#lt robert bob floyd

[averagewriter-inthedark]

She’s Still Preoccupied With 1985 🎤 | Bob Floyd x Rockstar!reader Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x modern-day rockstar!reader (childhood best friends/romantic), dagger squad (platonic), Bob x female!oc (past romance), male!oc x reader (past romance), The 1985’s!BandOCs (platonic)

Content Warnings: major fluff, angst, profanity, canon divergence (Bob is born in 1985 in this, making him roughly 34 during TGM & 37 in the year 2022), pop culture references, second chance romance troupe, suggestive content and light smut + implied smut (MINORS DNI!!) inspired by the song ‘1985,’ by Bowling For Soup | Female!reader—afab!reader (she/her) | wc: 17.2k

Premise: Join Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as he looks back on his fairytale love story with childhood best friend and real life rockstar, who’s set to perform one last time on the country’s most iconic stage, in her band’s final show of their farewell tour.

Note: so after I wrote ‘It’s A Long Way To The Top’ with Maverick x 80sRockstar!reader, I had inspiration for someone from the dagger squad x modern-day rockstar!reader. I was going back and forth between Rooster and Phoenix, but this anon suggested Bob with a rekindled childhood best friend and I thought that was the bullseye. Once again feel free to imagine your friends as your bandmates, I just gave names to make it easier to write. I do not own any of the song or pop culture references, this is for fictional purposes. Let me know what you think! - Bee 🐝

Songs that are real life songs, but are used as ‘your’ songs in this imagine: ‘1985’ by Bowling For Soup, ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls, ‘Some Nights,’ by Fun, ‘Pompeii’ by Bastille, ‘Payphone,’ by Maroon 5, ‘Let’s Get Lost,’ by Bats for Lashes & Beck, ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go’ & ‘Little Black Dress’ by One Direction.

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Lt. Robert Floyd had seen a lot in his 37 years of life. Growing up on the plains of Montana, there wasn’t much for him until it came time to leave for college. There, life seemed to pass by quicker than the night sky. He’d experienced the hype of a Navy vs Army football game, getting wasted to the point he hated alcohol. Endless nights of studying that paid off when he received not only his diploma but also the rank of Ensign in the U.S. Navy. Then there was that time he nearly married his college sweetheart only to end things weeks before the wedding because he realized his heart belonged to someone else. In his career Bob pulled Gs with his pilot against the speed of sound in an F-18 and most recently, dogfighting SAMs out of enemy territory.

But no words could describe what Bob felt as he stood on the floor of Madison Square Garden with the people he called his best friends, waiting for the appearance of his one true love on stage.

The love that was once thought to be impossible, until fate was like, “These souls belong together. Once the time is right, I will work my magic.”

17 years prior in 2005, Bob was certain he’d never get the chance to tell Y/n L/n he had loved her since they were fifteen years old after hearing her voice on the radio.

“That was Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Since U Been Gone,’ part of her Grammy nominated album Breakaway released last summer. Clarkson is the favorite to win the award for ‘Album of the Year’ at next year’s Grammys. Up next is a new group recently signed to Capitol Records….here is ‘1985’ by, funny enough, The 1985s”

Something about the name of the group and title of the song had an odd feeling swirl through the then college student. Driving the car he was in was his roomate Derek and their buddy Adrian along with Derek’s girlfriend Willow.

Nothing could’ve prepared Bob for the voice coming through the speakers, the lyrics bringing back the memory of when she showed him the paper with them written down in her semi-sloppy handwriting.

“Debbie just hit the wall, she never had it all.”

“One Prozac a day, husband’s a CPA.”

“Bob, you okay?” Adrian tapped him on the shoulder, “You look a little pale.”

“Her dreams went out the door when she turned twenty-four.”

“Only been with one man, what happened to her plan?”

“This has a good beat,” Willow bopped her head.

“She was gonna be an actress, she was gonna be a star.”

“She was gonna shake her ass on the hood of Whitesnake’s car.”

“My mom could definitely relate to that,” Derek joked, stopping at a red light. He too was enjoying the song. It gave that classic rock feel that the 80s music his parents listened to had. Nowadays Hip-Hop and Pop are becoming the main genres of music on the radio.

“Her yellow SUV is now the enemy.”

“Looks at her average life and nothin’,” *guitar riff* “has been,” *guitar riff* “alright.”

Bob, who’s eyes were wide and heart racing, breathed in awe, “No way.”

“Since Bruce Springsteen, Madonna,”

“Way before Nirvana,”

“There was U2 and Blondie,”

“And music still on MTV.”

“Her two kids in high school,”

“They tell her that she’s uncool.”

“‘Cause she’s still preoccupied,”

Tears spring in Bob’s eyes, wiping them away before his friends could see when Y/n sang the final line of the chorus.

“With 19, 19…1985.”

That was how the future naval aviator discovered his childhood best friend had accomplished her dream. Breaking into the music industry. It’d been nearly four years since he’d seen Y/n, the two parting ways after her father took an accounting job in California, uprooting the teenager and her family from their home state of Montana.

They’d grown up on the same street, both their moms teaching at the elementary school. The two had pretty much gone through every grade together considering their school was small with few teachers. Every year they were in the same class, often sitting next to each other and spending time after school on the playground while their moms finished up for the day. Bob spent nearly every moment with Y/n as kids, becoming best friends when they were only five years old. But it wasn’t until the boy was twelve that he realized what a crush was….and boy did he have one on her.

Cherishing their friendship, poor Bob didn’t say anything about his surfacing feelings for his best friend. Even when the news of her moving was announced when they were 16, Bob remained quiet. It pained him to do so but he’d rather have her in his life than risk losing her if she didn’t feel the same.

In all the years Bob Floyd knew Y/n L/n, music was her life. It consumed her entire being with the young girl always humming a tune or singing along on the radio. When she was given a keyboard and guitar for Christmas, Y/n self-taught herself how to play until they could afford to put her in lessons. Then there were the notebooks.

At first it started as sticky notes with a verse or two, then it turned into loose pages of lyrics before finally the teenager wrote them all into notebooks. Anytime inspiration came to Y/n she was writing it down on whatever she could find. Napkins at a restaurant, receipts from her mother’s grocery run, hell even on her arm Y/n was writing lyrics so she wouldn’t forget. Sometimes she’d have the whole song complete before settling on a title, or a catchy title would come to mind but the lyrics would take time. Bob would always get annoyed when she’d steal his pen from out of his hand, but would let it go, understanding she had to write it down before she lost it.

At a football game he witnessed her unable to find a pen in time to write something on her arm before the lyric faded away. The teenager nearly sobbed right there in the middle of the stands, face in her hands as though to will herself to remember. “Are you okay,” Bob whispered, to which he received a sad groan.

“No….please don’t interrupt my thinking. I’m having a crisis, Robby.”

Y/n’s mom, who mentally still lived in the 80s, was the inspiration for her song ‘1985’, Y/n wrote at 15. Bob could still remember the day she raced up to their reserved lunch table, planting the paper in front of him, “Read this,” she was out of breath, but smiling nonetheless. Picking it up, Bob adjusted his glasses and let his eyes read over the words scribbled down that were separated into: intro, verse 1, chorus, verse 2, chorus, bridge, chorus, & outro.

“Wow,” he reads over the lyrics again, brows raised and feeling a connection to the song. It wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact it was likely titled ‘1985,’ which also happened to be the year they were born. “This is amazing, Y/n. Almost like….wait is this about your mom?” As her best friend growing up, Y/n’s mother was like a second mom to him….so Bob knew her obsession with the 80s and how she had plans to be an actress before she and her high school sweetheart, Y/n’s father, got married after college and had Y/n when they were 24. Then they had her siblings afterward and both changed their course of careers in order to raise them. The line that said ‘husband’s a CPA,’ is what really gave it away considering her father was an accountant. Debbie wasn’t her mother’s name, but even a rocket scientist could piece it together Debbie represented her.

Glancing up, he sees her guilty expression, offering a light shrug. “Is it that obvious?”

Bob never forgot that song. Even with all the ones Y/n showed him afterwards and when they lost touch two years after she moved, he never once forgot the song, ‘1985’.

It was a sad day when she told him the news. They were halfway through junior year, college applications around the corner and setting up for SATs/ACTs when she dropped the bomb, “My dad’s being transferred to California.”

The Coca-Cola he’d been drinking nearly went all over his steering wheel when he coughed, her words sending him into shock. “W-what-you’re moving?!”

“Next month,” she mumbled, head down to hide her face from his view. “My dad is there now looking at places for us. In the meantime Mom is dealing with the house while also applying to schools in the area my dad’s gonna be working.”

“Where?” Bob asks after a moment of silence, allowing him to fully process the news.

His best friend—who he was in love with—was leaving him.

Y/n sighed before replying with a sad chuckle, “Los Angeles. You know I would feel excited, seeing it was my plan to move to L.A after graduation, but I just can’t bring myself to.”

“Why?” Bob says softly with a frown, “This is your dream, Y/n. All you’ve wanted was to go there and audition for American Idol—or whatever that singing show is.” He was trying really hard to cheer her up, pushing down his heartbreak all the while. “This is your chance.”

“Yeah, but….” She glanced out the window, “what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t even know if I wanna go to college—which my mom still scolds me every time she gets the chance because she thinks I’m a fool to wanna pursue music. You know how it is,” Y/n gives Bob a knowing look, “she thinks of her life and wants me to go to school before selling my life away to a 9-5. I know she’s looking out for me, but God, let me make my own mistakes.” Her head leans on the window, “If it doesn't work out then that’s on me. But I’m not gonna give it up just because it seems out of reach. That’s what back up plans are for.”

Silence fills the car, the two letting their thoughts wonder. “Promise me something, Robby.”

“Anything,” he doesn’t hesitate.

“Promise me that even though I’m leaving, we’ll still be best friends. We’ll still write letters or talk on the phone…just don’t give up on me.”

Taking her hand in his, hoping she doesn’t feel the slight tremor as the words he so desperately wants to say are on the tip of his tongue, Bob gives her a look of love which she likely would believe is one of sincerity, “you’re my best friend, Y/n. I believe you will accomplish everything you set your mind to. When you make it big, I’ll be cheering you on every second and until then, we’ll talk every day if we have to,” he makes a face after thinking, “though maybe narrow it down to once a week so my mom doesn’t kill me for the phone bill.”

That makes Y/n laugh before reaching over the console to hug him. Arms go around his neck while his one arm awkwardly wraps around her side.

“I love you, Robby,” she tells him, sending his heart soaring. “You’re the only person I can count on in this whole damn world.”

“I love you too, Y/n.” ‘More than what you could possibly know.’ “I’ll always be here for you. Forever.”

He never thought he’d break that promise. But around the time of graduation things became so hectic in Bob’s life on top of the fact he was hurting. Hurting because he loved Y/n, and anytime they would talk on the phone or send letters he was reminded of the fact she was in California while he was stuck in Montana and they could never be together. Bob felt the only way he could save his heart and move on from that love was by cutting contact. It was his fault and he knew it when the letters eventually stopped coming and the phone stopped ringing every Friday. His mother could only relay an excuse to the girl so many times before Y/n eventually gave up. The last letter she sent him came two months after their last phone call, “So much for always being there, Robby. Have a good life, I hope it treats you well. -Y/n.”

He didn’t know what happened to her until two years later when ‘1985’ played for the first time on the radio for the whole world to hear. Tears lined his eyes, the man having to look out the window away from his friends. The flooding of emotion was overpowering, forming a sob in his throat.

She did it. She’s on the radio like she always dreamed.

“That was ‘1985’ the debut single of incoming rock band, The 1985s. Hits the nostalgia I gotta say—I feel we’re looking at some fresh new faces to the scene. Can’t wait to see what they have to offer in the future.”

The prediction of the radio host came true, when in 2006 the group released their debut album Established in 1985. Like their name, it referenced the year all members were born in which included frontwoman and occasional guitar player Y/n L/n, bassist Thomas Quinn, guitarist Farrah Cortez, drummer Xavier Hernandez, and keyboardist Pepper Renolds. All met at the University of California Los Angeles, and funny enough none were students in the music program. They were all in STEM/humanities with Y/n studying sociology with a minor in music, meeting the others when they formed a study group after they all had the same prerequisite classes their second semester.

It was at one of their meetups that Y/n couldn’t help but sing along to Journey’s ‘Faithfully’ and The Who’s ‘We Don’t Get Fooled Again,’ as they played on the little radio in the corner. “Damn Y/n,” Thomas looked amazed, “You got a voice, girl. How come you’re not studying music?”

“Same reason why you aren’t—don’t give me that look, Quinn, I saw that bass in your place when we were there last week.”

Next thing they knew Pepper mentioned she was a pianist who was progressing onto keyboard. Then Farrah said she played guitar and Xavier smirked, “all y’all need is a drummer and you can be a band….oh wait, have I ever told y’all I play drums?”

And thus, the 1985’s were born.

Months were dedicated to them building their sound and learning to be a band all while keeping up with their school work. Y/n was the brain behind all their songs, literally dropping the pile of notebooks onto the table one day saying, “I’ve got at least four albums worth of songs in these…maybe even more.” Working little by little they eventually got the tunes for several that they knew they’d want to release first if they managed to get discovered. MySpace was just starting out and Y/n took it upon herself to be bold, creating a profile for them. She listed her information since they didn’t have a band email set up. That would hopefully come in the future.

It was on MySpace that their lives changed forever.

Roughly after a year of working nonstop to create songs and develop their sound, the band uploaded a video onto the platform for ‘1985,’ in May of 2004. It almost looked like a music video, teaming up with students from the drama programs who were in need of doing their end of semester project. They had someone play Debbie, her husband, the two kids, and a group of extras. Even the yellow SUV Y/n’s mom drove was used as well as a poster of Duran Duran for the line in the second verse. The band would be in clips throughout the video, Y/n singing and playing the guitar. It took them the whole night spray painting a makeshift logo of ‘The 1985’s’ onto Xavier’s drum set.

When they first uploaded the video they were all like, “Even if no one sees it, this was still fun as hell to make.”

But little did they know it was going to be seen by many eyes…..including an executive of Capitol Records.

Y/n was just coming home from her shift at a local diner when she checked her email, dropping the water bottle in her hand and letting out an ear-piercing scream that woke her roommates.

“Y/n, my name is Martin Plaza and I’m a talent exec at Capitol Records. A member of my team came across your video on MySpace and we were impressed by your band and song, ‘1985’. We’d like to set up a meeting if you all are interested and please bring any demos you may have. Email me back as soon as possible or give me a call using the number listed below. Hope to hear from you soon. Regards, Martin Plaza.”

Y/n and the group could hardly contain their reaction at the meeting when Martin and a few members of Capitol Records were visibly pleased with what they were hearing. With so many songs they had recorded, they settled on bringing five, including ‘1985,’ and ‘Some Nights,’ which they were planning on uploading to MySpace next.

Martin and the team had excused themselves briefly before returning with the offer: a six year contract with Capitol Records releasing at least three albums during that period.

You can bet your ass they agreed. Signing their names before the sun could set on the horizon.

Champagne popped that night with Y/n crying against the receiver of her pink Motorola as she informed the news to her family. Her mother cried with her, her dad celebrating in the background while her siblings were like, “Don’t forget me when you become famous, sis.” What made her sad though after the call ended was when she went to dial Robby’s number, only to close the phone with a sigh. It’d been over a year since they last spoke, Y/n unsure where he even was or if he had a cell phone. The only number she knew was his home phone.

Curiosity and slight anger rising, Y/n dialed the number saved as his home landline, not surprised when his mother answered. “Y/n! Why hello, darling, I wasn’t expecting your call tonight.”

“Hi, Mrs. Floyd,” she sniffed, feeling tears prick in her eyes again. Y/n was not used to addressing the older woman by her last name. It felt awkward now to call her by her first. “I know he’s probably not going to come to the phone…but if Robby—Robert is there, could I…could I just speak with him please? It’s important.”

“Oh honey,” that was enough to indicate it wouldn’t happen. Y/n looked up to the sky, heart breaking in two at the fact her so called best friend, who she loved more than anything in the world, had completely discarded her. “Robert is uhh—he’s at the Naval Academy, sweetheart, I can give you his email or cell number—.”

“No-no-no,” Y/n interrupted, stunned by the news. “It’s fine. Uh, just never mind.”

“Honey—.”

“Sorry to bother you so late, Mrs. Floyd. Take care and thank you for your help.” Placing the phone in her pocket, Y/n allowed the tears to flow freely before moving back inside to where the party was. Only she could hardly enjoy it now. Instead she let her feet carry her over to the notebook placed on her backpack, removing a pen hastily from the pencil pouch and scribbling down the lyrics that were screaming in her head. The words that took over the paper went onto become their Grammy award winning singles, ‘Iris,’ and ‘Payphone.’ Iris became so popular it was used in several movies and tv shows after its release in 2006, earning the band the Grammy for ‘Record of the Year,’ to go along with their ‘Best Rock Performance by a Duo/Group’ and ‘Album of the Year’, three MTV moonmen including ‘Video of the Year’ and the American Music Award for ‘Song of the Year.’ Payphone was just as successful, topping the Billboard Hot 100 for 20 consecutive weeks and winning just as many awards as Iris.

Anytime the songs played on the radio or wherever he was, Bob had to change the station or frown until it ended. Deep down, he could feel they were about him—hurting him even more at the realization Payphone was basically saying how Y/n loved him and was trying to move on. Just in the way Y/n sang combined with the lyrics telling a story, it was obvious he had broken her heart. And they weren’t even together. They were just best friends…..who were too stupid enough to not admit their feelings for each other.

His senior year of college Y/n and the group were starting to become big, all the members taking a break from college in order to build their careers as musicians. Often Bob would check in to see how Y/n was, tuning into award shows to watch them perform. Pride and awe filled him watching her sing, living her dream just as he believed she would. He hated that he broke his word to her, and it seemed to affect Y/n whenever she performed Iris and Payphone, putting every ounce of emotion into each lyric.

At 21 Bob had finally entered a relationship with a nice girl from the Naval Academy. The possibility of him reuniting with Y/n was long out of the picture and his friends were getting on him to finally break out of his shell. They had no idea of his connection to the rockstar, but they could tell anytime they were on the radio Bob’s demeanor changed. Abby, a sweet pre-law student at the Naval Academy, was his first serious commitment, the two bonding over similar interests and plans for the future. Hope rose at what it could hold.

Until she and their friends decided they wanted to go see The 1985’s concert.

It was 2007, they’d just graduated and were commissioned to the rank of Ensign’s waiting to be shipped off to their respective duty stations. And Bob was engaged…..but he hadn’t really proposed in the traditional way. It was more of Abby pointing out if they wanted to get stationed together then it was best for them to get married and he just agreed. But a big part of him was hesitant to go through with it.

The news of Abby and their friends' desire to go to the concert made his stomach drop and head spin. Still in Maryland, they had gotten tickets to the show in New York at Madison Square Garden which was only a couple hours away. Abby had went ahead and got them as a surprise for Bob, not telling him until the day before the show.

“You guys go,” Bob initially said, praying she couldn’t pick up on the anxiety in his voice. “I—uh—I’ve got some things to get done—.”

“What things?” She scoffed, shaking her head as she laid out the outfit she planned to wear. “School is over, you aren’t planning to see your family until next week, and you don’t leave for flight school till the end of summer. What could you possibly do tomorrow night, Bobby?” He mentally cringed at the nickname, unconsciously thinking of how Y/n would call him Robby.

This wasn’t a good idea and he knew it. Already he was starting to think of her again. More and more by the second. Feelings were resurfacing, and Bob was fighting them hard. If he saw her on stage it was only going to confirm what he already knew.

That Y/n owned his heart. And no one else would have it. Not even Abby.

In the end, Bob found himself on the floor of Madison Square Garden of all places, wondering just how the hell their friends managed to get the area. The band was touring for their debut album, selling out within seconds and what made it more historic were they managed to get The Garden in their first ever tour. Usually groups/artists had years before they played at the Garden, settling for smaller venues in New York, but the 1985’s had become sensations.

The entire time they waited for the band Bob’s hands were shaking, the man unable to contain his tremor with each minute. Abby asked at one point, but brushed it off as him being excited when he didn’t give her an answer.

He was a little excited….but mostly fucking terrified.

Especially because they were very close to the stage. Like if one of the members happened to walk close to where they were standing they’d be spotted.

Bob should’ve fucking knocked on wood.

When the band came out Madison Square Garden erupted, Y/n belting out the lyrics to their opening number, looking like an actual dream. Her look was more of a modern take on rock n roll but still looked classic. Black leather adorned her body with cutouts to showcase some skin, arms covered in ink from the various tattoos and hips rolling to the beat of the drums causing the crowd to go crazy.

Y/n really knew how to work the stage and make it her bitch.

Bob was mesmerized. Utterly speechless as his eyes glued to the woman he once called his best friend. All he could do was stand there and stare, while willing his heart to calm down by how fast it was beating.

It was to be a two hour show at the least, and Bob didn’t know if he wanted to leave as quickly as he could or wishing the show would last forever. Seeing Y/n up close and performing before a crowd made him feel things he didn’t know were possible. Her dazzling smile, dancing across the stage and playing the guitar was everything he could’ve dreamed for her.

He loved her. Bottom line, Bob loved Y/n like no other.

When their eyes connected 30 minutes before the concert ended, causing Y/n to drop the microphone and throw her off for the remainder of the concert, Bob knew he couldn’t marry Abby.

He wasn’t sure if Y/n recognized him at first, but the rockstar had approached the side he was standing at to interact with the crowd when her gaze landed on his. Eyes widening, Y/n literally dropped the microphone causing the impact to echo through the speakers. Bob’s cheeks went bright red, unable to look away in their 2-second staring contest until Y/n blinked rapidly and cursed.

“Shit,” he saw her mouth as soon as the microphone hit the platform, bending down quickly to pick it up. “Sorry about that guys,” she nervously laughed, eyes glancing at Bob as though to make sure they weren’t deceiving her. A sharp intake of breath indicated she realized it wasn’t a trick. Walking backwards until she was back to the middle of the stage where the band was, Y/n’s tone became flustered, “U-uh, we only got a couple songs left in the show. We’re gonna take a quick five minute break so just hang tight.”

Bob could see the looks of concern from her friends/bandmates as she ran off stage, the group following behind. His heart dropped, rubbing a hand over his face to calm down the anxiety in his veins.

“What the hell was that about?” Derek laughed, “It was like she saw a ghost or something.” Everyone besides Bob agreed, none seeing the way Abby was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

When the band returned for the final act Y/n did her best to not look at the section Bob was in. Unlike everyone else in attendance, the Navy officer could pick up on the fact she was more tense than at the start of the show. Her voice shook lightly when delivering the lyrics to ‘Iris’, although it was as though she was putting more emotion than ever into the song, bringing tears to Bob’s eyes. Y/n also appeared to hold back tears, quickly transitioning the song to their next to avoid breaking down.

‘1985’ was the last in their set, everyone in MSG jumping up and down to the chorus and screaming the lyrics. Y/n smiled the entire time, finally letting a tear slip when the concert came to an end. To everyone it may have looked like the rockstar was overwhelmed with emotion at the fact she just played Madison Square Garden before a sold out crowd. But for Robert Floyd, he knew those tears were because of him.

Especially when they connected eyes again, Y/n’s lip quivering before turning away to hide her face. When she walked off with the band Bob felt his heart go with her.

“You’re hiding something,” Abby said with a soft tone when they arrived back home late that night. It was nearly 3 in the morning, the concert having ended at 11.

Bob tilted his head back, eyes closing to block off the rest of the world, “Please, let’s not do this.” He just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.

“You know, I always wondered why your knuckles would tighten around the steering wheel when their songs played on the radio, or why you look like you wanna cry anytime I sing ‘Iris’ at karaoke, why you can’t even look at me when I do,” she lists off, voice slightly rising. “Then there’s that box of letters you hide in the closet. And….and the photo album you won’t even let me look at. We’ve been together for a year, and you have not once told me you loved me.” By now Abby’s voice wavered, sniffing as she continued.

“I’ve been a fan of The 1985’s for close to a year now, but it wasn’t until tonight I actually read up on them. On Y/n…..” she saw how his body reacted, confirming her suspicion even more. “How she was living in L.A when they got discovered, but she grew up somewhere else…..She’s from Montana. The same town as you, Robert.”

“That’s just a coincidence—.”

“She went to the same high school as you!” Abby shouted, pushing off the wall she was leaning against. “You told me your town had less than four-thousand people—and only one high school. She would’ve gone there, Robert—in fact it said her mom was a teacher at the elementary school. The same one your mom taught at!”

By now Bob had enough, mouth tightening as he spoke calmly to his ‘fiancé’, “What do you want to know, Abby?”

“Who was she to you? Don’t fucking say shit like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’—I saw her look at you,” tears pricked in her blue eyes. “How she looked like she’d been punched straight through the heart. She fucking dropped the microphone—and looked like she wanted to faint! Like you were a walking ghost. And you….you looked the same.” Pausing, she thought back to his face at the concert. There was no doubt Y/n and him had locked eyes, she heard him audibly react despite the noise.

“You looked like someone with deep regret. Someone who longed for a second chance. You looked like someone in love, Robert. Never have you looked at me that way.” Abby waited for him to respond, but Bob was unable to speak, expression unreadable causing her heart to break.

“Just please,” she breathed out, “tell me the truth, Bob. What was she to you?”

Silence filled the room, causing the tension to rise. It stayed that way until Bob finally sighed, face falling as he admitted what she already knew.

“She was everything. She is everything.”

When it came time to ship out two months later Bob was not the married man he expected to be. In all honesty, he was relieved. That night the argument had ended with Bob telling Abby he couldn’t marry her—he’d be hurting her even more if he followed through with it. Never could he love her the way he did Y/n and wouldn't put her through that. Going their separate ways was for the best. Even though he’d likely never be with Y/n, no one could compare to her.

Abby was angry as one could expect but part of her knew it was for the best. What good was it getting into a loveless marriage? She almost resented the rockstar, feeling like she could never enjoy the 1985’s anymore knowing the man she thought she spent the rest of her life with was hopelessly in love with his former best friend, who was the frontwoman of her favorite band. But then Abby took some time to think, and felt her heart break for Bob. She couldn’t imagine what it was like loving someone you couldn’t have.

Ending their engagement and agreeing to be friends, Bob told stories about growing up with Y/n—even bringing out the letters and photo album for her to see. It amazed the woman, flipping through the pages to see the singer when she was a child and teenager. It was almost funny to see how polar opposites the two best friends were, Y/n with her 80s band t-shirts and ripped jeans next to a Bob in his cowboy hat and flannels. As teenagers Y/n dabbled more in the grunge makeup. One photo made Abby laugh as it showed Bob with black eyeliner and glitter on his cheeks.

Coming across the end of the album was a half of a ‘Best Friends Forever’ necklace taped to the page. Abby frowned, “What happened between the two of you?”

This was a question he never thought he’d answer, thinking he’d go the rest of his life without anyone finding out his history with Y/n.

“After she moved we stayed in contact for about two years. We’d call every Friday—send letters from time to time ....” He paused, biting his lip as the frown took over. “But I stopped responding and answering.”

“Why?”

“It hurt too much,” he admitted, hating the way his heart clenched. “I never said anything because I didn’t want to lose what we had,” he looked to the ground, “but then it just became too overwhelming and I thought if we….if we drifted apart then I eventually could move on.”

Abby is silent, glancing at the picture of him and Y/n before looking back at the necklace, “Wanna hear something, Bob? Something you probably won’t believe, but I promise you it’s more likely than you think?” He looks up from the floor, brow raised slightly.

“What?”

“I think Y/n loves you.”

“Not in the way you think, Abby,” Bob deflects with a shake of the head. “And she definitely doesn’t anymore—she hates me no doubt.”

“No, listen to me,” she closes the album, setting it aside. “When did you two stop talking?”

“Around fall of 2003,” he tells her, look of regret in his visage, “in 2004 was the last time she phoned the house.”

Abby thinks back in her research of the band, shoulders dropping slightly, “That’s when they got signed to Capitol Records. ‘Payphone’ and ‘Iris’ came out last year, but Y/n said in an interview she wrote them the night they were signed—which had people confused because they’re sad songs that were written on a night that was supposed to be happy. Don’t you see?” She waves her hand at his now confused gaze, making her huff. “She probably had called your house hoping to tell you the news! Anyone who hears those songs knows it’s about heartbreak. And not the type of heartbreak you get by a friendship disintegrating, Bob. That’s the heartbreak when someone you love with your entire soul hurts you.”

“Abby please,” Bob pleads with her, water lining his eyes. Falling silent the woman leans away, solemn in her expression.

“All I’m saying is she loved you more than you think. And judging by her reaction to you tonight, I think I’m right when I say Y/n would give anything for you to talk to her again…..”

For years Bob thought about what Abby had told him that night they broke up. It kept him up at night especially when The 1985’s came up that day either in conversation or on the radio. There were times he was tempted to write a letter, but life would get crazy with the Navy and then in 2011 he was invited to Top Gun.

Devastated couldn’t even be the right word to describe how Bob felt when it was revealed Y/n had eloped with a Hollywood heartthrob. Not a fan of social media, Bob had just returned back to his squadron after graduating from Top Gun to turn on E! News where they were covering the story.

“Wedding bells are in store for rockstar Y/n L/n of The 1985s and actor Enrique Lorenzo from The Walking Dead. The two have been spotted throughout the year looking cozy at award shows and Lorenzo attending The 1985’s concerts in L.A and Atlanta. An inside source has gotten word the two applied for a marriage license two days ago and earlier this morning had a private ceremony with close friends and family in West Hollywood. Neither has confirmed if they have in fact tied the knot, but I would keep your eyes out. In the meantime, congratulations to the happy couple and we’re looking forward to seeing Y/n’s ring.”

It seemed like all the air had left Bob, turning off the tv in a flash but still pointing the remote as he stood stunned. Then his phone buzzed with messages.

“Honey, just checking in. Call me when you get home,” was from his mom, trying to avoid the obvious elephant and would rather discuss it over the phone.

“Have you heard the news?” Abby wrote. “I’m so sorry, Bob.” He actually appreciated that she wasn’t walking on eggshells. That she was upfront with him. Though it’d been over four years since their breakup, and Abby was now married with children, the two remained friends and often checked in with each other occasionally.

“It was bound to happen some time,” he replied before turning off his phone so he couldn’t receive any more messages.

The rest of the night he was pretty much a walking shell, then as the years went on Bob closed himself off. Hardly did he date, and when he did they only lasted a few months before the girls realized he was not ready for the commitment they were wanting. Some understood, others were more aggressive when spitting out their feelings. Never did he admit why he couldn’t love them the way they wanted. The only people who knew who his heart belonged to were Abby and his family.

2015 Bob was transferred to Lemoore when the news broke that Y/n and Enrique had divorced after nearly four years of marriage, however, they had been secretly separated for almost a year before it was finalized. Cursing mentally, Bob couldn’t help but feel a slight relief—which was completely fucked up knowing Y/n was going through a difficult time and here he was silently celebrating, as though he really had a chance now to make things right.

That should’ve been his sign to call her mother and ask for Y/n’s number, with the hope she’d give it to him. But then Bob felt it was too soon. Her divorce had just been finalized, he didn’t know the exact reason despite the former couple citing irreconcilable differences. Whatever it was, Bob wasn’t sure he wanted to know but at the same time couldn’t help but be curious.

He’d get his answer almost two years later in January of 2017 when he flew home to Montana to celebrate his birthday. It was his 32nd and his mother literally begged him to come home so they could all be together now that Bob’s sister had recently had twins and were there to visit. Wanting to meet his nieces, the WSO relented and booked a flight for the weekend after confirming his leave.

Suspicion filled him with the way his family was acting when he arrived. Almost like they were excited but nervous, which only confused the officer. He was in his service khakis, pulling his cap off when they got inside and removing his windbreaker before setting it on the coat rack.

That’s when he saw the black suitcase in the corner.

“Who’s is that?” He asked with a raised brow, noticing his mother slightly tense. It wasn’t a luggage he recognized as one of theirs, and it was as though it had just been placed there.

And his sister had already unpacked in her old room. So it wasn’t hers.

Blushing, his mother tried to find the right words, “Oh-um, It’s—.”

“It’s mine.”

32 years had gone by in Bob’s life and never did he think he’d experience anything close to cardiac arrest. But hearing Y/n’s voice, so close as though she was behind him, made him think he was about to die right then and there.

Then he turned around, slowly, heart beating so fast it was about to explode from his chest, and she was there. Standing at the end of the staircase in a beautiful black leather dress with matching knee high boots, her hair slicked back into a bun and minimal makeup showcasing her gorgeous face.

She was ethereal. Absolutely breathtaking.

The last time he saw her in person was when they were 22, before that was 16. Here she was a grown woman who’d been through a hell of a life. She looked beyond gorgeous, and Bob felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

Only her gaze was not as warm as the emotions Bob was feeling. Honestly he felt like he could be six feet in the ground with how she was looking at him. Betrayal, heartbreak, anger, but underneath it there was love and hope.

“Hello, Robert.”

He didn’t even know how to react. All he could do was stand there, speechless with his mouth slightly agape. Eventually he just breathed out, “Y/n.”

Stoic, Y/n glanced at his mother, “Mrs. Floyd, could you please give us a moment.”

“Of course,” the older woman nodded, bidding her son a glance, “We’ll all be out on the porch.”

Nodding in thanks, Y/n waited until she and everyone in the house had moved outside before facing Bob again. Chills ran up his arms when she let her eyes trail over his figure, remaining emotionless.

An awkward silence passed, neither really knowing what to say. Bob was hesitant to break it, hoping she would but Y/n just continued to stare at him. Both unable to form the words.

Finally he tried to say, “y-you uhh, wow.” He swore he heard her scoff under her breath.

“Yeah, wow,” her tone broke his heart, but then again Bob couldn’t blame her. After all, he’s the reason they drifted apart. When he didn’t reply, instead glancing to the ground, she scoffed louder, “That’s all you can really say? ‘Wow’? After thirteen years, Robert, all you have to fucking say to me is ‘wow’? No, ‘I’m sorry,’ no ‘I can explain everything.’”

Anxiety rising, Bob sighed which only made her angrier. “Y/n, I-I—.”

She couldn’t stop herself, “Why?” The question haunted her for over a decade. “Why did you just throw me away like trash—a-after everything we’d been through? You owe me the reason why you broke your word to me and made me feel like shit. I have waited and waited for years, Robert, hoping you would call or send a letter but now I’ve had enough so you can’t run away from me now. So start talking.”

“Y/n, I didn’t mean for y-you to feel like that,” he tried to explain, but the words were not the best, causing her to explode.

“How else was it supposed to make me feel!?” She threw her hands out. “That’s how it came off as to me! ‘All always be here for you,’ my ass, Robert. You remember telling me that? It was only two years—two years of us doing so well with the distance—I was even planning on surprising you for fucking Christmas and then it was just gone in the blink of an eye,” snapping her fingers, Y/n emphasized her point. “No explanation, no warning. Nothing to tell me you didn’t want to be friends anymore, having your mom give me excuse after excuse why you wouldn't come to the phone.” She pauses to calm herself, her tone kept rising with each word.

Bob takes the moment to speak, “It’s…Y/n, you have to understand it was never my intention to hurt you,” when she made a sound of, ‘yeah right,’ he rushed out, “Please! I fucked up, I know I did and I’ve regretted every second of it since then—and as much as I wanted to reach out and apologize, explain to why it happened…I just felt so ashamed and then I heard you on the radio,” a sad smile comes to his lips, seeing her stiffen at the mention of her debut. “And when I heard your voice, I just thought that was it. You didn’t need me anymore and believed you would forget about me eventually.”

“Forget about you?” Her tone went soft, eyes glistening. “You were my best friend—since we were fucking five, Robert!” He flinched, shame filling his veins. “We did everything together, I shared everything with you. My music—some of which were inspired by the fucking things we did,” the confession had his eyes widened a bit, “You think I would just forget all of that? Thirteen years worth of friendship down the drain? Sorry, but I’m not like you—I wouldn’t just ditch the only person I trusted most in this world because I was starting to become something. Did your mom tell you I called?” She suddenly asked, not letting him answer before she was ranting again, “It was almost a year after you threw me to the winds. The night I fucking met with Capitol Records and got offered the opportunity of a lifetime….I wanted to share that with you. Despite the fact we hadn’t talked for almost a goddamn year, I desperately wanted to hear your voice and tell you I did it,” her voice cracked at the end, causing tears to prick in Bob’s eyes at the sight she was fighting back her own.

“That I did it,” Y/n held back the sob threatening to escape. “You were the only one who believed in me, and I couldn’t even share that with you. Because you didn’t want me in your life anymore—and you know what that’s okay. Friendships come and go, but you couldn’t even give me the fucking respect to tell me. And then you come to my show!” Now she was shouting, “Yeah I know that was you, don’t even try to deny it. It may have been four years at that time but I know damn well that was you in New York. I cannot fucking believe you would come to my show and not even tell me! And then to not reach out after was a fucking slap to my face.” Her breathing was starting to get heavy, the woman pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t even recognize you honestly. The Robert I knew would’ve never hurt me like you did. He would’ve at least shown me some respect. He wouldn't leave me to wonder what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said sternly.

“Well it doesn’t feel that way now does it?” She said just as harsh, “Why?”

“Y/n, it’s complicated,” he put his hands to his neck, looking at the ceiling as he started to lose composure.

“Then tell me why!”

“Because I fucking love you that’s why!”

The words had left Bob’s mouth before he could stop himself. Silence ignited, the WSO covering his mouth with a hand as he went pale, staring at Y/n whose own mouth was parted. The confession had hit her full blast, causing her to stumble back as though she physically felt them possess her. A shaky hand came to her own mouth, looking away from the man when her eyes closed allowing the tears to spill on her cheeks.

“I love you,” Bob whispered, mirroring her expression. “I’ve loved you since we were fifteen, Y/n. I knew I felt something when we were twelve, but I just brushed it off thinking I was confused. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about you—and what we could have. But I didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same.” Opening his eyes, they locked on hers. God even when she cried she looked beautiful. “When you left…I thought it would be easier to move on. But then we talked every week and the feelings wouldn’t go away. No matter how much I tried. You took my heart with you to L.A. and you’ve had it ever since.”

He waited for her to respond, chest on fire with how bad his heart was racing. Fingertips were going numb as Bob stared at her with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back in time and change it as much as I wish I could. Please know, Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. I won’t blame you if you walk out that door and we never see each other again. But just when you do, know that I’m truly, deeply, sorry.”

Time seemed to slow now with the two adults staring at each other. Now that it was all out in the open, Y/n seemed to be processing the whole thing. Bob couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n’s brain was screaming, as was her heart. Lips quivering, the woman sniffed.

“You love me?”

“I do,” Bob signed after a moment. He no longer could keep it in, feeling the immense relief at being able to finally say it aloud.

“For years?”

“Almost seventeen.”

“Seventeen,” she repeated with an unreadable tone. “Y-you, I thought—your mom told me you were engaged.”

“That was in college,” he explained softly. “She was at the show with me that night. Saw how we reacted to each other and realized things I tried to hide. I ended things with her—I couldn’t trap her in a marriage that would make her unhappy—make me unhappy. She understood after a while and we stayed friends.” Bob rubbed his jaw, adding, “everyone else that came along was the same. I couldn’t love them the way they wanted me to. My heart wouldn’t allow it.”

Y/n leaned her head against the wall behind her, gazing at the ceiling, “A-and you were just going to go through life alone? Never planning to settle or be happy?”

“What good would it be hurting someone by committing to them when I couldn’t offer everything they would give me in return. They could love me, but I couldn’t love them, Y/n, and that’s unfair.” He wiped away a tear that slipped from his eye, no doubt his irises were red, “I’d rather be alone than do that to someone.”

She took a sharp inhale at that, more tears falling. “You should’ve told me,” her voice cracked, making him look away. Only to freeze when she said in almost a whisper, “Because we could’ve had all this time.”

“Wh-what?” Was his mind playing tricks on him? Or did she really just say what he thought she did?

Y/n chuckled, but it was more of laughing at how sad the situation was. Shaking her head, her eyes stayed on her boots as she said, “Did you ever wonder why I rejected Tyler Davies when he asked me to homecoming junior year, insisting I wanted to go with you instead?” Tyler was the quarterback of their high school football team. A senior, who asked Y/n to the dance and became the talk of the school when she said no. Many were jealous she even got his attention, riddled with shock she would reject the star player.

“Because you felt sorry for me I didn’t ask anyone?” He asked like it was obvious, causing her to huff.

“Because I wanted you to ask me,” his heart skipped again, “And whenever Melinda Perry would flirt with you in government I would literally send her daggers because of how jealous I was. Why do you think I warned you not to go out with her when you asked for my advice? Yeah I knew she was a snake to most of her boyfriends, but I was also selfish because I didn’t want you dating someone else. God, Robby, you were so blind. Even with your glasses you still couldn’t see that I loved you.” It was though he was on cloud 9, disbelief at what he was hearing.

Y/n loved him. At least she did when they were teenagers.

The next question couldn’t even form in his mind before she was lifting her head back up, shrugging when allowing the confession to fall from her lips. “And as much as I want to hate you right, I can’t bring myself to. Because I’m still hopelessly in love with you, Robby.”

Now he was the one stumbling back. “Y-you do?”

“I do. I’ve loved you since I was sixteen.”

He didn’t recall much that happened after that. Just that his feet were carrying him over to her, cupping her face in his hands and moving their faces close together. Lips just barely brushing over, he waited for her to make the next move. Y/n wasted no time, pressing her mouth to his and the two felt the eruption of warmth and love consume their bodies. Her arms around his neck, her fingers ran through his blonde hair causing Bob to groan. The sound made her gasp, allowing Bob to slip his tongue past her lips and heat up the kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, bringing them back together.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His arms went to cradle her, pressing her against the wall. She simply nodded before kissing him back, “I forgive you, Robby.” God he missed that name. Only she could make him feel some type of way when she said it. He chuckled when she added, “Even though I should slap the fuck out of you.”

It was a miracle they made it up the stairs and into his childhood bedroom which was now a guest room. He had to remember to lock the door after setting her on the bed, praying to God his family would stay outside. There was music playing from what he could hear through the window so it made things easier when the two got lost in each other.

Clothes scattered the floor, kisses and hushed whispers shared between the two. Bob worshiped Y/n, letting his mouth kiss along every inch of her, trailing down any tattoos that coated her skin and paying extra attention in the places that brought her the most pleasure.

When he entered her they both sighed in bliss, moving as one until they reached a climax that brought them both to tears. All the time Bob whispered how much he loved her, Y/n repeating it each time. She moaned with each thrust and whenever she pleaded with him to do something Bob delivered it without hesitation. With her leg over his shoulder, chests pressed and mouths attached together the officer believed if he died right there it would be with a smile on his face. They came together, Y/n gasping his name as he eased them through their climax. When it was over Bob leaned down to capture her lips, wiping away her tears before removing himself to clean her. They basked in the afterglow, Y/n laying her head on his chest while he lightly traced the tattoos on her arm with his finger.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked, making her humm in response. “Enrique…”

The woman made a sound, lifting her head to gaze at him. “Enrique and I had been friends for some time—and we did drunkenly hook up once to get the sexual tension out of the way but that was it,” Bob controlled his reaction, though he couldn't say anything for he too had his fair share of one night stands. “The band’s contract was renewed and The Walking Dead was just starting out. The label and his producers thought it was a good idea for us to be seen together. Just to bring in some press for our upcoming album and the show. But we never felt anything more than friends for each other.”

Bob sat up a bit, causing her to lean on her elbows as she rested on her stomach. His expression was unreadable, “but you two were married.” Again Y/n let out a sigh.

“Enrique and I were friends so we shared things. He confided in me, I confided in him—Enrique was in love with someone who he couldn’t have. Ring a bell?” She raised a brow at him. “I was in the same boat. Just like how you said you couldn’t bring yourself to love anyone else, I couldn’t either. But at the time I thought you were married, Robby.” That had his eyes widened. “I called your mom after the concert that night, hoping to get to you and she told me you were engaged. So when I met Enrique and we both were going through the same thing, we thought ‘instead of being miserable alone, let’s be miserable together.’ Our publicists hated the idea, but we both believed we wouldn’t get our fairytale ending.”

Something in the way she said that last sentence had Bob think about Enrique Lorenzo. Most recently it was revealed he was in a relationship with fellow costar Simon Zahir, coming out as bisexual to the world with an instagram post of the two sharing a kiss.

“So you married him even though you didn’t love him?” Kinda like how he almost did with Abby. It made Bob frown thinking about it.

“I did love him, just not the way a wife should love their husband. And he understood because he couldn’t love me the way a husband would their wife,” she sadly smiled, “It was a mutual understanding where we would go and support each other at premiers and award shows, kiss for the cameras, all that was needed to show the media we were a happy couple. But behind closed doors we actually lived separately.”

Hesitant to ask, Bob waited a moment before saying what was on his mind the last couple years. “What made you two divorce?” The question made her give a small smile.

“Simon confessed to Enrique he loved him after they finished filming season four, and that he and his wife were divorcing. When Enrique told me… I could just see the hope in his eyes, and who was I to deny him his chance at happiness just because I didn’t want to be alone. It would have been selfish of me to. No, I told him the first thing the next morning we’d file but our publicists called and asked to wait until Simon was divorced before we went through with ours. That’s why we were ‘separated’ for a year,” she put quotes around ‘separated’. “We didn’t want to cite irreconcilable differences since it was a mutual decision, but the lawyers thought that was the best route to go.”

Bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, Bob asked the second question he wanted to know, “What made you come here?” She leaned into his touch, “you said you thought I was married. How did you even get here?” The last question was more due to the fact The 1985’s were currently on tour. It was another reason why he was so shocked to see her there when he arrived.

“We played in Helena last night. After the show I had this feeling I needed to come here, so I called my mom to get your mom’s number. That’s when she told me you were flying in today.” Her face turned to one of guilt, “I sorta feel like a bitch because tomorrow is your birthday and I came here knowing there would likely be an argument. Even though I thought you were married, I just really wanted to know the truth. It was eating me up. And with that feeling I needed to come here again after so many years, it sorta felt like a sign—if you can call it that.”

Leaning more into his hand, Y/n added, “I didn’t come with the intentions of winning you over or anything—especially under the impression you were married. I wanted answers, that was all. Although,” she kisses his wrist, “I’m not complaining with how things turned out.”

“Me either,” he agreed with a laugh. As he moved in to kiss her, a knock on the door interrupted causing the two to look like deer in headlights.

“If you two are presentable,” it was his sister, “then we’d be happy if y’all joined us for dinner sometime soon. But by all means, take your time.” She ended with a cheeky laugh before footsteps indicated she had walked away.

Bob let his head fall back into the pillow with a groan while Y/n giggled. She went to get up, but the man wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled into her neck. “I’ve waited too long for this.” Humming, he felt her hands go to his air, maneuvering them so he was on top of her.

Y/n gasped at the feeling of him becoming hard again, causing Bob to smirk as she wrapped her legs around him to offer assistance. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

In the haze of it all and as the weeks passed, the two began to live the life they dreamed of with each other. Neither realized they had forgotten protection that night….until Y/n was puking on the tour bus and counted the days since her last period.

“Look at me,” Bob held her hands. They sat in her hotel room in Sacramento, the band finishing out their tour in California before setting to work on their next album. When she called him that morning about her possibly being pregnant Bob got in his car and drove straight there. Thankfully it was a Saturday so he was off and had great timing. Pepper was kind enough to give her a spare pregnancy test she had on her, so Y/n waited until Bob arrived to take it.

Relieving herself on the stick, she kept it in the bathroom to wait for the results while she sat with him on the bed. She was crying, unsure how to feel. Part of her was excited at the idea of being pregnant and having a baby with Bob, but also feared it was too soon. They had just started dating, she was on tour until the end of the month, and they had been keeping their relationship quiet from the public so she was scared of what could happen.

For the WSO, he was going to be happy regardless of the outcome. “Look at me, Y/n. Everything is going to be okay. I am not leaving you—I swear to you, baby. If that says positive, then believe me when I say I will be the happiest man alive,” she whimpered, making him press kisses her cheek lovingly, “We’ll get through it together. You’re gonna be done with the tour in a few weeks and then we can take it from there. And if it’s negative then that’s completely okay too.”

When the results did come, the stick reading in small letters pregnant, the couple cried together with Bob pulling Y/n into his lap. “I love you—I love you,” he kissed all over her face, her cries turning into giggles. “It’s going to be okay, Y/n. I’m so happy, darlin’. So so happy. I want nothing more in this world than to have a baby with you. You’re going to be the best momma ever. I know it.”

October of 2017 brought Marcel Brandon Floyd into the world. Keeping her pregnancy a secret, no one besides the band and their families had knowledge of the birth of their son. Thankfully Bob’s identity was still hidden, both very careful to not let paparazzi catch them together. Especially with Y/n being pregnant they didn’t want to add on the stress of the media discovering their relationship. They planned to announce it on their own at some point once the baby had arrived.

It wasn’t until Marcel was roughly a month old that Y/n posted an Instagram picture with his tiny hand wrapped around her finger, ‘my world has arrived 🤍 10.20.17.’ The announcement had Y/n trending #1 on Twitter and talk show hosts calling to have her on the show. Y/n declined, she only really made television appearances with the band if they were performing, but that was only when they released new music.

Around the holidays was when Bob proposed. They were sitting by the fire, Y/n in his lap with Marcel in her arms when Bob simply said, “Marry me.”

At first she thought he was joking, but then he removed a velvet box from his pocket. Her eyes watered, “Are you serious?”

“More than I’ve ever been. You’re my person, baby. I’ve waited for this moment my whole life—and I won’t waste another second. Marry me, Y/n. Be my wife and I promise to love you even after death.”

He truly meant it when he said he didn’t want to waste another second. After she said yes, they put Marcel to bed and Bob made an appointment at the courthouse, both agreeing to get legally married and wait for a big ceremony some other time. They made love all through the night until the sun rose. In the morning the little family and the band gathered in the courthouse and tied the knot.

Y/n already knew the media was going to have stuff to say about her when the news broke. This was her second marriage, also happening in the spur of the moment like her first one. Only this time around it was with her soulmate so the rockstar couldn’t give a fuck what they had to say. She and Bob were coming up on a year, had a child, and planned to spend every second of their lives together. She loved him with every ounce of her being.

On instagram the picture posted was of their rings followed by one of them kissing where his face was hidden. “I’ve been keeping a secret from all of you. In January I reunited with my childhood best friend, who I was in love with way before The 1985’s were even thought of. Things happened in life causing us to drift apart, but we recently found our way back to each other and I plan to never let him go. He is my second half. The person I was meant to grow old with. I can’t put into words how happy I am and with the birth of our son, our little fairytale seems to be working out. Some of you may think this is all too fast but let me tell you this, we’ve waited a long time for this moment. I ask that you please respect our privacy and thank you to all who have supported me over the years. Much love, Y/n ♥️”

For almost two years the two kept their relationship under wraps from the media. Then in October of 2019, just before Marcel’s birthday Bob was called back to Top Gun. It’d been several years since he graduated from the program, surprised they even wanted him for the mission. With how timing was the WSO would have to report to Fightertown a couple days after his son turned two. Y/n had a beach house in San Diego, deciding her and Marcel would stay there while Bob was in his detachment and what made it better was Xavier and Farrah—who fell in love over the course of their years as a band— were both from San Diego, both currently there while the band took a small break. Bob would have to stay on base with candidates, but after training ended he’d come to the house to be with them.

Pepper and Thomas were back in L.A, but we’re working on beats for their upcoming album and sending the three what they had for them to add on or scrap if they felt it didn’t fit. They had a meeting with the two Zoom with Xavier and Farrah and their two young kids at Y/n’s place the day she got the call Bob was in an accident.

“Hello?” She answered the phone, moving to the side away from where Xavier was drumming. Marcel was in his little playpen, a pair of baby earmuffs over his ears to protect them from the loud noise.

“Hi….” The guy on the opposite end let out a soft chuckle. “I’m looking for uh, Y/n L/n?” His tone was that of someone who found it funny he was asking for someone he definitely thought wouldn’t be on the other end of the phone. Like he saw the name on the card and said, “there’s no fucking way this is the guy married to Y/n L/n,” but because of his job he had to call the number anyway.

“This is her. Who am I speaking to?”

The man went silent for a moment, before clearing his throat. “This is Lieutenant Royce from NAS Miramar medical group,” Y/n’s heart picked up as dread filled her, “Can you confirm you are the spouse of Lieutenant Robert Floyd.”

“Yes,” she rushed out. “I am. Is he okay? Did something happen?” Closing her eyes, she prayed she wasn’t about to receive the worst news imaginable. No, Bob had to be okay.

“There was an accident with his F-18 this afternoon, he had to eject—.”

“Excuse me one second,” she apologized before bringing the phone back slightly to yell at the drummer, “Xavier! Stop drumming for five seconds—I need to fucking hear right now!” The man winced as he mouthed, ‘sorry’ catching the ashen look on her face. Both he and Farrah set aside their instruments, watching Y/n turn away to speak again, this time more calmly. “Please repeat that for me, Lieutenant.”

When Royce heard the name of The 1985’s drummer being shouted at, the Lieutenant nearly forgot what he was calling for, “U-uh, yes. There was an emergency ejection in your husband’s F-18 this afternoon during training. He is okay minus a few bruises, but he will be staying overnight in our facility for observation.”

“Oh my gosh, okay,” she breathed in relief, bringing a hand to her mouth to calm herself. “Is there any way I can see him?”

“Do you have a dependent ID card?” She tells him yes and he says with a light cough, “Then yes you can come onto base and see him.” Royce gave the address, still finding it hard to believe he may have been talking with the frontwoman of the most popular rock band in the last 15 years. He really thought it was just someone who shared a name with her. But then again, they sounded very alike.

Thanking the officer, Y/n wrote down the address and rushed to grab her purse. “I have to go to base—something happened with Bob. Can you guys watch Marcel until I get back?”

“Of course,” Farrah told her, “go go, we’ll stay here and clean everything up.”

Practically speeding onto base, it was the first time she ever had to use her military ID, which had the guard at the front gate jaw drop. He maintained professionalism, scanning her card and nodding to the rockstar. As much as he wanted to ask for a photo the guy could tell she was in distress and it wasn’t a good idea. “Have a good day, Ms. L/n.”

“Thank you, sir. You too.” She waved apologetically, recognizing the look she often got from fans. Had the situation been different she would’ve happily chatted a little longer.

It was the same when she got to the infirmary. The receptionist, who looked to be in her mid twenties, dropped the apple in her hand while other young servicemen were doing double takes and whispering. “That’s fucking Y/n L/n.” “Are you sure?” “I’m serious! I had a huge crush on her in college. I’d recognize her anywhere.”

“Hi,” she offered a small smile, aware the guy to her left had his phone out trying to sneak a picture, likely tweeting the fact she was in a Navy hospital. “I’m looking for my husband, Lieutenant Robert Floyd. I received a call from a Lieutenant Royce saying he was here.”

Upon hearing his name, the gentlemen seated behind the girl with his back to her spun around, eyes bulging when they landed on Y/n. The chair almost fell when he stood abruptly. “T-that’s me. Yes I’m the one who called you, Ms. L/n. If you would follow me I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” she walked behind him, ignoring the whispers and comments made by those around. By now TMZ probably got tipped off, she could already feel her phone buzzing—no doubt from her publicist wondering what the hell was going on. She made a mental note to call her back later to explain.

Royce knocked gently on the door before opening it, “Lieutenant—oh you have visitors I apologize,” he glanced over his shoulder to Y/n, still in disbelief on what he was about to say. Turning back to Bob, Royce gives a nod, “your wife is here.”

“She is?” Y/n heard Bob, and some murmurs of voices going, “Wife?” “When the hell did he get married?”

Pushing past Royce, thanking him briefly, Y/n entered the room only to stop short at the several pairs of eyes landing on her. Off to the side she saw a man with a buzz cut drop his bag of chips, choking on the one in his mouth, “What. the. fuck.”

The two standing in front of the bed—mouths agape—parted away allowing Y/n to see Bob sitting with his flight suit unzipped and tied around his waist. Exhaling in utter relief the woman rushes to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh, Robby.” She felt his arms go to her waist, pulling her closer as she hid her face in his neck. Y/n could literally cry with how happy she was to see him in one piece.

“I’m okay, darlin’.” He rubbed her back, aware his fellow aviators were staring at them with mixed expressions. They looked confused, disbelieved, shocked, and in awe.

The quiet, reserved, yet sometimes sassy WSO is married to the woman who's been ruling the radio over the last decade.

Who had seven fucking Grammy’s under her band’s name.

Pulling away, Y/n ran her hands along his shoulders, checking for any visible wounds. “What happened? Lieutenant Royce told me you had to eject?”

“There was a bird strike,” he explained, taking her hands and soothing them with his thumbs. “We lost both engines—Phoenix tried to get back control but we were going too fast and couldn’t save the jet. Had to eject at the last second—we’re okay though, I promise. Just a little shaken.”

“Thank God you’re alright,” she sniffed, hugging him again while kissing his cheek. “Leave it to you getting in an accident that makes me use my ID for the first time.”

“How was that?”

“Interesting. I was tempted to run the gate because I had no patience, but controlled myself. Getting arrested would not have been good.”

“No it wouldn’t,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

The clearing of someone’s throat ended the moment, Y/n removing herself from Bob to face the group of aviators who were still speechless by the scene. Smiling shyly, Y/n took in each of them. “Hello, I’m Y/n.”

“Oh we know who you are,” Fanboy said with awe, groaning when Payback smacked his shoulder with a disapproving look. “Sorry that was not the best thing to say. What I-I meant was we’re all fans of your work.”

“And by that he means we were all jamming to your music on the tarmac just yesterday, not understanding why Bobby here looked so smug when Seresin said he could totally get a shot with you if he ever got the chance,” Rooster added on, resulting in the blonde pilot to glare at him before blushing when the others started to laugh.

“Well now I sure as hell won’t try—I’m not that shallow to hit on a married woman, Bradshaw. Made that mistake ages ago and it was not pretty. Anyways, sorry Bob for what I said,” he held a hand up, “but let me be the first to say what a fucking G you are. And Y/n, it’s an honor to be in your presence. Big fan.”

Y/n raised a brow, smirking to her husband to see his reaction. He sure did look smug, keeping his arm around her waist. “A fucking G, huh?”

“He’s the one who said it,” he smiles before noticing she was alone when she arrived, “Where’s Marcel?”

“With Xav and Farrah. They were at the house when I got the call—we were working on some songs.” In the corner of her eye she saw Coyote and Fanboy visibly react to the mention of her bandmates.

“Forgive me for asking,” Phoenix finally spoke from her bed that was seated right next to Bob’s. “But weren’t you two childhood best friends if I’m not mistaken? Sorry if it’s too personal, but I remember seeing your post on instagram two years ago and I thought it said something like that.”

The couple smiled, confirming her wonders. “Yeah,” Bob looked at Y/n with love in his eyes. “We grew up together. Took a hell of a long time before we could get our chance at love, but it was worth the wait.”

For almost an hour the aviators learned more about Y/n and Bob’s relationship, literally saying it should be a romance novel with what life threw at them. The hopeless romantic in Phoenix couldn’t help but awe, feeling so much happiness for her backseater and the rockstar she’d been listening to since sixteen. They truly were the ultimate love story.

When it came time for the mission with Bob and Phoenix selected as one of two foxtrot teams, Y/n held onto him the entire night prior to him shipping out. He made love to her for hours, very slow and sensual ensuring she felt every inch of him. And when they climaxed a tear spilled from her eyes, “You better come home to me.”

He kept a picture of her and Marcel in his pocket the entire time. Before the jet took off of the carrier Bob gave it a small kiss before keeping it safe in his flight suit. The second they got back after successfully completing the mission he called his wife to tell her he was coming home. She practically catapulted into his arms when she picked him up from the docks, not giving a shit that the paparazzi had followed her there. By now the whole world knew who Bob was to her.

The rest of 2019 seemed to go by in a blur. They first thought 2020 would be the best year of their lives when it was discovered Y/n was pregnant again, having conceived the night Bob had left for his mission. She was just at the end of her first trimester when the entire globe shut down. When the rumors spread of a possible pandemic with the outbreak happening across the ocean, the 1985’s all took up camp in San Diego now that Bob had become an instructor with Phoenix at Top Gun. Thomas and his fiancé, who was an actress, didn’t mind moving, neither did Pepper and her girlfriend. The group were working on their sixth studio album and had celebrated 15 years as a group.

But they were starting to get burnt out, thinking it was time to go on hiatus.

Concerned with the virus and what it could have on her pregnancy, the two were very strict on keeping up with covid restriction. For at least three months Bob was working from home, the base shutting down with only certain personnel allowed on. Marcel was still too young to be in pre-school and daycare wasn’t needed since Y/n was home most days. And when she did have business meetings to attend or studio sessions he often traveled with her. Zoom became their best friend during the lockdown, with meetings happening frequently at the beginning to figure out what they were going to do going forward.

Y/n spent weeks going through what were the best records to put on the album. If this was going to be their last for a while then she wanted it to be their best. Two songs she knew she wanted were ‘Pompeii’ and ‘Little Black Dress’, while the other 13 were going to take time to decide. ‘Pompeii’ could definitely have people relate with how this lockdown was making them feel. On the other hand, ‘Little Black Dress’ was mostly for her, inspired by the time Bob went absolutely feral when she walked into the room wearing a little black dress.

It was one of her favorite memories.

And so the months went on and before they knew it they were welcoming a baby girl in July—right smack in the middle of a pandemic. The whole ordeal was unlike anything they ever imagined. Only Bob was allowed in the room, not even their son could come visit so little Marcel didn’t even get to meet his sister until days later. He was with Y/n’s mother who traveled down from L.A and quarantined in the weeks leading to her due date. Y/n hated hospitals, looking forward to bringing their daughter Brenda Rose home. Unfortunately no one else in their family or friends could meet the baby girl until spring of 2021 when things were starting to settle out.

That was also when The 1985s made the decision to go on hiatus, planning to release their album that summer before going on a final tour in 2022.

“This just in, pop rock group ,The 1985s, have announced a hiatus following the release of their upcoming album End of An Era set to drop at the end July. Frontwoman, Y/n L/n, posted on her Twitter a photo of the group in a sweet embrace with the caption, ‘when one chapter ends, another begins. Join us in 2022 as we say goodbye to the stage—thank you to everyone who has supported us since we were kids on MySpace. We hope to see you as we close this chapter in our lives, but don’t worry, the future can always surprise you. In the meantime, as Elvis would say, ‘The 1985s have left the building.’”

“It’s a sad day for fans of Grammy award winning rock band The 1985s. Earlier it was announced they are going on an indefinite hiatus once completing their impending world tour for their sixth studio album. Formed in 2003, the 1985s skyrocketed to the Billboard charts after debuting with their single ‘1985’ in 2005, going on to dominate the late 2000s and early 2010s with features on The Twilight Saga: Eclipse soundtrack, the 25th anniversary of We Are The World to raise charity for the Haiti earthquake, and accumulating a total of seven Grammys including taking home the big three: ‘Record of The Year,’ ‘Song of The Year,’ and ‘Album of The Year’ in 2008 for their second studio album Sugar, Spice, and A Little Bit of Rock ‘N’ Roll. The announcement of the hiatus has succeeded the news of bassist Thomas Quinn tying the knot with longtime girlfriend, Oscar Winner Amelia Bandera, who recently revealed she was pregnant with the couple’s first child. Last year frontwoman Y/n L/n welcomed a daughter with her husband—the couple’s second child since they wed in a private ceremony in 2017. And word on the street is keyboardist Pepper Renolyds is looking to adopt with partner Jenna Langdon. The married pair of the band, Xavier and Farrah Hernandez have had two children following their wedding in 2010 and have hinted at possibly wanting to have a third. It is unsure when the group is likely to regroup after 2022 comes to an end, but one thing is for sure: The 1985s have embedded their name as one of the bestselling groups of the 21st century. I’d say we could be looking at a possible induction to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame in the future, and a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.”

Now here they were, November of 2022 at Madison Square Garden to take the stage one last time. Would they ever come back? Probably, but it would be some time before they did.

So they were gonna go out with a bang.

“I have twenty minutes until my ass needs to be on stage, Robby,” Y/n mumbled between kisses, back pressed against the door of her dressing room. His mouth went to her neck, roaming his hands all over her body that was covered in her usual leather, “That’s plenty of time.” The response had her giggle, moaning when he attacked her sweet spot making him smirk.

“Then you better do double time…we’re on the clock.”

Her glam team was going to be pissed when she came out with messy hair, glistening of sweat, and slightly smudged makeup, but she didn’t care. Not when her husband was rocking her world as he had her bent over the couch. His chest pressed to her back and hair in his fist, whispering absolute filth into her ear—saying he was going to have her on stage full of him and only he would know. But Bob also gave words of praise and love.

It wasn’t the first time he snuck backstage to rile her up before a concert. When they started the American leg of the tour in California he was at almost every show and would bring her flowers. Sometimes the kids came along, other times they stayed with Phoenix, but each time Bob would either get her pent up by teasing her as the minutes counted down…or would full on rail her. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t get off on the thrill of almost getting caught….or the fact anyone passing the dressing room could figure out what they were making their own music.

This time around in The Garden their kids were with Phoenix and Rooster, who were all waiting to get to their spots on the floor after wishing her and the band good luck. The others were already there, ready to have the time of their lives with the sold out arena. Bob needed to hurry because the stage manager was going to be knocking on her door any second.

They finished with minutes to spare, out of breath and panting with a light layer of sweat coating Y/n. Fuck she looked sexy in her leather and messed up hair, glistening as the light hit her. A smug look took over Bob, winking at his wife who just shook her head with a smile, “I’m gonna miss that now that the tour is over.”

“Don’t worry, baby. We still got after party.”

The rockstar ushered him out when the stage manager appeared, the aviator delivering a smack to her ass as he told her good luck. She smacked his in return causing him to yelp, “Naughty boy.”

Yeah he got some looks from his fellow officers when they got to the floor, Jake whistling under his breath as he went to check his watch. “Jesus Bob, you two were at it for a while. Were you trying to go for baby number three? I hope she’s able to walk on stage.” The comment had Phoenix slap his shoulder, “Can you not? We have kids with us,” she gestured to not only Bob’s children but also Payback's ten year old son and Hondo’s seven year old daughter. Then there was Mickey’s girlfriend carrying their toddler with baby earmuffs, the same Brenda and Marcel were wearing. “My bad,” Jake said, though the smirk remained on his face when Bob sent him a wink.

When the show started it was the most amazing thing any of the squad had witnessed. Some of them had seen the band in their college days, but it was obvious they were gonna top what they did ten years ago. There was a light rumble to Madison Square Garden with how loud it was. Flashing lights and smoke covered the stage, the countdown with a video montage hitting zero before The 1985’s opened with ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go,’ sending everyone who was still sitting on their feet. Bob put Brenda on his shoulders, Rooster doing the same with Marcel who were clapping and pointing to their mother, “Mommy!”

“Now, I’m searching every lonely place,” Y/n belted out the first line of the chorus, moving down the stage’s elongated platform that split the floor. “Every corner calling out your name. Tryna find you, but I just don’t know.” Xavier hit the drums with Farrah’s riff, Y/n holding a hand to chest, “Where do broken hearts go?”

“Are you sleeping, baby, by yourself? Or are you giving it to someone else? Tryna find you, but I just don’t know,” Pepper and Thomas joined the vocals, “Where do broken hearts go? Where do broken hearts go?”

When the song came to an end, Y/n let the audience scream for a moment before introducing the band. “Madison Square Garden!! New York City!!” The crowd screamed again, smiles on every member. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, theys and thems and anyone in between…. welcome to the ‘End of An Era’ world tour—our final show as we close out an actual end of an era,” Y/n moves closer to her friends with a sad laugh, hearing the sounds of protest from some fans.

“Let’s start off by introducing ourselves…..Mr. Thomas Quinn on the bass!” Tom hits some chords against the audience’s cheers, Y/n doing a little dance off to the side. “Miss. Pepper Reynolds on keys everyone!” The former pianist lets her fingers move along the keys, grinning wide and waving when she finishes. “Show me what you can do, Ms. Farrah Cortez,” the guitar solo sends the crowd into a frenzy, which only increases when Y/n introduces Xavier. “And last but not least, Mr. Farrah Cortez,” laughter rings out before she corrects herself, “I meant Mr. Xavier Hernandez,” the drums go crazy when his last name leaves her lips. She waits till he’s finished to do a bow.

“And I’m Y/n L/n,” she has to pull her mic away to hide her laugh, cheers ringing from every corner in the sold out stadium. “And we’re The 1985s.”

The energy throughout the concert was insane. Even during intermission and 5-minute breaks the audience was having a blast. The dagger squad, plus Hondo and even Maverick were dancing and singing along—the older man getting a literal PowerPoint lesson from his former students on everything there was to know about the group.

Y/n was very entertained when Bob told her that night, saying Maverick aced his test they’d given him. “You gave your old instructor, the famous Captain Mitchell….a test on our band and music? And he got a 100%?” His little nod and smile had Y/n jump in his arms, kissing all over his face, “You’re so fucking adorable, Robby. I love you so much.”

The first part of the show was mostly dedicated to songs on their most recent album, including ‘Pompeii’ and ‘Little Black Dress’. The latter had Bob blushing mad during the set, especially when Y/n came over to where they were at, eyes on him and curing a finger to get him to come to the edge of the floor. There the stadium exploded when she practically laid on the platform to lean over and kiss him, the cameras catching the scene to display on the giant screens.

Blowing kisses to her kids, she got back up and finished the song, smirking at how the dagger squad were whistling and howling in cheers. “Sorry I couldn’t help myself,” she giggled, moving back to her bandmates to prepare for the next set.

Though the tour mainly focused on their songs from their latest work, they called back to some old hits, including ‘Let’s Get Lost,’ which was written for the third Twilight movie soundtrack. “We got any Twilight fans here tonight?” Y/n chuckled at the screams, “I got one thing to ask then….Team Edward or Jacob?”

‘Some Nights’ was one of her favorites to perform, feeling a wave of nostalgia each time she did. It was a fan favorite as it was their second single ever released. The band harmonized on the track, all of them showing off their vocals with the ‘Oh come on,’ part of the song.

Y/n was hesitant to sing ‘Iris’ and ‘Payphone,’ considering they were about her husband, but he assured her when they were planning the tour set list that he wouldn’t be offended. They were some of her greatest works, the audience should hear them.

They even covered the iconic, ‘Don’t You Forget About Me,’ from the Simple Minds—most notably from the movie The Breakfast Club. “I hope you never forget about us, New York,” Y/n said when they finished, “Cause we’ll never forget you.”

Finally they were coming down to the final ten minutes and they had yet to play the song that started it all. “As we come to the end of tonight’s show, we just wanna thank each and every one of you for the support and love you have shown us tonight and through the years. None of this would’ve happened without you all—and we cannot thank you enough for sticking by us, you all play a giant role in what we do. And we’re going to miss you the most as we close this chapter in our lives,” Y/n pauses, feeling the tears prick her eyes. Glancing at her friends, she could see they were fighting back their own. They knew it would be an emotional night, and now they were minutes away from stepping off the stage for the final time.

“We started this journey when we were only seventeen and eighteen—and it’s been a hell of a ride since. Next year marks twenty years since we became The 1985s, seventeen since we made our radio debut, back when MySpace was still a thing,” she has to laugh at that, “What better way to end this tour—end this chapter, than by traveling back in time to the year that started it all.”

The reaction in the dome had little Brenda have to cover her hands over her muffs because it was so loud, Bob holding her on his hip and asking if she was alright. “Loud,” she said in her small voice, causing him to mentally awe.

“I know, baby, it’s loud. But the show is almost over and then mommy will be done, then we go home. Can you hold on for one more song? It’s your favorite one,” Brenda’s eyes brightened at the mention of her favorite song, nodding frantically making him laugh. “Okay munchkin, I expect to hear you sing along—except don’t say the bad word in it, understood?”

“Yes, dada.”

Phoenix was jumping up and down with Marcel in her arms, head banging with the little boy along with Rooster and Javy. Everyone was in delight, rockin out to the final number. Brenda sang along with Bob, the crowd harmonizing with them.

“She’s seen all the classics,” Y/n belted the second verse, hands moving on her guitar, “She knows every line. Breakfast Club, Pretty In Pink, even St. Elmo’s Fire.”

“She rocked out to Wham, not a big Limp Bizkit fan. Thought she’d get a hand on a member of Duran Duran.”

Her and Farrah were leaning their backs against one another, “Where’s the mini-skirt made of snakeskin? And who’s the other guy that’s singin’ in Van Halen? When did reality become TV? Whatever happened to,” she hit a riff, “sitcoms,” she hit another, “game shows? Sing it!”

The entire squad, the kids, and Madison Square Garden echoed, “ON THE RADIO!”

“Was Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana there was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. ‘Cause she’s still preoccupied with 19…19…1985!”

Her mini solo before the bridge had the crowd wild. Smiling the entire time, Y/n even went to the side where her friends and family were, making them all go crazy. “She hates time, make it stop. When did Motley Crue become classic rock?”

“Classic rock,” the band repeated.

“And when did Ozzy become an actor? Please make this stop,” Y/n hit a riff, “stop,” another, “stop!” Only the cheers could be heard during the slight pause before Y/n brought her hand back on the chords.

“And bring back Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana. There was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. ‘Cause she’s still preoccupied—sing it!”

“1985!!!”

“One last time Madison Square Garden!!” Not a single person in them dome didn’t sing along, everyone shouting the final chorus at the top of their lungs.

“Since Bruce Springsteen, Madonna. Way before Nirvana. There was U2 and Blondie, and music still on MTV. Her two kids in high school, they tell her that she’s uncool. But she’s still preoccupied, with 19….19….1985!!!”

All the band members continued playing an extended outro, lights flashing all around as the crowd whistled and screamed. Y/n ran over to each side of the stage before coming to the middle, waving a hand to her band who were still going hard on the instruments before raising it and finally bowing.

On the floor, Brenda still in his arms, Bob wiped away the tears falling from his cheeks with his free hand. His friends were cheering, the entire scene overwhelming for the WSO as he stared at his true love as she took her final bow. Y/n was also crying, as were her friends when they finally closed the show shouting, “Madison Square Garden—New York City we love you! Thank you so much for being here with us and being the best crowd ever. Safe travels wherever you’re going and we hope all your dreams come true. Until we meet again….as Elvis would say, The 1985s have left the building!”

The crowd was still screaming, the five adults coming to the middle of the stage holding hands in the air before bowing. Then they all met in a tearful embrace, Y/n full on sobbing with Farrah and Pepper, overcome with emotion that it was all over. Waving to the crowd, they spotted dozens of fans in their line of vision crying, some even throwing flowers onto the stage. They all went to each side of the platform to blow kisses and wave, until finally walking off into the arms of their crew who’d been with them since 2005–where another heartfelt moment took place.

As soon as their families made it backstage, Y/n was dropping to her knees to allow Brenda and Marcel to run into her open arms. “My babies!!” Peppering kisses against their cheeks, Y/n held them tight as they said words of praise. “You were amazing, mommy!” “That was so fun!”

“Thank you, baby,” she kissed Marcel’s head, looking up to see Bob staring at her with absolute love and admiration. Gently moving him and Brenda to the side, Y/n stood up, only to squeal when Bob’s hands went to her thighs to lift her up, spinning them around.

“You were incredible!” He exclaims, stopping still but still holding her up. Their lips met in a searing kiss, “absolutely spectacular.” Her hands came up to cup his face, deepening the kiss as their children wrapped their arms around Bob’s legs. It was like they were in their own little world, oblivious to everyone celebrating around them. The band were with their kids and partners, the crew were popping off champagne.

“I love you so much, Robby,” she said against his lips, kissing him again when he said, “I love you too, baby. More than anything in this world. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

When they pulled away, Y/n was a flustered mess, mirroring that of Bob who was looking at her like she was a goddess. “Don’t give me that look, Floyd. Not until we get to the hotel.”

“Can’t help myself, darlin’,” he chuckled, adjusting her in his arms before giving her another kiss.

“Eww,” Marcel groaned, making the couple laugh into the kiss. Bob set Y/n down, but pulled her close as Brenda and Marcel squeezed in between them.

“So what’s next then?” Bob whispered in her ear. “I know you can take the girl out of rock n roll…but she’ll always be a rockstar.” Y/n laughed, pulling away to gaze deeply in his beautiful blue eyes that she fell in love with as a teenager.

“Now, we live our lives. One day at a time. Together.”

Y/n really needed to thank her mom one day. It was because of her that the woman got to live her dream. After all, she was the one still preoccupied with 1985.

……….

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Full of Surprises - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by @galaxy-of-stories's post

pairing: Lt. Robert Floyd x reader

warnings/content: virgin!bob x fem reader, oral (f receiving), p in v, swearing, hangman actually being a decent friend towards bob.

word count: 3k

minors dni below the cut

Bob chewed on his bottom lip nervously as he watched you from across the beach, his dark blue eyes watching you intensely from behind his wire framed glasses. He rarely took part in off-base activities with the rest of the Dagger squad, but today, he’d been coaxed out by Rooster and Phoenix to join the team for a relaxing beach day. What he didn’t know though, was that you would be there. You were Maverick’s niece, and Bob had pretty much instantly fallen for you. Smart, funny, beautiful and friendly - Bob thought you were the whole package. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever you spoke about something you were interested in, the way your cheeks blushed whenever Maverick and Rooster started reminiscing about your childhood, having grown up playing with Rooster on occasion when you were little, and he loved the way you were so outgoing, and so unlike him. He always hated his incurable shyness, the fact that he struggled so hard to come out of his shell, he resented it, especially now that it made it next to impossible for him to hold a conversation with you. 

“Hey, Baby-on-Board, you coming?” 

Bob turned his head around to face one of the pilots on his squad, Hangman, calling over to him. Bob rolled his eyes at the nickname Hangman had given him and shook his head quickly, his cheeks turning red again. He prayed that the UV rays were strong enough that day that he could lie and say the reddening of his face was due to too much sun exposure, but he knew that wasn’t likely going to work as an excuse on anyone, much less Hangman. The tall blonde pilot raised an eyebrow at Bob as he folded his arms over his broad chest. 

“Jeez, Bagman, don’t you ever wear a shirt?” Bob laughed dryly as he poked fun at Hangman, who had long ditched his t-shirt to show off his sunkissed skin, trying desperately to attract any female attention he could get on the beach.

“Hey, at least I don’t keep mine on the whole time at the beach.” Hangman shrugged as he sat down on the sand beside Bob. “Why do you anyway? I mean, you do all the same workouts as the rest of us do. It’s because you’re covered in chest hair isn’t it?” Hangman smirked as he playfully shoved Bob, flipping his sunglasses down over his eyes.

“No, I just don’t like to,” Bob shrugged his shoulders, “You know me, I’m not one to draw attention to myself.” 

“I hate to break it to you, Bobby, but you’ve definitely drawn someone’s attention,” Hangman grinned at him as he pointed towards you with his thumb as he spoke, “Mav’s niece hasn’t been able to stop herself from giving you the bedroom eyes, it’s hilarious that you haven’t noticed it yet though.”

“Bedroom eyes?” Bob laughed and shook his head, “What the hell are bedroom eyes?” 

“You know,” Hangman put his sunglasses atop his short blonde hair and grinned, imitating the lustful look he was referring to, the one he was so convinced you had for Bob.

“I have never seen anyone make that face in my life, Bagman. Are you bullshitting me?” Bob raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on his palms in the sand and sighed softly as he watched you again. The breeze blew your long hair back and the sunlight hit your tanned skin just right, making you appear to have a sunkissed glow. The sight alone was almost enough to drive Bob crazy. 

“Hah!” Hangman grinned as he pointed at Bob’s facial expression as he watched you, “You’re doing it to her right now!”

“I am not!” Bob protested, shaking his head. “Look, don’t you have something better to do?”

“No, I know I’m a shitty wingman half the time, but this time, I’m making it my personal mission to be yours.” 

Bob sighed again as he rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn’t winning on this one, and Hangman wasn’t going to leave him alone anytime soon. He just wasn’t ready to make a move on you yet. He’d had a handful of girlfriends over the years, but he’d never gone any further than making out for one reason or another, usually due to nerves. As badly as Bob wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to be humiliated in front of you.

“I’m fine,” Bob said through clenched teeth. 

“Dude, you can tell me what your hang up is. I’m not gonna go blab it, I promise,” Hangman said, placing his hand over his heart playfully to show that Bob’s secret would be safe with him.

“Fine…” Bob exhaled and shook his head, “I don’t know what the bedroom eyes are or anything because I’ve never, you know…gone to the bedroom…with anyone,” He said as he gave Hangman a pleading look, his facial expression begging him for some sympathy and compassion instead of the relentless teasing he expected from him.

“You mean, never?”

“Never. Not even close. I think I’ve made out with a girl once. I was like 18 though.” 

“Wow,” was all that Hangman could muster out.

“So now you get it?” Bob asked softly, “It’s not that I don’t want to ask her out. It’s that I’m scared I’ll screw it up because of that.”

Bob sighed and shook his head again as he stood up. He brushed the sand off his shorts and forced a laugh.

“I’m gonna head home, Hangman. See you later.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hangman laughed as he put a hand on Bob’s shoulder, his firm grip stopping Bob from walking away, “You’re at least gonna talk to this poor girl. She’s been interested in you the whole time she’s been here visiting Mav. Christ, even Mav’s noticed it,, and we all know how observant he is.”

“What if you’re wrong though and she’s not interested in me? Maybe she’s just being nice. I bet you’re more her type anyway.” Bob frowned.

“Me? No, she’s uh…she’s made it very clear I am not her type,” He laughed softly, shaking his head, “I tried. She outright told me “the cute guy with glasses” is her type. And how many guys with glasses are on our squad?”

“Just me…unless she meant sunglasses. Then it could be anyone.”

“Robert, I swear, you’re the dumbest guy I’ve ever met sometimes,” Hangman laughed as he rolled his eyes, “She meant you, jackass. She likes you. She told me. Now, what are you going to do with this information?”

“Talk to her…?” Bob tried, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he thought about it.

“Attaboy, Baby-on-Board, you got this,” Hangman grinned as he stood up, “Now, do me a favour? Try to look a little less like you’re about to shit your pants over this ok?” 

Bob rolled his eyes and took a deep breath as he approached you, a friendly smile on his lips as he nodded his head towards you. 

“Hi, I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself,” Bob offered his hand out to shake and smiled, “Lt. Robert Floyd, everyone calls me Bob, sometimes Bobby though.” 

“Hi Bob,” you grinned and shook his hand, “Y/N. Nice to meet you. My uncle’s told me a lot about you. You’re a WSO, right?”

“Yeah, I’m the backseater, it’s kinda fun, I’m a big nerd, so I get to use a lot of math in it to calculate where to aim the lasers and all that.”

You let out a giggle as he explained his role to you and he couldn’t help but smile and laugh along with you. Hours passed between the two of you conversing together, Hangman proudly watching Bob impress you from the background. After a while, the rest of the squad cleared out from the beach, leaving just you and Bob there by yourselves. It was beginning to get dark outside when you stood up beside Bob and smiled warmly.

“Want to come back to my aunt Penny’s? She’s not gonna care if I bring you over, she and Uncle Mav speak very highly of you. Aunt Penny always says you’re incredibly polite, and Uncle Mav called you a “good kid” so I doubt they’d mind if you came back to hangout for a little while.”

Bob nodded his head and smiled politely at you, the sunset making his eyes shine as he turned to face you. He leaned forward gently and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled away after a moment and shook his head. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that. I’m not usually that forward. I mean, I wanted to, obviously,  I just normally ask first. And now I’m rambling, fuck sake,” He laughed and shook his head again.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, quieting his anxieties and insecurities as your lips met once again. He moved his lips in time with yours as he kissed you, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip, as if he was asking permission for it to enter your mouth. Your tongues swirled together with passion and lust as you made your way across the sand and over to the front steps of your aunt and uncle’s home where you were staying, your lips barely breaking contact as you walked. You felt Bob put a hand gently on your waist as you pulled him inside through the patio door, into the sunroom where you were staying. You breathlessly pulled away from Bob to come up for air, shrugging your cardigan off your shoulders as you did so. Bob, finding a sudden burst of confidence, grabbed you by the waist with one hand and pulled you into his body tightly, pressing his lips to your neck. As his lips found your sensitive spot on your neck, his hands palmed their way over your breasts, gently cupping them and squeezing them as he felt you up. 

“Mhmm, Bob,” you groaned softly as he made contact with your sensitive skin. 

Bob pulled away for a moment and frowned slightly, remembering his earlier confession to Hangman. He let out a deep exhale before turning to face you, his facial expression full of concern as he spoke.

“Listen, I have to tell you something before we go any further, ok?” His voice was quiet and low, almost in a whisper as he spoke.

You nodded in response and waited, listening intently as Bob spoke.

“I’ve never…you know,” He finally said.

“Never?”

“No, never.”

“Do you want to though…?” You asked after a few moments of contemplation.

Bob bit his lip and laughed softly as he nodded his head quickly. 

“Believe me, I really do.”

“Then I’m honoured to be your first,” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek gently.

His cheeks flushed a bright scarlet red as you spoke. Without further hesitation, Bob leaned in and kissed you passionately again, tangling his fingers gently in your hair as he pulled you in closer to him. He pulled away ever so slightly as he spoke and laughed nervously.

“You’re going to have to tell me if I’m doing any of this right, ok? Kissing is about the only thing I know how to do.”

You giggled softly as you nodded your head reassuringly to Bob as he drifted his lips down your neck to your collarbone. He gently ran his hand up your leg, his fingers brushing against the hemline of your sundress as his hand drifted slowly up your thigh. You felt him take a deep breath as he pressed his lips to your collarbone again, his fingertips grazing your underwear gently. He looked up at you without saying a word, his lips still hovering above your collarbone, as if to ask for permission to keep going. You bit your lip, holding back a grin as you nodded your head, giving him the signal to continue.

Bob’s fingertips grazed against the dampening fabric of your underwear again, moaning softly into your collarbone, he looked up at you as he slowly dragged them down off your legs and laughed softly. 

“Wow.” he said, trying to hide his mix of arousal and curiosity, “You’re uh…you’re pretty into this, aren’t you?” He laughed as he tossed your underwear to the floor. 

“Mhmm,” You smirked at him as you guided his hand, his fingers gently brushing against your folds, feeling your arousal as it began to gather on you. 

“Shit,” Bob laughed softly as he shook his head, “This is where I start to not know what I’m doing.” He gave you an apologetic look.

“Everyone has a first time, Bob, I’ll show you what to do,” You smiled reassuringly at him as you continued to guide his hand along your core. He smirked as his wandering hand found your clit, two of his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub as he discovered it. The sound that fell from your lips was almost enough to make Bob lose all self-control on the spot. He arched his eyebrow at you as he continued to gently draw circles on it with his finger. 

“Y-you can use your mouth there too,” you nodded, trying your best to think clearly as he pleasured you.

Bob bit his lip gently as he positioned himself between your legs. He took his glasses off and sat them beside your leg as he ducked his head down in between your legs. He gently pressed soft kisses to your folds, his tongue carefully lapping up your wet arousal as he kissed at you. You let out a loud moan as Bob’s lips made contact, but before he could lift his head up to see if you were ok, your hand was grabbing a handful of his sandy blonde hair, pulling his head into you gently to tell him to keep going.

Taking the hint, Bob continued to leave soft kisses on you, grinning as he heard you moan out. 

“Feels s’good, honey, keep doing that,” You encouraged as he began using his lips to suck at your sensitive clit, your hips bucking upwards against his mouth, your body craving being as close to him as humanly possible.

Your compliment to Bob’s skill turned something on in him, and suddenly, he began moving his lips in the same rhythm but with more passion, like he’d just discovered his God-given talent on this earth was using his mouth to pleasure you into oblivion. As you reached your boiling point, Bob continued to lap his tongue at you, his lips sucking on your clit as you rode it out. He pulled his mouth away from you before pulling his t-shirt over his head. He wiped his mouth on his shirt before discarding it to the floor and working to unbuckle his belt before dropping his shorts to the ground. His boxers were tenting with arousal as he looked down at you, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“Do you…do we need anything?” He asked as he tried build up the confidence to do what he was about to.

“I’m clean and on the pill,” You nodded your head and laughed softly, “So you’re good.”

“Right,” Bob chuckled softly as he nodded his head before peeling his boxer briefs down off his body. 

Bob stroked his length before lining his hips up with yours. He took a deep breath and looked to you for an indication that you were ready, that you were sure you wanted to go through with this. As you flitted your gaze to him, biting your lip as you sized him up, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. Bob looked at you, somewhat mortified as his eyes widened.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just…bigger than I’d pictured, if you get me. You might need to take a pause once you get started so I can adjust to you, mkay?”

“Gotcha, don’t worry darlin’,” Bob nodded knowingly and laughed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You let out a sharp exhale as Bob lined his hips up with yours and gently pushed himself into you. As promised, he paused for you to adjust to his size, waiting for you to tell him you were ready for him to start. Once he heard you give the ok, he began thrusting his hips in and out of you, a deep grunt escaping his lips as he felt your body tighten around him, your arousal dripping from you and onto his cock. 

“Fuck,” Bob groaned as he thrusted deeper into you, finding his rhythm, “You feel so good, darlin’.”

“Keep going, baby,” you purred at him, encouraging him to continue before throwing your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name loudly.

Bob felt your walls clenching against him, gripping his erection tightly as he pumped himself in and out of your body. He felt as you arched your back against the bed, bucking your hips upwards into his thrusts as you came close to your climax again. He groaned loudly in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier and more frantic.

“Fuck, darlin’, I’m so close,” He hissed as he let out another flurry of sinful sounding moans and grunts as he came.

The two of you sighed in unison as you rode your pleasure out together. Bob panted as he pulled himself out of you, his cheeks red from breathlessness as he tried to compose himself. He hovered over you, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his passionately, moaning softly against them as your overstimulated body struggled between wanting more from him, and wanting to take a break.

“How was I for my first time then?” He grinned at you. 

“I never would have believed you if you told me that was your first time after we’d done it. I also don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before this either.”

Bob smirked as he laid himself down beside you in bed, putting his glasses back on.

“Well, apparently I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Lewis Pullman really landed two major movie franchises as guys named Bob

Which means…if we ever get a live-action Bob the Builder movie…hmm…

[cherrycola27]

Whoever's in Lemoore

Hello, loves! I wrote this for @roosterforme 's #tgmrocktober challenge!

This fic is based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Warnings: Language, cheating, pregnancy and related complications. Angst

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

Bob Floyd was the best husband you could have ever asked for. He was kind, smart, hard-working, and attentive.

You were an elementary teacher, and Bob was a WSO. The two of you probably never would have met, had your best friend Jennifer "Boston" Lyons not set the two of you up. The two of you grew up together, and Jeni was a member of Bob's squadron in Lemoore.

Unfortunately, when Bob was called back to Top Gun and then eventually given a permanent station in San Diego, you had to leave her behind, but it was fine. You two had always made a long-distance friendship work. Honestly, it had helped prepare you for the times that your husband was deployed.

You were thankful though, that with his new station, deployments would be less frequent.

After buying a house and settling down, the two of you decided to start trying for children. Bob had three siblings, and while you didn't have any, both of you agreed on the fact that you wanted at least three kids.

You both also knew how stressful it could be on a couple when trying for children, so you decided to stop taking your birth control and have fun for a year. If you got pregnant, great, if not, after a year, the two of you would get serious, start tracking cycles, and see a specialist if needed.

You had really hoped that each month, you'd get a positive pregnancy test, but month after month, they came up negative.

Bob was extremely supportive of you, and after a year, the two of you buckled down. You tracked your cycle, both of you watched your diet, and you even saw a fertility doctor who assured you that both of you were healthy and to give it time.

Give it time.

You tried to give it time, you really did. But you were so desperate to be a mother that it started to take a toll on you, Bob, and your marriage.

Suddenly, trying for a baby wasn't as fun as it once was. Sex became more of a chore rather than a thing of enjoyment.

But finally—finally you and Bob got the miracle you'd been hoping for. Only, you seemed to be more excited about it than he was.

You chalked it up to shock.

Unfortunately, pregnancy was not easy for you. Early on, you were diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum, which caused you to experience dehydration and a short hospital stay. Your blood pressure was also dangerously high, and your blood sugar wasn't at a level that the doctors were happy with.

Which is why, at sixteen weeks, you were put on bed rest until your child was born.

It was hard for both of you. You couldn't eat or sleep. You were moody and irritable. You libido was also in the toilet. You hated your life, but you knew it would all be worth it.

At first, Bob seemed so supportive, but as time passed, be became cold and distant.

Looking at it now, you can pinpoint where the cracks in the foundation of your marriage started. If only you'd seen them sooner.

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

"Honey, I'm home." Bob called as he entered the kitchen. You were sitting on the couch watching TV. It was late. Almost 8pm. You had already eaten dinner, showered and changed into some comfy clothes.

You offered Bob a weak hello as he came in the door. He'd been getting home from work later and later.

In the darkest part of your mind, you thought the worst—that he had someone else. But he wouldn't do that to you. He was your Robby. You were carrying his son for crying out loud.

On a particularly bad day, you asked him about it. He was almost heartbroken that you could even think that.

He soothed your worries by telling you, "I'm working on important things for our future. I'm an officer on his way up. I'm trying to make sure you and the baby are taken care of." You believed him. You cried as you apologized to him.

"How's my favorite girl and my favorite little guy?" Bob asked as he came and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He pressed a few kisses to your stomach before moving to your lips.

"We are fine." You sighed as he trailed his lips across your jaw to your ear. "Fine? Is that so?" He whispered. His hot breath fanning across your skin.

Bob trailed one of his hands to the apex of your thighs before you stopped him.

"Bob, not tonight. I've been sick all day, and I've finally been able to keep something down." You told him with an apologetic smile.

He didn't say anything. He stood up, muttered something under his breath, and wordlessly went to shower.

You sat there and wept. You hated yourself. You felt like the worst wife on the planet.

Later that night, you tried to make it up to Bob, but you got sick halfway through. After you had puked your guts out, Bob had tried to hold you, but you didn't want to be touched. It led to an argument and him sleeping on the couch. What a Monday.

Tuesday, Bob came home and told you he'd be going to Lemoore Wednesday afternoon to help with a training workshop on Thursday and Friday and he would be back late Saturday evening.

"Again?" You sighed. "Bob, that's the third time this month! And you went several times the past two months. Doesn't Admiral Simpson understand that you have a pregnant wife at home who is high risk?" You ask him.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, but just a few more weeks and everything will dial down. I promise." Bob said as he kissed your head and went to pack a bag.

The only thing you had to look forward to was that Jeni—or Boston, as she typically went by her call sign now, was supposed to visit this weekend.

However, se called you Wednesday night telling you that she was sick and wouldn't make it.

So, you spent the rest of the week alone, sulking, in your all too quiet house.

When Bob came home on Saturday, you were feeling good. The best you had in all thirty weeks of your pregnancy.

You made him his favorite dinner and greeted him at the door with a big kiss. He was more than happy to sit down and have a meal with you.

After dinner, you urged him to shower, with the hope that you'd be able to spend some sensual time together.

While he was showering, you grabbed his bag to unpack it and do some laundry.

As you were taking his clothes out, a feminine scent washed over your extra sensitive nose.

Perfume—and it wasn't yours. But you were sure you smelled it before, you just couldn't place it.

You shook your head before letting your mind wander. Bob worked with women, and he was friendly—one of them probably gave him a hug and was wearing a lot of perfume—it made sense. Bob wasn't that kind of guy.

You dismissed the feeling in your gut and started the washing machine.

A few minutes later, Bob's phone rang. You checked the caller ID only to see that Jeni—your best friend was calling him.

"Jeni?" You said as you answered the phone.

"Y/N!" She exclaimed, almost as if she was surprised to hear your voice.

"Jeni, why are you calling Bob?" You asked her. There was a long pause.

"Jeni—why are you calling my husband?" You ask, this time a little more forcefully.

"Oh, Y/N, it was supposed to be a surprise. I'm coming down at the end of the month because I was going to throw you a surprise baby shower, and Bob has been helping me with it." She tells you.

"Aww, Jeni, that's so sweet. Well, I'll have him call you back so I don't ruin anything else!" You cheer into the phone before hanging up.

"Why do you have my phone?" Bob asks you. You turn around, surprised to see him.

"Jeni—er—Boston, I guess, called you to talk about the baby shower that you're helping her plan. I'm sorry I ruined the surprise, but Robby, you're the sweetest!" You say as you wrap him in a hug.

"Baby shower—right." Bob breathes out. "Let me call her back." Bob says as he takes his phone. You leave to give him privacy, but before you can make it down the hall, you hear him speak in harsh, angry whispers. You hate that you ruined his surprise, but you wish he wouldn't be so hard om Jeni. It's not her fault.

Another week passes, and Bob becomes more distant from you. You hyperemesis gravidarum is acting up again and your mood is all over the place.

He's coming home from work later, and you can't help but wonder if something is amiss. But you dismiss it time and time again.

One Wednesday afternoon, you decide to surprise Bob on base with his favorite lunch.

You walk into the rec room where his fellow aviators are waiting and they look at you like you have three heads.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Rooster asks you.

"I came to bring Bob some lunch. Where is he?" You ask them.

"Bob left early today. He said the two of you had some appointments this afternoon." Phoenix tells you.

In that moment, the world around you stops. The container of chicken pot pie and chocolate chip cookies slip from your hands and crash to the floor.

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you saw the mess you made.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" Hangman asks as he grabs some paper towels to clean up the mess.

"Yes, it's just I forgot, and I'm so late." You say as you turn on your heels to go to the hallway as you try to hold back tears.

"Y/N!" Phoenix calls after you. She intercepts you in the hallway.

"Is everything alright?" She asks you.

There's no point in lying.

"No. Nothing is alright. Between how hard this pregnancy has been and Bob having to go to Lemoore to teach classes, and him lying about where he is today. I think—I think he's having an affair." You finally admit.

"What do you mean he's been going to Lemoore?" Phoenix asks you.

You look at her blankly.

"Oh my god, I'm so fucking stupid. He's told me that almost every other weekend that he's had to help teach some classes in Lemoore. But that's when—that's when he has been going to see his mistress! That's where he is now! Oh my god!" You cried. Phoenix took you into her arms before leading you down the hallway to her office.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, maybe there is another explanation." Phoenix offers, but you can tell she isn't sincere. "I smelled perfume on his clothes, and he's been hiding his phone. I should have seen the signs, but I've been busy growing a human." You cry harder.

"It's all my fault. I've pushed him away. I've been so moody and sex—I haven't had the desire to—I drove him into another woman's arms." You sigh.

"Hey now, this isn't your fault." Phoenix tells you. "Let me take you home. You're in no shape to drive." Phoenix says. You agree and she helps you to her car.

"I need to call my best friend, Boston, she's a pilot, too. She was supposed to come down next weekend to throw me a baby shower, but now I don't want her to. I can't—I can't believe this." You sob as you dail her number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Your best friend's name is Boston?" Phoenix asks you. "It's her call sign." You tell her.

Phoenix swallowed thickly, praying her gut was wrong.

Phoenix offers to stay with you until Bob shows up, but you tell her you need to be alone.

You grab one of Bob's duffle bags and start stuffing his things in it. There's no way you are letting him stay in your house. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, you probably shouldn't be stomping up and down the stairs, especially with you being high risk, but you have to.

You make your way through the house every time you see a picture of you and Bob. You tear it off the wall or shelf it's on and throw it across the room.

He comes home late that night and hears you screaming. He rushes in the house and finds the living room destroyed and sees one of his duffle bags packed on the couch.

"Honey, Y/N, are you okay?" Bob asks you. You look at him, he looks so concerned.

You don't say anything to him. Instead, you march up to him and slap him so hard that his glasses fall off his face. He picks them up and looks at you like you're a wild animal.

"What the fuck was that for?" He curses at you.

"You know exactly what it's for, you liar." You spit at him.

"Honey, what are you talking about?" He asks.

"How long? How long has it been going on?" You question him.

"How long has what been going on?" He feigns ignorance.

"How long have you been sleeping with someone in Lemoore?" You accuse him. Bob tenses at your words. A day he had hoped would never happen, has.

"Don't even try to deny it. I looked through our credit card statements and saw the hotel charges." You say to him.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Bob says.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Why? Because you cheated or because you got caught?" You laugh. "It doesn't even matter. I packed you a bag. You can go stay with your mistress. And when whoever is in Lemoore is through with you, don't try to come back to me. Also, I'm telling you now, you will not be a part of this baby's life." You say as you try not to cry.

"Y/N, please, don't do this, I'm sorry, Boston, and I never meant to hurt you, it just—"

"Boston? Boston—as in Jeni? As in my best fucking friend who is like a sister to me? As in the person who introduced us? You've been fucking her?" Rage thrums through your veins. "I can't believe you, Robert. Take your things and leave. There's the door."

You turn away from him.

"Well, what did you expect, Y/N? You've pushed me away. You're moody and sick all the time. You never want to be physical. I was lonely. I needed someone, and Boston was there for me." Bob defends himself.

"You needed someone? You were lonely? That's rich. You don't think I've been lonely? You don't think I needed someone? The two people who were supposed to be there for me are the ones who betrayed me.

Bob opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly shuts it again.

"I packed a bag for you. We can work out a day where you can come get the rest of your things. Because when Boston decides she has better things to do, you don't have a home here anymore." You tell him as you sit down in the kitchen.

"Also, I called your mother, and while she and your family are more than welcome to be in this child's life, you won't be." You say.

"You called my mother?" Bob asks is disbelief. "Yes, Rebecca is very disappointed in you and told me to say that you weren't welcome in her home." You state.

Bob shakes his head. "So that's it? You're just giving up on us?" Bob asks as he stands at the door with his bag in hand.

"Don't try to spin this around on me. You're the one who gave up on us, Robert Floyd." You deadpan. There's no remorse in your voice as you ask him to leave.

Bob knows there is no point in trying to argue. He hangs his head and walks out the door.

That night, the Dagger Squad comes over to comfort you. Maverick asks you if you'd like to move to have Bob and Jeni dishonorbly discharged for their actions, but you turn him down. There's no sense in dragging it out.

Coyote and Hangman work to change all the locks for you in the house. Payback and Fanboy clean up the broken glass and thrown items in your floor.

You tell Maverick and Rooster where to find Bob's things, and they pack all of them in trash bags for you.

Phoenix sits with you on the couch, your head on her shoulder and she holds you as you cry.

Two weeks later, you find out that Bob put in a transfer to Lemoore after you serve him with divorce papers. You make sure to clean out your joint accounts before he can touch them.

Four weeks after that, your son is born.

Connor James Y/L/N is absolutely perfect when he is born. He has your features, and you're thankful for that. You don't know what you would have done if he'd come out looking like his father.

The Daggers and your family rally around you. True to your word, you let Bob's parents and sisters be in Connor's life. It's not their fault that Bob messed everything up.

You know, one day that your son will ask about his father, by then, you hope you'll have the words to tell him.

You also know that one day, you'll see Bob again. When you do, you'll ask him if whoever was in Lemoore was worth it.

You hope he's says no.

Taging somw who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @thedroneranger @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook01-blog @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @rhettabbotts @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

[averyhotchner]

Avery’s TopGun:Maverick Recommendation

hello! this is a list of my favourite TopGun: Maverick fics. it is mostly hangman and rooster (with a bit of love for my favourite wso). i absolutely adored every single fic/series on this list and hope some of you do too! also i didn’t include the warning for the fics, mostly because i forgot and didn’t feel like going back, but in general they are 16+, but please follow what the writers have put as the age limit. 

jake “hangman” seresin

sugar and spice (series)  by @wombtotombx

this series is so so so sweet. im an absolute sucker for enemies to lovers, but this just takes the cake. jake sersin may be a d*ck but he has good intentions so i can't help but love him. 

birds away (series) by @wombtotombx

another amazing series. i really love a good longtime friends to lovers. also the a little matchmaking on bradley’s end never hurts. 

sun-kissed (oneshot) by @ddejavvu

i want a candle that smells like jake seresin. thats all. 

bad habit (mini-series) by @seasonsbloom

again, enemies to lovers. this one is definitely a bit more tragic but nonetheless an amazing series that has you on the edge of your seat until the end. 

flyboy (mini-series) by @kryptonitejelly

this series is just the gift that keeps on giving. there is so so so much mutual pining but also just adoration between two people who have loved each other since high school. i honestly cannot recommend this series enough. 

they all know, he’s in love with you. (oneshot) @rolycolysficrecs

jake seresin couldn’t tell his head from his ass, and neither could i.

the professor (series) by @topguncortez

this series is so dirty holy. the title truly gives it away but the plot is heartbreakingly phenomenal.

the douche bag jar (series) by @jupitercometgold

this series makes me want to watch new girl. most of the above fics/series/ are about sweet jake, but this one gives me my fix of douche bag jake and i love it. 

better man (series) by @sweetlittlegingy

dad jake! dad jake! dad jake!

bradley “rooster” bradshaw

come back (series) by @ereardon

something about young frat boy bradley keeps me coming back to this series. hes sweet but will break your heart in all the worst ways, but will put it back together like it was a puzzle only meant for him. 

speak now (or forever hold your peace) (oneshot) by @softspiderling

i sobbed reading this. also i love a taylor inspired fic and this takes the cake.

same mistakes (series) by @hufflepuffprincesse

this series is one of my favourites, simply because of the way everyone is written as a big family. the love shared between everyone i so consuming, i can't help but find myself rereading the series every other week.

blooming (series) by @heartsofminds

rooster with commitment issues? check! rooster being sweet and respectful? check! penny behind the biggest hype man to ever exist? triple check!

come home (oneshot) by @winterscaptain

if you’ve followed me for long enough you’ll know that this is a tali appreciation blog, and that extends to tgm.

a safe place to land (series) by @thesewordsareallihavetogive

this series is just so good. its one of the first tgm series i read and it still holds up after my numerous rereads. 

is it working for you? (series) by @roosterforme

i picked this series, simply because its the gift that keeps on giving. its like the bradley version of flyboy. but truly anything emily writes is amazing.

robert “bob” floyd

coughs and cuddles (oneshot) by @topguncortez

happiest man alive (oneshot) by @footprintsinthesxnd

honorable mentions:

@honeypiehotchner @youlightmeupfinn @make-me-imagine @tongue-like-a-razor @katcoquette @madsnowstorm @croimilis @auroradawnwrites @almightyellie

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

If Bob Floyd was from a tiny one or two stop light town, what state would it be in? Like wrap around porches, everyone knows everyone and their business. That sort of place. Don’t just pick your own state either. Really think about it.

Please vote and share! Working on something new.

[highwaytothedangerzone86]

Lots of great Top Gun stickers available in my small shop!

Shop can be found here

Please share my post if you can, I had to move over to Shopify, so my website is still new ❤️

[twosroos]

all grown up [ch. 13 finale]

roos says ! cries bc i don't wanna finish this main sector of the series but smiles bc i know im writing one shots of it LMAOOO anyway thank u all for the wild ride that has been this series :(!!! if you enjoyed it please keep an eye on my page for more writing, I'm gonna be writing a lot more in the few weeks I'm home before school starts up again lol

desc ! the night before bob leaves feels a little bitter sweet, but you know that no matter what, you'll be seeing him again.

notable characters: robert "bob" floyd, jake "hangman" seresin

tws: mentions of violence, alcohol, cursing, and I think that's it?

ao3 link ! last chapter ! [links will be updated my tumblr is currently dying]

By the time you make it back outside, Jake’s standing by your mom as dinner is plated out. Bob plants a soft kiss on your lips before slipping into the crowd and waving hello to a friend while he scoops up Molly in his arms. You laugh softly, turning to go grab a drink when Jake presses a hand to your shoulder.

“Can I steal you for a moment?” He whispers and you nod, letting him pull you off to the side, behind the bar. He immediately asks, "did anyone find a ring while cleaning up the barn?"

"A ring? Yeah, we gave it to my mom." You say and Jake grabs your shoulders, gentle but firm as he turns you to look at him fully, his green eyes staring into yours deeply.

"Listen to me before you freak out, okay?" Jake says softly, glancing from side to side before he speaks again, "Mike came here with the plan of trying to get you to marry him. He said if you said no, he'd find a way to get you."

You scoff, though the idea of Mike trying to get to you makes your chest tighten and heart pound, "Why would he think I'd say yes? He's an idiot."

"I don't know, Rhinestone, but listen, okay? I want you to come to California with us." Jake almost bites his lips, as if expecting you to explode, but you just blink at him.

"Wait, what?"

"You need to come with us, I already talked to your mom and she said it was okay, and I can get you on our plane--" Jake's eyes a wider than usual, clear panic in his tone, but for some reason, you don't seem to pick up on it.

"Jake, wait, I can't go. I have to train for the Open." You laugh under your breath, a weird sort of self-soothing feeling clouding your thoughts for a second before you shake it away to think instead of ignoring what was going on, "I have to train my students, and I'd have to talk to my boss. Jake, I can't just go now."

"But Mike--" Jake urges and your chest tightens, fear taking hold as you start to subconsciously realize just what Jake's saying. Mike wants to come and get you. To hurt you, or something along those lines. But you also have things here you need to do, the Open is something you've been dreaming of doing, and how are you supposed to do all that without your horse?

"I'll get a gun, or something, I'll do what I have to but I can't come with you guys. I have shit to do here, I have a life here!" You shout, as the cloud of  glaring at Jake, "I'll figure it out, but I'm not leaving."

"No! Rhinestone-!"

"Why are you two yelling over here?" Bob asks, a drink in hand as he passes one to you, "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, Rob." You sigh waving a hand at him while you go and take a swig of your drink. It's just the drink you would've made yourself, and you wonder how he knows it. Jake scoffs immediately after you speak, waving a hand in shock, though making sure to keep his movement away from you.

"No! We aren't sweeping this under the rug are you crazy?" He snaps and you huff, knowing you're kinda acting immature and downplaying it, but they leave tomorrow, and who are you to worry them?

"We are," You take a long swig of your drink, "Because I'm not coming to California."

"Woah Woah Woah, can we slow down?" Bob holds a hand out, "Why is she coming to Cali?"

Jake crosses his arms, staring you down with a tinge of annoyance in his gaze, "Because Mile's a fucking lunatic. And I don't trust him to not drive his ass back here and hurt her."

"I have to train for the Open!" You groan, bringing a hand to your head, "Mike’s a lunatic for thinking he was even gonna get me to marry his ass! I'm not fucking arguing this right now with you. Let's just enjoy the party, and deal with it tomorrow before you leave."

“He wanted to marry you?” Bob whispers, “What..? But he’d put his hands on you like that?”

"I don't know, I don't think Mike has a single thought in his head." you sigh softly, "But, I promise you that nothing will happen. I'll stay home through the open, maybe move back into my Mom's house or something? I'll get a gun, I'll do what I need to."

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Jake asks and Bob turns, nodding his head at Jake and then to you and blinking softly. You sigh, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll figure it out, and I'm sure my family and Robby's family will help me out as much as needed. They hate Mike more than I do."

"I trust them, and I trust you." Bob murmurs, gently crossing his arms, "I'm gonna be honest, Darlin', I'd feel better if you came with us... but I understand needin' to stay back for the open. I just don't want something to happen."

"I know, Robby. Look, the Open's in a month. I'll train and as soon as I'm done I'll come right to California. I'll talk to my parents about Genevieve, and I'll just... I don't know, keep tabs on him as best I can, okay?" You move to hug him, placing your head right under his collarbone. He doesn't hesitate to plant a kiss on your hairline and wrap you tightly in his arms.

"You call me at the first sign of trouble, you hear me?" He whispers, "Please."

"I will. I promise." You murmur and Bob leans forward to gently press his lips to yours, molding in perfectly.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Floyd." You murmur when the kiss pulls back, but something shifting behind you makes you remember the fact that Jake’s only a few feet from you. You blink, noticing the way his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Jake?”

"You’re fucking?” He gapes and before you go to sputter out a shush to him he groans and dramatically sloshes his drink, “I owe Phoenix a hundred dollars! Fuck!”

“Never bet with me, Bags!” Phoenix calls from a distance, and then all the pilots realize what was entailed by those two conversations and start whistling.

Bob realizes before you do.

“Oh my fucking god! you had a bet we were gonna get together?!” He groans and you nearly spit out your drink at the realization.

“Are we like a thing?”

“We’ve had sex twice, and all the other shit, so yeah, I think so?” 

Jake laughs, head tossed back against the bar and you groan as you bury your head in Bob's shoulder. He laughs softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame and kissing your head again. Across the way, Bob catches Asher's eye and the latter gives him a small nod, almost like approval. Bob nods back a promise to keep you safe, completely unspokenly fixing the fear in your brother's heart.

--

Majority of those not sleeping over that night part by eleven, the rest splitting off around one. The daggers, plus you, decide that you're gonna end up being up at four in the morning anyway, so what would three more hours of awakeness hurt? You all end up in the pool, the 'elders' lounging in the shallow end while the rest of you idly float around the deep end and roughhouse a bit every few minutes. Eventually, people start to break off to shower and pack to leave for the night, and Bob's one of the first claiming he's got a lot of things to do. The group, at first, keeps him in the pool with drinks and conversation until he finally manages to get out.

Though, you snag him for one last kiss before he goes and then float idly along the pool walls as Tom Petty fades out on the radio as Bob walks down the trail to your house.

"You," Jake sneers, "Motherfucking bitch. You didn't tell me you were dating?!"

People started laughing, Fanboy laughing so hard he had to put his head down on the side of the pool and calm himself down. The rest of the pilots laughed along, and you chuckled as you rolled your eyes and downed the rest of your drink.

"I don't think we're like, super serious," You said, "But I think that'll change when I get to California." 

"Oh, when will you be joining us in good ol' Fightertown, Rhinestone?" Rooster calls, kicking the wall so his float drifted over to you and Jake's floats. Phoenix kicked him back, giggling when he groaned, as Halo fist-bumped her as she sat next to Phoenix on the side of the pool.

"Well, The Open is three days before Bob's birthday. I'll probably fly down after driving back from Virginia with Fuego." You hum, drumming your fingers along the side of the pool and blinking up at the stars, "Maybe I'll surprise him for his birthday."

"Oh!" Fanboy perks up, "Oh! We are so surprising him for his birthday, Coyote and Halo, you're helping me plan this, right?"

"Oh hell yeah." Halo raises her drink, "as long as Coyote lets me actually plan this time."

The two immediately start to argue and you laugh, turning your head to Jake who shrugs at them and splashes water their way, and the squawk Coyote lets out makes everyone laugh aloud. A few people leave the pool around this time, and 

"Thanks for showing us a different side of Bob," Fanboy calls as he hops into the pool behind Jake and you shrugged.

"That's the Bob I know." 

“You’ll see the Bob we know if you get on base,” Fanboy says, idly floating back over and swatting a mosquito away idly. And after about an hour, you're turning off the lights in the outdoor pool area before making your way to your small house in the back of the property. Making your way inside, and climbing up your temporary ladder, you see Bob finishing up packing in grey sweats and no shirt.

"A sight for sore eyes." You chime, giggling to yourself as you walked over to your dresser and picked out an oversized shirt and a pair of tiny shorts to sleep in. As usual.

"As are you." He hums, coming up behind you and planting a soft kiss on your jaw as he rocks you from side to side in the dim light of your small cozy bedroom, "I love you."

"Never stop saying that." You sigh, "I love you too, Robby. I love you so much, thank you for loving me, and trusting me."

"Thank you for giving me another chance, darlin'." He chuckles his response, watching as you turn around and press your hands to his chest as you smile at him and the feeling of his arms tight around your back.

"I dunno if you would've given me another choice, you were real willin' to give it all for me." You tease, and despite your smile, Bob's face hardens just a bit. It wouldn't be noticeable to anyone but you or his mom, but it makes you falter.

"If you told me no sternly, I'd walked away." He hums, bringing one hand up to cup your face, "I'm not Mike, and I'm not gonna let anyone love you as he did. No one is ever gonna put their hands on you like that again, darlin'."

You pause, blinking back the tears in your eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. He blinks into it, then sighs softly as you slowly pull back, "You're the only man I wanna love."

"Good." He squeezes your hips, then teasingly pops the side of his hand against your butt with a chuckle, "cause I don't want anyone else to have you."

"Now, lemme shower and do all my bedtime things before we can lay down." You smile and he nods, peppering a few kisses across your cheeks before you slip into the attached bathroom and do what you need to do. When you get back into your bedroom, Bob's laying down and texting on his phone. He perks up when you lay down beside him and bury yourself in the blankets as the fan rolls air across your room.

"How much longer until you leave?" You ask, nudging your face against his shoulder and blinking up at him. He smiles, kissing your hairline as he plops his phone down and watches you look up at him.

"Two hours." He rubs your arm, turning and kissing your head again, "I don't wanna leave you."

You sigh, "I know, honey. But hey, it won't be too long until I see you again. I'll be in California sometime after The Open, and we can just... live. No Mike, no stupid siblings, just us. And the Navy I guess."

"And the Navy." He laughs softly, letting you roll so you're practically on top of him. His arms wrap tightly around you and he peppers kisses along your skin. You lay there, letting him just gently kiss your skin and murmur compliments along your skin. Trying your hardest to not fall asleep, you blink slowly and grunt with agitation when you realize you can't stay awake as well as you want to.

"Go to sleep, alright? I'll wake you up before I leave." He murmurs, "I have a gift for you anyways, and I wanna say goodbye."

And despite you saying you won't, Bob watches as your eyes slip shut and your cheek smushes against his chest and he smiles as he adjusts the both of you until you're comfortable and then idly scrolls on his phone to pass the time. The sounds of the fan idly vibrating as it runs and your soft snores being his only company.

When his alarm to get ready to leave goes off, he shakes your shoulder softly. After a few grunts and complaints from you, he manages to get you to blearily wake up with the promise of his aforementioned gift. You rub your eyes and lazily sit up and yawn slowly as he pops his bag down and rustles through it before handing you something small and metal. The cold, rough feeling against your hands makes your eyes widen as you look at your hands.

"Dogtags?" you ask and Bob nods, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he takes the chain and unclasps it before lifting the tags up.

"I want you to have something to remember me by, Y/n... they accidentally gave me a second pair of dog tags during boot camp and I had to just live with it. I guess I was meant to give these to you, and..." He clips the chain on your neck and settles the dog tags between your collarbones. You blink up at him, trying to not burst into tears as you watch Bob's eyebrows lift up in an upset look. 

"Robby..?"

"No matter what happens to us I want you to have these because I love you more than I love breathing. I love you more than this job, my friends, or my entire livelihood. And I need you to have this because this.." he taps the metal, "This is me. And if you have it, I'm with you just like you're with me in the jet as that old ass photo."

"You have your own, right? In case something happens..?" You whisper and he nods, gently bringing his hands to your face and kissing your lips so softly, so tenderly that you wish you could hold him there forever.

"I love you." He whispers, "You hung the stars for me, and if you asked I'd lay down everything I know for you."

"That's a bit excessive." You tease, kissing him once more and his laugh makes your heart light up because who knew that you'd have this only a few days ago?

"Maybe." He shrugs with a dopey, half-awake smile, "but that's love."

"That's love." You agree, and when Jake comes to get Bob a few minutes later, he doesn't comment on the dog tags. None of the pilots do when you wish them all goodbye.

And you look into flights from Georgia to California and buy some silicone silencers after practice one day because god those things fucking click like mad. And Bob calls you every night, and sometimes the other pilots are there and when you miss him, all you have to do is put your hand over your chest where the dog tags are and everything feels alright again.

[mccarthaevita]

Bob Floyd Aestetic Inspired by Letters to My Love by @bradshawsbaby

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Flying High…On The Bars 🤸🏽‍♂️ | Top Gun Maverick Imagine (Bob Floyd) Part II-Final

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

read part 1 here

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Olympic gymnast!reader (romantic), Dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of sporting injuries, slight profanity, recounts details of 2012, 2016, & 2020 Olympic Games. Emotional at the end| Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 14k+ (not edited, so sorry if there are few mistakes. I plan to go back and fix them.)

Premise: When one sets their eyes on the Olympic dream, it becomes their life. When one falls in love with a person committed to achieving that dream, it becomes theirs as well. One year after a global pandemic shut down the world and two years after the high-risk uranium mission of the Top Gun special detachment, the Games of the XXXII Olympiad have finally commenced with Bob Floyd and his fellow daggers gathering in Lemoore, California to watch the love of his life step foot on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Prepping for her final Olympic Games, gold medalist Y/n L/n thinks back on her decade long career, with obstacles, trials, and tribulations in its wake……and finding love along with way.

Note: so these Olympic imagines have been dear to my heart, because I was once a little girl doing gymnastics with an olympic dream. unfortunately it did not work out, but I love to imagine what could have been you know. As I disclaimed in part one, I am well aware of the scandal that took place with USA gymnastics (I’m utterly disgusted that it happened for as long as it did and at the people who tried to cover it up plus I wish nothing but cruel and hell to that despicable doctor.) For the sake of not triggering anyone, I have omitted to mention it in this imagine, but I am well aware it did happen and my heart is with the gymnasts who were affected and targeted.

I highly recommend listening to the song linked at the end during the floor routine bit. I lowkey nearly shed a tear cause I was listening to it while writing it and it just fits so bad. The Spotify one is not what I’m referring to, that’s just a song I love that I often think of emotional comeback stories with.

—————————————

2016: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The Games of the XXXI Olympiad

When the day of the qualifications took place on the first night of competition, Y/n was met with a major let down in the results. While thrilled to compete in the team final and have a chance at defending her titles on the bars and beam, Y/n was pushed out of the All-Around competition. As predicted Simone was the top gymnast to qualify, leaving the returning Olympians to compete against one another for the final spot. A mistake on the floor had been the contributing factor when Y/n stepped completely out of bounds on her final tumbling pass. A major deduction, she already had a low start value compared to the others.

That one big step had her chances at All-Around gold disappear.

On the mat Y/n maintained a smile, congratulating Aly and Simone as well as the rest of the team for a great run that had them take the #1 spot for team qualifications. She and Gabby’s hug lingered a little longer, both wearing solemn expressions. Both feeling the same loss, but still happy for their teammates who do get the chance to fight for the honor of All-Around Olympic champion.

“And here are the defending Olympic All-Around, uneven bars, and balance beam champions embracing in what can only be described as a bittersweet gesture. The two have been through so much together as members of the national team, competing in London together and multiple Worlds. They both had stellar Olympic runs four years ago and were so happy at the announcement of the trials to, along with Aly Raisman, represent the US in another Olympic Games. In what could very well be their last Olympic appearance, Gabby Douglas and Y/n L/n. Two world class athletes, who will not get the chance for All-Around gold.”

“I can’t imagine what Y/n must be feeling right now—finishing third overall but because of the two-per-country rule she’s been pushed out by Aly Raisman. It’s deja vu right now in the dome—thinking back to London when the reigning World All-Around Champion, Jordyn Wieber, did not qualify for the finals. Y/n has said time and time again that her motivation for training these past four years was to hopefully qualify for the All-Around competition. She was doing so well tonight, but that step out of bounds on the floor unfortunately was the dealbreaker. It now leaves us to wonder if this will be the last time we see Y/n in an Olympic Games once this week comes to an end.”

That night in her room at the Olympic village, Y/n allowed the emotion to flow freely. She cried in the shower when the realization finally set in. The All-around was now a thing of the past. The Olympian was heartbroken that everything she worked for after London would not be seen by the world. She could only imagine what the commentators had said after the results came in. They’d been talking for days how she was the expected person to qualify after taking the silver at two consecutive World Championships.

But like every gymnast told themselves when competing, anything could happen.

Y/n allowed herself one hour to cry and be depressed, but then she had to get back to work. There was no time to get in her feelings when the gold was on the line. In two nights would be the team final, and then she’d have a few days before competing on bars and finally ending her Olympics on the beam.

Qualifications were done. The finals were up.

This time around the USA was paired with China. Russia was #3 coming out of qualifications, but they were gonna be bringing the heat again. Four rotations, three athletes from each country with all three scores counting. There was no room for mistakes. Unlike four years prior in London, Y/n was selected to be part of the first rotation on vault. She was the defending World champion on the apparatus, having performed and successfully landed a triple twisting Yurchenko, making her the first gymnast to pull it off without a fall and therefore it was named after her. It wasn’t her first eponymous skill. At the 2013 World championships a transition from low to high bar was named after her following successful completion, then a quadruple spin on beam and a new uneven bars mount at the 2015 Worlds, all four called the L/n. It was speculated Y/n would unveil a new dismount in Rio.

And that’s exactly what she had planned.

On the first rotation, the vault, Y/n played it safe by performing the Amânar—a Yurchenko 2 ½ twist named after Romanian gymnast, Simona Amânar—rather than go for the full three. They wanted a good lead to start and Y/n was confident she could deliver. After many years she’d become better on vault to the point she was a contender against well known strong vaulters like Simone and Mckayla Maroney. Getting a vault named after her only increased that opinion. Of course every now and then she’d have a little step on the landing but it was never like in juniors where she was well off to the side or nearly out of bounds.

Y/n felt the pressure to the point it was almost nauseating. She was the first to kick off Team USA on the vault. What used to have a start value of 6.5 in London, the Amânar was now a 6.3. Had she done the triple twist it would have been a 7.0 start value, but the coaches urged her to play it safe after taking big steps in training. Y/n drowned out the roar of the crowd when the announcer spoke during her salute to the judge. “Em abóbada, representando os Estados Unidos da América, Y/n L/n.”

“On vault, representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n.”

Pumping out a score of 15.693, it was a spectacular start for team USA. Aly and Simone did great on their turn, soon China was up leaving the team to mentally prepare for the next rotation: bars. After everyone was done they had some time to wait. It was usually like that with the vault since it went so fast compared to full routines. Floor always took the longest of the four apparatuses so Y/n went ahead and got her grips out and ready for bars warmup.

At the end of the rotation they were in the lead, but it was close. There was no doubt after vault the competition would be a heated battle for the crown. Team USA was going for back-to-back gold, Russia was looking for redemption after disaster in London. China was looking to medal after getting fourth four years prior. It was more personal for the gymnasts with the significance of the year. 2016 marked 20 years since the Magnificent Seven won gold in Atlanta.

Then came the uneven bars, Y/n’s favorite. Coming into Rio they were the 4-time World Champion and defending Olympic champion with the highest start value of 7.1–which would increase to an 8.1 for the event finals. Her start value in London was higher than here in Rio, but with the new Code of Points after every Olympic cycle it dropped the values of several skills. She’d be last in the line up, with commentators already buzzing on the excitement for her routing.

“There’s the three-time olympic champion. Y/n L/n of the USA, getting ready for her turn on the uneven bars in this women’s team final. For those of you watching at home who are new to the world of gymnastics, this is a routine you’re going to want to watch. We’re talking world class. Y/n is the four-time World champion—first winning the title first in 2011 and went on to claim it again these last three years on top of being the 2012 Olympic gold medalist. She is a star on this event, jam packed routine with two skills named after her—which we’ll see in just a moment. All year Y/n has been the talk of hoping to repeat her London success—the US is currently going for their second team gold as we’ve mentioned several times—but Y/n is looking to come out on top in the individual bars and beam final we’ll see in a few days. I have no doubt she’ll likely take the gold in the uneven bars, but beam is going to be interesting with Simone Biles as her competition.”

“It should also be noted, Allen, that Y/n is hinting at possibly unveiling a new dismount in the uneven bars final. I heard speculation that after qualifications her coaches had petitioned a start value change for her routine. What we're about to see here is going to be the same one she performed Sunday night with a value of 7.1, but if my sources are true then we could be seeing it change to a record breaking 8.1 this coming Sunday. A whole point increase.”

When Y/n’s feet hit the mat following the end of the routine, her smile shined with the cheers of the crowd. All thoughts of missing out in the All-Around had disappeared. Flying high on the uneven bars was basically therapy for the gymnast. Her teammates were screaming, jumping up and down before racing to embrace her. Mike gave her a high-five and a hug, telling her she was magnificent. The team USA supporters were on their feet. It was a beautiful scene. And it made it all the better with a score of 16.765.

Second on the beam rotation, Y/n came through with a score of 16.046 from a start value of 6.6. It was then time for her teammates to finish the job with Simone ending the beam before they went to floor.

And they didn’t disappoint.

At the end of the competition, USA was on top of the board, with the ‘Final Five’ on top of the podium. History. Actual history.

Then when Sunday night came around, history was once again made when Y/n became the first American gymnast to win back-to-back gold on uneven bars. “She’s going for the 8.1 start value—wow, this could be history in the making folks. The reason it’s so high is because the dismount she is planning to do is rated a J-valued skill—it’s a full point. And if she lands it, feet on the ground and arms up, it will be named after her to become her fifth eponymous skill. She’s already got four to her name including a D-valued mount and transition here on bars. I’m confident we’re already witnessing Olympic history for Y/n L/n. Even if she falls off of the bar—which is a full point of deductions—she’ll still win. It would have to be a catastrophic routine for the gymnast to not take the gold—which I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her in an international competition.”

The last to go as the top qualifier, Y/n waits patiently for her turn until signaled to step on the mat. Mike gives her a routine prep talk, telling her to just do her best like she’s always done with a fatherly kiss to the head. Green light from the judge she salutes, “Representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n!” Two licks to each thumb, one clap and a deep breath, Y/n’s roundoffing onto the springboard and the routine begins.

“Very difficult mount—round off onto the springboard and half turning into a straight position to catch the low bar. Now it’s just greatness from here on out—stellar combinations of pirouettes and transitions with big releases. It just does not slow down—and what makes it so much more complicated for judges to take deductions is Y/n has near perfect form—which is very difficult for gymnasts with skills of this level. Big release combo after these handstand pirouettes on the high bar….gorgeous. Gorgeous, gorgeous form. Moment of truth here, the crowd is already on edge—some already celebrating—Y/n hasn’t had a fall and therefore may get the full 8.1 start value. The dismount she’s been hinting at all Olympic Games—can she land it for her second Olympic gold on the uneven bars—AND SHE’S GOT IT! SHE COMPLETED THE SKILL! HER ARMS ARE UP! HOLY MOLY IT’S HISTORY FOR Y/N L/N OF THE UNITED STATES!!”

Tears were in Y/n’s eyes, lip quivering as she let out a breath of relief. It was like a scene from a movie where there's that brief moment of silence for the main character before it explodes around them. Barely could she make out the sound of her own inner thoughts with the vibration of the packed stadium. Saluting the judges felt like slow-motion, and Y/n could’ve sworn she saw one give a slight nod of respect. Another had their mouth slightly agape, in disbelief the gymnast pulled it off. Shit Y/n was in disbelief herself.

“She took a huge step, stumbling to catch herself, but she got her feet on the mat and arms up for a stunning finish to a phenomenal routine. The crowd here in Rio is unbelievable with Team USA in the stands going crazy as we just witnessed Y/n L/n do what no American gymnast has done before! A J-valued dismount—her third eponymous skill on the uneven bars and a second Olympic gold! That’s going down in the history books as one of the greatest moments in USA gymnastics.” Y/n races off the mat, practically catapulting into the arms of her coach. The cameraman races after her.

“The score hasn’t even come in yet, but it’s already known to every single person here that the medal belongs to Y/n L/n. She did not fall, she had perfect form on those handstands—the only big deduction will come from that stumble on the landing. Even if she had a fall it would’ve still put her at a 7.1 start value—the highest of any gymnast in this competition. But she landed that dismount and got the full 8.1 she was hoping for. Right now the top score on the board is 15.900 but that’s about to change any second now—-IT’S A 17.408!!!! IT’S OFFICIAL—Y/N L/N IS THE TWO-TIME OLYMPIC CHAMPION ON THE UNEVEN BARS!! THE FIRST AMERICAN TO CLAIM BACK-TO-BACK INDIVIDUAL GOLD!!”

Two-time Olympic champion.

Words could not even describe the emotion Y/n was feeling. Their fifth gold medal in the Olympics…which became six two nights later in a stunning twist of events. With a start value of 6.3, Y/n gave her all the moment her hand hit the apparatus. She was just hoping to get on the podium, regardless of the color and add another medal to her collection. The second to last to compete, Y/n cheered Simone from the sides after receiving her score of 15.698–putting her in the top position that guaranteed Y/n the silver. Like everyone else in the arena gasped when the All-Around champion touched the beam to catch herself from falling off. She hated the way her heart started pumping, knowing damn well a mistake like that is a full point deduction because the judges treat it like a fall off the beam. Not wanting to get her hopes high, she rejected the thought of possibly being the winner and continued to support her friend and teammate.

When the score did come for Simone, Y/n was in disbelief. The final results were in. Just like it was London, Gold & bronze for the USA.

Y/n was now a two-time gold medalist on the beam.

She was pretty much frozen when Simone and her coach embraced her. Her arms went around Simone first, the tears escaping after a sob managed to leave her. “Unbelievable! In a stunning turn of events, Simone Biles has taken the bronze medal—Y/n L/n, the defending 2012 Olympic champion has reclaimed the gold! It’s a sweep for America—they have taken the gold in every women’s event final in Rio! Simone Biles for the All-Around, vault and floor, Y/n L/n for the bars and beam, and Team USA returning as the #1 team in the world. Take it all in for you folks watching at home. I don’t think we’ll ever see something like this again.”

“Team USA go 1 & 3 in the women’s balance beam final—It’s Y/n L/n on top of the podium once again just like four years ago, this time with All-Around champion Simone Biles with the bronze. The 20-year-old from Lemoore, California has done the impossible—repeating her London success with three gold medals here at the Olympic Games in Rio. She now has the record of the most Olympic gold medals of any American gymnast.”

Returning to the States, Y/n was met with celebration. Parades were in store, interviews lined up, and appearances on talk shows. Getting the call from James Corden felt like she’d been dreaming. Her second biggest fangirl moment came on the show when Harry Styles and Scarlett Johansson were the other guests. “Y/n, welcome to the show—this is your first appearance since winning gold in Rio. So happy to have you with us.”

“It’s an honor to be here, James,” she grinned, willing her voice to remain steady. Usually she was good with reporters and the press, but talk shows with people she admired was a different ballgame. “You know this almost feels like a full circle moment sitting beside Harry,” a hand motions to the singer, who’s brows raise a bit in confusion but maintains a smile, “It brings me back to the London Games—because I watched you perform with One Direction at the closing ceremonies.”

“Oh wow, that’s right,” he laughed, beaming at the Olympian. “Crazy to think that was already four years ago. Now you’re a repeat champion—which is so amazing.” Y/n blushes as the audience claps and hollars.

James cuts in, “Not only are you a champion, but you have the most gold medals for any American gymnast—what an accomplishment. Member of back-to-back winning teams and defending your title as the uneven bars and balance beam champion. Your bars routine has become one of the most replayed moments in Rio. Let’s actually take a look at it, here is that gold medal moment of the women’s uneven bars final,” everyone turns to the monitor. The footage of Y/n’s routine plays, capturing the moment she successfully landed the dismount and secured the gold. The audience cheered as it came to an end with Y/n smiling shyly. “Now that the Games have passed, people are wondering if that was it for you for the Olympics. Is Tokyo something you have your eyes set on?”

On the couch Harry and Scarlet looked just as curious. All the attention was on the athlete, causing her to become a little flustered as she thought of the best way to respond. It wasn’t the first time she was asked about Tokyo. There were already discussions among commentators—wondering if missing out on the All-Around again would be motivation to train for a third Olympics.

“I really hadn’t made a decision about Tokyo on the basis of what Rio would bring. Just getting to go to another Olympics and actually succeeding in defending my titles is an extreme honor—and I have to give credit to my girls, the team gold wouldn’t have happened without them. Simone, Aly, Gabby, and Laurie. They’re the most incredible gymnasts to ever exist and it’s a blessing I get to share that glory with them,” Y/n pauses at the claps, “I had planned already to compete in next year's Worlds, but Tokyo was not set in stone. But….missing out of the All-Around competition has definitely ignited a fire in me. I didn’t get the chance to compete in the event at London—which pretty much motivated the past four years to make the Rio team. I’ll be 24 in 2020–and of course injuries can occur, but…I think I will try to get a third Olympics—just to hopefully qualify for the All-Around. And then regardless if I make the team or not, I will more than likely retire.”

And so the training for Tokyo 2020 commenced with the athlete returning to her hometown of Lemoore. Y/n’s gym she’d been training since 5 years old had increased in students since her first Games. Many of the students, boys and girls alike, looked up to the gymnast—often sticking around after their classes just to get a glimpse of Y/n. Her coaches had been sought out by athletes across the nation, but Mike and Mary declined offers to put their sole focus on Y/n. There were plenty of other assistant coaches in the gym who could easily take on the role they were desiring. It would be until after Y/n retired that they’d take on another gymnast.

The one thing Y/n could not have predicted that first year after Rio, was running into the adorable Navy officer she’d met at the trials. Lieutenant Junior Grade Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. While the whole interaction seemed like light years away with everything that happened after the trials, Y/n could never forget the blue-eyed man and his sister. Deep down she was a little sad at not getting a notification on social media he posted their photo. Then she could have followed him and even messaged the guy.

Y/n brushed it off as Bob maybe not having social media. Not everyone was big into it and that was totally fine. He was just a memory at that point. So one could imagine her surprise when Y/n spotted him on the air strip of NAS Lemoore, she had to do a double take.

It was a sunny spring morning on a Tuesday when the two reunited. Y/n’s car was in the shop and wouldn’t be done till the afternoon so her coaches gave her the morning of training off. Though Y/n no longer lived with her parents, having moved to her own place with the money from sponsorships by going pro, she still visited them nearly everyday. That particular day her car was at the base Firestone and so to pass time she was at her dad’s job….which happened to be at the airstrip.

Searching for the lounge to get a snack she passed some of her dad’s coworkers, offering a smile and wave. The area was mostly reserved for civilian workers, but every now and then a serviceman or woman would be seen. Finding the lounge Y/n grabbed a fruit bowl and water, not noticing the man seated at a high table with his headphones in and eyes focused on his laptop screen. Bob didn’t even see her come in, so when Y/n did a quick sweep as she made her way out, Bob was oblivious to her reaction.

“Bob?” The sudden confused tone of someone calling out to him had the man jump. When he snapped his head in its direction, Bob’s eyes went wide, frantically pulling away the headphones and pausing the video. For a moment he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But then her expression turned from shock to delight, “It is you! Oh my goodness—at first I thought, ‘there’s no way that’s him.’ Wow this is crazy. Hi!”

Bob was at a loss for words. The Olympian he met a year ago, who he could not stop thinking about since, was in front of him. “O-oh wow, hi,” he stuttered out, mentally cursing at how he sounded. “Wow, I was not expecting this to happen when I woke up this morning.”

“Same too,” Y/n chuckled, “How are you? Are you.. are you stationed here?” It hit the gymnast that it was mentioned at one point during their interaction he was in the Navy. Noticing the single silver bar, she was able to point out he was a Lieutenant Junior Grade. And judging by his flight suit, he was either a pilot, WSO, or RIO. “You’re a pilot?”

“Weapons system officer,” he politely corrects. “And yeah uh I just got here about a month ago.” Pink appears on his cheeks, “I would ask what you’re doing here….but I sorta already know you’re from here. My sister—Daisy, if you remember her—made her jealousy to me quite clear when I told my family I got orders here. But I promise I‘m not some stalker and was hoping to run into you again—quite frankly I’m shocked it happened here on base of places.”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his embarrassment. “Don’t worry I wouldn’t have thought you to be,” she takes the seat opposite of him, Bob closing his laptop before moving it away to make room on the surface. “Yeah, my dad actually works in the civilian division—he used to be in the Navy back in the 90s. I don’t come on base often, but I had the morning off and my car is in the shop. I’m just waiting for it to finish before heading to the gym.”

“Congratulations by the way,” Bob said with a smile, “on your wins last summer. I caught some of the Team competition, you guys were amazing. Then Daisy had me sit with her to watch the bars and beam final. She was really happy you won—I am too.”

“Thank you,” she grins, “I’m glad I didn’t let you guys down. How is Daisy by the way? Still doing gymnastics?” They fell into a conversation with Bob giving an update on his sister. Before long they were asking each other questions and telling stories about their travels.

Bob also explained that he doesn’t have social media, not really finding it to be his scene. “I do, however, as embarrassing as it is to say aloud, show off the photos when people like to brag about celebrities or athletes they’ve met. They never believe me at first, so it does bring satisfaction to prove them wrong.”

It felt so natural to talk to Bob, and those butterflies Y/n felt a year ago were starting to resurface. This time when she had to leave Y/n made sure to get his number. His surprise was evident, not expecting the request but nonetheless gave it to her.

It was the start of their love story.

Texting occurred almost every night. Then a coffee date turned into dinner and soon Y/n was leaving practice in a hurry to meet up with Bob. It would be at 7 in the evening and Y/n would be exhausted by the time she got into bed, but every second was worth it as the crush on Bob started to progress. They’d go to the beach, check out a new movie, have picnics, and would spend every free moment together. At one point Y/n’s coaches became concerned, especially when the the week Bob was TDY’d her routines were shakier than usual. They were not opposed to her having relationships. Y/n’s entire career she was single save for a few flings—especially in 2016 when she hooked up with an Olympic swimmer from Germany… then a Brazilian soccer player after the closing ceremonies.

They just wanted her to be careful. She was an athlete with a career that took up so many hours of her life she barely had time to do other things. Y/n was looking to be the first gymnast since Dominique Dawes to make the Olympic team for a third consecutive Games. The All-Around was her goal, on top of defending her title on bars and beam. Her coaches didn’t want her giving up all she had worked for if she wasn’t 100% sure of her feelings for Bob.

Y/n was young. She wanted to have fun and make those lifelong bonds. Romance may have not been the priority her entire life, but she desired the day she’d meet a nice person who’d treat her right—who would one day love and she’d love them. Bob was slowly becoming that person she saw a future with. The sweet WSO with gorgeous blue eyes and a kind smile. Who would blush when she flirted with him and bring water bottles and snacks to the gym to make sure she was hydrated and fed. Who’d send her gymnastics memes just to make her laugh—especially the ones with the screenshot of her reaction when a gymnast at a World’s had yelled at a judge because of a score. Who would stick around when she trained—amazement in his gaze at everything she did. He’d ask questions about the sport, wanting to know everything about it because it was her life and passion. When she asked questions, Bob would go into detail and share knowledge about aviation with her. Hearing him be so passionate about his job made Y/n admire him immensely. After weeks of the phone calls, texts, dates, Y/n accepted something she had been scared to say aloud.

Bob was her dream person.

Their first kiss took place four months after reuniting in front of her gym. That same moment Bob finally got the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend, which she wholeheartedly accepted. Once it was official her coaches noticed improvement on her routines that had started to slack. She managed to hide Bob from the media, not confirming the relationship publicly until after their one year. Well…..Y/n confirmed she was in a relationship with a mirror photo of her in Bob’s lap and his back to the mirror so the camera wouldn’t capture his face. They’d had a discussion prior with Y/n raising concerns about him getting possible media attention. Bob had a job that may require top secret missions and to protect him from security clearance issues they both agreed to keep his identity secret.

Y/n made sure though Bob never felt like he was being hidden. She would post snap stories of their interlaced hands, his face tucked in her neck when cuddling, or the back of his head with flirty captions. Bob couldn’t go to every competition of hers, but when he did he was her biggest supporter. His sister was overjoyed to hear the news Bob had met Y/n again, Daisy literally screaming when he drops the bomb Y/n was his girlfriend.

He did, however, expose himself and their relationship in 2019–a complete accident. At the World Championships in Germany, Y/n was the reigning 2018 gold medalist on the beam—her first beam gold since 2013. After winning silver in the All-Around for the fourth time and claiming her seventh consecutive bars title at the competition, her world nearly came to an end when her foot slipped during her tumbling pass in the beam final.

Searing pain shot through her knee, the gymnast falling awkwardly on the mat causing gasps to ring out. A pained groan escaped her followed by a shriek when shifting her leg. “Oh no,” she mumbled, alarms ringing in her head at what area had just been injured. All the agony was in her knee, where the ACL was located…..

Tears sprung in her eyes as her coach and medics swarmed her. “Where does it hurt?”

“My knee,” she hissed, “shit, it’s my knee.” In her head she was screaming, ‘please don’t be the ACL. Please don’t be the ACL.’ They hauled her off the mat, the judges, spectators, and her fellow competitors all looking on with worry. An ambulance was pulled up, rushing the gymnast to the hospital where she was met with the worst news she could get; her ACL was torn and she needed emergency surgery asap. Everything that followed was a blur. All she could remember next was waking up and her coaches were by her bed. They both wore the same expression as Y/n; heartbroken.

7-9 months was the recovery period for an ACL tear. It was currently the middle of October with the trials 9 months away. Was it possibly for Y/n to get back into training and do the trials after only a month post recovery? Ideally. Was it wise? Absolutely not. They usually recommend a full year before deep diving back into a sport with an injury like that. Muscle memory after so many years of gymnastics would be Y/n’s advantage, but she’d be shaky coming into the competition, unlikely to hit her routines like she usually did. Making the Tokyo team would not happen.

Y/n pretty much cried herself to sleep. Her dreams of the Olympic All-Around and a third Games were gone. It depressed her to even think of what sportscenter was saying. When she awoke she had dozens of missed calls from teammates, friends, her parents, and Bob. She dialed Bob immediately, sobbing into the receiver when he answered with a relieved breath, “Baby.” Hearing her in hysterics had Bob nearly book a flight to Germany right there, “I’m coming to get you.”

“No!” Y/n shouted, starting to calm down. “You can’t—you’ve got that detachment. Don’t worry about me.” The same week Y/n was in Germany, Bob was returning to Top Gun for a special detachment he had little details to. He was hesitant to go with her World's so close, but Y/n insisted saying she’d be fine. If the Navy was calling him back it had to have been important.

“Don’t tell me not to worry, Y/n,” he tells her, trying to be calm but worry was laced in his tone. “I watched you fall and not get up. Had it not been for Mike calling me to let me know you were in surgery I would’ve been on the next flight out to Stuggart. And you need me right now.”

“The Navy needs you right now, Bobby. You can’t just waltz out of there—you could literally be court martialed for it,” he was beginning to protest, so Y/n changed the route. “Look, I’m going to be discharged in two days. Instead of flying home I’ll come to you and rent a beach house or something for the remainder of your assignment. How’s that sound?” After several minutes of going back and forth—with Y/n convincing her boyfriend to not risk losing his job—Bob finally relented.

They said their ‘I love you’s’ and goodbyes with Y/n promising to keep him updated on her condition and flight status, they hung up so she could get much needed rest. Unbeknownst to the gymnast, Bob wasn’t alone when she had called him.

During the live feed of the competition, Bob was in the lounge watching it unfold. There was a 9 hour difference between California and Germany, so it was the middle of the afternoon when Y/n was set to compete in the beam final. He had hooked up his laptop to the TV to stream the event since he and the other pilots were on lunch break. It probably was a bad idea, confirmed by the confused and amused looks he received from the squad, but Bob never missed Y/n’s meets even if he couldn’t physically attend.

“Since when did you like gymnastics, baby on board?” Hangman snickered. “Did you do it as a kid?”

Bob glared, turning the volume higher when the screen popped up. “My sister does. She’s who got me into it,” it wasn’t a complete lie. Daisy did introduce Bob to the sport, but it was Y/n who made him more invested. With the two combined giving him knowledge, the aviator knew everything there was. “I took her to watch the Olympic team trials in 2016 for her birthday.”

Phoenix gave an impressed look, moving to sit on the couch. “That was very thoughtful. Did you guys get lucky and meet anyone?”

Bob debated saying, but he opened the door by mentioning it so he bit back a grin and nodded. “Yeah we did. We met her favorite gymnast—it was an amazing moment.”

“Who?” Rooster asked, taking a seat on a stool. Right as he did, Y/n appeared on the screen. Now Bob couldn’t hide his smile, nodding to the TV, “her.”

All heads snapped to the screen, followed by shocked looks and some saying, ‘no way.’ ‘You’re lying.’ ‘That’s literally one of the best gymnasts ever.’ ‘I’d go as far as to call her one of the greatest athletes ever—up there with Simone Biles, Micheal Phelps, and Micheal Jordan.’

Coyote whistled under his breath, the screen showing Y/n’s career statistics. “You’re telling us—if we’re hearing you correctly, you met Y/n fucking L/n? Like actually got to speak and see her up close? I gotta see some proof, Floyd.” Sounds of agreement echoed, causing Bob to blush and take out his phone. He hid the screen away so no one could see his lock screen of Y/n and scrolled through his gallery to find the picture. The one with her and Daisy was pulled up first. “That’s her and my sister after running into her on our way out.”

Phoenix, who was sitting next to him, snatches the phone. The others come around her, all with matching expressions. “Yo, that’s fire.” “That’s so cool.” “What about you, Bob?” He tells Nat to swipe right a few times. She does and they see the selfies of Y/n and Daisy before landing on the one of Bob. “Well I’ll be damned.” “Holy shit that’s amazing.” Then Nat gets to the kiss on the cheek. “Okay, Bob!” Payback claps his back, while Hangman says, “I’m a little jealous, Bob. How’d you convince her to do that?”

“I didn’t. She offered.” Jake scoffs, not believing the WSO. Bob takes the phone before Nat could find the photos of him and Y/n when they started dating. Everyone took their seats, having nothing else to do and decided to watch the meet with him.

“Yo she’s amazing,” Nat said in awe. The screen was showing footage from the 2018 World’s and even some of the 2016 Olympics. Nat was familiar with the renowned gymnast, having tuned in to watch the Games whenever they would come on. The pilot had dabbled in the sport in her young age, but grew out of it to pursue other aspirations. She did continue to lightly follow the careers of the gymnasts she admired, and Y/n was one of them.

“She is,” Bob said in a voice Nat couldn’t describe. It was almost like it was loving. When she faced him, she saw the face of a man in love. Watching his behavior, the pilot picked up signs that he was trying to not let certain things show. Like he was hiding something. Immediately Nat was filled with suspicion—which only grew when the title card beneath Y/n’s image read: Y/n L/n—2012 & 2016 Olympic Champion, 2018 Gold Medalist: Balance Beam Age: 23 Hometown: Lemoore, CA, USA

They all gasped when Y/n fell, wincing at her leg twisting in a nasty angle. Bob leaped from his seat, hands in his hair and eyes full of horror. “Oh my God. Shit, shit, shit.” He sat back down, muttering so low Nat could barely make out, “C’mon, Y/n. Get up. Get up, baby.” She had to hold in her own reaction at the pet name directed at one of the best gymnasts in the world. ‘No fucking way I just heard that.’

Together they witnessed the athlete hauled off the mat, pain coating their entire being. It appeared she was saying, “My knee. It’s my knee.” Payback whistled, shaking his head, “That’s not good. She could’ve easily tore her ACL right there. Shit, that’s literally a career ending injury.” He should know, playing football all through high school and college, Ruben was accustomed to seeing it happen regularly.

No one besides Phoenix picked up on the fact Bob was internally losing his mind. Phone in his hand, he looked like he was wanting to make a call, but couldn’t at that moment. Then he kept tapping it to check for messages that were not coming. Nat wanted to ask what was up, but he was in no state to talk.

Soon their break ended and the competition continued. With shaky hands Bob packed up his laptop and hdmi cord. The tv was switched off and the others left the lounge to get ready for afternoon training. Nat stood at the door waiting for him, expecting Bob to be behind her when she heard his frantic voice. “Mike.” Nat turned to find her WSO speaking into his phone, back turned from her. He was speaking in a hushed voice, but the quiet atmosphere carried his voice. “How is she? Where are you guys at?” There was a pause, the person on the opposite end talking. Bob let out a sigh of relief, hand going to the bridge of his nose. “How long will it take before she’s fully healed?……9 months?—but that’ll be May she’s—….….that’s gonna put her out of the trials……fuck,” water lined his eyes. Bob’s heart was breaking for his girlfriend.

Behind him Nat was in a state of disbelief. Everything Bob said confirmed her suspicions.

He was dating Y/n L/n.

“Okay,” he sniffed, “Thanks for telling me, Mike, I really really appreciate it. When do you think she’ll be discharged?…Okay…..Um, just keep me updated and have her call me when she wakes up. I’ll see you soon…okay, bye.” Bob hangs up, placing the phone in his pocket and freezing when he sees he wasn’t alone. His face goes pale, “N-nat. Shit. U-uh how..how much did you hear.”

Her expression is sympathetic. “Enough.” Bob’s shoulders slump at the answer. “I won’t tell anyone,” she promises, tone apologetic, “I can tell no one was supposed to find out. I’m really sorry for not saying something—I was waiting for you and …well I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Distressed, Bob tries to make a joke but it comes out choked, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Checking the time he saw they were about to be late, “We better get going. I-I’ll answer any questions you have later, but please Nat don’t say anything. We—,” he was referring to him and Y/n, “we didn’t want me to be associated with her publicly yet because of this job-in case it compromised me. Only our families and her coaches know we’re together.”

“I promise,” Nat gave her word. “Your secret is safe with me, Bob.”

After training, Bob and Nat met up in the same lounge and basically told her his entire love story with Y/n. Nat couldn’t help but feel so happy for her backseater, seeing the love for Y/n radiate off him. The pilot hoped she’d get the chance to meet her one day. When Bob told Nat of Y/n’s condition, the woman became saddened—silently praying Y/n would have a speedy recovery. Just the way Bob explained it was enough for Phoenix to gather Y/n’s dream of the Tokyo Olympics were over.

It was during their conversation Y/n finally called Bob, the WSO rushing to answer it. Nat stayed silent, waiting patiently though she did raise her brows when he suggested leaving Fightertown. Whatever Y/n was saying must’ve talked some sense into him. After he hung up Nat asked, “Why didn’t you tell her that I know—.”

“I’ll tell her when she gets here,” Bob gently cut her off. “She sounded exhausted and I can tell she’s heartbroken.” His head dropped slightly. “This was her last shot at making the All-Around next year if she qualified. It’s everything to her, Nat—and her injury is gonna put her out of the VISA championships and then it'll be too close for her to even rehabilitate it in time for the trials.” Bob felt his eyes water, a tear threatening to escape. It was a loss for him. Together he shared Y/n’s dreams and aspirations. All he wanted was for them to come true after she’s dedicated years of her life for one moment. It hurt him to know it wouldn’t happen.

“I don’t want to upset her any further than she already is,” he said after a moment. “Wednesday night she’ll land at SAN with her coaches, and I’ll explain to her then—she and I had already discussed introducing each other to our friends, wanting to wait after I finished here, so I’m sure she’s not going to be mad just…surprised.”

Wednesday night Bob raced to the address Y/n sent him. It was a duplex beach house Airbnb so her coaches settled on one side and Y/n on the other. On crutches, Bob was careful when he took her into his arms. After several minutes of consoling Y/n, both grieving the loss of the Tokyo Games, Bob told the gymnast about Nat.

She wasn’t upset, in fact she felt a light weight off her shoulder. It felt nice to have someone other than their families knowing——like they weren’t harboring a dirty secret. Then when the two met the next day, Y/n was instantly drawn to the aviator. They talked for hours, with Nat offering condolences to the gymnast. It was an instant click for the Olympian and pilot, both bonding over dedicating years of their life to their dreams and making them happen. Not to mention Nat was a gymnast at one point so they talked about the sport a bit with Y/n answering questions the woman had.

Y/n didn’t meet the rest of the detachment until after Bob returned from the Uranium mission. When he got picked it was a tearful goodbye the night before he was set to leave. Bob couldn’t go into much detail, but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it either. He was honest about the seriousness of the mission, which had the Olympian scared to death.

“Promise you’ll come back to me,” she sniffed, head laid on Bob’s chest as they laid on the bed. He was cradling her, running fingers through her hair in comfort. Pressing a kiss to her forehead he whispered, “I promise, baby. I’ll be back before you know it. And together we will get through this—I’ll be there every step of the way,” before kissing her lips.

Neither no longer cared about hiding the relationship when Bob called her days later to say the mission was a success. Y/n was at the docks when the ship returned, on crutches and limping to him as she spotted him.

“Guys…..” Fanboy trailed off, catching the attention of his fellow pilots. “Did I go into G-Loc, or am I right when I say I see Bob kissing that gymnast we were watching with him the other week?” Everyone minus Phoenix jaws dropped.

“What the fuck?” “So he just casually decided to leave out that day Y/n L/n is his girlfriend?” “What a guy—my man pulled an Olympian.”

Hangman let out a whistle, “Whatever game Baby on board has I want some of it.”

The next year and a half was a nutshell. The dagger squad became a little family with Y/n calling them some of her best friends. They were her cheerleaders during her recovery, motivating her to get back into training—for months she was unsure if it was worth it.

It was an emotional moment when she finally did decide. It was March 2020, the world was in a crisis. And it was likely to be announced that the Olympic Games would not take place that year. Instead, they would commence in 2021, giving Y/n a whole year to prepare. There were still stories being written about her—commentators counting down the days she would announce her retirement. Opinions of her supporters were mixed, some hoping she’d come back while others didn’t believe Y/n had it in her to go for a third Olympic team. Every comment, every opinion, every expectation, was starting to take a toll on the gymnast. The confidence was slipping.

Bob had cupped her face in his hands, tears streaming down her cheeks as he said with absolute love in his voice, “Look at me. You are the most dedicated, hardworking, driven and inspiring person I’ve ever met. Screw what everyone is saying—You are one of the greatest gymnasts to exist. The best there ever is on the uneven bars. Baby you’ve made history. And anything you set your mind to can be done. You did in 2016, when everyone thought it wasn’t possible, and you can do it again, Y/n. You can make this team. You can get to the All-Around. You can get the gold. I believe in you, your supporters believe in you, your parents, your coaches. We all believe you can do it. You have to believe in yourself, Y/n. Tokyo is in your grasp, you just have to take it.”

Everyday during lockdown Y/n was in the gym with only her coaches and sometimes Bob. Classes & training for gymnasts were put on hiatus until the end of summer. From 6am to 11am and 1pm to sometimes 9pm Y/n was nonstop running routines and conditioning until the sweat dripped from her forehead and her body ached. At least once a week she’d end practice just crying to feel a release of stress. Her ACL was healed, her personal trainer focusing on getting the muscle back into competitive ability. They were taking it day by day. The last thing they needed was to be back at square one.

Some days were hard. Those were the ones that had Y/n questioning everything. But with Bob and her support system by her side, Y/n was determined. It was a long and harsh battle with many obstacles, but it was all worth it when Y/n’s was one of fifteen gymnasts competing at the U.S Olympic Team Trials in June 2021. One year after a global pandemic shut down the world and pushed back the world’s sporting greatest stage, Y/n was back again at the place that started it all. The only difference now was she was older, a highly decorated athlete…..and a married woman.

Bob had popped the question on their three-year anniversary, the two officially tying the knot at the beginning of 2021 before a small group of close friends and family. Coming into the trials, her name on the roster and title card for commentators now read Y/n L/n-Floyd, but most people still referred to her as just Y/n L/n. Her ring was often tucked away in her bag or worn around Bob’s neck whenever she competed. It sucked to not wear it, but the only jewelry allowed in competition were simple stud earrings.

He wasn’t alone in the stands. With him were not only Y/n’s parents and coach Mary Taylor, but his parents, Daisy, and the dagger squad. It was quite the sight when Y/n was performing. They were the loudest in their section, sitting between the bars and floor to get a good view of the whole arena. What made it more amusing, was the cameraman loved to capture their reactions.

“Y/n L/n, the ‘Queen of the Uneven Bars’—or should I say Y/n L/n-Floyd now, the two-time Olympian got married to her longtime boyfriend, naval aviator, Lieutenant Robert Floyd this past January—is set to go on bars in the second rotation of today’s trials. It’s a full circle moment for husband and wife. The two met five years ago at the 2016 U.S team trials for the Rio de Janeiro Games. Then nearly one year later they ran into each other in her hometown of Lemoore. Lemoore is the home of Naval Air Station Lemoore where Robert became stationed at, and the two hit it off. They kept the relationship hidden for a year but Robert’s identity was discreet until roughly the beginning of 2020 when they officially went public.”

“It’s so surreal to think we’ve pretty much watched Y/n grow up. She was 14 when we first met her in 2010 on the junior national team, going on to become a two-time Olympian with the most gold medals of any American gymnast. Now she’s a grown woman and married—the trials have been the sight of big milestones for the athlete. She met her future husband here and accomplished a lifelong dream twice. This past January the two got married, and Y/n has said her husband has been her #1 motivator on her journey back into gymnastics after the injury that could have very well been career ending……oh! It looks like Y/n’s got the green light from the judge, and we’re gonna switch our coverage now to a split screen—we got a mic on Robert Floyd, let’s hear how he reacts to this routine.” For anyone watching at home, their screen showed Y/n saluting the judge on one side, and Bob rubbing his hands on the other.

He sat between Nat and Rooster, his and Y/n’s families right behind them. Fanboy, Payback, Hangman, and Coyote were placed beside Nat and Rooster, leaving Bob directly in the middle of their entire group. They all cheered when the announcer introduced the gymnast—the crowd around them louder than ever, “On the uneven bars, from Taylor’s Elite Gymnastics in Lemoore, California, Y/n L/n!” All were on the edge of their seats as Y/n began the routine. With a microphone attached to his shirt, viewers of the live feed got to hear them up close and personal. Especially Bob.

“C’mon, Y/n. C’mon. Nice….steady now, don’t rush it…..good good,” Bob held his breath on her big release combo, practically leaning into Rooster. “Yeah! Okay now hit those handstands…..perfect. C’mon, Y/n, you got this. Don’t think just do,” he clapped his hands, now leaning more toward Nat. “You own this dismount, Y/n, show ‘em how it’s done. Let’s go. Stick it—stick it!” Rooster held his shoulder, Bob doing the same to him, both hovering over their seats. When Y/n stuck the landing they all launched up, “YEAHHHH!!!!”

It was absolutely dreamlike when at the end of day two, Y/n’s name was called among the three other gymnasts selected to represent Team USA at the Tokyo Olympics. Never had she reacted the way she did at previous trials. A scream had actually escaped her, “OH MY GOD!”

Mike rushed to embrace her and the two jumped up and down while crying. At the end of her floor routine, Y/n was standing at #3 in the ranks… but unlike in the 90s where whoever took the top positions in the standings were the ones selected, only the top gymnast overall was automatically part of the team. The other spots would be determined by several members of the board. One could be in the top five, but not be selected because someone was stronger in certain apparatus that they were confident would bring a medal. It was how Y/n made it to London. She was ranked #6 out of 15 when the London team trials had finished. Her vaults and floor were weak but it was the fact she was a world champion on bars with very valued bars and beam routines that had the selection committee choose her.

Now 9 years later, Yn had the most difficult bars routine in the whole damn world, a high valued beam routine and even a high valued, very difficult, vault named after her. But her floor was still weak, with a start value of 4.9. If she were to mess up on all the other events horribly, one mistake on floor would cost her medal contention. Her fate was up to the committee once again.

The entire section with her friends and family exploded when the team selections were announced by none other than USA gymnastics hall of famer and member of the 1996 Magnificent Seven, Shannon Miller. Bob jumped from his seat, as did the squad with Y/n’s mother collapsing into her fathers arms. Mary was in hysterics, Daisy screaming at the top of her lungs, and the dagger squad just going crazy. As Y/n ran up the stairs onto the floor to wave to the crowd, the guys were whistling and hollering, meanwhile Bob and Nat were wiping away tears. Bob was an actual mess, not caring to show his emotion. He was absolutely over the moon.

Y/n was going to Tokyo.

“Well there you have it folks. Your Tokyo Olympics women’s U.S gymnastics team. A combination of new and old faces: Jordan Chiles and Sunisa Lee making their Olympic debut, with veterans Simone Biles and Y/n L/n returning to the stage again. The defending All-Around champion aiming to make history as the first American to win the title in back-to-back Games, and the first gymnast since Dominique Dawes to qualify for a third consecutive Olympic team. An exciting Games is ahead of us. Simone Biles, the greatest of all time, looking to repeat her Rio glory. And Y/n L/n, the queen of the uneven bars, could very well become the first gymnast in history to win the gold three times in a row in the individual event finals.

After the celebration, Y/n ran past security to climb up the railing where her loved ones were seated. Bob took the bouquet of flowers she was holding, passing it to Nat before hauling Y/n over the railing. Everyone around her cheered, whistled and beamed at the sight of husband and wife.

“You did it,” Bob praised, tone filled with emotion. The gymnast was crying into his neck. “I knew you could do it, Y/n. I’m so fucking proud of you—you were incredible, darlin’. Beyond incredible.”

Unfortunately, unlike the trials Bob and the team plus their families would not be able to travel with Y/n to Tokyo. Strict regulations were in place for the Games, with only coaches and athletes permitted to attend. No spectators would be allowed in arenas except for the media, volunteers, and medics. Bob kissed Y/n passionately when he dropped her off at the airport.

“I wish you could come with me,” she mumbled with teary eyes, Bob caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, baby,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I hate that I can’t be there with you. But remember, I’m gonna be cheering you on from here every second you’re on that mat and even after you’ve stepped off. I’ll be up every morning to watch it live—yes I know that’ll be three in the morning but I don’t care. I’m watching every minute. Before you know it, that gold medal will be in your hands and you’ll be coming home an Olympic champion.”

Y/n nuzzled her face in Bob’s neck, tightening her arms around him. They remained that way until she had to check into TSA. It was a tearful goodbye, the two kissing one last time saying, “I love you,” and Y/n promising to call him when she lands. He watched her go, blowing a kiss to her when she got to the end of the line and was out of his sight. Bob would’ve left the airport, but Phoenix and Rooster would be landing within the next hour so he ended up waiting for them. Payback, Fanboy, Hangman and Coyote would be coming in either that night or the next morning. Maverick was even planning to travel to Lemoore, driving up from San Diego Friday night to make it time for opening ceremonies.

Like previous Games Y/n and the gymnasts were not at the opening ceremonies. Unfortunately it was always like that because gymnastics took place the first week of the Olympics with podium training in the days leading up to the opening ceremonies. The night after the celebration of the Games beginning were qualifications and therefore the gymnasts were in bed early to get a good night's rest before competition. It saddened Y/n a bit to be missing her last opening ceremonies, but she looked forward to the closing in two weeks—there was already talk she would be chosen as the USA’s closing flag bearer.

When comparing her nerves coming into qualifications, Y/n would rank it higher than in London and Rio combined. This was it. This was the moment she had been working her ass off the last year for. When everyone thought she would be retired, here she was. Back on the Olympic stage for one last shot at making the All-Around finals.

She could not mess up, not again. Four years and the floor routine still haunted her. It was her weakest event. She needed to hit every skill, stay in bounds, and remain focused.

But she also had a job to do, and that was to do her part on the team and get them to the final. She was captain. The other girls looked to her for advice and support as it was difficult without friends and family in the arena. Only Mike Taylor, Y/n’s lifelong coach, was with them during the qualifications and would be for the finals. During the event finals, for whoever qualified, they would have their personal coach with them. Mental health was a big priority in these Games, and Y/n made it her mission to have a one-on-one with everyone before each competition. This was a sport where one had to be at their best mental state. If not, it could lead to mistakes and injuries—-they’d been so many gymnasts over the decades who got career ending injuries, became paralyzed, and even died because they were not mentally or physically in shape. She be damned if she allowed one of her girls to get on the mat when she knows something was wrong.

As the #1 team in the world coming in after the 2019 World Championships, USA was to start their Olympics once again on the vault. Every Olympic Games was different in some way. In London and Rio the teams were a five-woman squad, but in Tokyo they were four. The Code of Points had changed again following Rio, an example was the Amânar now held a start value of 5.8. Back when Y/n was in London, it was 6.5 before dropping to 6.3 in Rio.

The triple twisting Yurchenko, named the L/n, held a start value of 6.4 along with the Produnova. Y/n was the only one attempting her own vault in the qualifications, but it was decided she would do the Amânar in the final. It was the safer option.

It was an odd feeling saluting the judge without the full audience of spectators. The only sounds that could be heard were the other girls cheering from the side. Like every routine she did her ritual: two licks to each thumb, a single clap and a deep breath. Y/n didn’t think as she hauled ass down the runway, just let her body do the work. Trusting it wouldn’t let her down.

That was all she thought of the entire competition. Trusting her body that put blood, sweat, and tears for one moment in time. She knew Bob and their families were watching from home, motivating her even more to not let them down. Picturing them in the stands pushed her to give it her all each rotation.

And if fucking paid off.

When her eyes landed on the board following the end of rotation four, Y/n spun around, eyes shutting as she screamed before sinking to her knees. Mike shouted in excitement, literally running down the side and pumping his fist in the air. The cameraman chased after him, before closing in on Y/n as she cried into her hands. Qualifications were done, the results were in.

Y/n was through to the Women's All-Around Final. Her name was beside the #2 ranking beneath Simone.

“Wow, wow, wow. Redemption has been earned for Y/n L/n of the United States. Look at that reaction, the gold medalist is on the ground—overcome with emotion no doubt. Two years ago her dreams of these Games were nearly shattered when she tore her ACL at the 2019 World Championships. It would’ve put her out of the trials, but the Covid-19 pandemic pushed the Olympics back one year giving the athlete time to fully recover and train for this moment right here. She must be over the moon—her teammates are coming around to congratulate her and Simone Biles. Coach Mike Taylor is absolute joy— *chuckles*—I think he’s even more excited than Y/n honestly. Four years ago Y/n was the #3 overall ranking in the All-Around qualifications, but due to the two-per-country rule she was pushed out of contention —Aly Raisman going on to take the silver medal next to Simone Biles. Not here in Tokyo.”

“Unfortunately for Suni Lee and Jade Carey they will not get the chance at All-Around gold despite being in the top 10 overall—as the two-per-country rule we know pushes them out. Their Tokyo Games will not be over, however, Lee has qualified for the individual beam and bars final, Carey on the floor exercise. Along with the All-Around, Simone Biles has qualified for individual beam, floor, and vault. And it’s uneven bars again for Y/n L/n. Unfortunately she will not get the chance at a third gold for the balance beam, but I feel she’s okay with that. For the first time the three-time Olympian, four-time World All-Around silver medalist will get to compete Thursday night in the Olympic All-Around event for women’s artistic gymnastics. And Simone Biles will be going for the gold once again.”

Back home in Lemoore the scene was insane. It was pushing 3 am, the sun not even out yet, but the friends, families, and former teammates of Y/n had gathered in Taylor’s Elite Gymnastics to watch the live coverage of Team USA’s qualification round. Y/n’s dad was kind enough to bring his 70 inch flat screen TV to hook up right next to the floor. There was a coffee bar set out, some breakfast food and tucked away were bottles of champagne for if celebrations were in order. It was mostly adults watching the qualifications, save for Bob’s sister Daisy, however it was expected for the final competitions that residents and their children would come out to watch the coverage.

When the competition ended the screen was focused on Y/n the moment it captured her reaction. Everyone was at first worried but then the title card appeared: #2– L/N-FLOYD, Y/n (USA) Overall Total: 57.491

Everyone went wild, Bob nearly falling from his chair while the guys all jumped up and down, “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!!!” “SHE DID IT!!” “OH MY GOD!!” Y/n’s mom and coach Mary collapsed in each other’s arms while her dad celebrated with Bob and his dad. Daisy was crying, overwhelmed with happiness for her sister-in-law and idol. Y/n’s former teammates from her years on the national team were also in tears. Her sweet husband Bob had his face in his hands, consumed with emotion while his friends all patted his back and celebrated around him. The love of his life had fulfilled her dream. She was going to the All-Around competition for the first time in her final Olympic Games.

But before that could happen they had the team final. Team USA were #2 coming into the competition, just short of the ROC by a couple points after a few errors during the qualifications. Three gymnasts of the four would compete, all three scores counting to the overall. Just like in Rio the captain kicked off the USA on vault, bringing in a score of 14.328 after taking a big hop on the landing. Jordan came through with their highest at 14.666, and then Simone had a huge error when she not only squated, but went forward in a huge step, receiving a 13.766. Her expression was enough for Y/n and the team to see she was not doing good, the captain and coach bringing her over for a one-on-one talk while they waited for the first rotation to end.

In the end, Simone made the wise decision to withdraw from the competition. Safety and her mental well being were the priority. After errors in the qualifications it was the concern of everyone how she was and they were grateful nothing disastrous had taken place. Performing when you're not at your best was dangerous, it was the right decision for Simone to pull out to prevent from hurting herself.

The team all supported the Olympian, giving hugs and promises to get the job done on her behalf. They were going to bring their A-game these last three rotations and hopefully bring a medal regardless of the color.

It was a silver lining moment for Team USA. After a good run on bars Y/n nearly fell off the beam—catching herself in an amazing save without touching the apparatus but enough to throw her off the rest of the routine. It was the lowest score she’d ever received on beam in an Olympics at 14.096 from a start value of 6.1. Then on floor Jordan stepped out of bounds and fell on her third pass resulting in a 11.700. Their total overall was 166.096, the ROC at 169.528.

Despite what commentators were saying, Y/n was not totally heartbroken by the loss. Of course she was for Jordan and Suni not being able to call themselves gold medalists, but she was so proud of them. They had a huge weight on their shoulders by having to do more than what they expected. Jordan competed in every event and Suni had to do floor when she planned only for bars and beam. They’d given it their all and still brought the pressure, making the USA the #2 team in the world. A damn huge accomplishment.

It was a bittersweet moment on the podium. Y/n was now the first American gymnast since Dominique Dawes to medal in three consecutive Olympics. It was odd having to medal themselves due to covid regulations, whereas they would’ve been presented and medaled by members of the IOC and President of the International Gymnastics Committee. They took pictures with the gold and bronze teams before post-podium ceremony interviews. Y/n was pulled over by a reporter she’d recognized since the London Games, a barrier separating them, “Hi! Oh my goodness it’s you again!”

The reporter was just as excited, “Hello, Y/n! Lovely to see you again in these Olympic Games—your third and final, gosh I already know it’s going to be a sad loss to the sport when this competition concludes.” Y/n has to place a hand on her chest to keep it together, heart slightly breaking. “You’ve now added a silver medal to your Olympic collection and you got two more events ahead of you—including the All-Around competition. What’s going through your mind right now?”

Y/n let’s out a shaky breath under her mask, “Well, it’s definitely hard to put into words. I’m so proud of the girls tonight—they gave it their best with what was handed to them. I’m so proud of Simone especially, taking a step back is a very hard thing to do when you got a gold medal on the line for a team competition, but one has to do what is best for them—and I’m so happy she did put herself first. This is a sport where it’s dangerous to not be at your best mental state. She’s got my full support on whatever she plans to do regarding the other events she’s qualified for, and I hope people watching at home can respect her decision as well.” The athlete pauses before commenting on the All-Around.

“The All-Around…..I’m just beyond words. This was something I have spent my entire career training for. London I didn’t even do the qualifications for it and then missed out by a small margin in Rio, so this is a really big accomplishment for me. I really thought this would never happen after the 2019 World Championships—I really was on the verge of retiring in 2020. It’s crazy to think that had these Games taken place when they should have, I would not be standing in front of you,” Y/n smiled beneath her mask, eyes crinkling, “My family and friends pretty much are the ones responsible for getting me here. My husband, Bob, has been my rock—pushing me to get out in the gym, knowing how much this moment would mean to me. My parents and coaches have been there since the beginning—I owe this all to them. I’m….I’m just so excited and honored to have this opportunity. It’s been a long and hard couple years so the fact it paid off is amazing.”

The reporter beams, “Well all your supporters feel the same and we will be cheering you on Thursday night as well as Sunday when you make your final Olympic appearance for the uneven bars final. Congratulations to you and the girls on winning the silver, and we’ll see you back here in the arena Thursday night.”

That night Y/n had a quick phone call with Bob, the aviator gushing to his wife of how proud he was of her. God how she wished he could be there with her. Cheering from the stands before hitting the streets of Tokyo to explore. Celebrating the win of the team silver medal and her All-Around qualification. Bob wished it too, but unfortunately a global virus had to ruin their experience. Still, Bob made his love and admiration for Y/n known and told her he’d be up at the ass crack of dawn to watch the All-Around live with their entire squad.

Thursday July 29th, 2021–Tokyo, Japan, 8:45 pm — 6:45 EST/ 3:45 am PST

Women’s Artistic Gymnastics All-Around Final

Rotation One: Vault

“Good morning folks at home, welcome back to our live coverage of the Women’s All-Around final in artistic gymnastics. We took a short break and now we’re wrapping up the warm up for rotation one. Americans Y/n L/n and Suni Lee, the #1 and 3 qualifiers after Simone Biles withdrew from the competition, are starting off their competition on the vault.” A thumbs up from Mike and Y/n was speeding down the runway for her final warmup. She did two twists purposefully catapulting backward to stop the momentum before landing and walking off the mat.

“I’ll tell ya, Andrea, we got quite the final ahead of us. Simone Biles, the reigning Olympic Champion in this event officially withdrew this morning, allowing Suni Lee to take her place. I know we’ve mentioned it several times already but this is the moment veteran Y/n L/n has waited for. She almost didn’t make it to these Games after an injury during the beam final at the World championships in 2019. Now she’ll be the last gymnast to go in the rotation, planning to perform the skill named after her—a triple twisting Yurchenko. Since unveiling it in 2015, Y/n has only ever performed it a handful of times—in team competitions she’s usually doing the popular Amânar. With this vault she does tend to take a hop on the landing, but pulls out a big score and that’s something she’s gonna want to get a good lead ahead of everyone else.”

The warm up ended and Y/n took a seat beside her bag doing what she normally did, keeping her eyes away from her competitors. She did cheer on Suni, and then it was her turn to go. Mike patted her shoulder, pep talk brief and Y/n was on the mat saluting the judge. Her heart was pumping, but she took a deep breath after her pre-routine ritual and sped down the runway. Next thing she knew she was spinning in the air, landing with her arms raised and muttering a ‘holy shit’.

“It’s now time for American Y/n L/n. 2015 World Champion in the vault and you’re about to see why. The fan favorite to win tonight—it’s been a long journey to get to this moment. She’s got the green light…..here we go—big, big vault—named after her and gave her a World title in 2015—triple twisting Yurchenko called the L/n……..AND SHE STICKS IT! Holy mackerel that was amazing!! Wonderful start for Y/n L/n—that is going to be a big score. Her chest was low which will be a slight deduction but wow that landing.”

What a landing indeed. Y/n was grinning wide, completely blown away she stuck the vault for the first time ever. Back home the entire gym was on their feet, the cheers becoming louder when the score came back a 15.902. That score alone would likely be the highest for vault in the whole competition, putting Y/n at a great lead at the end of rotation one. NBC had sent a news crew to attend the watch party, hoping to catch the reactions of Y/n’s friends and family during the duration of the meet.

Rotation Two: Uneven Bars

“Coming into the second rotation of this All-Around final, American Y/n L/n is at the top of the leaderboard with Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade not too far behind. Suni Lee is sitting in fourth, but that could very well change at the end of this event; the uneven bars.”

With a start value of 7.5, Y/n’s routine was the most difficult of any other gymnast. The Code of Points had changed the values of a lot of skills after Rio, just like it did with London, but Y/n still made sure to have the highest valued bar routine. This was her event. The one that brought her seven consecutive World titles, two Olympic gold medals, and named her the ‘Queen of the Uneven Bars.’ Even with a fall she could very well medal.

Placed in the middle of the lineup, Y/n waited roughly 15 minutes after warm up had ended to get on the mat. Saluting the judge she got straight to the routine, doing her ritual of course. It was a long routine but it seemed to go quickly. Y/n, however, was shaky and didn’t hit the handstands as great and slightly stumbled backward on the landing of her J-valued dismount. Each little step would be deductions, but at least she didn’t fall on her ass.

“16.200 for Y/n L/n. Not her best routine on the bars with that high of a start value—she didn’t hit the handstands like she usually did, but still a big score thanks to that start value of 7.5. She stumbled quite a bit on that landing, which no one can really blame her for. It's a very hard dismount—the one she created and got named after herself at the Games in Rio. She’ll likely still be in the lead following this the end of the rotation, but let’s not get too ahead of ourselves there’s still the beam and floor.”

Y/n was really feeling the pressure, slightly disappointed with her bars routine. It wasn’t her best at all, her qualification score higher than what she had just received. But the gymnast couldn’t let her head start doubting her now. Two events were left and one of them was her weakest, the other her second strongest.

Rotation Three: Balance Beam

With a start value of 6.1, Y/n and Suni both held the highest valued beam routines in the competition. The apparatus that Y/n had two Olympic gold medals and two World titles to had been given her trouble in Tokyo. She didn’t qualify for the beam final, stumbling on her landing and missing a turn which lessened her start value. Then in the team final she nearly lost footing and fell off, catching herself without touching the beam. Flashbacks to the 2019 World’s had flashed through her mind. It scared her shitless at the possibility of retearing her ACL. Which is probably what spooked Y/n and made her stumble.

Something in Y/n’s gut told her it was going to be the same here. Anxiety was starting to rise, the gymnast battling her inner thought to focus.

“As you can see Y/n L/n is deep in her thoughts, waiting for her turn on balance beam. I wouldn’t be surprised if she's thinking about Tuesday night’s team final or the 2019 World championships. This is the event that nearly ended her career, despite it being one of her strongest apparatuses—two Olympic and two Worlds gold medals for the gymnast in the past decade.”

Unfortunately, Y/n’s intuition was right and beam was a disaster. Not only did she take a fall, but her hand touched the apparatus as well. Both worth a whole point in deductions. The whole reason she touched it was to prevent the same thing from 2019 happening, not doing so would have likely destroyed her knee. Y/n tightened her lips, not showing a reaction and simply got back up.

Her heart was pounding, but she only had a few more jumps, a spin, and a back tuck before dismounting. When she did dismount another big deduction would come at the hop and step to catch herself. Now that her routine was over the gymnast couldn’t do anything besides exhale and let it go to prep for floor. Mike embraced her, mumbling words of encouragement and patting Y/n on the back. She didn’t look at the scoreboard and ignored the clicking of the photographers as she downed a water bottle. Suni came over and gave her a hug, Y/n smiling at wishing her luck on her routine.

“Gosh that was not good for Y/n L/n. Major deductions are to be expected from that routine. You know she had been having trouble on the balance beam the entire Games—even in podium training she wasn’t as sharp as she normally was. I can’t imagine what was running through her mind. It looked like it was the same skill that nearly ended her career two years ago, and she was trying to prevent her leg from twisting into the mat upon landing and that’s why she let her hands hit the beam to catch herself. Such an unfortunate mistake for the three-time Olympian…..and oof 12.331. That’s the lowest score I’ve ever seen from Y/n—not counting the 2019 Worlds.”

“Not sure if that’s gonna keep her lead at the end of this rotation, Allen. She had an amazing start on vault, did great on the bars, but the floor is her weakest. Her start value is the lowest compared to the other gymnasts at a 4.9–there’s no room for error going further in this event. Had Y/n pulled out a big score here on beam, the gold medal would’ve been hers without a doubt. Now we really have a competition going into the final rotation.”

It felt like the world had stopped for Bob when his wife fell off the beam. The feelings he had from 2019 resurfaced, literally making his hands shake. A sigh of relief escaped him when Y/n immediately got back up and finished the routine, but he could tell in her expression she was shaken. The gymnast was doing her best to not let it show how it was affecting her, but Bob knew her better than that.

“Goddamn, that was close,” Coyote shook his head, remembering the first time he watched Y/n on the beam. It was like deja vu. “What a hell of a save.”

“I think I almost shit my pants just now,” Rooster commented, causing Nat to give him a, ‘wtf,’ look, but then Bob voiced the same and she had to hold back from rolling her eyes—although deep down she nearly had a heart attack.

When the score came back a lot of people made sounds of distress. Bob was seen scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, pressing numbers on his phone calculator. After a moment he rubbed a hand over his face, “her total so far is 44.433.”

“How much does she need to win?” Fanboy asked him.

“We won’t know until everyone else has gone. Suni’s got a start value of 5.6 on floor, the Brazilian gymnast a 5.9. Y/n’s is low at 4.9. She can’t make a single mistake otherwise she could likely get out of medal contention.”

Rotation Four: Floor Exercise

The nerves were starting to become nauseating. As the #1 qualifier coming into the All-Around after Simone’s withdrawal, Y/n would be the final gymnast to compete. Floor exercise. The final event and Y/n’s weakest for as long as she could remember. She was a powerful tumbler, but had trouble controlling the power and often would fall, step out of bounds, or take big hops on landings.

“It is the final rotation in the Women’s All-Around Final at the Tokyo Olympic Games. The Americans, Suni Lee and Y/n L/n will be ending the competition on floor exercise. Boy it’s going to be interesting folks, after the third rotation on the balance beam Y/n is now in second position behind Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade and Suni Lee in third. Anything can happen now.”

It was a long wait.

The last of eight gymnasts to compete, Y/n paced on the floor back and forth to pass time and fight the battle in her head. She didn’t want to know her standings nor did she want to know how much she needed to win. When it came to be her turn, Y/n would go out there, perform the best she could, and wait for the judges to decide her fate. Even when there was a light gasp from the few spectators in the crowd when Rebeca Andrade was up, Y/n didn’t turn around.

Part of her wondered what Bob and their friends were thinking. They’d know what she needed before she did. All she could do was pray and trust her body to get the job done. Like she always did.

“Fuck,” Bob cursed, surprising many of his colleagues. His eyes were on the pencil scribbled numbers he had just written down on the notepad. “She needs higher than a 13 to win.” After Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade, the standings were as followed:

Suni Lee at #1 with an overall total of 57.433

Rebeca Andrade at #2 with an overall total of 57.298

And Angelina Melkinova of the ROC at #3 with an overall total of 57.199.

Regardless of the score Y/n pulls out, Suni and Rebeca were guaranteed a spot on the podium. What color? That was about to be determined.

“There was a slight delay in scoring for floor, vault had already completed their rotation, bars and beam finished up just a moment ago. Everyone’s focused on the gymnast about to do the last floor routine of her gymnastics career. All eyes on Y/n L/n.” With the camera panned on Y/n, the title card read: Needs at least a 13.001 to take the gold. The entire gym held their breath when the at the sound of a beep, signaling the beginning of her floor music.

Moment of truth for the three-time Olympic gymnast. It would all come down to the 90 seconds ahead of her.

For her last Olympic Games, Y/n wanted to go out with an emotional goodbye when it came to her floor music. When she found the music piece on YouTube, it brought to tears and Y/n thought ‘it’s perfect’. Crying at the end of her routine was expected. It was only fitting to do so knowing it would be the last time she stepped on the floor.

Y/n thought back to that memory of her sitting in front of the tv in 2004. A little girl with a dream.

‘Don’t think,’ Bob’s voice sounded in her mind, ‘just do.’

The music started and Y/n did what she did best. She trusted herself.

Memories of her career flashed before her with every spin, every pirouette, every tumble pass. The first mommy and me class when she was 5 years old. Her first time balancing on the beam, the first time she pulled herself up on the bar. Dancing to each corner, Y/n could remember the excitement each time she stepped on the mat. How nervous she was at her first meet. Happiness at winning her first junior national title.

Making the junior national team at 14.

Making the senior international team at 15.

Competing at her first World Championships. Winning the gold on the bars. Her first of seven.

Making the London Olympic team at 16. Being part of the gold medal winning team. Becoming the Olympic Champion of the bars and beam.

Becoming World Champion of the beam at 17. Claiming the World All-Around silver at 18 & 19. Becoming World Champion of the vault and having the triple twisting Yurchenko named after her at 19.

Making the Rio de Janeiro team at 20. Meeting the man who would become her husband at the trials.

Winning the team gold for a second consecutive time. Making history as the first American woman to win back-to-back individual gold on the bars and beam.

Reclaiming the World beam gold at 21 and the World All-Around Silver at 21 & 23. Becoming a seven-time World champion of the uneven bars at 23.

Came close to retiring after a near career-ending injury at 23. Made a comeback at 25 and qualified for her third consecutive Olympic Games.

Reuniting with Bob at 21. Falling in love with him at 22. Marrying him at 24 to become his life partner.

Qualifying for the All-Around final in her last Olympic Games.

Y/n L/n would go down in history regardless of the outcome of this floor routine. So what better way than to finish the last All-Around competition of her life by having fun. Even if she didn’t make the podium, it would be okay.

She did the impossible when not many thought she could.

When the music ended and Y/n exhaled, she felt the lone tear slip from her eye. The sight in front her was every athlete, coach, and spectator on their feet clapping for her. Even some of the floor judges gave nods of respect when she saluted, in the distance the judges from the beam clapped with soft smiles. And when Y/n looked to the floor below, she spotted some of her competitors, including Suni, wiping away tears.

“And so Y/n L/n takes her final bow on the floor. The last time we will ever see her in an All-Around competition—what a beautiful way to go out. It’s hard to say if it will be enough for the gold. But regardless, the 25-year-old from Lemoore, California has embedded her legacy in Tokyo as one of the greatest gymnasts in the history of the sport.”

Coming down from the mat, Y/n waved to the small group of spectators including Team USA who were still whistling and cheering before she was met with the open embrace of her coach since childhood, Mike Taylor. His eyes were rimmed, indicating he’d been crying causing Y/n’s lip to quiver. “That was the most beautiful floor routine you’ve ever done, my little powerhouse. Beautiful.” Suni came over, Y/n immediately going to hug her as they waited for the score to come. The veteran gymnast told Suni how proud she was of her, letting her know it was an honor to compete alongside and against her. They’d known each other since Suni’s debut on the national team, and Y/n had immense respect for her as an athlete.

Several other gymnasts and their coaches came over to offer kind words. Many of them had been watching Y/n on the international level since 2011 before they had come onto the stage.

It was a bittersweet scene. Not only in the Tokyo dome, but also in Lemoore. There was not a dry eye in sight when Y/n landed her final tumbling pass. Several people, including Nat, Daisy, Y/n’s parents and former teammates and Bob were pretty much sobbing. There was a camera crew from NBC there to capture their reactions—no doubt going to have it shown on live tv when the competition ended.

No one could predict what would happen next.

The camera had paned to Y/n and Suni talking after several of the other competitors had exchanged words with the gymnast. A moment later a woman, one of the floor judges, was rushing up to them.

“Turn it up!” Payback yelled and the person closest to the TV increased the volume. They all watched as the woman pulled the two athletes and their coaches away from the group, cameraman getting close to hear the details.

“It appears one floor judges has some news for both Americans, let’s listen in to see what’s happening,” the commentator's voice was just as confused.

“We wanted to let you both know before the score goes up,” she spoke with an accent, likely Greek or Italian they weren’t exactly sure. “But the score for Mrs. L/n-Floyd looks to be a flat 13.000.” Bob snapped his gaze to the notebook, where the number 13.000 would result in a tie.

Y/n’s expression indicated she realized it too. A shaky hand came up to her chin, eyes in disbelief though she was beginning to grin, “Are you saying we get to share the gold?” Suni’s hands clapped her mouth as she gasped, flicking her attention to Y/n and the judge. Behind them their coaches looked so stressed they were about to become bald.

“Oh my god,” Bob lifted from his chair the same time the commentator said, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We could be looking at history right here.”

The judge gave a slight nod, saying, “If you two have no problem with it—,” both gymnasts were nodding, tears in their eyes threatening to escape. “We want to remain fair as you know.”

“Of course,” Y/n looked at Suni, who mirrored her expression. “History, Suni. We’re Olympic Champions.” The gymnast catapulted in Y/n’s arms the two screaming in delight while their coaches did the same next to them. The judge smiled at the scene, moving to relay the news to the rest as Suni and Y/n sunk to the ground.

The entire gym in Lemoore exploded as the title card appeared on the screen the same time it did on the leaderboard: #1 LEE, Sunisa & L/N-FLOYD, Y/n (USA) TOTAL OVERALL: 57.433

Bob collapsed to the ground, Nat coming over to place her hands on his back in a comforting way while she too was a mess. Maverick came over to the two, patting Bob’s shoulder as he brought Nat into a hug. The commentator's voice could barely be heard with the noise happening in the gym. “I CANNOT BELIEVE IT OH MY GOD—BOTH AMERICANS HAVE TAKEN THE GOLD—FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE HISTORY OF THIS EVENT, THERE HAS BEEN A TIE FOR GOLD IN THE WOMEN’S ALL-AROUND FINAL. SUNI LEE AND Y/N L/N SHARE THE TOP OF THE LEADERBOARD WITH AN OVERALL SCORE OF 57.433. IT IS OLYMPIC HISTORY FOR TEAM USA!!! Y/N L/N IS THE OLYMPIC CHAMPION IN HER FINAL OLYMPIC APPEARANCE! SUNI LEE IN HER OLYMPIC DEBUT IS COMING HOME WITH ALL-AROUND GOLD!”

“OH MY GOD!!” Daisy screamed, jumping up and down with several of the local gymnasts. “She did it! Y/n did it!” The teenager pushed through to embrace her brother, who was still an emotional mess on the floor. Next to the dagger squad Bob and Y/n’s parents were all embraced with coach Mary, mirroring the expression of everyone else. It was a surreal moment as the camera showed Suni and Y/n raising their interlaced hands in the air.

Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around.

Y/n’s seventh Olympic gold medal.

Before the podium ceremony the live NBC coverage released the reaction of Bob and the gym—which already started to go viral on Twitter, TikTok, and instagram on the NBCOlympics accounts. Bob had fell to his knees, hiding his face, so he missed out on Coyote tripping into Fanboy as they celebrated and fell to the ground. In the corner one could see Y/n’s dad run to the balance beam like he was on ‘The Price is Right,’ before sweeping Y/n’s mom off her feet.

At the podium ceremony, Y/n and Suni held hands, stepping on the platform together with their hands raised as the announcer spoke to the world, “Gold medalists and Olympic Champions, from the United States of America, Y/n L/n-Floyd and Sunisa Lee!” Members of Team USA who showed up to watch the competition were going crazy, the gymnasts in a heap of tears.

When the gold medals were presented to them, Y/n and Suni medaled each other. Y/n took the first gold, placing it around her friend and teammate before Suni did the same to her with the second gold. “Wow what a sight, folks. Truly beautiful to see two people who are not only teammates and competitors, but also friends crown each other as the Olympic Champion of the All-Around. I don’t think we’ll ever see something like this again in an Olympic Games. This is truly history we are witnessing.” The two hugged, muttering congratulations into each other’s ears and beaming beneath the mask when they pulled away to face the flags.

The tears flowed freely for Y/n, the weight of the medal and the sound of the National anthem a reminder that she wasn’t dreaming. She was standing on top of the podium. The gold medalist of the Olympic All-Around.

A dream nearly 20 years in the making since she first watched the Games in Athens at age 8.

In the post-ceremony interview, Y/n was emotional again when the NBC correspondent for the All-Around final showed her the reaction of her loved ones at home. When Bob fell to his knees she had to cover her mouth. “I wish they were here,” she choked, “Ugh it sucks not having them but I love that they were able to watch from home. They are the reason I’m standing here and get to call myself an Olympic champion. It’s their support that’s fueled me the last couple years.”

The reporter gave a sympathetic look, “We actually have a team there with them right now. We’re patching them through right now.”

“Oh my God, really?” Y/n gasped before sobbing when the image on the screen appeared to show her friends and family. They all hollered and cheered, waving frantically at the camera. The gymnast sobbed, waving to the camera, “Oh my God! Mom, dad—Oh Bobby!”

“Oh honey,” he sniffed, the camera focusing on him. “I’m so so proud of you. We’re the moon here—you were so incredible, Y/n. I just can’t put into words how happy I am for you. I love you so much, baby—I can’t say that enough.”

“I love you too! I miss you so much, Bobby. Thank you for being rock and helping everyday in and out of the gym. This gold medal is for you.”

Her parents move to the front. “Sweetheart, your mom and I—I don’t think she can really talk right now,” Y/n laughed at her dad, seeing her mom was still a mess. “We just want to say that we love you so much. You’ve inspired us since you were a little girl and it’s an honor to be your parents.” He had to pause, getting worked up, “We’re so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I know that you’ve got plans after this and just know we’re going to support you every step of the way.”

Y/n said words of thanks and love to her parents before thanking everyone who showed up to support her. After the call ended the reporter had one last question, “Y/n, you have one last event coming up, the uneven bars final. You’re no doubt the favorite to win—people want to see you make history one last time by becoming the first gymnast from any nation ever to win the title three times in a row. Now you said back in 2016 that whether or not you made this team you’d be retiring. That floor performance tonight definitely felt like a farewell to the sport.” Y/n was slowly nodding with each word, confirming the suspicion. The reporter finally asks, “Once you’ve taken your final step onto the mat Sunday night, will that be the last we see of Y/n L/n in the women’s gymnastics?”

Letting out a shaky breath, feeling the emotion swirl in her chest, Y/n replies, “I am fortunate to say that I have been a part of team USA since I debuted at 15 for my first World’s. Ten years with seven World championships and three Olympic Games—each time coming home with a title, not a lot of people can say that. It’s been an extreme honor……..I crap I knew this was going to be hard,” her vision blurs, “Two years ago I was on the verge of retirement and then got my second chance. I will forever be grateful that I got it and achieved this goal I set out to do after London. It’s been a hard decision, but it’s the right decision so to answer your question, yes Sunday night will be my last routine in gymnastics. I love this sport, I love what it has given me. I have so much love and appreciation for those who have supported me this past decade including my coaches, friends, family, and former teammates. It’s hard to say goodbye, but all great things must come to an end. And I hope to end on a golden note Sunday night, but if that doesn’t happen I’m okay with that. I’m just truly happy—t-that's the best way to put it all into one word. Happy.”

The last gymnast to step on the mat in the uneven bars final, Y/n saluted the judge, did her ritual one final time, and let the bars take her high in the sky. Just like on floor, it wasn’t about the medal. It wasn’t about being the greatest bars gymnast to ever exist.

It was about having fun. It was about that little girl who tumbled on the mat and swung on the bars with a smile on her face. Remembering the love that grew from every minute she was in class and how it made her feel free.

Once again tears coated Y/n’s eyes when she landed the dismount, saluting the judge one last time to the roar of applause of those around her. Mike fell to his knees, Y/n glancing up to the ceiling muttering, ‘Thank you,’ to whoever stood above.

Deep down, she knew.

The night the NBC live coverage reported, “It was a golden farewell for Y/n L/n-Floyd of the United States. The Queen of the Uneven Bars received a groundbreaking score of 17.045 in tonight’s women’s uneven bars final, making her the first gymnast in history from any nation to win the gold medal in its individual event final three consecutive Olympics—L/n-Floyd adding a third medal to her Tokyo collection, her second gold after making history Thursday night with other American gymnast Suni Lee by becoming co-Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around. Tonight marked Y/n’s eighth Olympic gold medal, her ninth total—she now holds the record of most gold medals won by an American gymnast in the Olympics, as well as the title of most decorated Olympic gymnast in the history of Team USA—overtaking that of Shannon Miller’s seven total medals. The captain of this Tokyo team, Y/n L/n-Floyd has announced her retirement from gymnastics following these Olympic Games. It truly is a sad day for the sport to say goodbye to one of the greatest athletes it’s ever produced, but fear not, tonight was not the last we will see of Y/n in Tokyo. She’s been selected by the members of Team USA to hold the American flag in next Sunday’s closing ceremonies, and if my sources are correct there’s already talk of Y/n being a future inductee of the Olympic Hall of Fame. Until then, on behalf of America and those of us in the studio we’d like to congratulate Y/n L/n-Floyd on an magnificent career, representing Team USA for more than a decade in several international stages, and wish her luck on her future endeavors. Thank you.” As the camera panned away from the broadcaster, the Olympic Fanfare & Theme by John Williams sounded while footage highlights of Y/n’s Olympic career played before the viewers. London. Rio. Tokyo.

Bob met her at the airport, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in circles to the joy of her laughter. When he sat her down he held her in his arms for several minutes pressing little kisses all over her face, “I am so so proud of you. I love you so so much,” he said between each kiss.

“I love you too,” she kissed him back before taking her ring from around his neck. Bob grabbed it from her, securing it on her finger before gently kissing the knuckle beneath it. “So I was thinking,” her arms went around his neck, running her fingers along the hair at the nape. “Even though my journey as an athlete has ended……maybe it could be the start of someone else’s?”

Bob looked confused at first, but then slowly his eyes widened, “Are…are you saying you want to…have a baby?” Y/n nodded, eyes glossy as she replied, “if that’s something you’d want. You’re the best husband a girl could ask for, and I know you’d be an amazing father, Bobby.”

Instead of answering, Bob kissed her, pouring every ounce of love from his soul into it. “Yes,” he broke the kiss only to give her another. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I would love nothing more than to raise children with you, Y/n. Let’s do it.” A squeal left her as he dragged her to the car on a mission. “Let’s start as soon as we get home.”

Y/n’s life was one that could be written in the history books. And though she no longer stepped on the mat as a competitor, a new chapter had opened after Tokyo. One with her legacy continuing many years after her debut.

Stepping on the mat as both coach and mother to her not only her sister-in law who strived to be like her idol, but her own little girl who loved to fly high on the bars.

………………………..

Tag list (& those who commented on P.1): @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Forever and Ever, Amen - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis. It's a cute song and it feels Bob coded imo. It's not a religious song other than the word "amen" being used.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 1k

Mornings were never particularly easy for you, but mornings before Bob had to leave for a mission were on the verge of unbearable. At the start of your relationship, they were less frequent, only a few times scattered throughout those first few months of the honeymoon period, spoiling you with plenty of opportunities to spend time together in the early stages. Now at the end of your first year together, it felt like Bob was gone every 4-6 weeks, sometimes just to come home and leave again a day or two later. 

You breathed a heavy, reluctant sigh as you hit snooze on your phone and rolled over to face Bob in bed, who was just reaching over for his glasses. He adjusted them on his face and hummed softly, almost looking defeated as he faced you.

“That time already?” He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling, “I don’t want to go this time.”

“I don’t want you to go either, but I don’t think we get a choice in the matter, Bobby,” you sighed heavily as you turned on to your side, a frown forming on your lips as you looked at him. He shut his deep blue eyes for a minute and sighed.

“Alright, we have time for breakfast together first, right?” He said quietly, a strained smile on his face as he looked to you, trying to mask his sadness and frustration with his chosen line of work in this moment.

“Of course we do, you start getting ready, I’ll go make breakfast, yeah?”

Bob pressed his lips to your cheek in a loving kiss as he sat up, frowning as he looked out the window. You reluctantly got yourself up, padding down the hall to the kitchen, leaving Bob alone for a moment to collect his thoughts as he got himself prepared to go out again. The smell of fresh cooked bacon and eggs wafted through the house as you made breakfast for the two of you, the warm rays of the early morning sun came pouring through the window. 

Bob came up behind you, gently snaking his arm around your waist as you poured him a cup of orange juice. He pressed his nose into the back of your hair as he murmured a soft spoken “I love you”. You set the glass down on the counter before turning to face him, forcing a happy smile to hide the tears that were threatening to well up in your eyes as you caught sight of him in his uniform khakis. You adjusted his name tag for him, nodding your head once as you brushed any lint off his shoulders. You breathed in the smell of his aftershave, cupping your hands on either side of his face as you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“There, now you look perfect,” You gave him a nod of approval as you handed him his glass from the counter.

“Wait,” He shook his head and laughed as he set the glass on the table, “I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise you what, exactly?” Your brows furrowed together into a frown that probably appeared more like a pout than mild frustration.

“Promise me you don’t forget that I love you?”

“What on earth kind of promise is that, Bobby? Of course I’m not going to forget.”

“Just promise me, ok? You’ve had to be without me a lot lately, and I feel bad, but I want you to always remember that I love you, and I spend the entire time thinking about how I want to come home to you.”

“Alright,” you nodded your head as you looked at your feet, blinking back tears as you took a breath to collect yourself before looking back up at him, “I promise.”

 “Good, don’t make me sing that song to you,” He flashed a bright grin at you before pressing his lips to your forehead in an affectionate kiss. 

“What song might that be?”

“You’re really gonna make me sing it, aren’t you?” 

“You betcha, Robert”

Bob let out a playful sigh as he grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate on the table and bit into it carefully, being mindful not to make a mess out of his uniform. He swallowed his mouthful and rolled his eyes before clearing his throat and breaking out into song. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna love you forever, forever and ever amen, As long as old men sit and talk about the weather–”

“As long as old women sit and talk about old men —” you chimed in, harmonizing with Bob as he sang.

“If you wonder how long I’ll be faithful, I’d be happy to tell you again, I’m gonna love you, forever and ever, forever and ever, amen”.

Bob smirked as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Happy now?”

“Mhmm, how long was it you said you’d love me for again?” You returned his smirking glance, biting your lip to hold back a giggle. 

“Forever and ever, baby.”

“That’s what I thought. If I ever feel like I’m forgetting, I’ll just listen to that song until I remember, deal?”

“Perfect,” Bob nodded his head as he kissed you again before taking his seat at the table, quickly tucking into his breakfast.

A half hour later, as you say your goodbyes to one another at the base, you wave to Bob and give him a smile, refusing to let him see you upset as he leaves. Bob wraps you in his strong arms, enveloping your body as he gave you a passionate kiss. 

“Remember, forever and ever, baby,” he whispered softly as he held you tight.

“Forever and ever,” Your voice echoing his as you gave a subtle nod, breathing in his scent and taking in as much of him as you could, committing it all to memory before letting him go for any stretch of time again.

“Forever and ever, amen,” Bob grinned.

[cherrycola27]

Other Uses

This was inspired by this ask for my 2k celly!

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI

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

You remember the day you met Robert Floyd. You'd just come to California to help open a new branch of your law firm, and you were celebrating a job well done with some of your friends at a Navy bar one of them knew.

You'd immediately spotted him, a wallflower amongst his friend group. He was shy, quiet, and reserved. Just your type. Most people would think that someone like you, a cut throat lawyer who'd been compared to Hades more times than you cared to count, would be drawn to someone loud and in your face.

But just how Hades longed for a breath of spring in Persephone, you desired someone to complete you. Reel you in and bring you back to earth when you became too much.

And that's exactly what Robby did. You'll never forget the look on his face when you confirmed that you were, in fact, talking to him. You spent all night getting to know him. Two days later, he was taking you on a date.

You were now three months into your relationship, and Robby's birthday was approaching. You planned to take him out of town and get a nice hotel suite and hopefully cross that final line in your relationship.

You had suspected that Bob didn't have much experience in the bedroom. What you hadn't expected was for him to almost shamefully admit to you that he was a virgin after the two of you had been making out on your couch and he'd cum in his pants.

You took his face in your hands and told him that there was nothing to be ashamed of, and whenever he was ready, you would cross that line together.

These past two weeks, Bob had been getting bolder when he kissed you. Touching you, pulling your hair, trying to dominate the kiss. You knew that he was ready.

This weekend, the two of you would be alone, and Robby would be all yours, to kiss, to love, to corrupt, to enjoy.

You were giddy the whole drive to La Jolla. You sat in the passenger seat of Bob's truck singing along to a playlist you'd made just for the occasion.

You were beaming when you checked in the hotel, and you were practically bouncing up and down in the elevator and down the hallway to your room. As soon you slid the key into the lock, you were practically dragging your Bob into the room.

He quickly rolled in the luggage and took in the suite.

"Wow, Honeybee, this is amazing. There is only one problem." He said as he faced you.

"What? What's wrong?" You asked him, slightly panicked.

"There is only one bed. Where are we both going to sleep?" He asked you. You threw your head back and chuckled. "We are going to share. We are a couple." You reminded him.

"Right." He said as a blush crept across his cheeks. "Well, it does look pretty comfortable. We should be able to sleep pretty well on it." He says. You can't help but laugh at your clueless boyfriend.

"Oh, Robby, there are so many more things that we can use it for other than sleeping. How about I show you." You purred into his ear as you lead him further into the hotel room.

Bob swallowed thickly as you pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. You kissed him a few times before stepping back and pulling your sundress over your head.

Bob's eyes went wide as you revealed a black lace bodysuit with some tasteful cutouts. He swallowed thickly as you sank to your knees in front of him. You made quick work of his belt, and when you tapped his hips, he lifted them so you could bring his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion.

His cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. You licked your lips as you looked at it. He was long and thick and girthy, with pretty veins wrapping around it. The tip was flushed, the same shade of pink that spread across his cheeks.

"Has anyone ever given you a blow job, Robby?" You asked him as you peered up at him through your lashes.

"N—no." He stuttered out. A wicked smile spread across your red lips before you leaned forward and licked the vein that ran from the base to the tip.

And long groan left his lips as you did so. Determined to see what other sounds you could draw from him, you kitten licked the head, lapping up beads of precum before taking the tip between your lips.

You bobbed your head further down his length, swallowing around him once you reached the neat thatch of hair at his base.

His hips bucked involuntarily, causing you to gag. You moaned at the sensation, hoping he would do it again, but Bob was too polite. You grabbed one of his white knuckled hands and placed it on the back of your head. His fingers tangled in your hair, but he was still frozen as you pleasured him.

You pulled off of him completely and told him, "Robby, you can be a little rough with me. I want you to fuck my face. Okay?" He sucked in a breath and nodded.

You resumed your work, and soon, his hips were bucking into your mouth, and both of his hands tangled in your hair. Bob couldn't stop the cries of pleasure from leaving his mouth as you worked him faster and faster.

"Honeybee, I'm gonna—" but Bob didn't have time to finish his warning before he was shooting thick, hot ropes of his salty cum down your throat.

You swallowed and pulled off of him before sticking out your tongue and showing him that you'd taken all of his release. He looked at you mystified.

"Did you like that, Robby?" You asked him innocently.

"I fucking loved it, Honeybee." He growled as he pulled you into his lap. You moan. Bob rarely cursed, and hearing is pretty mouth say something filthy just did it for you. You quickly whipped his shirt off before he brought your lips together.

His hands roamed all over you body. Eagerly taking in the lace number you were wearing.

"Can I— can I taste you?" Bob asked. This time, you were the one caught off guard shaking your head.

Bob manhandled you on your back as you nestled against the pillows.

He took his time kissing down your body. Your gasps and moans and words of praise spurred him on. He spread your legs wide before settling between your thighs.

"Have you ever done this, Robby?" You ask him. "I tried with my last girlfriend, but I didn't know what I was doing, and she didn't like it." He admits sheepishly.

"It's okay, baby. I'll help you. I'll teach you to eat pussy like a king, but only for me." You smirk at him. He blushes, and you give him the go-ahead. He peppers a few kisses along your thighs before pulling the crotch of the bodysuit to the side.

He placed a few kisses along your glistening cunt before tentatively licking a broad swipe over your folds.

You let out a high-pitched whine. Bob looks up and checks for reassurances before continuing.

He licks your folds over and over before deciding to try something he saw in a porno. He uses his thumbs to open your folds before spitting directly on your clit and sucking it into his mouth.

"Fuck, Robby!" You cry as you arch off the bed. "Was that bad?" He asks you with a panicked look.

"No, fuck, do it again baby." You tell him. Bob smirks at you before repeating the action.

You card your fingers through his hair to help guide him, but soon, Bob has your legs shaking as he buries his face in your sopping cunt.

You're teetering on the edge of an orgasm, slightly afraid he won't get you there when Bob surprises you and sinks two of his thick fingers inside you and strokes your walls.

You can tell he's looking for your g-spot. Once he finds it. Like a good WSO, he zeros in on it and drags his calloused finger tips along it over and over again.

You grind your core against his face and grip his hair tighter before arching of the bed and crying out his name as you cum.

Bob emerges from your thighs with a dopey grin on his face.

"Where did you learn to do that?" You pant out.

"I watched some porn, and I may or may not have asked Phoenix for some pointers." He tells you. "Remind me to send her a fruit basket as a thank you." You chuckle as Bob slides up the bed to join you.

The two of you kisses for what seems like hours. "If you don't want to do anything else today, we can stop." You tell him. "I want to. I'm just—can you be on top? Please." He asks.

"Of course, Robby. Can you help me take this off?" You gesture to your bodysuit.

Bob nods eagrly as he tries to undo the laces of it. He fumbles with them as he hands shake with excitement before he accidentally rips the garment. A look of fear flashes across his face.

You laugh before telling him it's okay. He finishes ripping the entire thing off. You help him lay down on the bed before straddling his waist.

"Wait! Do we need protection?" Bob asks you.

"I'm clean, and I have an IUD. Are you comfortable without it?" You ask him. "Yes. Please. I want to feel you." Bob groans. You smile at him before rubbing your slick folds across the underside of his length.

He grips the sheets for dear life when you take his length into your hand before slowly sinking down on him. Even with his fingers helping to prep you, it's still a stretch. Bob is easily the biggest man you've ever been with.

Once you're fully seated on him, his hands come to your hips as both of you adjust.

You start our nice and slow with your pace. Gauging his reaction the whole time. Once you find a rhythm that has him a panting, mewling mess underneath you, you speed up and ride him with earnest. His grip on your hips tightens as you throw your head back.

"You look so pretty under me, Robby, like a fucking dream." You praise him. He's a sight to behold. A blush spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears, glasses slightly askew, his brow knit, his mouth open and pretty sounds falling from it.

"Honeybee, baby." He groans out. "Yes?" You ask him.

"Can I— can I be on top now? Please?" Bob grits out.

You both whine when you still your hips. Bob sits up but moves a little too fast, causing the two of you to topple over. You land on your back with a oof. Bob's forehead accidentally bangs into yours, and you both laugh.

"Sorry." He mumbles. You reassure him that it's fine. He gives you a kiss on the lips before leaning back on his haunches.

Bob makes a few experimental thrusts before settling on wrapping both of your legs around his slim hips and pushing into your deeply. You can tell his trying to find your g-spot again because he is desperate to make you cum again.

He knows the moment he finds it because you're clawing at his back. He drags the fat head of his cock against it over and over again.

With each stroke, it feels like the tip kisses your cervix with how deep he is. You frantically claw at him and cry out his name over and over again.

"Robby! So close. Please!" You beg him. The truth is Bob is close, too. He's trying to hold out for you. One of his hands leaves its spot beside your head and he brings his thumb to your neglected clit.

"Me too, Bee. You feel so fukcing good." He pants out.

He draws tight circles on it, praying it is enough to get you there. His thrusts become sloppy as he loses his pace and hips stutter.

Bob can't fight it anymore and he cums deep inside of you, crying out your name. Your walls clench around him as his release triggers your own finish. They flutter around his cock as the milk him dry.

Bob collapses on top of you and buries his head in the crook of your neck.

You run your hands through his hair and sooth him with whispered praises as he comes down from his high. He's trembling in your arms.

The two of you stay like that until Bob can form real words.

"That was amazing, Bee. God, I love you. Thank you for being patient with me." Bob says as he kisses your nose a lips.

"Of course, Robby. It was wonderful. I love you too. Now, why don't we get a hot shower, and then we can cuddle." You say. Bob's face falls and he looks a little disappointed.

"Oh." He whispers. "Robby. What's wrong?" You ask.

"I was just hoping we could do it again. There were a few more positions I wanted to try." He grins.

You laugh and smile at him. "Okay, birthday boy. But let's pace ourselves. We have all weekend." You tell him.

Bob grins and reaches for you. It's a good thing that you didn't make any other plans for the two of you because neither of you leaves that suite for the entire weekend.

I wrote this for my "Dagger Deities Extravaganza" shout out to @withahappyrefrain for sending in the ask for this! The like to all the other blurbs can be found here

Tagging some folks who might be interested: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosterbruiser @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @seresinsweetie @my-obsession-spn @eternalsams @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @clancycucumber230 @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydsbabe @ohtobeleah @rhettabbotts @bradshawsbaby

[sweetwhispersofchaos]

They’re my absolute favorite! I need another movie to see more of their dynamic!

Is anyone available to talk about Top Gun: Maverick? Specifically, is anyone available to talk about Phoenix and Bob’s dynamic in Top Gun: Maverick?

Phoenix literally knew Bob for only 10 minutes and was like:

(graphic via @tcmiv)

And Bob was like:

They were the best team in the squadron. I love them, your honor.

[averyhotchner]

Avery's TopGun:Maverick recs pt.2

alrighty, almost 3 months later, here is my list of favourite TopGun: Maverick fics that no one asked for. like last time, it's mostly hangman, rooster and a bit of bobby boy. but i am slowly starting to fall for mickey and coyote.

please make sure to follow the age limit set by the writers!

jake "hangman" seresin

Fuck: The Universe (mini-series) by @roosterbruiser

okay maybe this is recency bias, because i did read this whole mini series yesterday and today, but still. it checks all the boxes, and of course i love the trope of jake is an ass to everyone but his girl, who also happens to be way better than him. also part 7 cracked me up.

real friends (series) by @starlightstories

i read real friends then found fuck: the universe, and i realized i really really really like the loverboy jake grumpy reader trope. i have no shame.

hey stupid, i love you (one shot) by @callsignseagull

okay this fic is very personal to me. i genuinely felt like the reader in this fic because i'm going through a very similar thing right now, and it tamed so many of my insecurities. i can't wait to reread soon!

loving you is... (series) by @demxters

guys frat hangman. that's all.

sleepy baby (series) by @discount-shades

the lengths at which this man goes just to find his princess, goals.

Where I'm From (one-shot) by @sometimes-i-write-good

sweet man jake, back at it again stealing hearts

Minimal Losses (series) by @ohtobeleah

this series and the rooster prequel NCIS ARE SO GOOD. im a sucker for this shit.

Sweet Nothings (series) by @sweetlittlegingy

yup! yup! yup! make sure you get your blood sugar checked before reading this because it's so damn sweeeeeet

Seeing Red (series) by @call-sign-jinx

picture this: its 2015, you're on wattpad and every single fic is a social media fic. but THIS? this is everything. the amount of work that goes into making a single text screenshot, not to mention the plot! its truly incredible and had be crying, laughing and sitting on the edge of my seat. i can't praise this series, and the other fics in this universe, enough.

yours (one-shot) by @theharddeck

this one... yeah its cute. but its down right sinful as well

bradley "rooster" bradshaw

I Will Always Love You (one-shot) by @amysteryspot

this one is short and sweet and honestly made me cry while eating my blt quarter pounder.

Pamper Night (on-shot) by @dagger-wren

okay this fic started as a cute little date night/self care night fic. BUT THEN, the ending had me falling in love with this dysfunctional squad. of course rooster and his girl are mom and dad, like who else.

Eat It, Twilight (one-shot) by @fandomxpreferences

okay i know this is a hangman fic, but i dont care. the rooster bff part was what i loved the most. also the plot is highlarious, and its probably because i was high when i read it, but still. chefs kiss.

Terms of Endearment (series) by @ohtobeleah

this series will be the death of me. each time a new chapter gets released im holding my breath on whether its gonna be all angst or all fluff. but either way i know its beautifully written.

And They Were Roommates (series) by @starryeyedstories

this. its hilarious and i cannot wait for more!

robert "bob" floyd

Christmas Gift (on-shot) by @call-sign-jinx

one of the most common bob fics i see is him with a teacher, and honestly i love it. who else would be as sweet and as patient as this man. i have the utmost respect for anyone who works in education, ESPECIALLY those who work with kids under 13. anyways, love this fic.

King of My Heart (one-shot) by @croimilis

dunk bob is the sweetest person ever!

Apple pie (mini-series) by @andorskenobi

the warning is very real, pls take it seriously <3

honorable mentions:

@sunlightmurdock @callsignvalley @toms-gf @make-me-imagine @callsignsaturn @madsnowstorm @jupitercomet @katsu28 @sehnsuchts-trunken @roosterforme (literally anything emily writes will be on a rec list i make)

i just wanna send my love to all the writers on this platform. whether you're just posting your first fic, or just finishing your 5th series, i appreciate you so much. i don't always have the time to comment and i'm dumb and don't understand how to reblog efficiently (working on it), but please know that all the effort and time you put in to making these works is truly admirable and i wish i was as talented as any of you.

okay thats all for now. i need to start making these more often cause theres so many i left out, i was just too lazy to scroll and find them.

[highwaytothedangerzone86]

I also still have the Bobs Football shirt available too in my small shop.

Link is here

[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

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