “I’d say it’s nowhere near as pretty as you.” You can tell your face is warm, and his definitely is. “We need to do this again.”

“For sure.” He murmurs. His expression is conflicted, and you feel a small bit of insecurity bubbling up. Does he not want this as much as you do? He takes a small breath of air, eyes flicking up to the sky for a brief moment. His glasses slide down his nose just a bit, but he doesn’t push them up. He’s only focused on the words timidly making their way out of his mouth. “Please stop me now if you don’t feel the same way.”

“If ‘feeling the same way’ means wanting to continue talking, I wouldn’t stop you for the world.” You can feel a hint of anxiety in your tone. Bob takes both of your hands, and the small butterflies are eaten by larger, rougher butterflies. Think atlas moth sized butterflies.

“In that case,” he almost whispers, “would you let me be your boyfriend? For real this time. And I won’t hold it against you if you say no, or want to wait, because I know we’ve only really been talking for a week, and-“

You cut him off with a kiss. His lips are soft and don’t demand anything from you. He reaches for the back of your head, cradling you like you might break. When you finally break away, his glasses are just a bit crooked. You reach a hand up to fix them. “Yes. Yes, I’d love it if you were my real boyfriend.”

“Awesome.” Is all he can manage to say. You giggle anyways, placing your hands on his chest.

“Next time, if a creep hits me up in a bar, we won’t have to lie.”

He places a sweet kiss on your forehead. “If I’m there, I hope he wouldn’t even think to try.”

Taglist: @seitmai

[ohtobeleah]

Cards Close to the Chest // Bob Floyd

Summary: When Bob & Phoenix fall from the sky, Bob’s closest kept secrets come to light as two of the most important people in his life race to his side.

Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!reader. Fluff (poorly written) Mild cock-sure Jake Seresin. Hospitals. F18 accident. Wholesome read.

Word Count: 3k

Author Note: I was just feeling some fluffy Bob content and I thought this would be a good way to break up the tension with all my over dramatic angst/whump. Thank you so much to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading this for me! Vee did gods work with this one.

Main Masterlist | Bob Floyd Masterlist

No significant other wants to receive that call. That dreaded call that tells you that the inevitable has happened. That phone call that sucks all the air from your lungs and replaces it with cement. The very phone call that alters your perception of life, of time, of all the small arguments you ever had with the person you love so dearly. It's the phone call no significant other wants to receive. 

“Is this Mrs Floyd?” The man on the other end of the line asked with a cautiousness that told you he really didn't want the answer to be yes. Your daughter, Millicent, sat in her high chair smashing bananas all over the surface of her tray. Getting to know the texture of the latest solid you had introduced her to. 

“This is she? May I ask who's speaking?” You didn't mean to come across as defensive, but the panic inside your chest had well and truly begun to bloom. Your eyes lingered over to the pair of spare reading glasses your husband left lying around the small apartment the two of you and your young daughter had been staying in. If this was the phone call, the very phone call that was about to alter your life forever you couldn't help but to think of the last time you saw your husband wear those frames. 

“Mrs Floyd, Y/n, my name is Pete Mitchell, Captain Mitchell, or Just Mav will do–” The man on the other end of the line rambled off the list of names he went by. You didn't care all that much, but you let him go on. Your eyes drifted back toward your daughter, the very embodiment of half you and half your husband. Robert Floyd. In your mind, you prayed to whatever god was listening that this wouldn't be the phone call every military spouse dreaded. 

“There was an accident during a training exercise your husband was involved in this morning.” The words all sounded broken and inaudible, all but the few key details.

‘Husband’ ‘Involved’ ‘Accident’ 

“Is he–” Mav knew what the question was going to be, so he gave you no chance to ask, he wanted to be the one to call, he wanted to be the one to tell you that although your husband had been involved in a training accident, he was still in one piece and very much alive. 

“He's alive, still very much in one piece ma’am–” Mav caught himself smiling ever so slightly, despite the looming knowledge in the back of his mind that the situation could have been a lot worse. “They want to keep him overnight for observation, so if you'd like to come in and see him, I'm sure Bob would really appreciate it.” 

The sigh that left your body, the shock that overwhelmed you, the tears that stained your cheek you weren't aware were there all told you one thing—you couldn't live without your husband. 

“O–okay.” You nodded to yourself as if the man on the other end of the line could see you. “Y-yes, I’ll, uh, just get our daughter sorted and I'll be right in.” 

It was then Maverick’s turn to sit in the deafening silence that threatened to consume his entire being. Bob had a daughter? That added a whole other layer to the incident he hadn’t accounted for. 

Bob kept that card close to his chest, his daughter, Mille, was his pride and joy. 

“Try to keep in mind he's okay Mrs Floyd,. Your husband’s a very skilled weapons system officer and his training truly saved his life today.” You hadn’t taken your eyes off your daughter since you remembered how to breathe as you stood in the middle of the small apartment kitchen. She was so innocent, so young, so mesmerised by her dad that she would have known something was wrong if he didn't come home. 

“It's never been my husband's ability that I doubt, Captain Mitchell.” You replied as you wiped away your tears and reached for a sponge to go about cleaning up your daughter's high chair mess. “It's the system he works for that keeps me up at night.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake Seresin had never been so relieved when he was told that both Bob and Phoenix were alright and almost injury-free. Phoenix had a few bumps and bruises, a minor cut on her forearm, and a minor concussion that would surely see her grounded for a week at the minimum. 

Bob was the same, only his ribs had taken a pretty nasty beating when he hit the ground with an unprecedented amount of force. Still, the usually arrogant, somewhat self-loathing, and above all infuriatingly good aviator wasn't about to say how relieved he truly was. 

But he did, however, offer to take Phoenix some personal belongings for her overnight stay in the chateau short-stay ward of the Miramar Base Hospital. 

“Just hold on a minute, sweetheart!” 

Jake didn't mean to stick his nose where it didn't belong, but the ear-piercing cries of a child that couldn't have been any older than one broke him out of his mid-afternoon trance. The carpark at the Base hospital was packed to the rafters, but surely there would have been a parent’s park closer to the entrance? 

Jake wished with every fibre of his being that he could have kept walking, he wished he just could have kept putting one foot in front of the other. But his mother raised him right. With a heavy sigh and a regret deep in his chest, Jake doubled back a few paces and turned his attention to the woman struggling to get up the stroller. 

“Ma’am, I hate to be a bother but do you need a hand?” 

“Me?” You turned around to address the man who’d been the only person to stop while others had walked right on past and whispered under their breath. Some had even stopped to watch, but no one had offered a hand. “Yes, yes please I just need someone to–” 

Assessing the situation, Jake was sure he knew what the issue was. 

Within a few seconds of you trying to explain what was wrong, the man who’d stopped to help had placed the bag he was carrying over his shoulder down onto the ground and stepped hard onto the safety that was jammed. 

“How did you know to do that?” You asked with a look of disbelief as you immediately raced around to grab your daughter out of the car. She was distraught. “Shhh, I’m here, see I told you just a few minutes, didn't I baby?” You tried your best to soothe the crying tot. 

“My sister has the same stroller, gets jammed all the time.” the man smiled politely as he stood by the now perfectly erected stroller. “Jake, Jake Seresin.” 

“I recognise the callsign–” You replied when you finally allowed yourself to take in what the man was wearing. The same Nomex flight suit your husband frequented more often than not. “Yeah, Hangman, you work with my husband.” You beamed as you bounced your daughter softly until she was calm enough to be placed into her stroller. 

Jake was racking his brain trying to figure out who the hell your husband was. He thought he knew everything about everyone he worked with. From the secrets Rooster tried to keep to the fact Payback had a raging nut allergy. BuUt a wife and child? Who the hell had a wife and child and hadn’t bothered to mention it? 

“I work with your husband?” Jake repeated back to you like he was still trying to play catch up. “Sorry, I must be having a mind blank, with all due respect to your husband.” 

“Bob Floyd?” You mentioned your husband's name like it was honey on your tastebuds. Jake truly couldn't compute what you were saying. Bob fucking Floyd was married? Bob Floyd had a kid!? “He had a training accident earlier today with his front seater, scared the absolute hell out of me.” You tried to laugh, but you weren't about to mention to Jake that you'd spent the better half of forty-five minutes in the shower with your daughter having a full-blown panic attack after Mav had called. 

“You're Bob's wife?” Jake asked with a frown that was so deeply indeed on his forehead you truly weren’t sure what was so wrong about the fact you were Bob's wife. “Bob has a wife?” As you clipped your daughter in, Jake picked up the bag he’d been carrying up to the entrance of the hospital before he stopped to help you. 

“Together seven, married for three.” You proudly smiled as you started walking your daughter’s stroller towards the hospital. Jake kept himself in line, walking by your side as he tried to compute the information he was being delivered. “Bob’s a pretty private person, please don't be offended if he didn't tell you we existed.” This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last time you were left to explain that yes, your husband was in fact your husband. 

The chuckle that left Jake's mouth told you it wasn't about being offended. 

“No Ma'am, no offence taken–” He explained through the shit- eating grin. “I just wasn't aware Bob had it in him is all.” The idea Bob had a wife was an easier pill to swallow than Bob having a whole ass child. In Jake's mind, Bob was far too ill-equipped to know how to use what he had. Or at least that was the rough opinion he had of the wallflower-esk weapons system officer. “But it's nice to know the guys got a family.” 

“He does, he’s got us–” You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears. “Isn't that right, Millie girl?” 

Jake had never stopped to wonder what the loves of his coworkers were like. Sure, he knew Phoenix and Rooster prior to their return to TopGun, but never once had he stopped to think if Bob had a family. 

“He’s a real lucky guy.” Jake confirmed as he walked with you. “Gorgeous wife, cute kid, I'm sure he’s gonna be really happy to see you after the day he’s had.” 

***~***~***~***~***~

In all the time Bob had flown for the United State Navy, this had been his closest call with death. The bed sheets that covered the small hospital bed scratched at his exposed skin. The paper-thin hospital gown that now adorned his body left little to the imagination if he stood. 

The very last person Bob expected to see enter his hospital room was Jake Seresin. Bob thought he was having an all-out nightmare when the cock-sure aviator walked in with a shit-eating grin as wide as his cheeks would allow him. 

“No–no absolutely not.” Bob shook his head in utter disbelief. “You don't get to come in here and give me shit after I fell hundreds of metres out of the sky.” It had been a rough day to say the very least and all Bob wanted more than anything else in the entire world was to hug you and his baby girl. “Hangman, I'm so serious right now–” Bob pressed as Jake stood with a proud chest and that smug ass grin by the door of his hospital room, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. 

“You know, that's no way to talk to the man who saved your damsel in distress wife in the carpark–” Jake replied as you rounded the corner and pushed your daughter’s stroller into the hospital room. “Funny, I don't think any of us knew you were married, Floyd.” 

Bob's demeanour immediately softened as you made your way over with tears of mixed emotions welling in your eyes. Bob’s eyes mimicked yours, those baby blue eyes were quick to fill with clear but heavy tears as you sat on his bedside. 

“I'll leave you guys alone.” Jake knew when to leave a room, and he had someone else to go see after all. Phoenix, probably the only woman on the planet who could keep his ego from inflating to new heights. “Put some WD40 on the safety of your daughter's stroller too. It's starting to lock up–” Jake made sure to tell Bob before he left the room, still carrying the bag full of Natasha’s personal belongings he promised he would hand deliver. Bob's precious cargo however, the family that loved him to the moon and back and three times over, seemed like a more pressing delivery to complete first. 

“Bob–” Your hands were on your husband's cheeks the second Bob leaned in to kiss your lips ever so tenderly. The pads of your thumbs worked to wipe away the tears that spilled over his lower lash line, staining his cheeks with a salty layer of tears. “What on earth am I gonna do with you, hey?” You smiled through the kiss, speaking against your husband's supplye lips as he tried to keep his composure. “Falling from the sky like that? You scared me half to death.” 

“I’m sorry–” It was the first thing Bob was able to muster as you pulled away and reached down for your little girl. “I'm so sorry. Phoenix got us out of a pretty rough spot, she's the reason I'm still here.” 

You’d never met the woman who was currently flying with the love of your life, but you had to trust her. There was no room to not to. 

“Someone was enjoying her banana mush when Captain Mitchell called.” You explained as you picked up your daughter and handed her to Bob who was waisting with open arms and bright eyes. He was so relieved to be able to hold his daughter again, you could see that much as clear as day. “Isn't that right Millie, yeah–yeah, Dad really threw a spanner in the works, didn't he?” 

“Hey, baby girl.” Bob mumbled into the crook of his little girl's neck as he held her close to his chest. The burn in his ribs was worth it as she used his thighs as a stable surface to tiptoe on. “Oh my goodness, I can't even begin to explain how much I love you both.” 

“We love you so much.” You leaned in once again to kiss your husband's lips. “I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You don't get to scare me like this again, okay?” 

Bob knew that you knew he couldn't promise you that, that was the worst part. He knew this could happen again and possibly be a worse outcome than this. But Bob also knew you needed reassurance he was here, that he was safe and that he wasn't going anywhere. 

Death himself would have to drag him down to hell kicking and screaming before he ever left you. 

“I'm not going anywhere baby, not now, not ever.” Bob cooed as he kissed you back, thankful he got to come home to his girls after such a life-threatening accident. The WSO knew he would have to see a shrink before getting in the cockpit again. How he was going to explain away the nightmares of leaving his wife a widow and his daughter fatherless he’d never know. “I’m here, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere.” 

“Phoenix, I don't think you're supposed to be walking?” Jake's voice echoed down the hall as you and Bob looked towards the door of his hospital room. There, in the doorway, stood Natasha Trace with wide eyes and shocked horror written all over her face. It was clear to you at that moment that Bob hadn’t told her either, Bob hadn’t told anyone about you or his daughter. You were the two closest cards he kept close to his chest. 

“You have a family!?” Phoenix asked almost as if the answer was unclear. “Bob, you have a family and didn't tell me? Didn't tell any of us?” There was a rhyme to Bob's reasoning as to why he kept the two of you a secret. Bob just wanted something all for himself. He liked to keep his work life and private life as separate as possible. The Navy could be all-consuming on its best days, coming home to you and knowing not a single person could interrupt or stop by was simply the best version of heaven neither Bob could ever think of. 

He just wanted his family all to himself, something the Navy couldn't control, couldn't touch, couldn't taint. 

“Nix, this is my wife, Y/n, and my daughter Millicent.” Bob introduced the pair of you softly. “My best girls. “My whole world is in these two.” 

You sent the clearly distressed aviator a simple smile and a soft wave as you stood from your husband’s beside. You understood this was a lot for her to take in. The idea that her WSo had more to lose than she ever thought. 

“I'm still getting over the fact you have a daughter.” Jake interrupted from behind Phoenix as you walked closer to where she stood to take her in a warm embrace. 

“Jealousy is a disease, Seresin, I can tell you exactly how I made my daughter too if you want?” Bob held his daughter in hips lap as she babbled to herself as he helped her stand on her feet. She wasn’t walking yet, not even close. But she loved to stand. 

“My husband tells me you’re the reason he's still alive.” You spoke to Natasha like she deserved to be told this accident wasn't her fault. It could have happened to anyone. It shouldn't have happened to your husband and his front seater, but that was the luck of the draw–and you were blatantly aware it could have been much, much worse. 

“So, thank you for making sure he gets to come home another night.”

***~***~***~***~***~

[callsign-joyride]

Fluffy Fall Fantasy Masterlist

Welcome to the Fluffy Fall Fantasy! This is the event masterlist, but the original post with the prompts can be found here.

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

Love of My Life

It's Nice To Have A Friend

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

Love of My Life

Chicken Noodle Soup

It's Nice To Have A Friend

JAVY "COYOTE" MACHADO

Delicate

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD

Head Over Heels

RHETT ABBOTT

JAVIER PEÑA

WARREN ROJAS

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hello!! I love your work so much ❤🥰. I wanted to know if I could request something with Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia? Something fluffy, loving with him?

Thank you so much ❤🥰

Dr Cupid.

Synopsis - Mickey Garcia passes out in hospitals. Luckily, this time there's a pretty nurse there to catch him.

Pairing - Mickey Garcia x Nurse!Reader

Warnings - a little cursing, a lot of tooth rotting fluff. mentions of blood and hospitals. brief abuse mention.

Age Rating - 16+

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - thank you for this request!! i love mickey so much. i've been a HUGE danny ramirez fan for years, so i was so excited when he was cast in top gun, and mickey did not disappoint. an angel <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You pull back the crinkly blue curtain with a bit too much force, startling the man sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sorry!" you apologise, closing it behind you. "These things are always lighter than I think they're going to be."

"It's alright, ma'am. No worries."

He's handsome. Really handsome. Big blue eyes, golden blonde hair, an air about him that exudes intelligence and compassion. You smile at him gently before retrieving his chart, giving it a once over quickly.

"Lieutenant Robert Floyd. United States Navy."

He introduces himself, shaking your hand formally. You tell him your name, and he repeats it carefully.

"Pretty name."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Please, call me Bob."

"Thank you, Bob."

He smiles at you bashfully, nodding his head.

"So, Bob, what seems to be the problem today?"

"Training exercise gone wrong. I'm clumsy. You can probably tell by my medical history."

You look over the chart, and laugh softly.

"So you are. What happened this time?"

"It's just a little cut, on my shoulder. I fell onto it, onto the tarmac. I told everyone I didn't need to see a doctor, but they insisted."

"Well luckily for you, I'm a nurse," you wink, chuckling when he blushes. "Let's get this shirt off you so I can take a look. You mind if I cut it?"

"Go ahead."

You cut a line clean down the middle of his t shirt, an old, grey thing. It falls off of him, allowing you to see his shoulder wound.

Just as you're about to explain your next steps, the curtain flies open, a man in a flight suit rushing in.

"Sir, can I help you?"

"He's with me. He's in my squad," Bob reassures you. "Fanboy, you don't have to be here."

"I want to be."

"Fanboy?" you ask, confused about the unusual name.

"It's my call sign. We're pilots. US Navy."

"Why didn't I know they had pilots in the navy? I thought that was the air force."

Fanboy grins at you, all gleaming white teeth, before holding his hand out for you to shake.

"Lieutenant Mickey Garcia. Weapons Systems Officer."

You tell him your name, followed by 'nurse', which makes them both laugh.

"Well, Mickey, if you take a seat, I'll patch up Bob here and you can both get back to flying your jet planes."

Mickey steps around you, eyes darting over Bob as he goes. He catches sight of his bleeding shoulder, and all the colour drains from him.

You've seen this before.

He goes pale, and then wobbles on his feet. You stride over and wrap your arms around him, catching him as he passes out.

"Shit," Bob swears. "I'd help, ma'am, but I'm a little out of commission right now."

"It's alright," you chuckle. "This happens a lot. I'm stronger than I look."

You manage to walk Mickey backwards, sitting him in the chair that you originally sent him towards. You cradle his face in your hands, holding up his head. His eyes flutter open, straight onto you.

"Did I die? Is this heaven?" he whispers.

Both you and Bob try not to laugh as you check him over.

"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant. You're in the hospital, visiting Bob. He's hurt his shoulder. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he murmurs, embarrassed.

You grab him a cup of water, placing it into his hand carefully.

"You okay?"

His big brown eyes are locked on you, not leaving for a minute. He's beautiful, you realise suddenly. Yes, Bob is handsome, but Mickey is beautiful.

"I get a little weird around blood."

"You're telling me."

The smile he gives you is enough to move mountains.

"Okay, Garcia, listen up. You're gonna sit here and drink your water. Take big, slow, deep breaths. And do not, under any circumstances, look at Bob, okay? Keep your eyes on me, no matter what."

"Yes ma'am."

You leave him in his chair, returning your attention to the blonde. You take a good look at the wound, and decide it'll need a couple of stitches.

"I'm gonna clean this up for you, and sew it shut. I'm sure you'll heal fast, being a healthy pilot and all."

You glance over at Mickey, and see that he's still watching you. Gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"Bob, I won't lie to you. This is going to hurt. Feel free to hold onto me if you need to."

You numb his shoulder, before getting to work stitching it up. You flick your eyes to Mickey intermittently, smiling gently when his stare meets yours.

"Garcia, did you bring any spare clothes? I had to cut Bob's shirt off. I doubt he wants to walk out of here shirtless."

"Yeah, Phoenix has a bag in the waiting room. I'll go and grab it."

You watch him carefully as he stands, making sure he doesn't pass out again. He leaves, and Bob grins at you.

"He likes you."

"Everyone likes me, Bob. I'm a good nurse."

"No, he likes you. That's the quietest I've ever heard him sit. And he took your orders. He doesn't do that for anyone."

You shake your head, smiling as you do it.

"Are you single?"

"Very forward, Lieutenant."

"For him, not for me! You're beautiful," he justifies, "but I'm sort of dating my copilot."

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated."

"Then make it uncomplicated, Bob."

He thinks for a moment, before nodding.

"You're right. I'm going to talk to her."

Mickey comes barging back in with a t shirt in hand.

"Phoenix packed you an overnight bag, just in case. She says this is your shirt anyway."

You look at Bob and wink, chuckling when he blushes.

"Anything else, ma'am?"

"That's all. You've been a perfect patient Bob," you say, squeezing his other shoulder. "If you go to the desk, they'll give you some spare dressings for when you need to change it. Besides that, just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay. Understood. Thank you, for everything. I appreciate it."

The two of them leave in a flurry of thanks, Mickey casting a longing glance back at you. You can hear them bickering on the other side of the curtain.

"Fine!" you hear Mickey say, before he reappears.

"Uh... hi."

"You forget something?" you ask, looking around the bed.

"Yeah. To ask you out."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, corners of your lips twitching.

"And to apologise. For before. Passing out, and all. I, uh-"

He scratches the back of his neck nervously before perching on the edge of the bed. You move to sit next to him, leg pressing into his.

"I practically grew up in a hospital. My Dad wasn't a nice guy, so my Mom was here all the time."

You lace your fingers with his, resting them on your thigh.

"I used to try and clean up her injuries at home the best I could, but sometimes it wasn't enough. He finally left when I was thirteen, and I didn't have to play doctor anymore."

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"Now, as an adult, I have this crazy reaction to blood. Even just a papercut is enough to have me hyperventilating. I guess I saw so much of it when I was a kid, that I can't handle it now?"

He looks at you expectantly, unsure of what you'll say.

"It's way more common than you think, you know. I have people pass out on me all the time. You're not alone, I promise."

He smiles at you softly, and you're convinced you've never met someone more beautiful.

"I have a friend who works on the fourth floor. She's a psychiatrist - which I know people roll their eyes at, especially men - but, she's really great to talk to. About anything. She can help with phobias. I've seen her do it."

He nods almost imperceptibly.

"I mean... it can't hurt to talk to her, right? Just once?"

"Exactly. I can give you her number, you can give her a call whenever suits you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, your hands still linked.

"Thank you. Bob doesn't love hospitals either, but you really set his mind at ease today."

"Just doing my job."

"Trust me, you're doing a hell of a lot more."

You feel the heat rise up your chest, praying he can't hear how fast your heart is beating.

"I know you probably work crazy shifts here, but... would you like to go for dinner sometime? I'd love to get to know you in a less... uh... clinical setting."

You grin at him, squeezing his hand tightly.

"I'd love to. As long as you promise not to pass out," you wink.

"That is a promise I cannot make."

You laugh with him, shaking your head.

"I should get back to work. God knows this place needs me."

"Of course. Do your thing, SuperNurse."

You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, handing him a card with your number on.

"Call me."

"What time do you get off?"

"7."

"I'll call you at 7:01."

"Deal," you laugh, pulling the curtains back.

You watch as he leaves to join Bob and a woman you assume is Phoenix in the waiting area. You wave at Mickey as you go, the other two pilots looking between you with knowing grins on their faces.

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

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[sarahsmi13s]

Rodeo

(not my gif)

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (call sign: rodeo)

characters: bob floyd, reader, dagger squad, penny benjamin, pete mitchell, some dick named john and his friends (who aren’t necessarily dicks)

warnings: fluffy bob, bob in a cowboy hat, fighting, drinking (of age), suggestive, i believe that’s it

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this came in second place, but i love it just the same. and i’m very close to writing a part 2 for this ;)

quick summary: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

*************

You sat in the Hard Deck, nursing your beer and playing pool with Phoenix when the bell chimed.

You glanced up and saw the Texan himself walk in, hat on and everything.

“Hangman, what the hell are you wearing?” Phoenix asked, leaning on her cue. You looked him up and down, chuckling when you heard his response, “I wear this all the time.” His accent had gotten thicker after visiting his family.

You had all just visited your families for Christmas. It was only two weeks but it had given you all plenty of time to slip back into your old accents.

“Nice buckle, Bagman,” Rooster commented, obviously teasing the fact that the buckle looked like it weighed down the front of his pants.

Jake puffed out his chest, a smile gracing his features, “Thank ya, Chicken. Thought I’d bring it back with me, I ain’t worn one in a while.” Rooster sipped his beer, “You get it at Bass Pro or something?” Jake’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You did not jus’ ask me that.”

You glanced at it, looking at the details. 

“You rode?” Hangman turned to you, his smile returning, “Yeah, best there was.” You hummed, sipping your beer before sitting it down to line up your shot, “What made you quit?” “I wanted somethin’ different for myself. My older brother rode, my dad rode. I did it for the adrenaline, so I thought maybe I could get my high while doin’ somethin’ that had more meaning.”

Before you could retort, Jake had looked at Bob. 

“Since when do you wear hats?” You smiled glancing back at the WSO, who was wearing a reddish-brown felt cowboy hat, before looking back and catching the way his pilot looked at you. “Well, Bagman, you ain’t the only one that grabbed something from home.” Jake nodded in mutual respect before looking back at you.

He took a quick glance down at your belt line, seeing the lights reflect off your own buckle.

“You rode too?” You nodded, taking the final shot of the game, “8-ball far left corner pocket.” You gesture with the cue before taking the winning shot. “That’s game Phee.” Nat rolled her eyes and slipped you a 20.

“So, what was your event?” “Barrel racin’.” “Were you good?” “Best there was,” you winked and sat next to Bob. “How’d you think I gained the name Rodeo?”

Hangman donned his signature smirk, “I could think of a lot of things.” You shoved him, “You’re gross.” “Come on, Ro. That was funny.” Bob shook his head and draped his arm behind you on the booth.

“What made you quit?” Hangman asked as he slipped into the seat across from you. You sighed, “I raced for nearly my whole life. My brother Bryan did too. I could say I got out for the same reason you did, cause it wouldn’t be a lie. But I was always just Bryan's kid sister, or Darrel L/N’s daughter. I made somewhat of a name for myself, but by the time people saw me as me-”

You shrugged, sighing, “I didn’t enjoy it anymore. It became more about the trophies than the experience. So I decided to be the best at somethin’ I was proud of. That could give me a family, like the rodeo used to.”

Jake nodded in understanding, he patted your shoulder before moving on to bother Rooster and Coyote.

Bob sighed and let his arm fall around you and pulled you close to his side. “You didn’t tell me that.” You looked up at him, “Sure I did. Did I not?” He shook his head, “No, and you know I listen to every word you have to say.” You scrunch your nose, “I swear I told you.” He shook his head, “Nope.” You pouted, “Oh, well now you know.” He nodded, “That I do.”

You both smiled and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Bob-” “I know Y/N, I just-” You cut him off by grabbing his shirt and kissing him again. “I’m tired of hiding it too.”

********

Meanwhile, everyone was watching the two of you.

“I can’t hear a word they’re sayin’,” Hangman said, straining a little to hear you both better. “Dude, when is that gonna go away?” Phoenix asked, in reference to his accent.

“Oh, it’s always there, trust me. It’s normally strong when he's drunk or really pissed,” Coyote confirmed, laughing a little.

“Plus, you never complain about Rodeo’s accent,” Jake commented. “Yeah, but it’s cute on her and gets Bob all flustered.” The group hummed in agreement before turning back to the (no-longer) secret couple in the booth.

They watched Bob kiss you, say a few words before being pulled in again.

“Damn, when will it be my turn?” Omaha asked, shaking his head. 

“Bob is so in love with her it isn’t even funny,” Phoenix revealed. “He always talks about her, and they went to see each other's families over our break.” “Really?” Yale asked, crossing his arms.

Phoenix nodded, “He’s been in love with her since the mission in May last year. And I’m sure it’s the same case with her.” Halo nodded, “Yeah, I had to listen to her talk about him all the time. And then Bob would talk to me if you were anywhere within earshot of Y/N. He’s fallen hard, they both have.”

Jake shook his head, his eyes trained on the couple as they talked, “We don’t know how in love he is with her though.”

Everyone just scoffed, “Do you not see how they are looking at each other right now?” Fanboy asked, looking at his fellow WSO and his second best friend. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Jake scoffed, “Cowboys have a special way of tellin’ each other a girl is off limits, other than a ring and a few hickies.” “Which is?” Harvard asked, stepping closer, intrigued.

Hangman glanced around and saw a few guys looking at you, “Okay, when Bob gets up and leaves her alone, one of these guys will try to flirt and Bob is probably gonna see. And being the silent and passive aggressive type-”

“Guys, Bob’s moving,” Payback caught their attention. Everyone shut their mouth and watched how you sat there, a grin on your face as you picked at the label.

Jake narrowed his eyes trying to pick out which guy was gonna make his move.

Coyote hit his arm, “4 o’clock.” Hangman turned his head, seeing a guy high fiving his friends before adjusting his posture and making his way to you.

You didn’t look up when someone sat across from you. 

“You weren’t gone very long.” “Well I just got here,” the guy chuckled, and that’s when you looked up.

You glanced around for Bob, but didn’t see him. 

“I’m John.” “Rodeo,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Rodeo?” You laughed, “It’s my call sign. I fly for the Navy.” John tilted his head, “You’re not from around here are you? You sound funny.”

The pilots, who had discreetly moved closer, dropped their jaws. “He did not just say that,” Rooster hushed out. “Oh he totally just did,” Phoenix smirked, waiting for you to lay into the guy.

You just laughed, “You have no idea how to actually talk to a woman do you?” If that hurt John’s feelings, he didn’t let it show, “Oh, I can show just how I talk to women.” He winked, “If you wanna take a ride?” You scoffed, sipping your drink with an arched brow, “Sorry, pal. I’m not interested.” He scoffed, fidgeting in his seat.

The group knew he was getting frustrated and there was no sign of Bob coming back, so they had to prepare to jump in themselves. Especially Hangman.

“Look, John, while I appreciate the offer, I’m already scheduled for a ride.”

Omaha and Yale choked on their drinks. Rooster and Phoenix smirked proudly, both for you and Bob. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Payback said, leaning on the pool table.

“With who? That cowboy that just left you here alone,” John glanced around. “And doesn’t seem to be coming back.” He looked back at you, “Come on. I could show you a better time.” He placed his hand over yours, gripping it.

You sighed, really just wanting him to leave you alone, “John, you are aware of the rules in the bar right?” He scoffed, and tightened his grip when you tried to pull away, “Yeah, don’t leave your phone on the bar. What the hell does that have to do anything?” You glanced up, smirking.

“You missed a few. There’s also a rule against disrespecting the Navy and women,” Bob looked at the tight grip on your open hand, and the tenseness of your shoulders. “And from what I can tell you’re breaking both. I can get Penny’s attention right now, then you have to buy everyone a drink, or you can leave.” 

John stood up, being the same height as Bob he could look him in the eye. “And if I don’t.” Bob glanced at you and you shook your head, not wanting him to get into a fight when it wasn’t necessary. “Well-” John punched Bob. “Bob!”

Hangman, Rooster and Coyote immediately jumped into action as you reared back.

“Rodeo,” Maverick had appeared, moving from his seat at the bar while Penny moved to the guy's friends telling them they needed to leave. Maverick had caught your elbow, “He’s not worth it. Help Bob, we’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and moved quickly to help your boyfriend, helping him up and grabbing his hat. “Are you okay?” He nodded, wincing slightly when you brushed your thumb over his busted lip. “That doesn’t look okay.”

He shook his head, adjusting his glasses, “I’m fine, Sweetheart. I’ve dealt with worse.” 

As John’s friends dragged him out, calling him a ‘fucking dumbass’ and throwing out ‘I told you so’s, Penny came over with a small ziplock bag of ice.

“Thank you, Pen,” you took it and the damp napkin, pushing Bob to sit on the table. You gently wiped the blood from his lip, “Bobby, I’m sorry. I coulda-” “Stop, don’t do that.” You nodded, “Alright.” He smiled, but it was small so it didn’t irritate the cut.

The group watched. They saw how your tongue poked out in concentration, and Bob’s eyes looking up at you.

“So, Hangman, what’s the thing? How’s he gonna ‘claim his territory’?” Fanboy asked, crossing his arms. “It seems he already has, his eyes are basically hearts,” Payback commented. “That’s exactly why he’s gonna do it.” “Do what?” Rooster asked, propping himself on the table next to Hangman.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, cowboy,” you said as you pressed the ice to his lip. He hummed, “Of course, Princess.” 

He grabbed your wrist gently and moved the ice away from his lip. 

“It’s gonna swell.” “I know a way to make it better,” he sat up straight to look at you and kissed you. You giggled and ran your free hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulled away, he tongued the cut on his lip, “I need a way to show everyone that you're mine. And I’m not allowed to give you visible hickies.” Both of you knew it was too early for marriage, not that it bothered either of you but you knew this wasn’t how Bob would propose.

You smiled against his lips, “I think they know now, Rob.” He adjusted his hat and chuckled. “Now, as much as I love kissing you, this will be sore without ice.” He nodded and let you place the ice back onto his lip.

“You know, I’ve got an idea.” You hummed, “What’s that?”

Jake watched with bated breath as Bob reached up to take his hat off.

Bob placed the felt hat on your head, “There, now everyone knows.” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him. “Bobby…” “I know we’ve only been together for 8 months but-” You pulled him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his glasses were askew and his cheeks were flushed. “I love you too.” 

Bob smiled and looked over, seeing Jake smiling and dancing a little. “I think Hangman’s more excited about me giving you my hat than you are.”

You looked over and laughed, “Oh wow…”

“Do that!” The blonde pointed over at you two. “He gave her his hat, so?” Harvard said, sipping his drink. “In the south, that’s like a proposal. It’s like a promise ring,” Jake was still pointing excitedly at the couple. “Wait really?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah, really,” you confirmed when you and Bob walked over. 

Jake rubbed his neck, “Did you-” “See you dance like a teenager that just scored a touchdown? Sure did,” Bob said, ice pack muffling some of the words.

Phoenix smiled sadly at her backseater, “You okay?” He nodded, “I’ve been bucked off a horse and pull g’s everyday, a punch to the face is nothing.”

Hangman couldn’t stop smiling at the two of you.

“Hang? You okay?” He nodded, “Just happy for ya is all.” You smiled and hugged him, “Thanks man.” 

When you pulled away, you reached back for Bob’s hand. He grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

“Now, if y’all will excuse us. I think my scheduled ride has been bumped up. See y’all tomorrow.” You tipped your Bob’s hat and he waved as you pulled him out the door and to his Jeep. 

********

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

thank you to those that voted for this story and i will be posting the last one tomorrow. i really appreciate all of you that voted! 

if you want more polls for the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @sebsxphia​ ​

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

The Cute One With the Glasses

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Description: When you have to take the little girl you look after to the hospital, you're never expecting to find someone who you'd definitely like to see again. Little do you know that he wants to see you just as much as you do him.

Themes: Hospitals, Toddlers, Injured Toddlers, Mentioned Injuries, Broken Bones

Word Count: 3400

A/N: Hiya, everyone! I've been working on this idea off and on for a couple of months and finally finished it! I don't know why, but I've been on a real Bob kick recently. So have this ridiculously fluffy, cute fic! Thanks to @sarahsmi13s who read over this fic for me and caught one huge plot hole!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

You can feel the panic clawing at you, sinking wickedly sharp claws into your lungs as you force yourself to put one step in front of the other. Your only other focus as you walk is to keep from jostling the small, slight form in your arms.

“You're going to be okay, sweetheart, I promise.” You mutter the words with each step you take, a constant litany that soothes your frenzied mind and valiantly tries to push back the panic. But it doesn’t work. You feel like you're drowning as you scribble out her name in the emergency room, Ivy Seresin, in your looping, jagged handwriting. Your charge is valiant as she grits her teeth, big green eyes glistening with tears as you carefully settle her into your lap after filling out the papers. Her dad is going to murder you for this. When he gets out of his jet and can hear the frantic voicemails you left him, he’s going to march down to the base hospital and fire you.

After all, what kind of babysitter are you? You’d walked into the house for only a couple of minutes to answer the phone. You had rushed back out to the shrieks and squeals of a little girl in pain, lying stunned under the colossal backyard playset her dad built for her when she could walk. You’d bundled her into the car the minute you realized, your mind racing at a million miles per hour while doing your best not to jostle her arm. She sobs wearily into your chest, her soft blonde hair mussed and tangled.

“Miss Seresin?” You startle out of your thoughts, the nurse’s voice pulling you from where you’d been cuddling Ivy. “The doctor will see you now.”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” Your voice is wobbly as you carefully stand up with Ivy in your arms. “The doctor’s going to make you feel much better, and I bet your daddy will be right here before the doctor’s done looking at your arm!”

You feel strung tight, close to tears, even though you’re not hurt at all. Big drops spill from Ivy’s eyes as you set her down on the hospital bed, her small form looking even smaller when the bed is so much larger than she is. It’s made worse when she won’t let you go, either. Her uninjured hand is fisted securely in your soft t-shirt. This is the stalemate the nurse sees when she walks in. She’s a beautiful brunette with a pert upturned nose and a sweet smile on her face. 

“Hello. I’m here to see a Miss Ivy Seresin?” Her voice is as musical as you expect it to be. “And that must be this pretty little girl here?” 

To your surprise, Ivy nods just once before burying her face into your side. Ivy’s not what you’d call shy. Like her father, she’s the life of the party, bold as brass and far more charming. Normally, she’d have leapt at the chance to show someone just how sweet she is.

“Ivy, it’s alright,” you try to wheedle with the toddler who rules your every waking moment. “The nice nurse is just trying to look at your booboo.”

“Yeah!” You smile when the nurse jumps in. “I’m Nurse Willis, and your momma is perfectly right. I just want you to tell me where the booboo hurts!”

Ivy sniffles before finally revealing her little tear-streaked face. Her voice is petulant as she says, “This isn’t my momma. This is Lia. She’s my, uh….”  

Ivy’s little face scrunches up in thought, “my baby-keeper?”

“I see…” You shrug at the laughter in the nurse’s voice. You’d normally be giggling, too, if you weren’t so worried about your charge. “Well, then. It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Miss Ivy and Miss Lia.”

“Now then, Miss Ivy. Can I please take a look at your arm?” The little girl seems to be thinking, but then you see an all too familiar stubborn mood set in like storm clouds.

“No!” The explosion of sound is too loud and quite shrill, and you’re sure half the Emergency Department hears it. “I’m not letting you touch me until I see my daddy!”

“Honey,” You sink onto the bed next to Ivy and try to convince her. “Your daddy had to fly in his jet today. I called him when we were on our way to the hospital, remember?”

But Ivy just glowers in response. 

“His secretary, Josie, picked up the phone. She promised she’d tell your Daddy what happened.”

When the glowering turns into more of those heart-wrenching sobs, you wince and pull out your phone again. You only see the glowing numbers telling you the time - no messages or voicemails. In all honesty, you don’t see a thing from her dad.

“Hey, Ivy.” You soothe, letting the little girl crawl into your lap, uncaring of how much mud is on her shoes as they compact painfully with your shins. Her shoulders shake as she wets your t-shirt with tears and snot. You carefully rub your hand up and down her back in soothing, gentle motions. “Your daddy will be here as soon as he sees my messages! I promise. He’s probably on the way to the hospital right now!”

But your gentle encouragements don’t seem to work. Soon enough, Ivy’s tears stall. But she still doesn’t trust the friendly Nurse as she tries to take her vitals. That’s the scene that the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks into. Ivy’s standing on the hospital bed, stomping her favorite patent leather shoes into the paper liner on the bed, streaking mud on the pristine white. Nurse Willis is sitting on a stool with a clipboard, stifling giggles behind her hand. You, on the other hand, are standing at the side of the bed with a hand on Ivy’s back to make sure she doesn’t fall. Your hair is escaping your braid, your t-shirt is irreparably stained with yogurt from Ivy’s mid-morning snack from before the accident, and you’re wearing mismatched socks and sandals.

The doctor, on the other hand, is resplendent in a khaki uniform, with his dark hair coiffed off of his forehead and a shy smile on his face. He’s wearing big glasses on thin silver frames, and if you didn’t find him incredibly handsome before, you do now. But your reaction to the handsome doctor has nothing on Ivy’s. She gasps, squeals, and practically leaps out of bed before launching herself into his arms.

“Uncle Bob!” Now you’re sure you have whiplash. It’s night and day: Ivy’s reaction to the nurse versus her reaction to the Doctor.

“Hi, my Ivy Girl!” His voice is gruff and sweet as he gathers Ivy up, careful to avoid jostling her arm.

“Where’s my daddy?” You can practically hear the pout in her voice.

“He’s on his way, I promise he is.” As he eases into the room and sets Ivy down on the bed, it hurts a little at how he seems able to calm the little girl down with just a few words. When Nurse Willis can finally start taking Ivy’s vitals, you slump into the hard-backed plastic chair with a sigh of relief.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.” Your voice is quiet as Ivy finally begins to behave for the nurse.

“Oh,” He’s blushing as he takes the other plastic chair. “I’m not a doctor.”

He clears his throat a little as the flush rises. “I work with Jake, uh, Captain Seresin.”

“When Josie came by with your message for him, I got on comms and told him I’d come to the hospital to make sure Ivy was alright.”

His voice is soft and musical, and despite yourself, you find yourself leaning in closer to him, needing to hear more. His cheeks go pink under your gaze, eyes darting between you and Ivy. He follows behind you and Ivy as the Doctor leads her to get X-rays done. Nurse Willis follows you as well, flirting with Bob with everything she’s worth. 

“Thank you for coming down here like this.” Your voice is quiet as you sit once again in the hard plastic chairs in the ER.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something, and you’re hanging on his every word. Then Ivy is squealing, and the doctor’s trying to get her to sit back down, and it’s chaos. The source of that chaos? The one and only Captain Jake Seresin, Ivy’s favorite person in the whole wild world. Your charge is crying again, big crocodile tears dripping down her cheeks as she plays up her pain with big green eyes and pink cheeks.

In all the commotion, you lose your chance to talk to Bob again. Once Ivy is down for the night, what feels like hours and many sparkly stickers on her little cast later, you march your way down into the bright, airy Seresin kitchen. It feels like you’re marching to the gallows. Nannying a four-year-old girl was not in your five-year plan when you graduated with your Master’s degree. Go figure a degree in Ancient History hasn’t gotten you many marketable skills. 

A friend of your parents had recommended you to Ivy and her dad. It’s a pretty sweet deal, honestly. Room and Board, a generous salary, and all the time in the world to yourself when Ivy’s with her dad. The only caveat was how when Ivy wanted you, boy did she really want you. At times, you called her your little dictator in a toddler’s body because sometimes the only way to stave off a meltdown was to give her what she wanted, within reason. 

Jake takes one look at you and pushes one of the mugs he’s holding into your hands. “Why do you look so sad, kiddo?”

“I’m so sorry, Captain Seresin.” The apologies spill out of your mouth like an unending fountain. 

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, kid.” He sighs as he slumps into his chair. The stress of the day seems to exude from his pores as his fingers tap on the mug.

“Ivy’s strong. You did everything right. You made sure she was safe, that she wasn’t in too much pain, and you got her the medical care she needed.”

Something is haunting in his eyes as he stares down into his mug. “I’m glad you were there. It scared the shit out of me when Josie told me to book it to the hospital. When she said it was Ivy, my mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. A broken arm is nothing in comparison to everything that went through my mind.”

You blink and push your chair out with a squeal, pulling the Cheetos from their hiding place in cupboards Ivy can’t reach. It sounds like what the Captain and you both need is some comfort junk food. Coupled with Jake Seresin’s Famous Hot Chocolate™, you’re sure to be comforted.

“I’m still sorry, Captain Seresin.”

“Seriously, kid. I’ve told you to call me Jake probably a hundred times in the past year. When are you finally going to listen to me?”

“Maybe one more time will do it?” Your voice is cheeky as you plunk the bowl of Cheetos on the table equidistant between the Captain and you.

“Fuck, the Cheetos? Seriously?” Jake drags his hand down his face. You’re never going to tell him that you only call him Captain because it pisses him off. You’ve been thinking of him by his name since practically the day you met him and Ivy both. “You know there will be hell to pay if Ivy comes down here looking for one of us and sees these.”

“She’s knocked out after a long, painful day. Her stomach is full of Cheese Pizza and the good painkillers. Baby Girl will be just fine!”

He snorts, picking through the crunchy fried corn sticks for one that’s perfectly coated in artificial cheese dust. 

“So….” His voice makes shivers slide down his spine. It should be illegal for a man to look as devious as he does holding a Cheeto. “I saw how you were looking at our dear old Baby on Board at the hospital, kid.”

“When are you going to make the moves on him?”

“Ummm….” You roll your eyes at him. “How about never?”

“Why never?” He crunches down on the treat while ignoring how neon-orange powder sheds across the pristine kitchen table you’re both sitting at. 

“Because he’s gorgeous. And sweet. And kind.” You’re whining as you sip on your hot chocolate, quiet because Ivy wakes up even if the dog walks past her door with clanking tags. “He’s so far out of my league it isn’t even funny.”

“Did you see how that nurse was batting her eyelashes at him?”

“So?” Jake’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “You were batting your eyelashes too, kid. And Bob looked absolutely besotted with you. Even when you were wearing socks and sandals.”

“Tell you what. I’ll pay for your first date with Bob if you write him a flirty little note and make him some cookies.”

“Only if I make him cookies?”

“No, if you make him cookies and ask him out on a date. If he says yes, I will pay for your date.”

“What if he says no?”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“Even one of those ridiculously overpriced mud pack spa days with Nix?”

“Fuck,” He covers his eyes with his hand, uncaring of his orange-coated fingers. “You’ve got a deal, kid. I don’t know why I encouraged your friendship with our neighborhood firebird, but you’ve got a deal.”

Captain Jake Seresin is known for being cheerful on base. He's never without a grin and toothpick. The day after he rushes off because his daughter is in the hospital, he comes in holding a pair of Tupperware containers in his hands, whistling on his way to his office. The Top Gun class scurries out of his way when they see him coming. When Captain Seresin is smiling it means they’re in for rough skies and he’s likely to get tone on each of their jets at least twice. The Daggers aren’t quite so worried. Over the years since the Uranium Mission they’ve seen the changes in their once rash, reckless friend. Ivy was a big instrument for that change. So was the nanny he’d hired two weeks after he found out about his daughter.

In the two years since then, Jake Seresin’s life has been ruled by his two girls, his daughter and the woman he considers a little sister. He’s notoriously overprotective of them both. He’s still teasing and abrasive, but it’s softened. Thankfully, he hasn’t treated Natasha any different than before while at work. There’s a bit more respect in his tone, but that’s about it. And she trusts him now, trusts him with her life in a way she never did before. Right now, though, Jake Seresin is focusing the brunt of his attention on her WSO. 

Bob’s changed a lot over the years too. He’s still quiet and thoughtful, the type to have a hundred thoughts hidden behind his stormy blue eyes even as he says one. Now he’s bolder, and more confident. He holds his own amongst the personalities of the Dagger squad. She knows he considers Jake a friend now. Little Ivy Seresin adores him too, chattering on and on about her Uncle Bob any and every chance she gets. 

All this to say, Nat knows her WSO pretty well. He’d do anything for his friends, which is why he’d run to see if Ivy was alright the day before when she was in the hospital and Jake was flying. It’s his face when he came back which was new. He’d looked starstruck, far away. There was a persistent flush to his cheeks and Nat wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t want to know why. Obviously Seresin’s got a very clear idea for what’s bothering her unusually taciturn WSO. The two men chat for a little bit, Jake growing more and more animated and cheerful as Bob flushes with big eyes behind his BCGs.

The conversation culminates in Jake handing Bob one of the Tupperware containers. There’s a page on top of the box. Even from halfway across the room, Nat can see the way his cheeks flush even more when he opens the paper and reads the words on it. She’s stalking forward before her plans to be an absolute terror have even solidified in her mind.

“So, Bobby!”

He startles at the chipper sound of her voice, glasses tipping down his nose and his mouth a little oh.

“Whatcha got there?”

If her voice didn’t have the other Daggers gathering around their bespectacled colleague and friend before, they’re definitely gathering around now.

 “Cookies, Nix.” There’s a catch in his voice, his shoulders hunching protectively over the note and the tupperware box.

“I can see that, Bobby boy!”  The smile she shares with Rooster is anything but innocent. “But who gave you the cookies?”

“Bagman.”

That’s all the information Nat gets out of her tight-lipped WSO. A few hours later, she’s sweaty and mussed in her flight suit and trailing behind him. Now, she finally sees the note.

Hi Bob,

I confess, I don’t really know your name. Jake refers to you as Baby on Board, and I know your callsign is Bob. Is that actually your first name? As much as I’d love to interrogate Jake one day as to why he calls you Baby on Board, I think I’d like to get to know you a bit better. I've been calling you ‘The Cute one with the Glasses’ in my head since we met.

I don’t know if you remember me, the absolute mess wearing socks and sandals at the hospital the other day. Jake basically ordered me to make you cookies to thank you for calming Ivy down, and well, you know Jake. If I said no, he would’ve made my life miserable. 

All words about completely melodramatic Seresins aside, I did want to thank you. Ivy was seconds away from a snotty, tear-filled meltdown when you walked through that door. I was seconds away from joining her.

You’re something special, Uncle Bob. Ivy adores you, and you know Jake adores you too, no matter how much shit he gives you. I know I made a less than favorable first impression at the hospital yesterday, what with the yogurt on my shirt and Ivy screaming and everything. But would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?

Lia

XXX-XXX-XXXX

“So, you’re going out with Lia, right?” 

He snorts as he opens the Tupperware container and offers Nat a cookie. 

“You just want all the dirt on our relationship, if we get there, don’t you?” 

Her voice is a little muffled by sweet buttery cookie goodness, the slightly bitter chocolate melting on her tongue when she responds. “Of course I do!”

“I’ve been wanting you to ask Lia out for months!” 

Bob blinks, blue eyes widening behind his frames as Nat grabs another cookie while gesticulating wildly.

“You’ve been starstruck from that first barbecue years ago. But you never got close to her. I don’t think you’ve actually spoken to her in the two years of squadron events. It figures that she asked you out thanks to some pushing from Bagman, because she’s just as shy as you are.”

“She thought I was the doctor in the hospital yesterday.”

Nat grins at the look on her WSO’s face. “Well, it makes sense. You keep hiding behind Rooster or Javy or Payback when we’re at the Seresins and she’s around. It’s about time she noticed you.”

Bob snorts, “Well, it’s a good thing I messaged her already and agreed to meet up for coffee.”

“So you better get Jake to foot the bill for the best date you can give her!”

As if she even has to say that. Nat’s sure her WSO is just as enraptured as her friend is. Bob will be good for Lia, she knows it. Of course she’s going to give them shit. That’s her prerogative as Bob’s best friend and pilot. But she’d be surprised if they didn’t work out. After all, if any two people would be perfect together it would be Bob and Lia.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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