#bob x oc

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Romancing the Navy's Princess - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Fem!OC (Maya Kazansky-Mitchell)

Word Count: 2.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are +18 only. MINORS DNI!

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sexual Content; One Night Stands; Light Angst; Background IceMav; Named OC (Maya), who is ADOPTED, No Reference to Physical Description/Appearance; Implications Along the Lines of the 'Bob Fucks' Agenda

Summary: Bob is not the type of guy to hook up with a random woman in his car. Maya something-or-other changes that streak. Except Maya something-or-other turns out to actually be Maya Kazansky-Mitchelli.

Bob was not usually one for a one-night stand. He was not one to chat up random women at bars and then hook up with them in the back of his car. He was not usually the type to even entertain the idea of doing anything like that.

But this night was different, for whatever reason.

Maybe it was because the Dagger Squad chose to go to a civilian bar rather than the Hard Deck. Maybe it was because he put in his contacts—even though he hated them—on a whim. Maybe it was because he was just a little bit touch-starved and desperate.

Or maybe it was simply her.

Maya.

Maya something-or-other.

He didn’t know her last name.

It didn’t come up when she accidentally spilled her drink on him. It didn’t come up when she stuttered and stammered as she tried to help him clean up afterwards. It didn’t come up after he told her to not worry about it and invited her to sit down and chat. And it didn’t come up when she asked him if he wanted to leave with her after talking for the better part of two hours.

And, well, that little detail seemed pretty irrelevant right now.

The windows were fogged up as Bob tried to catch his breath. Maya rested her head against his shoulder and he could feel her chest rise and fall as well. Trailing his hands up and down her side, Bob gave her hips a light squeeze that made Maya smile and press a kiss to his shoulder. And that only made Bob’s heart swell all the more.

“Did you finish?” Bob asked her quietly, causing Maya to send him a giddy smile as she bit her lip.

“Yeah, I did,” she assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.  

“You don’t have to try and protect my ego or anything,” Bob replied, causing Maya to sit up a bit.

“If I thought that telling you whether or not I finished would bruise your ego or something like that, I would have been left by now,” Maya told him honestly, trailing her fingers along his bare chest. “And I’m still here . . . so, do the math.”

“Okay,” Bob chuckled, rubbing her hips again.

He pressed a kiss to her chin that caused Maya to let out a breath of amusement. Leaning down, she cupped his cheeks and stole a few more kisses from Bob. And, well, Bob was certainly not complaining about any of it. Pulling back with a giggly grin, Maya stared down at Bob for a moment, simply taking in his presence for a moment.

“Would it be crazy if I said that we should do this again some time?” Maya asked softly, trailing her fingers down his arm.

Bob smiled and grabbed her hand with his own. Threading their fingers together, Bob pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Maya practically beamed at the simple affection and sat up a bit more.

“Not at all,” Bob agreed, trying to not sound too desperate to see her again. Even if he was. Holy hell, he was already hooked on this woman. “This weekend?”

“Saturday night?” Maya suggested in return.

“It’s a date,” Bob stated, causing Maya to smile bashfully.

“It’s a date,” she repeated quietly.

Leaning down, she pulled him in for another kiss. She tangled her hand in his hair and drew him closer. Bob happily reciprocated and let his hands wander all over again. Just when Bob was about to suggest another round, Maya’s phone started to buzz from a phone call.

Maya pulled back from the kiss and leaned over to check her phone. Bob pressed a set of kisses to her neck while she fumbled to find her phone, hoping to get her to refocus on him. But then Maya must have seen whoever was calling her because she cursed and pulled back entirely. Sitting up, she hurried to fix her clothes and hair while Bob sat there, a bit dumbfounded.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” Maya apologized, leaning over to give Bob a parting kiss. He was too stunned to properly return it. “But I’ll see you Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Bob trailed off as Maya slipped out of his car.

“Goodnight, Bob,” she called with a soft smile. “And sorry again.”

Bob sat dumbfounded, wondering how one phone call changed Maya’s demeanor so significantly in the span of about five seconds. He watched her hurry over and climb into her own car and drive off into the night. Sitting in his car alone for a moment, Bob slowly sat up.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially because every moment that he spent with Maya before she darted off felt like something out of a rom com. Phoenix did warn him about his tendency to fall hard and fast, but Maya reciprocated that. She was the one who suggested seeing each other again. Rubbing his face tiredly, Bob let out a groan.

This was why he didn’t do one-night stands. This was why he shouldn’t do one-night stands.

~~~~~

“What do you mean she just left?” Phoenix asked, openly frowning.

“One second we were making out and the next second she got some phone call and had to leave,” Bob sighed, tapping his pen anxiously.

“Did you see who the phone call was from?”

“No,” Bob muttered, trying to just focus on the paperwork in front of him. “And I already know what you’re going to say.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Phoenix replied somewhat defensively, though her expression gave it away.

“I’ll say it,” Hangman spoke up, walking over to Phoenix and Bob’s table. “It was probably her husband or her boyfriend.” Hangman clapped Bob on the shoulder, despite Bob’s rather dark look in his direction. “Congrats on becoming a side piece, Bob.”

“Fuck off, Hangman,” Phoenix snapped on Bob’s behalf.

“What? You were thinking it!”

“It could have been the babysitter,” Coyote added, wrapping an arm around Hangman’s shoulders. “Maybe she’s got kids and didn’t want to tell you about them.”

“That’s a good one,” Hangman agreed, high-fiving his wingman.

“Or maybe it was something else that has nothing to do with anything like that,” Fanboy suggested, trying to be supportive of Bob. Even if Fanboy was a little suspicious about the whole thing himself. “I mean, you knew her for only a couple of hours. Maybe it was just her roommate or something, who only calls in emergencies.”

“A roommate like a husband,” Hangman retorted, causing Bob to scowl.

“Bagman, you have five seconds—” Bob started to warn him.

“—Why the hell are you guys still here?” Payback called, walking into the room. “We’re supposed to be at Mav’s for dinner right now.”

“If you’re so concerned about that, why are you still here right now?” Fanboy asked his pilot, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re going to be late too.”

“Because I have to constantly check on you guys,” Payback sighed, sounding like a tired dad.

“Maverick texted you, didn’t he?” Phoenix deadpanned.

“Yeah, he did, so let’s go,” Payback announced, pointing at the door.

The six remaining Daggers headed out and started driving to the Kazansky-Mitchell house.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Dagger Squad to spend time up there. Maverick and Ice had a pool and a large kitchen that was always stocked with food now that Maverick was retired and Iceman was just working through the last few months of his contract before he would retire as well. And it was far larger than any of the apartments that the other Daggers lived in.

Bob sat in Phoenix’s passenger seat, a bit pouty, as Phoenix drove through the winding roads. He was severely annoyed after that whole conversation. Mostly because he had those thoughts himself already and now that he was convinced that he wasn’t crazy for thinking that, he was even more frustrated. And he was also annoyed because he didn’t think that he should be annoyed.

After all, wasn’t that what one-night stands were? Just sex and nothing else? Why did he have to get so fucking attached so quickly?

“Don’t let Hangman get in your head about it,” Phoenix told Bob softly. “He’s just an asshole.”

“But what if he’s right?” Bob sighed, holding his head in his hands. “What if that’s really the situation? What if I just helped someone cheat?”

“Even if that was the case, you didn’t know,” Phoenix insisted immediately, shooting Bob a look to take a breath. “And you don’t even know that’s the situation. Don’t jump to conclusions. Just take a breath and you can deal with it on Saturday.”

Bob simply let out a groan in response to Phoenix and hit his head against his head rest. Phoenix patted his shoulder with a simple ‘there-there’ kind of way that just caused Bob to sigh and sink into his seat further. Phoenix glanced up the road to see the Kazansky-Mitchell driveway only a few seconds up the remaining hill.

“Besides, we’re here. Just enjoy the good food.”

Bob pulled his hands away from his face and sat up a bit, trying to take a little bit of Phoenix’s advice. He should just focus on what was right in front of him and nothing else. And that was a great plan. Up until what was right in front of him was an oddly familiar car.

Maya’s car, to be more specific.

“Bob?” Phoenix called, confused and a little concerned about him.

“That’s her car,” Bob mumbled out.

“What?”

“That’s her car,” Bob stated more firmly, pointing at the vehicle. “That’s Maya’s car, Phoenix.”

“Bob, that’s a very common car,” Phoenix replied softly, trying to get him to focus.

“I swear that’s her car,” Bob insisted, turning to his best friend. “She had that college sticker on her car. I know that she did, Phoenix.”

“I believe you, Bob,” Phoenix assured him as she turned off her car. “But she’s probably not the only person to have that college sticker or that car. Especially in southern California.”

“Fine,” Bob sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Maybe I’m just starting to see things.”

“Hey, you put yourself out there for the first time in a while. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Phoenix and Bob climbed out of Phoenix’s car and headed inside the Kazansky-Mitchell home. They were the last of the Daggers to arrive and moved to quickly join the rest outside on the back porch. Maverick was over by the grill, chatting with Fanboy and Payback. Ice was sitting down at the table, chatting with Hangman and Coyote.

“Hey, look who finally made it,” Fanboy called, causing Phoenix to scoff.

“You literally got here a minute ago.”

“Still counts!”

“How’s it going, Mav?”  Bob asked, causing the older aviator to smile.

“Just starting up the grill. Drinks are inside and Rooster and my daughter are in the middle of bringing out the rest of the food,” Maverick explained, gesturing towards the house.

“Your daughter?” Phoenix inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she moved back home for her new job. She’s staying with us until she finds an apartment,” Maverick replied with a proud smile.

“You have a daughter?” Bob questioned, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, we adopted her when she was a baby,” Maverick explained, turning to Bob with a softer smile. “She’s been living out on the East Coast for the last couple of years, so we haven’t gotten to see her that much lately. But now she’s home for a while.”

“Well, congrats, Mav,” Bob replied quietly, trying to not sweat through his shirt.

Maya’s car was in the driveway. She was living at home.

Things were starting to add up and Bob wasn’t liking the direction that they were heading in.

And, almost with comedic timing, the glass door to the house opened right behind Bob and Phoenix. Bob turned around and stared at Maya, who was chatting with Rooster as they carried out some sides and appetizers. And when Maya finally locked eyes with Bob, she froze as well.

“Phoenix, Bob, this is Ice and my daughter, Maya. Maya, this is Phoenix and Bob,” Maverick introduced, gesturing between them casually before going back to grilling.

“Hi,” Maya breathed out awkwardly.

“Hi,” Bob returned, just as painfully awkward.

She wasn’t Maya something-or-other anymore. She was Maya Kazansky-Mitchell. She was Ice and Mav’s daughter. She was the COMPACFLT’s daughter. She was his mentor’s daughter.  

Now, this was why he shouldn’t have one-night stands.

[jackiequick]

BABY ON BOARD HAS A WHAT-?!

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/Bob x OC (Nurse Anna)

Other Characters: The Daggers (+ JenPen Mitchell) and a few other background characters

Timeline: Set some time after The Uranium Project

Setting: The Bradshaw Household

It was an delightful Tuesday afternoon, the sun was shining brightly but it was windy and a bit chilly outside. The crew was mostly there expect for Amber who was assigned with a few meetings with her father that day, other than that the Daggers were together at The Bradshaw Mitchell household.

Usually they would be outside on the patio but it was too windy to sit outside today, so they all hang out inside in the connected kitchen and living room area. Fanboy, Phoenix and Payback were fighting over which set of movies watch next on the flat screen Tv while Coyote and Bob was helping Rooster fixing the front windows that seemed to go scratched from week…let’s just say it no more playing inside.

JenPen was putting away groceries that they brought earlier while Hangman was sipping a beer in the kitchen island nearby one of the stools, plugging in everyone phones to charge.

“Hey, what time is Angel coming back home?” Jake asked using Amber’s nickname instead as he glances at his Instagram account.

“Why? You miss your girlfriend?” Jen teased the pilot, grabbing a bite of the freshly washed grapes left on the kitchen counter.

“Wha—No! I mean yeah, of course I do, Miss Bradshaw.”

“Mitchell—Bradshaw, actually. When I do get married, I might keep my last name.”

“Pfff, Bradshaw is too much a chicken to finally find a ring and propose to you.”

“Be nice, you’ll be Uncle Hangman one day you will have to be on your best behavior.”

Jake laughed at the nickname and rolled his eyes, “What you doing this weekend?”

“Uhh, I got to study the metrics for a few planes and might just wash my hair afterwards.” Jen said with a simple shrug and smile.

•

After a while, Coyote and Bob took a break from helping Bradley with the window. Javy went to wash his hands in the kitchen while Bob headed to the bathroom upstairs to wash his face. While Javy was drying off his hands, he heard a light ping coming from the section of phones being charged.

Coyote raised an eyebrow, checking to see who’s phone it was exactly. He flipped though the phones and lightly tapping each other curiously until another message came in. It was Bob’s phone.

You could’ve sworn Javy did a double take as he saw the message, the poor man’s jaw dropped. The message first being a photo dump of the beautifully made sky outside and the new message said ‘Hey darling! How are you?💘’

“Huh?” Javy muttered, he tries not to be curious about his friends business because everyone tends to be somewhat open with a lot of things. But this caught his eyes since he never heard of Bob Floyd having a lady. He read the caller ID and continued, “Who’s Nurse Anna?!”

Javy’s yell caught everyone in the room’s attention, all faces whipped around towards the tall man in confusion. Everyone expect Phoenix who was sorta listening but too busy texting Lieutenant Magnet Kenner about god knows what. Rooster was sitting next to his girlfriend messaging her tired shoulders as he asked, “Uh, what?”

“Who’s Nurse Anna?!” Coyote repeated again as if it was obvious the first time he questioned the name.

“Uh context please, pal..” Said Payback turning his head from the couch to look at him.

“I was drying my hands after helping Roo with the windows and I heard a ping coming from one of the phones. So I went to check who’s phone it was and guess who’s phone it was?”

“Who’s?”

“Bob’s!”

“Relax, it’s probably a friend of his from work.”

“A friend? Oh really?! A friend who’s a nurse…?”

“Uhh yeah…”

Fanboy stood up from the flooring in the living room to see the messenger ID on Bob’s phone lock-screen. Later on another message popped up from Nurse Anna saying 'Change of plans I might not be free Friday but we can definitely do Saturday instead 💞'.

Mickey smiled and let out a small chuckle reading it out loud, “Uhh I don’t know Ruben, the contact on the ID says Nurse Anna with a blue heart emoji! She called him ‘Darling’ in the two messages she sent to Bob. She asked about meeting up on Saturday and added a few love emojis too! I don’t think it’s a normal friend from work kinda thing…”

Coyote joked, “What? You think they’re just hooking up?! Like a causal hook up? Gahhhh no, that’s not Bob’s thing, last time I checked.”

The trio kept arguing on who is this Nurse Anna girl was and acting like they were trying to decipher a mystery case. JenPen added in a few jokes about how ridiculous they were acting, however she was just as curious about it all.

Hangman thought it was just a casual weekly hook up between the their friend and some pretty girl or something. The loudly voiced conversation kept going on for more than two minutes as all the Daggers expect Phoenix, who was just watching all of them discuss the matter at hand.

Little did they all know Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd was upstairs, standing in the hallway near the staircase hearing everyone, trying his hardest not to laugh.

•

Rooster eyebrows bounced motion and laughed as he exclaimed, “Damn! Well it looks to me that our WSO has himself a little girlfriend.”

Hangman was sipping his second beer as his mind was clearly in space. Soon enough his eyebrows popped up and he almost spit out his drink coughing, “BABY ON BOARD HAS A WHAT—?!”

“Awww he fell for a nurse.” Jen says in pure awe how Bob was probably in love, leaning into Bradley’s warm touch on her shoulders.

“I’m still on the part where Bradshaw said GIRLFRIEND!” Hangman said chuckling and coughing a bit.

“I think it’s cute.” Fanboy replies with a smile, “And she sounds super sweet!”

•

The conversation contained so much energy and no one noticed that Bob was gone, since they more focused on the mysterious lady.

Fanboy thinks she’s blonde with green eyes, Hangman thinks she’s gotta be a redhead with green eyes, Ruben believed she was a nurse on base for the longest time, JenPen guessed that she must’ve been one of the most talented nurses in school and Coyote had a gut feeling Bob met her months before they all returned to Top Gun for that mission.

Rooster was curious as he stated his questions to the group, “Who can she be? I never heard a nurse named Anna...or so I think?”

“I bet she’s hot! Like super hot!” Hangman said grinning as Coyotes chuckles slapping his shoulder mutter for him to shut up.

Ruben turned to Phoenix smiling, “Your awfully quiet, anything you’ll like to share with the class?”

Phoenix looked up from her phone confused, “What do you mean? Just because Bob and I fly together doesn’t mean I know everything about ‘em, he probably met her one day before we all met at the bar or something. Last time I checked nurses need a night off to have fun too.”

“Your sure about that? Phoenix you fly and eat together, you share teaching tips together. Also you guys even shared a life or death experience together with all of us. I feel like you know something!”

“Well I-”

Suddenly they all heard footsteps and the room went silent, some of them noticing their teammate walking into the living room. They all waited and looked around as if they were just caught in the act of a horrible prank.

•

“Phoenix doesn’t know because she was passed out in a hospital bed in another room, when it happened.” Said the voice of the man who’s phone started all of this with a soft smile. Bob stood there leaning against the wall fixing his glasses and trying not to laugh at their faces. Especially Natasha’s confused one.

Everyone turned to Bob in shock and motioned for him to continue. He said, “Well, after the whole bird strike that went down that same day, Phoenix and I was sent the to the med bay, when I met her. I woke up, less than half an hour after it happened, doctors came and checked on me. Then Anna walked in…she came in with extra blankets and check on my IV, to see if I needed anything…”

“And?” Phoenix asked, waving her hand gently as if to cue in that she wanted more information about this.

“She was pretty. I didn’t have my glasses on and I've just woken up with a headache, so my vision I was still slightly blurry, but I could tell she was absolutely stunning dressed in her blue scrubs and her brown hair that was in a ponytail…and she was very kind.”

Hangman smiled, “That’s her job, Bob, to be kind and treat patients well, for they can try and get better.”

Rooster looked up glaring at his blonde savior, “Who’s telling the story? Him or you?”

“Him duh!”

“Then let him tell it, Bagman!”

“Yikes..sorry, Floyd continues please, she sounds pretty nice.”

Bob smiled laughing softly and continued, “Because she is! Gentle and passionate too. She stayed with me for a while, asked how I was doing at the moment and what is my job in the Navy. Uh, eventually we started talking about movies and music, and then before she left to go see other patients..I asked her out, telling her once I got out the hospital and could be finished with our missions, I would like to take her to a nice restaurant…”

JenPen smiled listening as she heard Fanboy asking, “She called you darling? How long have you two been going out?”

“Oh no! She calls every single one of her patients darling or dear but for me darling just stuck I guess. I call her doll or honey, sometimes sweetie.” Bob said the last few nicknames with a laced dreamy smile as if thinking about his lady.

“You didn’t answer Fanboy’s questions though! How long?! I gotta—” JenPen asked but was cut off with a hand covering her mouth.

Rooster had his hand covering his girlfriend’s mouth snickering and looked up at Bob smiling, “Go on. She’s quiet now.”

Once again Bob laughed shaking his head and went on explaining, “We’ve only being seeing each other for 8 weeks more or less, with our busy schedules and all. I wanted to keep our relationship a secret for a while. You know, just the two of you and see where it goes."

Coyote rubbed the back of his neck chuckling awkwardly, "And I let it slip..I'm sorry man, I didn't know and you know I can get a little nuts sometimes."

"It's perfectly fine, I was expecting for you guys to find out eventually this month or so. Actually glad it wasn't Jake."

Hangman looked up with his eyes widen offended and gasped somewhat loudly, "WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN-?!"

"You would've texted Javy! Better yet, you would've called Amber then she would've told the all ladies!"

"I wasn't going to do that!"

"Oh really?"

Bob pointed to the iPhone in Jake's hand brightly lit as his fingers were on paused. Robert asked, "Who were you texting, Hangman?"

"No one." Jake exclaimed quickly, closing the messages that he was sending to his girlfriend and throws his phone on the couch. Everyone's eyes darted to the iPhone that showed messages from Amber popping up like crazy.

"You were saying.."

"Shit."

All the group could do was laugh and roll they’re eyes at this point from seeing the scene play out. Truly none of them were sad or annoyed Bob for keeping such a darling secret, it’s his life and he should be able to keep such good things to himself, of course when JenPen and Bradley did say that when Bob and his lady were ready they would love to meet her one day. Bob appreciated the welcoming ideas and support he’s getting as he went on to actually reply to Nurse Anna’s text messages knowing she might be busy but 100% checking her phone waiting for a reply soon.

Coyote kept apologizing for spoiling that little surprise even though no one was really mad at him or anything, as Fanboy and Payback sending all the good thing to their teammate’s way. As for Phoenix, she was very much happy but a little disappointed in herself for not finding out sooner or at least pick up the clues firsthand.

If your wondering about Hangman, he left the gang early to pick up his lady and well this happened…

Jake sat in the car, opening the door seeing Amber as he grinned like an idiot bursting to tell her everything that happened today. And once Amber climbed into her seat grinning and buckled in her seatbelt she said, “Ok, oh my god. Tell me everything!”

“Yes!” Jake shouted as he buckled in his own seatbelt, “Baby on board has a girlfriend! I was like ‘What? That’s crazy?!’ I didn’t believe it, but from what I heard she’s really pretty cute and she’s a nurse.”

“Ugh! Why is it that the day I have to work, is that day all the good things happen? Let me guess, you found out!”

Hangman snickered, “Nope!”

“Then who?”

“Coyote.”

“What?!” Amber gasp laughing.

Let’s just say the rest of the ride home was full of gossip and laughter from that one single car. The rest of day went as follows, Coyote and Payback went out to keep helping Rooster with the broken window, Fanboy and Bob chatting about their day and future relationships, while Phoenix and JenPen were ordering stuff on Amazon as they fixed up a few things around the house.

Thank you for reading this story and I really hope you liked it! 💙

Tags: @t-nd-rfoot @gaminggirlsstuff @theloveoftoms @rooster-84 @happilycameron @mandylove1000 @topgun-imagines @levijeanqueen @drspencereidhotch @fanboygarcia @starkleila @msrochelleromanofffelton @gcthvile and etc

[purplemang0z]

Drew the two of them!! 💕💕💕💕

Idk why I was in a romantic mood (probably cause of my nonexistent love life XD)

Reblogs are appreciated :]

[theweirderstuffblogdontlook]

Decided to also make a copy of the fanfic on here as well as the one on Ao3 to help keep the chronological order post accurate. This fic shows how Bob and Caprica met. Trigger warnings: gore, cannibalism, manipulation, possession, kidnapping, murder, Can be considered a sequel to this fic if you could use more context

How Bob Came Back From the Dead: https://www.tumblr.com/theweirderstuffblogdontlook/710347084133498880/wrote-another-fanfic-chunk-for-my-bob-velseb-au?source=share

Put the fic below a readmore cus it is a long one yall! lemme know what ya think

It had been probably the worst experience of his life thus far, but after a considerable slog he had made it from the gorge in the forest he had woken up in, back to civilization.

He'd hadn't had to walk the whole way, a hunter driving a rusty pickup truck had spotted him shambling pitifully alongside the road covered in grime and clothes torn up to hell. And had pulled over, saying something about how he assumed Bob must have been a survivor of a car accident. 

Bob had sliced the man's throat soon as he got close, and then gave a few extra stabs for good measure.

Knowing that consuming human flesh could speed up his healing, he had desperately torn into the man.

Only to immediately regret it, as with the first hunk of flesh he swallowed, he could feel the delicate, barely formed organs inside him rupture with a pain best described like he had swallowed the spinning blade of a blender.

And without the pain dampening powers of his previous amulet, it had been enough to make him double over and collapse,  further worsening the pain of all the other poorly healed injuries from his recent death, autopsy, and getting thrown off a cliff.

Bob not bothering to try and stop the flow of tears and pained sobs as he curled up in pain on the ground.

Still feeling the lump of meat he had swallowed floating like a foreign object inside him.

It had been clear something had been horribly wrong with him internally ever since he had woken up in the gorge, but it only now had dawned on him just how bad it was. 

His stomach was more like a large water balloon full of jelly in his midsection. Being able to be pressed in past where his organs should have been. Even being able to feel the location of his spine from pressing on his midsection it was so empty. And feeling it sloshing with fluid with every clumsy movement.

And it had been made clear, he literally didn't have the internal organs necessary to digest meat properly.

But he still needed physical materials to let the supernatural healing that had resurrected him also rebuild his body.

So he hoped liquid would be easier to consume.

He slit the guys wrists and tried to drain whatever blood hadn't yet leaked out of the corpse. Then sliced open the man's torso, and cut out a few of the softer organs that could be mashed into a paste in his hands before shoved in his face.

It was still painful, but the fluids were more able to diffuse into the space where his organs should have been, and a feeling of familiar warmth let him know the sped up healing was working.

After awhile, he had taken the keys from the hunters pocket and driven the man's truck, too delirious with pain and unbearable discomfort to really even know where he was going, just trying to stay in the lines on the road.

He'd ended up driving the truck off the road into a ditch not too long after, having passed out in the driver's seat. 

But it had gotten him just close enough to town to find a condemned house to hide in. 

Though it also made him aware he had gone in the wrong direction. 

His home town was south of the forest, he'd gone north, to the town on the other side of the forest.

Which could potentially be a good choice, as people would be less likely to immediately recognize him. But he was also in unfamiliar territory, in a town not so much under the cult's thumb. With the local law enforcement probably not being so deliberately underfunded and understaffed.

He would have to be extra careful to stay out of sight till he recovered.

Though it wasn't as if he didn't feel paranoid enough already.

His body was sooooo messed up. Still without fully functioning organs, and with a body temperature barely above room temperature. Even though the supernatural goop kept him from actively dying, his body's alarm bells that death was imminent just wouldn't stop ringing. 

With probably the hardest to ignore being the sense of impending doom, a symptom usually associated with sudden heart failure. 

With the sensation of terrible but certain dread that he may drop dead at any moment, getting broken up only by what could best be described as extremely tired panic attacks.

After collapsing and about an hour of agony writhing pitifully on the ground, he was able to pass out again in the abandoned house.

Waking up again hours later to a racoon chewing experimentally on his hand.

The racoon squealed and thrashed as he snatched it. Bob fixing it with a bleary, bloodshot gaze as he considered his options. 

He was more lucid than when he had collapsed, but just existing right now was still agony for him. He was nowhere near fully healed. 

And eating a raw racoon didn't seem too palatable to him, but he needs physical material to heal. 

So clenching his hand around the raccoons neck, it's screeching stopped, and with a snap of its neck, the thrashing stopped too.

With some effort, he rolled onto his back, grabbed his knife with his other hand, and sliced open the raccoons neck. Holding it over his open mouth to let the blood drain into it.

Letting the raccoon and the arm holding it fall to his side limply once it stopped dripping, and taking a few deep breaths. His lungs seeming like the only part of him that was functioning properly right now.

Bob not bothering to wipe off the few droplets of blood on his face that had missed his mouth as he stared at the ceiling.

He then reached into his pocket, and pulled out the amulet he'd picked up earlier.

Experimentally separating the two halves with his thumb, then clicking them back together.

Supposedly, this thing would let him take control of someone. Wear their body like a costume or something like that.

He had overheard a number of cult members gossiping about their experiences with using these things, talking about em like something out of a spy thriller paperback.

He was wishing now though, that he'd paid closer attention to the details. 

But the idea of taking control of someone seemed like it could come in handy right about now. 

Have someone be able to go out without drawing any suspicion, get him painkillers and food without him having to move himself.

But he'd never actually used one of these amulets before. 

He knew the jist of it, top half gets used by him, bottom half goes on who he's controlling, but he’d need to experiment to really figure it out.

And that meant he'd have to actually kidnap a living person and keep them somewhere private.

The effort of actually doing that though… in his current state?

His heart sunk with dread with the question if he could actually pull it off. 

But not being able to think of a better option, he let off a bitter huff, and sat up, then carefully got to his feet. 

Feeling an unsettling popping sensation as the motion tore delicate connective tissues that had healed in his empty abdomen. Though thankfully, there wasn't any pain receptors there to feel that part fully.

Though there were more than enough injuries across the rest of his body to make up for it.

He slowly limped around the condemned house, looking for anything useful. 

Finding a length of cord probably left behind by a moving company, along with some dusty fabric. 

Should be enough to bind and gag someone.

He limps out the door, intent on catching the first person he sees and dragging them back to the condemned house, or a closer secluded location if possible.

Buuuuttttt that quickly proves unfeasible.

The first person he sees screams and sprints away, as does the second.

And getting a glimpse of himself in the reflective surface of a parked car, it's clear why. 

He looked horrifying.

Covered in blood and grime, crazy bloodshot eyes with glowing blue pupils, half mangled costume, even frothing slightly at the mouth. 

He looked like a rabid walking dead.

Which wouldn't be too much of a problem, (not counting the psychological damage it was doing to him seeing himself like this) if he could actually chase after the people who ran. 

As is, even his current limping shuffle felt like he was pushing way past his limits.

He'd have to sneak up on people if he were to ever hope of actually catching anyone. 

And maybe if he didn't stick out so much, he'd have a better chance of pulling that off. 

Though the sun was starting to set, so maybe he could just use the cover of darkness as his disguise.

He spots what looks like a public park off to the side, seeing empty playground equipment through a line of trees. 

He shifts his shuffles trajectory in that direction.

The park being thankfully sparse of people to notice him. As while he needed to get someone close enough to grab, weak as he was right now, more than one or two people working together might be enough to overpower him. Or at least be enough to alert the authorities before he could get them all with his knives.

He narrows his focus further when he sees his target. 

A public bathroom. And even more good luck, a private disability/family toilet.

He locks himself in his new temporary haven.

Running water, a mirror, soap, and paper towels.

He hadn't realized how dehydrated he was until he was gulping down water from the sink like his life depended on it.

Feeling a bit of strength return to his limbs. And looking at his face, he could see a bit of fullness return to his sunken features.

Fuck, had his whole body been like a deflated balloon? Bodies aren't supposed to work like this.

But he didn't even have a stomach that could churn at the realization of how many unexpected unnatural experiences he was going through with the supernatural life support keeping him alive.

He missed his old amulet so much. It kept so much more of a lid on the negative physical reactions. 

He could just get back up from injuries like hardly anything happened.

But now it was more just like he simply wouldn't die no matter how much agony he was in.

With fumbling fingers, he took the amulet out of his pocket, shoved it under his tattered sweater and grime covered shirt, and pressed it against his chest until it hurt. He was mostly still running on resurrection goop the cult had doused him with, but all the different kinds of amulets the cult made had at least a little healing abilities to them. 

And he needed it so badly.

Bracing himself against the sink, he has to take a moment for another unflattering panic attack.

Though now that he wasn't so dehydrated, his sobbing could now be coupled with much more copious tears.

He's interrupted though as his forehead hits with a distressing smack on the porcelain sink, snapping him out of what must have been another fainting spell.

He tries to steady himself, putting the amulets back in his pocket, and looks at himself again in the mirror.

Get cleaned up, sneak up close to people before they can think to run…. Right…

He starts ripping off the mangled bits of his devil costume, discarding them on the ground beside the sink.

And using the hand soap out of the dispenser, he starts using it to clean himself off.

Makeup, blood, mud, miscellaneous grime.

Taking off his sweater and putting it in the sink, plugging the drain enough to start filling the sink with water and rinse the sweater too.

Though he pauses for a second to inspect himself in the mirror once his sweater was off. 

Looking from the mirror, to his bare forearm, down at his chest and undershirt, then back at the mirror.

He takes off the undershirt as well for good measure, and takes another look.

Oh man, he did not look good. He barely recognized himself, and not just cus of the big T shaped scar, or the bullet wounds, or all the grime. Given time to heal, the autopsy scar and bullet wounds would fade away. And the grime was one rinse away from being gone.

No, what messed him up, was how thin he'd become in what felt like a single afternoon.

See, the supernatural healing was miraculous for sure, but it couldn't make something out of nothing.

So it had been rebuilding the necessary for survival parts of Bob, out of the parts that weren't necessary to survive.

Dude had lost what must have been over half his bulk. Not just fat, but muscle too.

He didn't think he'd ever been this thin in his entire adult life.

He questions briefly if he could consider it like a good thing. Would this be considered a more attractive physique?

…it didn't feel like it. And he wasn't looking to date anyway so why should he care if people found him more or less attractive.

He just felt sick and hurt everywhere and his skin felt thin and delicate and ashen from the severe anemia and he didn't have the big muscles in his shoulders he'd once been proud of. 

And he could feel the space where his old amulet had been surgically grafted into his chest with a worrying emptiness.

His old amulet had let him have his bones shattered by a car, and get back up a few seconds later like nothing had happened.

But his old amulet must have been destroyed by the cult in order to resurrect him. There was no getting it back despite how much he missed it right now.

But the thought that the supernatural healing had dissolved so much of his excess body mass, and yet had still left him in this bad of shape? It made his current situation feel all the more dire.

And it made him wish he could move faster to fix things. 

Who knew how long he had left before his time ran out and the healing stopped being able to keep his head above water, and he'd just collapse in a heap and die a second time?

No, he can't think about that right now. Not another panic attack. Gotta keep moving.

Looking at himself again, he was tempted to ditch getting cleaned up and put his big red sweater back on so he wouldn't have to keep looking at how different his body was. 

But that wouldn't get him closer to being fixed. Gotta get presentable enough to get close to someone without them running away.

After rinsing it off, Bob started using his undershirt like a washcloth to better scrub off the grime. 

Formerly a plain white shirt, now more like a red-brown tattered rag with sleeves from how blood stained and full of bullet holes it was. 

He pauses for a moment as he rubs his thumb over a round burn mark in the fabric, bitterly remembering getting slapped in the stomach with a hot pan full of bacon.

Right…. He'd failed this Halloween too. Hadn't gotten Lila or her little skeleton kid.

Though if he doesn't recover from his current state, he won't be getting another chance, so he tries to keep focused on his current task.

Using the hand soap like shampoo, he tries to get some of the slime out of his hair. He also finds with some distress, more hair coming off his head than he'd been expecting. Big clumps of it.

He hoped it wasn't male pattern baldness catching up to him, and was just a side effect of coming back from the dead.

But either way, better bald than dead. Don't think about it.

After a bit, he was definitely looking more presentable. But the effort of moving his arms and keeping himself standing was catching up to him.

So, getting close to his limit, he slumped to the ground beside the sink, panting heavily to try and catch his breath, as the sink overflowed with water thanks to his red sweater blocking the drain. 

He adjusted his angle to lean his head on the sink, letting some of the running water drip over his head and shoulders.

Felt kinda nice, getting some more of the lingering soap off himself that the washcloth shirt hadn't done a good job with.

Taking a moment to rest his eyes.

He's awoken by a knock at the door and a shout of 

"Hello? Anyone in there? Hello?"

His attention spikes, now's his chance! He just has to open the door and grab whoever that is!

He tries to get to his feet, feeling a thin layer of water on the floor around him from the still overflowing sink.

Great, he'd been sitting in public bathroom floor water for who knows how long.

He groans and strains to try and get to his feet, but the floor is slippery, and frankly he should probably be in a hospital instead of walking.

And before he can get his legs under him, the voice says in a grumpy tone,

"Guess it'll be the morning shifts problem."

And Bob let's off a small whiny, 

"nooooooo…"

Still struggling to get up.

By the time he's able to open the door, he sees a golf cart full of cleaning and landscaping equipment driving off.

Another opportunity missed.

Although good news, it seemed now he could at least pretend not to limp. 

Guess the leg that got mangled when his lifeless corpse was dumped in the ravine had a chance to heal more while he was passed out.

Still, night had fallen, so it was time to try and find another target.

Shuffling back to grab his sweater out of the sink, he wrings it out and puts it on. Still pretty damp, but the red wool hid all the stains and bullet holes much better than his undershirt. And he was in such severe and pronounced discomfort, being cold and wet barely registered over everything else wrong with him, at least for now.

Looking at his reflection one last time, he still looked pretty ill, but his eyes weren't so bloodshot anymore, and his pupils had stopped glowing. He probably wouldn't raise too much suspicion if seen from a distance, or even up close while obscured by shadows.

He hid the lower half of his face in his turtleneck and limped out into the darkness of the park.

Getting his bearings for a moment, before he left the direct glow of the streetlights to lurk in the shadows along the trees and bushes.

Despite it being dark out, it seems like activity had actually picked up a bit since he had arrived. 

Though that wasn't too surprising actually. It had to be November by now, (though he didn't know the specific number of days it had been since Halloween) and since the sun sets early in the fall/winter. Could be as early as 6:30 or so, with people going to the park after having their dinner.

Still, he spots a few people biking (aka, too fast for him to chase)

Few friends or couples on benches (aka, witnesses who could scream before he could kill the spares and snatch one to take)

And some parents with kids (once again, witnesses who could sound the alarm).

Though looking around, there were a few people on their own too.

He'd tried and comically failed to snatch a speedwalker, who hadn't even noticed his clumsy attempt thanks to their headphones. And he felt too embarrassed to immediately try it again with the next person who walked by. 

So he shuffled on morosely, looking for hopefully an even easier target.

He spots someone sitting alone on a bench, a bit aways from the playground. And as he gets closer, he can make out more detail.

At first he thinks it might be a teenager messing with their smartphone, but as he gets closer, he can make out a collared button up shirt and work pants with a professional looking messenger bag beside them.

So must just be an especially short pencil pushing office worker.

He moves to come at them from behind. Though his earlier fuck up with the power walker makes him a bit anxious about being able to not fuck this one up too, so he decides to do a little sleuthing first to make sure he was making the right choice.

"Hey… anyone else sitting here?"

His target turns to look at him suspiciously for a moment, before responding,

"No, it's all yours. I can move to the next one."

As they started packing up their things.

And seeing their face and tone of voice… Oh, guess it's a woman. 

He'd kinda thought it was a short guy cus of the short hair and more masculine office worker clothes outfit.

And man, they looked even shorter up close. He should have no problem kidnapping a tiny woman like this. She probably barely weighs anything.

Bob fell into his old customer service habits, putting on a warmer tone of voice and waving his hand.

"Nawh, don't get up on acountta little ol me. I don't mean to scare ya off, my feet are jus killin me."

"It's really no trouble."

She responds, though she keeps packing up as Bob moves to the front of the bench, clearly not intending to sit down with him. Though she pauses as she hears a squelchy sort of noise as Bob takes a few steps, and she looks him up and down.

Before bluntly asking,

"Why are you so wet?"

He splutters a bit and tries to think up an excuse, settling on

"I uhhhhhh… fell in the pond?"

She looks behind her at the pond a bit in the distance, then back at Bob.

"Dude, basically all the ponds at public parks like this are fetid swamps full of duck poop, don't be trying to sit next to people if you're covered in pond water.

"Well, uhhhh… to be fair, I did rinse off in the bathroom."

Bob trying and failing to not sound suspicious.

She fixes Bob with a pretty severe looking judgemental stare, before letting out a sigh, standing up straight, and rubbing her eyes in frustration as she says,

"I've got a few emergency towels in my car, do you want to borrow them so you don't freeze and get the flu before you can get home?"

A towel would actually be pretty great right now. He'd kinda been able to ignore his temperature up until being reminded of it, but it's clear his body temperature still was way below the normal body temperature of a living human. And the autumn chill was not helping things.

Still, stay on target. This woman is like less than half his size, if there's anyone he should be able to overpower right now, it should be this lady.

Just one last thing to check.

"Much obliged mam'. But aren't ya lookin after any of those kids there?"

He points over at the nearby playground.

"Hmm? No. I don't have any kids or anything. Now you can wait here, and I can go grab a towel. Unless you need to call someone to come pick you up or anything first?"

She's here alone, no witnesses, perfect.

He lunges, cupping a hand over her mouth to muffle any yelling, and wrapping an arm around her arms to press her kicking and struggling form against his chest and stomach as he backpedals out of the range of the street lamps glow, pressing through some bushes to further obscure them from the path.

He staggers slightly, trying to keep his balance despite his injuries and the thrashing of the woman. But he startles when she bites down hard on his hand, and he loses his balance completely after she swings back her heel to kick him in the groin.

His bad leg is the first to give out as he doubles over, and he falls hard and lopsided onto one shoulder. 

Bob feeling that popping sensation again as a bunch of barely healed internal structures in his torso were snapped from the impact of the fall.

And was it possible for ribs to be dislocated? Because it sure felt like something like that had happened to Bob. 

He doesn't have time to react to the pain though as his hostage quickly squirms free, and a bunch of fluid hits the back of Bobs throat and sinuses. Not burning like stomach acid, but instead tasting faintly of blood and plasma.

He swallowed thickly, struggling to keep it all down, and reached out to snatch the ankle of the woman with a vice grip before she could scamper fully out of reach, causing her to hit the ground from the momentum.

He shifts to try and get his other hand free to grab her with, while trying no to puke from the jostling.

Last thing he needs right now is to vomit up all the stuff keeping his torso from being just an empty cavity of half formed organs. 

But as he gets a bit more upright so gravity could help keep the fluids down, and coughs to try and clear some fluid that had leaked over to his lungs, the woman flipped around to kick him square in the face, blurring his vision, and with another kick to the face, he was seeing stars and leaking what was probably blood from his nose.

Damn it, he literally can't afford to bleed right now!

A sharp yank to pull the woman closer, and he's able to pin her under one knee. Making it hard for her to breathe under his weight, though she kept snarling and trying to bite and claw him anyway.

So he first pulled out the rag from earlier to gag her, before pinning her more to get her hands and feet to hogtie her.

After a short moment to catch his breath, he stands, still panting with the effort, and  picks her up under one arm.

But even bound and gagged she wouldn't quit thrashing, so despite being so light weight for a person she was still unwieldy to hold. 

Chastising her in a hushed, half whispered tone, Bob said

" Hey quitchur squirmin !"

But she just fixed him with a furious glare at that, and started to headbutt his arm while trying to chew through her gag and growling.

Bob looks around with concern. He didn't want to cause too much damage to his target, since he assumed that could get in the way of puppeting their body. 

But this one might be more trouble than they're worth.

"Maybe I should try someone else…"

He glances back at the still struggling woman under his arm, brow still knitted with worry, and with one finger he hooks around the gag he had tied around her head and pulls it down so she could speak.

Earning him a loud, vicious, murderous shout of

"I'M GONNA RIP OUT YOUR JUGULAR VEIN WITH MY TEETH YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!"

Bob pauses to process the threat for a second, then one of his big signature smiles cracks across his face. He pulls the gag back over her mouth.

He shifts her under one arm a bit for comfort, then with his free hand, pulls out his knife from his butcher belt, and holds it up to her neck.

"Either you quit squirmin, or you're the one who's gonna be bleedin out. Got it?"

Her eyes widened with fear, as her attention shifted between the knife and Bobs face a few times, along with a quick glance around her surroundings, before she made a defeated grumbling sound through the gag, and went more limp in Bobs grip.

Bobs grin got a little wider, and he put the knife away. 

Using both hands to carry his hostage, and trying to keep his steps even and confident rather than a pathetic limp so as not to let on how badly he was doing or encourage any bold behavior.

The way back to the condemned house was slow, but it honestly surprised Bob how close the locations actually were now that he was more lucid. His previous delirious shuffle had made it feel like he'd been walking for miles.

His hostage had stopped squirming since the threat, but since Bob had only brought the one length of cloth, it was either a gag or a blindfold, not both.

And he could tell she was paying full attention to Bob and her surroundings.

Though Bob was confident that so long as he didn't faint and drop her, it didn't matter if she knew the location of his current temporary hideout or not.

It was almost amusing how her gaze would linger on street signs, or on the address numbers of the condemned house as Bob walked up the front porch and through the door, not bothering to close it behind himself.

After all, it was the middle of the night, and the condemned house didn't have any electricity. An open door would let in more moonlight.

Luckily though, Bob had found a battery powered camping lantern left behind among the other junk the previous tenants had left.

So grabbing that, he clicked it on, and walked to an open doorway, leading into the house's basement. Where things would be more muffled in the likely event of a lot of screaming.

The wooden stairs creaked loudly under his weight as Bob tried to take the steps extra carefully, one at a time.

Especially since with his hands full with the lantern and the hostage, he couldn't steady himself with the railing.

He makes it though, a small cloud of dust getting kicked up as his foot touches the solid ground of the basement.

A lot more stuff had been left behind here than upstairs. But nothing particularly of value. 

Old paint cans, shelves of obscure and situational cleaning supplies, busted furniture, some rusted old tools, and a lot of dust.

Setting the lantern down on a workbench, Bob used his free hand to grab the least broken chair he could see and pull it more into the middle of the room. Then grab some more cord to tie with, before setting the hostage down in the chair, and tying them to the chair a bit first, before untying their hands and feet to re-tie them to the chair instead.

Bob then sat on the workbench next to the lantern with a heavy thump. Taking deep breaths to try and avoid panting from the exertion, or otherwise looking vulnerable in front of the hostage.

But apparently he had spent just a bit too long sitting there doing nothing, because the hostage piped up.

It's clear they were trying to enunciate as best they could through the gag, saying

"Whurrrr duuuu ouuuuu uwannn?"

What do you want.

Bob met their gaze, there was a lot of fear in those eyes, despite the clear attempt not to panic the woman was making.

"Did you know, the digestive system will begin to digest itself and the body around it after death?"

She stared at Bob blankly for a moment then seemed to decide that talking to Bob isn't the most productive thing to do right now, and their gaze went back to looking around the room for anything useful. 

Before suddenly realizing something and turning back to Bob. 

Bob had asked a question, and it's probably better if she answers the question.

She nods. 

"Well now, aren't you a clever one?"

Bob teases, albeit in a condescending way. 

Though he had once again phrased it as a question. She pauses for a moment thoughtfully. Then shook her head.

"No? You sayin you ain't clever? You ain't tellin me a fib now are ya?"

She looks more worried. It's clear she didn't know what Bob wanted to hear, so she didn't know how to respond. And after a few fearful, but thoughtful glances around the room, she does a noncommittal shrug. At least as best she could while tied to a chair.

And Bob let's off a low, dark chuckle in response. He then took a moment to examine their expression again.

"You don't know who I am, do you…"

She pauses again, before shaking her head no.

Guess he found one that doesn't watch the news.

"Heh, that might actually make things easier on me."

He slid off the table with a creak from the wood, and reached into his pocket, pulling out the amulet. 

Top half for him, bottom half for the target.

He looked between the amulet and the hostage. Her big attentive eyes fixed firmly on the new thing in his hand. 

Well, moment of truth he supposed. Bob took off his sweater. 

Though him starting to get even this little bit more undressed, it set the hostage into a panic. Yelling through the gag and thrashing to try and get free. And soon trying to scoot the chair backwards to get out of reach of Bob even just a little bit more.

Bob didn't quite get why that had been a thing to set his hostage off, but he didn't really have time to think about it right now. Setting his sweater on the table as he brings the lantern in a bit closer for better light.

"What did I tell ya about squirming."

His expression more stern than anything when telling the hostage off. And she stopped as instructed, though there were now tears streaming down her face.

But there would be time to delight in the misery of others later, for now he needed to focus.

She cringed and turned away as he pulled his knife out and leaned in close to her, not wanting to watch whatever horrible thing he was gonna do to her. Letting off a fearful whine when instead of cutting her, he cut through the top 3 buttons of her dress shirt to open it up a bit over her chest. Though she opened her eyes again through the tears when the knife was withdrawn and stowed away back in Bobs belt. 

And instead he held out the gold thing in his other hand, using his thumb to separate it into two halves with a small click.

He then examined both halves for a moment, also giving the hostage a moment to look them over as a result.

They looked like especially chunky gold jewelry, with a design of smooth and simple shapes, each with a blue-green diamond shape in the middle which seemed to be on both the front and back of the two items. 

They were a slightly different shape from each other. One like a thick crescent moon, and one like a simplified cows head. Or maybe like a legless man with his arms above his head in a triumphant pose. With each of them having a bar going across them, which when fit together made a simple geometric wing shape.

Bob then took the man-shaped one and held it in his teeth like a handyman holding a spare tool. And with his other hand held up the crescent moon shaped one, while his now free hand held open the collar of her shirt to expose part of her chest.

"Now this might sting a bit little meatbag."

She barely has time to make a little fearful questioning noise, before the amulet is pressed against her skin, and holy fuck that thing felt like it was boiling hot !

She tried to stifle a scream of surprise and pain as the thing was kept pressed against her skin, unable to stop from thrashing as it felt like the thing was melting through layers and layers of skin, deeper and deeper until she could swear it was melting through the bone of her ribcage, and Bob gripped a hand over her shoulder to try and keep her more steady as he kept pressing on the amulet.

Once it was fully beneath the skin, the burning stopped and Bob took his hand off her chest. The hostage taking big gasping breaths, before she looked down at her chest, only to see a thin line just under her collar bones on otherwise unblemished skin.

And her expression said what her gagged mouth couldn't fully articulate.

What the fuck!!?? What the fuck!!?? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT??!!??!!

Bob was still watching closely, with an analytic squint.

Looked like that one worked, now it was his turn.

He took the other half of the amulet out from between his teeth, and pressed it against his own chest, still keeping his other hand on her shoulder.

And she watched with some horror as the other half of the amulet steamed slightly against his skin, then started to sink into his chest. Though Bob didn't so much as flinch, which made her all the more intimidated at what the pain tolerance on this man must be to pull that off.

Bob then pulled back, standing up straight instead of leaning over his hostage.

And ran a few fingers over the mark on his chest. Looks like he's got them put on.

Now to figure out how they work.

He's supposed to be able to put this lady on like a costume and control their body from the inside, but what that entailed, Bob didn't exactly know. He'd never seen it in action before.

The hostage was still freaking out over what had happened, as one would expect. And then proceeded to freak out even more when Bob reached out to touch them.

But not half as much as they started to panic when Bob's hand absorbed into her skin like he was sticking it into a body of water.

At the contact, Bob felt something electric hit his brain, before a sensation started to spread through his mind.

Fear.

Panic.

Confusion.

Bob recoiled. Pulling his hand out.

Shit! Why was he suddenly afraid!! Sinking his hand into a person was weird, but it wasn't that scary! 

Shit shit shit this is gonna set off another panic attack, he can't have a breakdown in front of one of his victims, they're supposed to be afraid of him. And he can't risk someone taking advantage of his current fragility.

He took a few cautious steps back, then slowly walked to the stairway, then up and out of the basement. 

Only at the top did he suddenly clutch his chest and start hyperventilating, bracing his back against the wall beside the stairway and sliding down into a seating position as he tried to calm down before the strain on his weakened body would make him faint.

And as he calms down and better gets his bearings, he realizes what just happened.

Oh wow… 

He pulled back mentally, and it's like the fear shut off. He leaned back in, and he could feel it again. It wasn't his fear, it was the hostage.

He leaned back in, further this time.

He could feel a different heartbeat ringing in his ears, out of rhythm with his own. He could feel arm muscles straining against bindings and the tough and angular wood of a chair, and….

Their arms didn't hurt nearly as much as his. He could feel them strain against the bindings. But under the bindings the body parts were… healthy.

Their bones didn't feel cracked or misaligned. Their skin didn't feel cold and clammy. They didn't feel a constant underlying nausea in their throat. Their torso felt firm and whole.Their mind didn't feel like it was pushing through a heavy fog to comprehend the world around it.

He let off an awestruck sigh as he relaxed against the wall further, losing himself slightly in the feeling of just not being himself for a moment, although the pain of his broken body kept him from becoming completely untethered in the sensation of being someone else. 

Though he sat there chasing the feeling for a good while.

He'd lived a life of feeding his dark impulses in pursuit of his own pleasures, but in that moment, he didn't think there was anything in the world he wanted more right now than to have more of whatever this was.

More of his pain eased, and more of feeling… Bigger? More? 

He could feel the hand of the woman he had captured downstairs, she was fidgeting with the cord he had tied her up with, trying to find the end of it to perhaps loosen her bindings and get free.

He raised his own hand, looking at it, and flexing and clenching his fist a few times. He then raised his other hand and did the same.

Two hands, but if he focused on the meatbag downstairs…

Three hands? Four hands?

It had bothered him how much bulk he had lost in recovering from being dead.

Did that bother him as much now?

He closed his eyes and mentally leaned in on the connection hard as he could, and flexed his hands again experimentally.

His mind struggled to parse the added stimulus the mental link was putting in his head. But feeling smaller and more frail was not one of those sensations.

It was all very uncanny, but not unpleasant.

His gaze turned back to the stairway down to the basement. And a thought occurs to him.

There's more of this feeling downstairs.

He's snapped out of the slightly trance-like state he had been stewing in when he felt the screams of pain and discomfort from his body at the motion of trying to stand up. Having to brace against the wall to help him to his feet, and once standing he started heading carefully back down the stairway.

A unsettling grin splits across his face as he meets the gaze of the hostage, causing her to freeze in fear, ceasing her struggling to get out of her bonds, as Bob's heavy footfalls get closer.

His smile wide and eyes manic as he leans in closer and says with a sinister tone.

" Lemme in ."

She screeches as Bob puts a hand on each shoulder, and sinks in his arms up to the elbows. His smile gets a little bit wider, as it seems like physical contact increases the clarity of the connection a little bit. 

And the pain in his hands, he couldn't feel it. 

Couldn't feel his hands either, but pulling a hand back out, everything came back like nothing had happened.

He put one hand on the chair instead to brace himself as he brought a leg up, and pressed his knee into the top of her thigh. Seemed like the pants didn't get in the way as his leg sunk in and disappeared.

Bob let off a big sigh of relief as the pain of his bad leg disappeared. Chair groaning from his added weight as he leaned more on the lap of the still panicking woman.

Though the added weight suddenly tipped the chair off balance, causing them both to fall backwards, knocking the wind out of the hostage both from hitting the ground, and the weight of Bob initially hitting their chest, before quickly sinking in like he was falling through a small, person-shaped gap in the world.

The last thing to go being Bobs hand, which had still been clutching the backrest of the chair. 

Finally letting go of the wood, and letting his arm and hand slowly sink into her like it were sinking into a thick mud.

Her eyes watching it absorb into her with pure horror. Making additional noises of shock and terror though her gag.

Her struggling suddenly stops all at once, and her eyes unfocus, before refocusing with an eerie calm, blinking and looking around the room as if for the first time.

Bob had taken control.

He tried to move her arms and….

Oh right duh, he has just possessed the body of a tied up person. 

So now he was tied up too.

Maybe he could just…..

Her eyes unfocused as her head slumped to the side, like a puppet whose strings had just been cut, and a large hand and arm reached out of her torso.

Feeling around blindly, it then planted its palm on the ground, and the second arm came out and did the same, and with a considerable shove the chair was tipped back up onto its legs.

The eyes of the woman blinked with a slowly refocusing gaze, as if waking up from a nap, while Bob's large pair of arms went about untying the various bindings.

The places where the arms connected to her torso shifting and sliding around as Bob's arms would move to reach the different bindings around her wrists, ankles, and chest. It being clear he could stick parts of himself out from basically anywhere along her torso.

And with everything untied, and before the woman could wake up fully, Bob's arms retracted into her chest and her eyes refocused as Bob retook control.

Leaning forward in the chair, he removed the final bit of binding, the cloth gag, using the woman's own hands. Smacking her lips experimentally at the dusty taste it left behind.

He then held out her hands, flexing the fingers and turning the wrists to see the front and back of the woman's hands. Then turning his attention lower to experimentally rotate the ankle of one of the woman's feet.

Wow… this didn't feel like puppeteering, or like controlling someone from a distance.

It really felt more like he had traded his body for another one. Being able to feel with her skin, smell with her nose, see with her eyes.

And all the pain and discomfort of his old broken body? Gone. It was…. Actually just gone.

Her eyes begin to sting as a few big wet tears start to form, and a wide unnatural smile splits across her face and lets off something halfway between a laugh and a sob.

The pain was gone.

Sure this new body was a bit sore, a bit tired. Some slight bruising around where the chest and limbs had been tied to the chair. Some anxious energy no doubt left over from the previous panic the body had just experienced.

And the work shoes weren’t exactly comfortable, and Bob wasn't too familiar with the sensation of wearing a bra, but…

Freaking hell, he would have killed just to take away a fraction of the pain he had been experiencing moments earlier.

Hell, he literally had killed not too long ago for exactly that purpose.

But this was a whole 'nother level. This was like he'd just flipped a light switch and turned it all off like it was nothing.

The worst pain and discomfort he had yet felt in his life, gone in barely more than an instant.

He hadn't even fully comprehended how much pain he was in before now, what with having almost 2 days to get more accustomed to being essentially a member of the walking dead, but the contrast was flatly staggering.

If he had known it would be this effective, he would have done it the first chance he had. He almost wanted to kick himself for having walked so long with the answer to his problems jangling uselessly in his pants pocket.

He'd been able to just turn it all off this whole time. 

He's…. free.

The overwhelming wave of relief caused the tears to come even faster. 

Bob having to take a few moments to just sit and process everything.

And soon, the possibilities now open to him started to turn the relief into excitement.

He's fixed now! All the stuff he hadn't been able to do moments earlier were now back on the menu baby!

He stood excitedly, a big grin that didn't look like it belonged to the woman plastered on her face, though interrupted as Bob startled slightly at the much lower to the ground perspective of his short hostage.

It almost made Bob feel like he was crouched down as he took a few careful steps.

Still, back on track. First thing, now that he has a functioning stomach, he wants to get some proper food. He considers killing a random bystander for a moment, but when his muscle memory tries to reach for a knife at his belt… there are none.

Right, this is a whole different body, they just have a plain belt and office pants.

His butcher tools must still be on his original body somewhere…. Inside? 

It was pretty convenient that he didn't have to strip any of his clothes to… I guess possess someone is the right term? But right now, getting his knives out would mean sticking himself back out of his little safe haven, and re-experiencing all the pain and discomfort in his empty torso. 

Didn't seem worth the effort.

And looking again at the much smaller and more delicate hands of his host, he further reconsiders jumping straight into the serial killing. Better to get used to things before he tries to take down anyone who might put up much of a fight.

Maybe just get a few burgers or something instead. And after all, he's basically in disguise now, he shouldn't arouse any suspicion in public. He could just walk in wherever and buy something. 

Provided the location is still open at this time of night.

He shouldn't even have to shoplift. Whoever this woman was must have some money on them, right? Or at least a credit card. The woman's office worker attire and clean, well groomed appearance didn't exactly scream broke and homeless. He pats down the legs and turns out the pockets of the office pants.

But finding nothing but an employee ID tag in the pockets, he deflates a little bit, before his mind suddenly snapped to the memory of the messenger bag she'd had when he first found her in the park.

It was still pretty late at night, not much foot traffic to stumble upon misplaced items. So if he heads back to the park, it probably wouldn't be too late to find it!

Excited by his new functional limbs, he trots giddily over to the stairway, though his eye catches on his red sweater on the table.

Oh right, he must have forgotten to put it back on after activating the amulets, what with getting distracted by the panic attack and all.

He goes and picks up the sweater. It feeling both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. What with how huge it now was in proportion to his current body.

Man it felt weird being this small.

But there's no way his sweater would fit him now, it felt almost like a blanket in his arms, and holding it out to inspect and measure it against his hosts torso? It'd fit em like a dress going down to her knees. maybe even a little further.

So instead he rolls it up a bit, then ties it around his waist like how the teens would do with their hoodies.

And with that, he was off. Excitedly taking the stairs two at a time and trotting out the front door, before breaking into a run once he reached the sidewalk. Feeling the painful memory of his previous desperate limping lessen with having regained his freedom to move.

Sure the pants and shoes were not good for running, but he was so numbed to pain and discomfort, that this was like nothing to him in comparison to his current positivity.

What more had him enthralled right now was the novelty of how light his feet felt. 

He was so used to moving with his considerable height and bulk, that moving with about one third of his usual weight felt totally different. Not having each step hit the ground with a thud, he almost felt stealthy, like a ninja or something. 

And he noticed he didn't have to fight with the momentum nearly as much to turn as he changed his trajectory towards the park. This must be what it felt like to be nimble.

A light fog had rolled in, giving the park an eerie appearance with the added glow of the streetlights and the things in the distance slightly obscured. 

Though Bob, still confident in himself being the scariest thing around, is completely unphased at the spooky atmosphere, as he excitedly jogs back to the bench he had snatched the woman from.

His new body could run much more easily than he was used to, but it still wasn’t exactly an athlete or anything. So he takes a moment to catch his breath as he slowed to a stop, then took a look around for witnesses. And finding none, he got back on target.

Now, he had grabbed her in front of the bench, then dragged her behind it and through the bushes.

So if he just retraces his steps and…

Bingo, there it is, caught in the bushes.

After untangling the bag from the branches, he eagerly rummaged through it, looking for a wallet.

Though first, with a curious expression, he comes across a set of car keys.

Oh right! She'd mentioned she had a car, since she offered to get him some towels from it.

And the keyring had a clicker on it too! Score! 

All he'd have to do is go around pressing the lock/unlock button, and whatever car beeps is his new ride.

He shifts the keys to a pocket and continues to rummage until finding a wallet.

It was a large wallet, too large for a pants pocket, but opening it up, it was packed with 20s. 

And man, Bob could already taste all the junk food he could buy with this.

Putting the wallet back in the bag, he pulls out the keyring and gets to searching. Heading towards the nearest parking lot, and quickly finding a small beige 2 door commuter car that responds to the clicker.

….Man, no way could he fit in that dinky little thing. It'd be like trying to get into a clown car, he'd be lucky if his legs could even work the pedals and…..

Oh wait, duh . He forgot. He's small now. This car literally belongs to whoever it is he's possessing right now. Of course they can fit in this bland looking machine you could just tell was built for fuel efficiency and not much else.

He opens the driver's door and takes a seat.

Man, he doesn't even have to adjust the seat back like he usually does when he gets in a car, it's already perfect.

He grins to himself as he sets the bag in the passenger seat and takes a moment to snoop around the car.

He didn't spot anything in the way of fun decorations, seemed like it was nothing but practical stuff like window cleaner, spare water bottle, window shade, ice scraper, umbrella, etc.

Though it was also fairly messy, with smudges on the glass, dust on a number of surfaces, paper trash on the floor, and a bunch of coins in the door and cup holder, but not to a overly uncomfortable degree of mess. 

Like he didn't spot any rotting food or any particularly offensive smells in the vehicle.

Seemed like a pretty boring car for a pretty boring person.

Though having satisfied his curiosity to snoop, he didn't pay much further thought to stuff like playing detective. What kind of person the body he was currently commandeering was like wasn't really a topic he was all that interested in.

Especially not when he's got food on the brain.

Keys in the ignition, and as the engine purrs gently to life (a muscle car, this very much was not), he takes a second to consider what would be open 24 hours that he could swing through. Before he backs the car out and starts prowling the streets for lit fast food signs. Figuring since he has a car now, he could get some drive through. It’s not long before he finds a lit up sign of a 24hour Mickey D's. 

His excitement soon reaching a fever pitch at the thought of actually being able to stomach food again.

Though forgetting once again that it wasn't his stomach he was using, after giddily ordering his usual from the unenthusiastic sounding worker, and then parking nearby.... He starts horking it down before he really even had time to think about it. His considerable pain tolerance letting him ignore as he quickly packs in more food than the small woman's body can handle.

Least until it gets impossible to ignore.

Bob having to sprint out of the car to go puke in a nearby trash can.

And then spend a moment feeling embarrassed for himself while sitting on the curb rinsing the taste outta his mouth with the help of a big soda.

Though he doesn't let it get him down for long, excitedly moving on to the next thing.

He'd been meaning to get some painkillers to deal with things a little better while the supernatural healing did its job fixing him. So that meant finding a pharmacy. Or at least something pharmacy adjacent.

And luckily he finds a place open for about another hour, plenty of time to get in and get out with what he needed. Bit of a general store plus pharmacy situation, so it should have the best stuff he could get his hands on without a prescription. Though he briefly considered robbery as an option to get the more intense stuff from behind the counter, but he quickly dismisses the idea. He doesn’t have much know-how in regards to medicine, so even if he got through the barricade, he probably wouldn't be able to know what he needed, let alone where to find it among all the shelves.

Bob wore a wide grin as he stepped through the sliding doors. It had been awhile since he'd been able to just walk into a place like this. Between 3 years of prison and then a few months on the run, he’d been a bit deprived of normal everyday activities.

He decides to savor this, walking around the aisles, glancing over magazines for a bit, looking over the snacks, and catching himself before he impulsively ripped open a bag of gummy bears.

He had money, he didn't need to shoplift, and he especially didn't need to draw attention to himself and waste such a perfect disguise.

He trots back to grab a basket to stock up with for snacks. Only to get distracted once again from his goal of getting painkillers, this time by a shelf of scented candles. The sweet smell being too much to resist despite the knowledge that these were candles and thus inedible.

He sets down the basket to sniff a few candles and…. Huh….

He takes one candle in one hand, and one in the other, comparing them.

Then looking at the labels to see the ingredients.

Neither of the candles smelled… Right?

He sets them down and tries with a third, finding the least complicated smelling candle he could see on the shelf with a plain cinnamon.

Still seemed off somehow. Are these just weirdly bad candles??

Actually, now that he stopped and thought about it, the food and soda earlier had been a bit weird too….. huh.

Bob, being a former cook and food obsessed individual in general, he'd built up a lifetime of skill picking out the subtleties of the taste and smell of different ingredients and spices. And that skill had then carried over to being able to pick out some of the nuances of stuff like perfumes and colognes as well. Especially once he had transitioned from a more opportunistic cannibalism into actively hunting people, and the various fragrances people might wear also got roped into his perception of food. 

Which had then become an embarrassing problem when stuff like sandalwood soap got his mouth watering. Like being tempted to eat soap that smelled like cupcakes he could at least forgive himself for, as at least one out of those two things were normally edible. Or with cucumber soap. He didn’t particularly like raw cucumbers, but it was at least still technically a food. 

But neither soap nor wood chips were food, so there was really no good excuse with that one.

But seemed like either those skills weren't translating to this new body, or what was seeming more and more likely as he compared more candle smells, whoever it was he was possessing simply had a worse sense of smell than he was used to.

It was an intriguing novelty in a way, and Bob felt a bit like challenging himself to better figure out exactly how things were different or what he couldn't smell. 

"mam? …… Mam? Mam? Excuse me mam?"

Someone taps Bob on the shoulder. Oh right, he was a woman right now. They were talking to him. He pauses, places the candle he was holding back on the shelf then turns, looking up at a store employee with an unsettling grin.

Felt weird to look up at someone instead of down. He probably hadn't looked up at someone like this since he was a teenager.

"Mam, the store is closing, you've gotta take your things to the register."

Bob considers killing the employee.

Seems like they're here alone, and it would give him a bit longer to look around uninterrupted. 

But as his hand twitches, considering going for his knife, he gets reminded he's missing his butcher belt, and that gives him enough lucidity to think things through a bit more carefully. 

Eyes glance down at his empty basket, and he startles.

He forgot the candy!

Picking up the basket, he darts over to the snack aisle and speedily chucks a random assortment of candy and junk food in, before quickly making it to the front and slamming the overflowing basket on the counter.

His odd behavior gets a bit of a skeptical look out of the employee as they walk behind the checkout, but they decide against saying anything about it.

Quietly tallying up and bagging the snacks, taking the bills Bob puts on the counter, and giving him change.

Following Bob to the door, and turning off the motion sensor and locking the sliding doors behind him as he leaves.

Bob stows the bags in the minimal back seat of the car, but keeps and opens a bag of gummy bears to eat. This time pacing himself more to see if he could taste any difference between the different colors of candy, and to give him some time to think.

He's got a car, and got snacks, not too shabby. 

It's getting late though, and there shouldn't be many more places open at this time.

And now that he thinks about it, he's feeling kinda tired. Now that some of the excitement has worn off, it's clear that whoever it is he's taken control of, seems like they might have had a long day at work even before all the excitement this evening.

He considers what he should do for shelter.

His usual hideout, his old house from before he was sent to prison, is over back in his home town on the other side of the forest. 

Sure he had a car, but at this rate it would take him all night and well into the morning before he arrived. 

Probably best if he takes a nap somewhere around here before he heads out. 

He briefly considers the condemned house he stayed at earlier, but he hadn't seen any beds in that place, and even if there had been, they would have been dusty and moth eaten by now.

So he goes with the best choice he could think of. Turning the keys, he moves the car to a more secluded looking location, locks the doors, leans the seat back, and tries to drift off.

It ends up being more challenging than he was used to. Seemed this body wasn't the type to fall asleep easily. Or maybe too much sugar and activity, who knows. Either way it took about an hour before he finally drifted off.

Only to be rudely awakened not long after by the sound of an alarm.

Eyes blink open sleepily with a scowl, Bob reaching out towards the source of the noise, only for her eyes to snap open with a jolt of pain.

Bobs had instinctively tried to reach for the noise with his own arm rather than the woman's, and with his thick arm sticking out of her torso, he could feel all the pain in his cracked bones, damaged ligaments, and sore joints. 

And the eyes of the woman looked at this sight with fear for a brief moment, before Bob quickly pulled his arm back in and the look on her face changed from shock to one of frustrated annoyance.

Rubbing the sleep outta one eye as he looks for the noise. It coming from the lady's messenger bag, and feeling around, he pulls out a smartphone, the display saying 6:30 am and "Work".

To hell with that, Bob isn't going to no goddamn job. Especially not at six freaking am. 

He presses the big button on the screen and tosses the phone into the pile of food and stuff on the passenger seat beside him, and tries to go back to sleep, but just as he's getting comfortable, the alarm starts up again.

Letting off a loud groan, he sits up fully, and feels around for the phone among the leftover drive through food he hadn't been able to eat, soon finding it and giving a closer inspection to the screen. Looked like the big button was a snooze button, and the button to actually turn off the alarm was a smaller button below it.

A classic trick to pull on sleepy people.

He turns off the alarm, and groans again, rubbing her eyes and face. Feeling some soreness of the woman's neck, shoulders, and back protest at the movement.

Guess whoever this lady was, they weren't as young as they looked, because not sleeping in an actual bed really didn't agree with them. 

He glances down at the phone in his hand again, he remembers that these smart phones can work as one of those GPS maps. Might help him get where he's going faster, since he was too delirious at the time from his injuries to remember what route he took to get to this town.

But after fiddling with it again for a minute, looked like it was locked with a passcode.

Dang.

He slumps back against the seat. 

He really didn't want to drive anywhere right now. The sun wasn't even up yet, and if anything he felt more sleep deprived than he'd been before the nap.

More just looking to fidget for a moment, he grabs the woman's bag, drops the phone in, then sifts through its contents just to see if there's anything interesting. The day spent in her body making him a bit more curious about who it is he’s possessing exactly.

He takes out her big wallet and looks through it more closely. First checking her drivers license, doing a bit of quick arithmetic in his head to figure out, she must have been 32 years old. He'd been expecting younger, but on second thought, that was probably the height talking. 

Being this short, he figures with the right outfit, and this lady could probably pass as a teenager.

He sifts through various cards in the wallet sleeves. Expired gift cards, a few punch cards for eventually getting a free drink or sandwich, membership card for a big box store, credit and debit card, basic stuff.

It's not until he gets to the back layers of the wallet that he finds anything with personality. A sparkly business card for some gem and mineral place, another with a dinosaur on it for some fossil place, and some sort of monster trading card? It must have been important to whoever this is, since it was in a separate plastic protective sleeve and everything. Maybe it’s a valuable collectors item or lucky charm or something.  

And in a zip-pocket, instead of spare change, there were a bunch of uncommon coins, colorful shiny stones, and the squashed pennies you can get at tourist spots. 

He pulled out and ran a thumb over a squashed penny that had a saguaro cactus on it.

Though not much fits in a wallet, so he quickly exhausts that distraction. So back to thinking what his next move should be.

Something occurs to him.

You know? If he wants somewhere to sleep, doesn't this lady have, like… a house?

Shit, it seems obvious in retrospect.

Though question is, where the heck does she live?

Wait! Oh yeah!

He pulls her wallet back out and checks the address on her driver's license.

…….Oh...... right. He's not familiar with this area. He has no idea what street this is.

Guess he can find out though. And it woulda been smart to get a map anyway before he heads back to his place.

He groans and stretches a bit, before starting up the car and heading to a gas station to get a map, get his bearings, and with a little asking for directions from a mailman, he finds the house. 

He almost does a double take when he pulls up to it. It's a bigger house than he was suspecting. Secluded too.

Clear on the other edge of town, bordering a forest, and at the end of a long straight street with a wide berth between the nearest neighbors. One of those old upper middle class sort of houses, like what you might expect a successful lawyer in the 1930’s to have as a summer home.

He notices a garage door opener clipped to the sunshade in the car, and giving it an experimental press... the garage starts to open! So this is definitely the place.

He pulls into the driveway, taking a moment to roll down the window and look over the front of the house for a minute.

Mostly scanning the windows for movement in case there was anyone in the house. 

After all, a house this big? He knew she had said before that she didn’t have any kids, but that didn’t rule out a boyfriend, roommates, or maybe an elderly relative she was looking after. Bob felt decently confident that if there were only a small handful of people in there, he had enough energy that he could catch them by surprise and slit their throats before taking the desired nap in an actual bed. Maybe even enough energy to butcher and eat one before getting some real shut-eye.

He also takes the moment to look over some of the details of the house more closely. 

It was an old house, but not run down. Though not especially well maintained either. It’s clear from the weedy lawn and bare garden, along with the chipped paint and stains on the house itself, that whoever this woman was, they weren’t paying for a landscaper or any recent renovations or anything.

So he guessed, rich enough to own an extravagantly large house, but not rich enough for a gardener? Not seeing any movement through the windows he pulls into the garage, not bothering with closing the garage door behind him, and getting out of the car. A four car garage, nice. Though currently the garage only actually contained one other car. A big pick-up truck, expensive looking too. Or at least it would have been pretty top of the line maybe 10 to 15 years ago. But could still get a good price with resale.

Though it looked mostly unused. Both in the sense of not having much in the way of visible wear and tear, and with stuff leaned against it or in the way of the door that would keep it from being driven out of the garage without breaking stuff. The other 2 cars worth of garage space were filled with junk and yard care stuff like a mower and snow shovel. Though he notices some stuff for a dog. A big dog too, judging by the size of the dusty crate and old dog bed thrown in the corner.

He hadn’t considered encountering a dog.

A person should be easy to fool with possessing the womans body. Even if he doesn’t make for a convincing performance, almost no one would immediately jump to the conclusion of a supernatural invasion of the body snatchers style explanation for his weird behavior. But would a dog be able to sniff out that something was up? Bob looks around at the various tools and gardening implements along the wall. But not finding much in the way of sharp implements, he settles on grabbing a crowbar before he opens the door into the house, and quietly sneaks in.

No sound of an excited dog scampering towards him, and no voice or footsteps acknowledging his arrival, though either could have been notified of his arrival by the loud sound of the garage door opening. 

He grips the crowbar a little tighter, and starts slowly and methodically searching through every room in the house for signs of life. Setting down the crowbar to trade for a knife when he finds the kitchen. And keeping his ears peeled for any noise besides the soft sound of his own footsteps. 

But after stalking all through the house from the basement up to the third floor without so much as a peep, he stops for a moment to scratch his head thoughtfully. Really? No one else is here?

Sure it might be in many ways convenient to not have anyone around to have to deal with, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn't also a little disappointed at not having any unsuspecting meatbags he could make into an easy meal. Heading back downstairs, he takes a bit of a closer look at his surroundings. 

There’s some really nice things around the house. Fancy furniture, fancy rugs, fancy ceramics, fancy taxidermy animals, fancy swords and spears and other weapons hung on the walls, decorative rocks, artistic pieces both old and modern, various treasures from around the world ranging from cheap knick knacks to expensive museum looking pieces… It felt like the place had gone through multiple generations of treasure hunters. Such that despite the size of the big house, it still seemed to struggle to have enough space to display everything. But It felt like a comfortable amount of clutter to Bob. Not like the sterile minimalism of many rich people houses he saw on the tv nowadays, but not a hoarder situation either. He could walk around without having stuff to trip over or bump into. Finding a few photographs over a fireplace and inspecting them for clues, he sees a young couple, some pictures of kids, pictures of a few elderly couples in front of the house, a few pictures of dogs….. Oh wait, that little girl in the photo is definitely a younger version of the woman he’s currently possessing. Which means the young couple are her parents, old people are grandparents, and the other kids are probably her siblings or cousins. 

Must be an old family house she inherited. He wondered briefly if maybe the other people in the pictures were dead or something, maybe leaving a big family house to the only survivor of some “tragic accident” or whatever. Cus he definitely didn't get the feeling there was anyone else living here, and hadn't been for awhile. What with how unused a lot of the rooms he’d peeked in looked, and how there was only the one space in the garage for the little beige car that looked like it ever got any use. Though whether she’s on her own due to tragic circumstances, or if the other people just moved out and she stayed behind, the "being secluded" was what mattered.

And all evidence was pointing to this being a nice safe place to stay and recharge his batteries for an afternoon or so before he heads home. Shame he’s not affiliated with the more common criminal element though, cus if he had the right network for it, he could probably get a lot of money stealing and selling this stuff. But that’s one of the downsides of being a serial killer cannibal. 

Even the criminals want nothing to do with you. 

So looks like she’ll be keeping this fancy stuff to herself; at least until Bob can kill and eat her, then it’s finders keepers for any thief who can stumble on the house.

Heading back to the car, he grabs his snacks and leftovers and brings them to the kitchen. Putting most of it on the table, along with taking his red sweater off his waist to drop on the table. Before putting some of the more perishable food in the fridge, and taking the opportunity to see what she had in there.

Being pretty thoroughly lost in the distraction of snooping through this woman's stuff at this point. Especially as more things kept catching his attention. 

It's almost immediately clear that this woman had a pretty specific flavor palette, and didn’t stock much in the way of general items for entertaining guests. Instead finding a frankly absurd excess of spicy stuff in the fridge. 

In particular, both a half-empty gallon size jar of pickled jalapeno rings and a similarly large and half empty jar of those pepperoncini peppers that are often used in Italian restaurants or put as a garnish in take out pizzas. And then not just those peppers, but also having a few smaller jars of more expensive, and more spicy, pickled peppers.

He paled slightly at the thought of how many peppers she must be going through a day to have to buy them by the gallon. If he tried that lifestyle, he'd probably spend half his day, every day, stuck on the toilet.

But the pepper jars were just the most obvious tips of the spicy iceberg, because it seemed like nearly everything in the refrigerator that could be spicy, was spicy.

The salami? Spicy. 

Cheese? Literally had ghost pepper written on the label. 

Sauces in the door? Hot sauces, and even some sort of chili oil salad dressing he'd never seen before.

Even the jar of green olives were jalapeño stuffed olives instead of the usual red pimento you'd see in cocktail olives.

He half expected the gallon of milk to be some ridiculous pepper infused nonsense, but looked like that one was normal, thankfully.

His eyes kinda glazed over some of the veggie ingredients for salads like lettuce and carrots and such, but lingered on some of the stuff he couldn't easily parse, as there were quite a number of things that didn't have any English on their labels. Having either some kinda Japanese looking text, or some European looking language he couldn't parse. Though he could parse a few things based on shape or images on the packaging. Like soup stock, pickled meat, fruit juice, and some kind of dessert treat.

He already knew there were a lot of foreign knick knacks around the house, so he put 2 and 2 together and figured she must have spent enough time abroad to have developed some tastes that couldn't be satisfied with local cuisine.

The freezer carried on the theme of foreign foods with non-english labels, but now had an excess of frozen seafood of all sorts. Fish, shrimp, crab, clams, mussels, scallops, even some lobster.

The rest being mostly frozen fruits and dessert looking things (he'll be taking that tub of ice cream thank-you-very-much).

But shifting through the clutter a bit, something caught his eye.

A large plastic wrapped beef brisket. Well marbled, and all in all probably about 13 pounds of meat on its own. 

Give it a day to defrost, and there's a lot he could do with that meat. More than the woman he's possessing probably could. She'd probably ruin it by turning the meat into some kind of 5 alarm spicy nightmare where all you can taste is your own tastebuds burning off. He'd practically be doing it a favor cooking it in a way where ya could actually taste the meat.

  And looking around as he goes to grab a spoon for the ice cream, it’s a pretty nice kitchen here too. He could cook a lot more complicated meals here than he could at his place. Especially since his hideout didn’t have running water or reliable electricity. Maybe he should stick around for a few days and burn through the stuff in her fridge before he heads home. 

Like he knows he'll need to get in contact with the cult at some point to get a new amulet made for him so he can start getting back to his previous levels of supernatural resilience. But judging how he'd woken up in the place where the cult dumps their unwanted corpses, there shouldn't be anyone in any big rush to find him. He's got plenty of time.

Though… sticking around would mean going out shopping at least once for ingredients. This woman had 7 different kinds of hot sauce in her fridge, but didn’t have any ketchup, mustard, or mayo. 

Though… it’s not like he couldn’t go shopping now. 

He's got a disguise, and he's got money, and he's got a place to put the things he buys.

Yeah this could be a good change of pace actually. Keep his head down for a bit. Maybe veg out and watch some tv. 

He'd need to stock up on meat though if he were to really make the most of it, so he'd have to think about…

But his train of thought is interrupted by the ringing of a phone call coming from the womans messenger bag. He pulls it out to take a look.

He still couldn't unlock the phone, but the caller ID said it was her boss calling. And once the call went to voice-mail, he could see a number of notifications for texts from her workplace asking where she was and why she hadn't come in.

But it's not anything like family or friends calling that they're about to walk in the front door and surprise him, so he doesn't much care. 

The people at her job will just have to be content with the notice they'll get on the evening news when he's done with her, that the butchered remains of her rotting body were discovered by some unlucky smuck and his dog or something. 

Leaving the empty ice cream container and spoon on the kitchen table, he heads upstairs for the long awaited nap.

Only one of the bedrooms had actually looked lived-in, so he headed towards there. Though he stops with a trip to the nearest bathroom to brush his teeth first.

He'd always been a bit fastidious about dental hygiene, he kinda had to be with all the sugar he ate, or else he wouldn't have made it to his 40s and still had teeth. And he'd been able to maintain the habit pretty well through prison and his time on the run. And despite it not being his body he was using, he figured having a clean mouth would probably help him get to sleep easier.

And seeing only one toothbrush by the sink further confirmed his suspicions that this woman lived alone.

He briefly turns to try and look for a spare toothbrush to use, but quickly catches himself with a…

Oh, duh. This is her toothbrush, he's in her body, so this is his toothbrush. 

Yeah, he's totally getting the hang of this "being a random stranger he grabbed off the street instead of himself" thing.

And with teeth and a bit of other business sorted, he heads to the bedroom full of nerdy looking memorabilia and a big unmade bed, kicks off his shoes, closes the curtains, and plops face first into the bed and….

Ohhhhhhhhhh shit. This isn't just any old mattress, this is an expensive mattress. This is the kind of mattress you'd have to drop about three months rent to be able to buy. No wonder this body found it so hard to fall asleep in the car, when it's used to this kind of luxury.

Or at least that's what Bob assumed at first, because it quickly became clear that even still, sleep wouldn't come so easy. But moving around a few pillows and snuggling under a blanket, he felt comfortable enough to not resent the wait. 

Spending a bit of time to feel positive about how much things had turned around since yesterday before slowly drifting off.

The dreams that bubbled up were…. Weird. 

Conflicting. Confusing. Surreal. A bizarre mich-mash of people Bob had never met before and places he'd never been overlapping with the familiar. One moment feeling like he's being interrogated by something vicious, the next feeling like something was trying to escape, but was caught like an animal in a glue trap.

Stretching and snapping things that had tangled around it like rubber bands, before retreating into the distance, though somehow still tugging at him.

Bob felt like he was on the other side of a street, a blue-green light swirling somewhere on the horizon.

He was wearing his red sweater and the red gloves of his devil costume, so he probably had his horns on too.

Seemed like there wasn't much else around besides the blue glow somewhere over there, so he starts heading towards it.

Only to feel with excruciating detail as he gets knocked to the ground and a car tire goes over his rib cage, snapping the bones one after another in quick succession like a gruesome xylophone.

Whatever uneasy semi-lucid equilibrium that had been reached in the dream falls apart in an instant, descending into a swirling overlapping chaos once again, but this time it's painful. 

Unbearably painful.

He's dying. He knows he's dying. He's done it before, and the certainty only seems to make it all the more terrifying. 

His emotional state feeling all the worse as he could feel some sort of second hand panic coming from a kicking and roaring thing getting pulled down with him. 

Like he was tied to some sort of monster trying to hook talons into anything that will slow the descent of both of them, if that's what it takes to save itself.

And the more he fades the stronger it seems to get.

Until it turns and gets its hooks in him instead, a furious stubborn defiance hitting his brain like an electric shock, and it pulls.

He wakes up all at once in a cold sweat, taking a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings. The painful phantom limb-esk echo of the memory of his death, feeling mismatched on this smaller, differently shaped body. 

He spends a few minutes trying to ground himself. Remembering recent events, and where, (and who) he was.

Looking over at the slight crack in the blinds, it was dark out now, he had slept through the whole day. 

Throwing off the covers and scooting to the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths to try and dissipate the lingering panic of the nightmare, before considering his next course of action.

He probably should have expected weird dreams to be a side effect of using the amulets like this. 

After all, weird dreams kind of went hand in hand with the eldritch powers the cult was messing with. 

But it seems doubly to be expected in retrospect, since it was clear that part of the surreal jumble was probably a result of him and the person he was possessing having their dreams overlapping.

But this pain he felt was a jarring level of vivid.

During the actual event of his death, he'd had his amulet to help block out the pain. Not entirely mind you, it was still quite painful to get hurt that much, but doing its job well enough that getting back up after multiple times of getting shot and run over was plenty doable if one were stubborn enough. 

But waking up in the gorge without this supernatural pain blocking? 

He'd been given a more keen physical memory of the pain such an injury would entail. 

And it's like his mind was going back in and filling in the blanks. Or perhaps unlocking memories that had been supernaturally suppressed. 

Getting run over by a car would hurt quite a lot actually, and seems like the dream was looking to remind him of it.

He hoped this wouldn't be an every night sort of thing.

Probably best not to dwell on it though, so… distractions. Gotta figure out some distractions.

What was his agenda for the day? Or…uhhh… night he supposed.

Well…. He had been meaning to stock up on meat. And hunting someone down would be a good way to get his mind off things.

Yeah! He'll feel better with some of his favorite activities and favorite food!

And he'll be able to experiment with the fun novelty of trying to do what he does in another body! Won't that be something. He could use a good challenge.

He gets up and heads downstairs. Gathering up a few odds and ends to help with his hunting. Picking out a new knife and backup knife from the selection in the kitchen, and going over them a few times with a sharpener attached to a wooden knife block.

He couldn't find any easy handheld sharpeners, so he wouldn't be able to fidget with them like he does with his normal set, but this should be fine for now. He's not looking to go on a whole spree. One kill should be plenty.

Plus he should probably play this one extra safe anyways. Both because of needing to not blow his cover, and out of the risk that his current body, with its smaller stature and less effective at healing amulets, wouldn't be able to hold its own in a fight quite as well as he's used to.

So one person, and do it quick and discreet. No playing around with his food.

After trying to check the time, only to see that the clocks on the walls are stopped, and the digital clock on the oven is clearly wrong, he resorts to checking the woman's smart phone again. Looks like there'd been another call and texts from her work. But still nothing from family or friends, so that was good. And it looked to be about 7:40pm.

Man, he'd really slept the whole day away. Must have been more tired than he thought.

He leaves the phone on the kitchen table and loads up the beige commuter car with a few things. 

He'd ended up stowing his weapons and tools in the messenger bag, since with the wallet being too big to fit in his pockets, he needed a place to keep it. But once he had the one thing he needed the bag for, it kinda snowballed from there and he figured might as well put everything in and then some. (The then some in this case being mostly snacks)

So guess he's a guy who carries a bag now.

Backing the car outta the garage, and he's back on the road again. Slowly driving around looking for people hanging out alone in secluded places, as well as just getting a feel for the landscape and its nooks and crannies.

Though at this time of the night, with no time to stalk any victims and learn their schedules, that really just left 2 reliable demographics to choose from.

Employees working the graveyard shift, or drunk single guys leaving the bars, overconfident in their ability to safely walk home at night. 

And the employees usually had security cameras trained on em to keep the minimum wage workers from stealing or slacking off.

But likewise ready to bear witness to their brutal death.

So he looks for any bars that still had some activity going. Soon finding one that seemed pretty hopping, and parking on the other side of the street for some good ol fashioned people watching. Leaning back, grabbing some snacks from his bag, even putting the radio on for some tunes.

Patient, but eager for a good victim to reveal themselves.

Plus, he just rather liked people watching in general. It had been one of his main sources of entertainment back when he worked as a butcher/fry cook, and he'd only gotten better at it once he started stalking victims too.

So he didn't mind that it took awhile before he spotted his first candidate. 

Some guy, walking alone, who didn't immediately head towards the nearest parking lot or wait out front for a taxi, instead shuffling down the sidewalk with an unsteady gait.

Perfect.

Bob let the man get some distance, before turning the ignition, and following in the car, parking it again a bit further down the road where it looked like the man was heading.

Then leaving the car, knife in hand but hidden from view behind his back, and leaned against a wall. 

Fixing his target with an unsettlingly intense stare as the man came closer. Soon noticing the eye contact, and deciding to confront Bob about it. 

Slurring,

"What'r you lookin at freak???"

Bob could smell the alcohol on the man's breath, and let's a slight pause hang in the air for a moment, before replying…

"Did you know… that the average human heart beats with enough pressure to squirt blood up to 30 feet?"

"Whuh?"

A flash of silver, and the man's throat was cut open. Bob quickly side stepping as the man's hands gripped his own throat in a panic, before turning the knife and stabbing into the man's thigh. Earning a startled gurgling noise of pain from the man, before taking another step further behind him to slice into the back of his legs to make extra sure he can't run, then gleefully stabbing into his back again and again.

The man only able to take about two steps before collapsing, having never even had a chance to scream, and Bob watching the life drain out of him completely with a manic grin.

The blood pooling on the sidewalk looking almost black in the dim light.

Now just to make himself scarce before anyone else comes this way, and cut up his prize.

Not having a belt to keep his stuff in, he stabs the knife into the man's torso to hold it, before grabbing the man's ankle and dragging him towards the car. 

Not having the upper body strength to just pick up the corpse like he normally would, and instead having to really use his legs to help pull.

The man's corpse leaving a snail trail of blood as it scraped across the concrete.

Bob paused briefly to pull out the keys to pop the trunk and, oh hey towels! He remembered the woman mentioning those!

Guess they'll be getting some use after all. 

And, plus, a little insulated cooler with some spare water bottles inside. That could come in handy.

Unfolding the towels for an added layer to help soak up the blood, the then hefts the body onto the edge of the trunk, and with another heave of the corpses legs, the body tumbles in.

Bob arranging it a bit better, and wrapping it up a little bit in the towels before shutting the trunk.

There had been a large top loading freezer in the basement of the woman's house he could use to store the uneaten parts of the man for a few days, so he was planning to butcher and keep more of the corpse than he usually would. 

But he also didn't want to wait that long to have a taste, so rather than driving all the way back to the house, he instead drives to the closest edge of the town, and stops in a small secluded clearing by the side of the road.

A nice cool breeze and clear view of the moon and stars above him met Bob as he stepped out of the car.

Nice night. Would almost be like a picnic to go stargazing.

Though Bob didn't have time to dwell on it, he wanted a taste while the body was still as fresh as possible.

Popping the trunk, Bob yanked the knife out of the man's back, grabbed an arm, and started excitedly slicing through the skin, muscle, and tendons of the elbow to detach it.

Eagerly sinking his teeth unto the still-warm flesh, but finding this womans body didn't have quite the same bite strength as he normally took for granted, so he got help from the knife to cut off a bite sized piece.

Though as he chews, his expression of manic excitement slowly falls into something more like confused disappointment. 

It didn't taste right.

No explosion of flavor tingling his mind. No complex and nuanced taste. No addictive urge to want to eat more and more of it like a big ol bag of chips. And no hungry pit in his stomach flooding him with satisfaction, however temporary, whenever it was filled with what he craved.

If anything, he felt a little sick. In fact he's been feeling a bit sick all afternoon. But with such a high pain tolerance, he hadn't really noticed until now.

Taking a moment to examine his feelings a bit closer, he could tell he still craved…. something. 

The feeling of want also being something he was so accustomed to that he had let it go unexamined until now.

But, whatever it was he was craving… it wasn't this.

He nonetheless took another bite of arm, just in case anything would change, chewing thoughtfully as he tried to examine the flavor more closely.

A faint memory of a familiarity to beef crossing his mind as he chewed.

Which stopped him dead in his tracks, an offended look coming on his face.

Ex-fucking-scuse me???? Beef?!?

The closest animal meat to compare to human meat was pork . Did this woman really have such bad taste as to not even be able to tell the difference between beef and pork???

Good lord. To hell with this, looks like this is something he'll have to do by his own damn self.

Before Bob even has time to think, the leg he'd tried to stand on buckles, his fall disconnecting him fully from the woman he had been possessing, and he hits the ground hard with an unflattering scream, as his vision briefly goes white from the shock of blinding pain.

Ooooooohhhh fuck… he messed up.

He messed up BAD.

He hadn't healed at all since he possessed the woman yesterday. All he'd done was spend that time adjusting to the new body, and in the process lost most of his sense of being accustomed to the horrible pain he was in.

And now he'd just jumped right back into it like he'd carelessly done a cannonball onto what turned out to be a frozen lake.

Which shattered his bones hitting the ice, before the ice cracked underneath him anyway and dunked him in the freezing water.

The analogy of shock, freezing, and drowning being even more apt than it first appears, Bob feeling his dangerously low body temperature more keenly than he had before, body starting to shiver reflexively as once again he feels the delicate structures in his absent of organs fluid filled torso pop and snap from the impact of hitting the ground, and fluid starts leaking into his throat.

His vision returning just enough in time to blurily see the woman go limp, first dropping the man's forearm, then tipping towards the right, away from where he lay.

Hitting the side of the trunk, breaking her fall slightly, before the momentum rolled her off the car and falling in a heap on the grass beside the back tire.

He coughs reflexively from the fluid leaking over into his lungs, it having a more distinct taste of blood now than it had when he had been knocked down first catching the woman, along with more of a red tint to it. 

Having burst a few new blood vessels that had been healing in his torso in preparation for regrowing his organs when he went down.

Bob instinctively turning over onto his side to help clear the fluid from his lungs before he suffocates, but the panic of struggling to breathe only adds to the stress of the horrible pain, teetering on the edge of a panic attack as his heart races and mind fogs even more.

He has to get back to his hostage, he has to shut the pain off!!

He tries to lift himself up, his arms shaking horribly as he tries to brace enough to get one knee below himself, but it's too painful, and his arm buckles before he can make it. Letting out a pitiful whine as the motion jostles his aching stomach.

He can't get up. He can't get up!!!!!

He tries to calm down enough to try again, but his panic spikes as out of the corner of his eye, he sees the woman sit up and clutch her head with a soft groan. Blinking as if coming out of a daze.

No NO NO!!!

If she can get away with the other half of the amulet still in her chest, he won't be able to possess anyone else until he tracks her down to retrieve it!

Damn it you stupid mangled hunk of meat, move !

He coughs up more blood laced fluid, reached his hand out, and dug his nails into the grass and dirt, dragging himself to turn and better angle himself to crawl towards her, but the motion draws her attention, startling her with a slight jump of surprise, her eyes going wide with fear as she takes in the sight of him.

The man who to her had just captured her moments ago, but now for some reason was crawling towards her with a crazy look in his eyes while bleeding profusely from the mouth.

She quickly gets to her feet in alarm, she has to act fast. 

Looking left and right, she tries to get her bearings quickly as possible. She seems to be outside somewhere she doesn't recognize.

Hey wait, this is her car!

She dashes to the passenger side, finding the door unlocked, and she practically leaps in, pressing the door button to lock it behind her, and shifting a seat over to the driver's side.

Where are the keys????

Her messenger bag is in the passenger seat, that's where she normally keeps her keys. 

Frantic, she snatches and dumps it into the seat.

Why is her work bag suddenly full of knives and junk food????

Her panic rises as she hears the clicking of someone trying the door handle beside her.

Trying to speed things up, she clicks the overhead light on and sifts through the bag's dumped contents more frantically, but still not seeing any keys.

But from the door beside her,

Wumph…. Wham, WHAM! SMASH!!!

She turns in time to see a hand bust through the window with a shower of glass, holding…. 

Is that a pepper grinder?!??!? What??? Of all the things to use as a hammer.

The big hand drops its tool into the car, before reaching down and unlocking the door. Simultaneously using the handle from the other side to open it, revealing the terrifying looking giant man.

Still clearly not doing well.

Not upright but having tried to use the car to brace himself and get to his feet a little bit.

And his face, he looked furious, but also horribly sick, with pale sunken features and his own blood smeared all down his chin.

And unsettlingly, his blown out pupils were an inhuman reflective blue-green.

"DON'T YOU RUN FROM ME!!!!"

His roar sprayed flecks of blood as with some effort he hefts himself through the open door, trying to climb onto the seat.

And scrambling backwards, she opens the passenger door and turns to try and escape through it, but with his long arms he's able to snatch her ankle at the last moment.

Pulling her back into the car and towards him, intending to drag the both of them out the other side.

She grabs whatever handhold she can to keep from getting pulled closer. Though remembering the knives that had been dumped from her bag into the seat, she lets go with one hand to feel around beneath her until she feels the handle of a knife.

Swinging it around, she stabs it into the arm holding her ankle, making the man yipe like a dog, but he doesn't let go.

Come on, she thinks to herself.

Be smarter about this, if you can sever the correct tendons, his grip will break.

She yanks the knife out, then tries more of a slicing motion, hoping that a longer diagonal cut would have a better chance to hit more vital connections, but she can only get one more swipe in before his other hand comes up and grabs her wrist.

With both a wrist and ankle caught, her grip with her remaining hand breaks when he tugs. 

Adding his weight into the motion as he slides out of the car, falling onto his back and pulling her into a tight bear hug to keep her arms pinned. Her legs not able to get a good angle to kick him.

And as he tightens his grip, she starts to sink through his skin.

That gets her panicking.

Holy shit, the thing from before, it was real!!!

Instinctively, like she was trying to fight drowning, she tried to keep her head above water. 

But a big hand grabbed the top of her head, and shoved her in.

Bob let his arms fall to his sides, taking a few deep breaths. 

He hadn't had the time to question it, but looks like the amulets can work both ways, and she can sink into him too.

He can… still feel her in there.

But he's too hurt to want to examine this any further. 

He sinks into her. Retaking control of her body.

Rising to a seated position, he puts his, or rather her head in her hands, feeling stressed and ashamed at his mistake.

He'd almost lost all his progress with one careless mistake. He could kick himself.

And moreover….

He'd been spending time goofing off instead of getting his strength back. His real body hadn't healed at all in the time it had spent stored… wherever it went when he took control of his hostage.

Which means he'd have to be out of the woman and suffering through the pain if he wants to fix things. And he'll have to keep the lady somewhere secure until he needs the body.

Rubbing his hands down his face…. Her face. 

You know that was another thing. He kept tripping up considering her body as his. If he keeps that up, he might get so distracted he forgets all about healing his real body until it's too late. 

And who knows how that could go wrong. He almost didn't want to think about it.

But he's not gonna make any progress hanging around here.

He gets up bitterly. Going around to the back of the car, picking the arm off the ground and tossing it in the trunk. 

Before pulling out the mini cooler, emptying it of the water bottles, and grabbing hold of the rest of the corpse, pulling it out and unwrapping the towels.

He figured he'd start the butchering out here, so he'd have less of the inedible bits to dispose of by the house where they could start to stink and rot.

Going back to the car, he grabs some knives and a cleaver, and brings em back to the corpse. Getting to it.

Opening the chest, removing organs. Dumping some on the ground, and putting some in the cooler for later. Deciding to remove the head and leave it behind too. Taking the cleaver to chop it into more manageable segments and help the meat drain faster, before rinsing the meat some with the water bottles, putting it back in the trunk, dumping the parts he was leaving behind in some bushes, and rinsing himself off as well. Leaving the empty bottles as litter.

Checking his pockets and realizing the keys were missing, he takes a minute to retrace his steps to try and find em. Soon picking them up outta the grass beside the trunk of the car.

Must have fallen out of her pocket when she collapsed. If they had stayed in her pocket, he probably would have lost her.

Bob cant help but feel feel bitter about how close she'd come to escaping as he gets in the car and drives back to the house.

Continuing to act a bit robotic and just going through the motions as he pulls in the garage and starts unloading. 

Stewing in being upset at his evening being spoiled and trying to get everything done without his usual enthusiasm to avoid getting distracted and kinda punish himself for carelessness.

He better prepares the meat in the kitchen, setting up for different kinds of meals and to avoid freezer burn, and splitting the kill between the kitchen fridge and the big freezer downstairs.

Taking a moment as he works to consider what he should do for his current situation with not being able to eat solid foods.

Spotting a blender, he figures making a meat smoothie might be about as good as he could get under current circumstances.

Maybe throw in some painkillers and crush those up and….

…..Shit. 

He only ended up getting snacks at the pharmacy. He forgot to get the painkillers.

He heads upstairs, and opens the medicine cabinet in the most lived in looking bathroom, rummaging through various bottles.

It seems suspiciously bare of first aid or medicines. Making him wonder if maybe she's keeping things somewhere else. But there is a bottle of aspirin. 

Probably better than nothing.

There's also something that looks prescription, in one of the orange pill bottles.

Had some fancy name he couldn't recognize and not much in the way of description for what it does, so he doesn't chance taking it for himself.

Wait….. this says a pill a day, this is the woman's house, he's in the woman's body.

Has he gotten her off her medication in the time he'd kidnapped her?

He feels a twinge of unease on top of his current stress.

What if this leads to something life threatening enough to make her sick or even kill her before he's done?

Or worse, lead to her dying while he's actively possessing her.

He's reminded of the vivid dream of his own death from last night. 

The thought of potentially adding another painful and unpleasant memory to make into nightmares like that one made the unease build even further.

He looks over the bottle and its instructions carefully. Even checking the date to make sure it wasn't expired or maybe something left behind by a guest sleeping over months ago.

It was recent, about half used already, and all signs pointed to this being the woman's medication. 

Not wanting to risk it, he has her body take a pill according to the instructions, before putting it back and heading downstairs with the bottle of aspirin for himself.

Grabbing the jug of milk from the fridge to go along with the aspirin and the meats from his latest kill for this unholy protein shake.

With some disappointment, he adds some of the best organs and cuts of meat to the blender. 

He woulda preferred to be able to savor em, but he can't afford to be picky now.

Starting up the blender with a loud grind as the aspirin pills were pulverized and mixed with the meat, then steadily adding in milk over the meat as needed for a liquid base, and the nasty looking red-pink slurry was done.

Popping the top off the blender, he sticks in a reusable straw he'd found with the cutlery, and tries a sip.

Oof, yep, wow, you can really taste the aspirin. 

Ugh that's nasty. 

Maybe it'll taste better with his own mouth. 

Be able to taste the meat more.

But that's the first thing situated, now he's gotta think of how he's gonna play out separating from the woman. Figure out that puzzle.

He needs a place to put her, and to be able to trap her there without the pain of returning to his broken body giving her a good chance to run.

Come to think of it, he probably should have thought to pick up some sleeping pills at the pharmacy when he had the chance too. 

Would really make this easier on him if he could just knock her out until the healing has a chance to catch up. 

But this is what he gets for being so out of practice with kidnapping. 

Last time he really had to bother with taking someone alive was with kidnapping sacrifices for the cult, and even on top of his three year prison stint where nothing much could get done, it had rarely been something he participated in even when he had the opportunity for it. Least beyond being some added muscle to help carry struggling tied up people from point a to b. 

But even during his time working closely with the cult, he'd generally been a take no prisoners type.

So actually containing and guarding someone so they don't escape… without gruesomely hurting them? 

Yeah it had been awhile.

He briefly considers the basement, but dismisses it just as quickly. He wanted to make this as easy on himself as he could, and walking up and down the stairs when he'd just recently been struggling to even stand up?

No-way ho-say. 

So that ruled out the upstairs too.

He settles on setting up in the garage.

Making some space by parking the commuter car in the driveway.

Getting a chair and some rope for the woman, a more sturdy looking chair for himself, and setting up the smoothie by his chair along with a few other things he might want returned to him once he's back in his old body. Like his sweater and salt/pepper grinder.

Plan is to take a seat in arm's reach and keep an eye on her while he drank the smoothie and waited to heal.

Though a twinge of excitement returns to him with the thought of how he could spook her with threats of what he'll do to her if she tries escaping again.

And as for trapping her, since the amulet stuns her for a little bit whenever he gets in or out. If he just goes in reverse order from when he untied her the first time, he should be able to tie her up and get out of her body without her having the time to regain consciousness.

Though he feels a bit more hesitant than he's used to for actually setting his plan into motion. He's more used to just doing stuff without much standing around stressing over things.

Maybe all this has him spooked too?

He has to fight with himself a bit to start the process. Sit down the woman's body, and start tying her up as much as she can manage with her own hands. Before he lets her go limp, bringing his own aching arms out of her torso, and tying what he can with his real arms. Fumbling a bit with things from the discomfort, though the most painful parts of himself were in his torso and legs, so he does alright. 

Pulling everything back and retaking control, struggling against the bonds to test if she would be able to wiggle free when she woke up. 

As well as resetting the clock for the minute or so he'd have before she starts waking up.

Seemed like everything was holding.

He turns his anxious gaze to the other seat in front of him.

All he has to do is get out, and stay steady enough for a few seconds to sit in that chair. Should be plenty doable.

Just don't fuck this up.

Carefully, he brings his arms back out first to try and brace himself, the woman's body going limp, before bringing out his less damaged leg. It shifting out of the woman's own leg so that his foot would already be on the ground.

Carefully, he puts his weight onto it and tries to stand, pulling his hips and torso out of her body. The unbearable pain returning as those parts of him rematerialized.

But with a bit of momentum, he's able to lean forward, disconnect from the woman's body, and catch himself on the other chair.

Carefully turning around and taking a seat.

Success! 

Though he can't be exactly enthusiastic about it. Even sitting disagreed with his body. Putting his weight on what felt like hairline fractures in his hips and spine.

And the awful wrong body temperature chill was back, and he realizes that his mouth still had a lot of blood and fluid lingering in it. And his... his pants and shoes are still moist? From all the way back when he cleaned up in the park bathroom? Guess there wasn't really anywhere for it to go when getting stored, and he hadn't spent long enough outside of the hostage to dry out. Though the cold was the more pressing matter.

Despite the protest of his body, he slowly and delicately puts his sweater back on, at least it had the chance to dry unlike the rest of him. And uses the sleeve to wipe the blood that had leaked and coughed out of his mouth and lungs, and picks up the blender container. Not having bothered to transfer his concoction from the blender to a cup, just sticking a straw in the top. And with a wince, he closes his eyes and takes a sip.

He's in too much pain to really even register the taste of it, focusing only on how the slurry felt as he swallowed it into his empty abdomen.

It felt painful and unnatural as the lukewarm paste leaked into where his stomach should have been. But a warmth spread from it, so he knew the healing was using the new materials to start to repair things around it. 

Give it a bit of time, and hopefully soon things can start getting into his bloodstream and healing around his body more generally.

Blinking tiredly, he checks the woman. Seeing that she was starting to stir. He bites back a noise of pain, trying to give himself a bit more time alone by not rushing her to wake up.

He should probably put on a bit of a show so she doesn't pick up on how much he wants to just curl up somewhere and cry right now.

But with her near escape, the cat's mostly out of the bag already. But if he can play it off, he can still probably bluff his way into looking more put-together than he is. Especially with the right threats.

Even just recognizing him from the news is often enough to paralyze someone with fear.

Yeah, what's he even worrying about, he's never been a worrying about things kinda guy. He's got this. 

And if it turns out wrong he'll just improvise something like he normally does.

Meanwhile, she had regained consciousness. 

But having felt bindings on her chest and limbs, and remembering being kidnapped, tied to a chair, and having some supernatural shit happen with a large disheveled man putting a gold thing in her chest, she decided not to open her eyes yet.

If she had passed out, and her body hadn't been damaged in the time it took to wake up again, then it was probably a safer move to play dead for a little bit to get her bearings and wake up fully before she attracts attention to herself.

Running over events in her head, before examining things as much as she could without moving or opening her eyes. Feeling where the bindings were on her body and the absence of a gag this time, concrete floor beneath her feet, the shape of the chair being different from the last one she was tied to, and that she felt sweaty and dirty. 

So time must have passed between now and when she was last conscious.

Checking the smell and temperature of the room, which seemed cold and musty,  before listening closely for any clues about her whereabouts, or anyone else in the room with her.

Hearing the shuffling of fabric in front of her, and the soft sound of breathing. Sounded like someone was right in front of her.

Which means they might pick up on her faking things if she gets too obvious or if they're observant enough, so she tries to collect the rest of her thoughts and brace herself for whatever horrible thing comes next.

Her final plan being that if she can pretend to be more dizzy, scared, and naive than she is, it might help give her an opening by being underestimated.

Trying to look weak and dizzy, she slowly blinks her eyes open. Meeting the gaze of the man in front of her. Same one that kidnapped her last time…..

Wait.

Trying to be subtle about it, she looks past the man, to the stuff behind him.

That's her stuff. This is her garage.

He was somehow able to track down where she lived. Or maybe he knew before he kidnapped her?

He didn't act like he knew her, but he had acted like she should know who he is.

Not enough data to make any good inferences yet, but she adds the new information to her mental list.

Main thing is she's not dead yet, and she has to figure out why that was, and how to keep on living. 

Whatever it takes.

[cherrycola27]

Worth the Wait

Pairing" Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC Lucy "Minx" Davidson

Warnings: Language, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT this some grade a filth right here. Bob Fucks... that is all 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: oh how I enjoyed writing this ;)

"So what do you think?" Lt. Lucy Davidson asked her best friend as she showed off the new dress she had purchased for her date later this evening. "Minx, you look great Bob is totally going to want to rip that off of you later tonight!" Phoenix joked, elbowing her in the side.

"No he won't Phe, and that's the problem!" Lucy sighed and dramaticly flopped down on her bed. "What do you mean Minxy? Are you saying that you an Bob haven't 'sealed the deal'?'" She asked raising an eyebrow. "Nope." Minx replied popping the P.

"You've been dating for five months and you haven't had sex yet?!" Phoenix exclaimed. "Ugh don't rub it in Tasha, not all of us are getting railed by Hangman on the regular. Lucy grumbled. Phoenix laughed at the remark.

"So let me get this straight. At the end if the night when Bob takes you home... he just what...kisses you goodnight on the door step and leaves?" She pressed.

"No, sometimes he comes in and we make out and there's some heavy petting involved but...that's about it." Lucy shrugged. "Well that's going to have to change.... we need to rectify this situation ASAP!" Phoenix said standing up quickly.

"Natasha." Lucy warned. "Do not meddle in this. Bob will ravage me when he is good and ready. I just have to be patient."

"I'm not going to meddle in your sex life or lack there of Luc... it's not really my style." Phoenix said patting her friend on the shoulder. "Thank you Nix." Lucy breathed out.

"Yeah it's not really my style but it is Hangman's and I am texting him right now!" Natasha squealed with glee. "Don't you dare!" Minx jumped up trying to grab Tasha's phone from her hand. But she was too late because moments later Phoenix was cackling like a hyena clutching her phone to her chest.

"Oh my God what did you do?!" Minx asked raking her hands through her hair. "Oh nothing... why don't we go get some lunch before we meet the boys later." Phoenix linked arms with her best friend and dragged her out the door.

Hours later Lucy was finishing up her makeup and looking at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. The dress she had purchased was a beautiful pink sundress that would make Elle Woods swoon. She had paired it with some simple jewelry and new wedge sandals. Her hair was half pulled back away from her face and the rest hung in loose waves.

She really did look good tonight. She looked more than good, she looked 'totally fuckable' as Phoenix would say. And maybe that was her intention when she bought this dress earlier this week. Maybe she bought it with the sole hope that Bob would want to rip it off of her. "God I sound like Taylor Swift right now." She thought recalling the T Swift song that is about this same exact senerio.

She was broken from her thoughts by the ringing of her doorbell. She quickly made her way down stairs to open the door. She was greated with a bouquet of sunflowers and the bright blue eyes of her boyfriend Bob. "Hi Bobby" Lucy greeted him warmly taking the flowers from him.

"Hi Minx, you look... wow." Bob said as he raked his eyes over her body. The sun dress she had on fit his girlfriend perfectly. She looked absolutely breath taking in the bright pink number. For a split second he wondered if she would look even better out of it, under him, legs wrapped around his hips, while she cried out his name.

He quickly shook the lewd thought from his mind... God he had been hanging out with Rooster and Hangman way to much... he needed to find better friends. "Ready to go beautiful?" Bob asked extending his hand to Minx. "Sure am honey. Let's go!" Lucy said quickly grabbing his hand and pecking him on the cheek. A blush crept up his cheeks and to his ears at the contact. The couple made their way to Bob's truck. He quickly opened the door for Lucy and helped her in before heading over to the driver's side.

Bob took Lucy to one if their favorite places to eat. A Little Italian spot that sat right on the water. They ate and had comfortable conversations but Bob could tell something was bothering her. "Penny for your thoughts Minx?" He asked over dessert. "What do you mean Bob? We haven't stopped taking this whole time. She said taking another bite of her tiramisu. "You make a valid point, but it just seems like there is something on your mind that you aren't telling me or something..." Bob trailed off.

Bob was right there was something on her mind. But what could she say? That she wanted him to take her home and ravage her on every avaliable surface? That she wanted to rip his clothes off of him and sink to her knees before him and taste him? That she had dreamt of what he would look like with his head between her thighs devouring her? That she craved his hands around her throat while he whispered dirty things in her ear. How she desperately wanted him to bend her over and pull her hair. That she would beg him right now to fuck her if she knew he would?

No, she couldn't say that to him. He was Bob, her Bob, sweet, gentle, caring. She was sure he would be giving lover in the bedroom because he was just a naturally giving person. But, he was always one to take his time to prepare and make sure everything was just right. That's what made him such a great WSO. He was meticulous, and most times quiet. He wasn't going to be one to just fuck her senseless no matter how bad she wanted him to with each passing moment. He cared she knew he did, and she was sure that's why they hadn't slept together yet.

"Um I was just thinking what if we skipped the movies and went to the Hard Deck after dinner. I'm sure whatever antics our friends are getting into would be much more entertaining than whatever is playing, plus, this new dress is just begging to be danced in, don't you think babe?" Lucy asked him

"Dancing and seeing our friends at the Hard Deck does sound pretty good darlin'. Sounds like a plan to me." Bob said. He quickly paid the bill and they hurried back to his truck. The pair held hands on the drive to the bar. Minx fidigeted uncomfortably I'm her seat. Bob noticed but thought it best to leave it alone for now.

"Mind if we turn on the radio baby?" He asked her. "Sure honey, a few tunes before we get there might be nice." She replied.

Bob turned on the radio and quickly found a Pop hit station that they both liked. He turned up the volume and Lucy internally groaned when she recognized the familiar tune of Taylor Swift's "Dress" come through the speakers. It was like God or the universe was messing with her or playing some cruel sick joke on her. She looked out the passenger side not able to meet Bob's eyes.

When they pulled into the Hard Deck she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. She had unbuckled and jumped out before Bob could even get to the door. She practically ran inside waving him off with the excuse that she needed to use the restroom. Once inside she quickly found Phoenix and dragged her into the ladies room and locked the door.

"The Hell Minx?" Phoenix said ask her friend turned towards her. "I cannot do this any longer. I swear if your back seater doesn't blow my back out soon, I am going to explode!" Lucy threw her hands up in the air. "I know I said don't meddle, but I really need you and Jake to meddle because I am going crazy!" She huffed leaning against the sink.

"Lucy, take a chill pill." Phoenix encouraged her. Hangman and Rooster may or may not be out there planting some seeds in Bobby's little brain right now." Phoenix told her.

"Oh my God you told Rooster?" Minx whipped around from the counter. "He and Jake are best friends. If one idiot knows the tea, so does the other." Phoenix shrugged. "Jesus how do you and Harper put up with them?" Lucy asked. Phoenix laughed and gestured for the two to leave the restroom.

"Bob, you mind telling us why you and Minx haven't done the deed yet?" Hangman asked the moment Bob walked over to him with drinks in hand for he and Minx. Bob nearly choked on his soda at the lewd comment. "Well... uh we just... I... I... I.... honestly... I don't know Jake." Bob stammered out. "I'm just afraid that I will... I don't know disappoint her or something." He shly confessed. "Bob... we've seen you in the locker room. I highly doubt you could disappoint her." Hangman winked at him. "Plus we knew that WSOs have to be pretty good with their hands." Rooster added taking a sip of his beer. Poor Bob turned three shades of red. "And I'm just saying I have it on good authority that Minx definitely bought a new dress for tonight with the hopes that a certain Lieutenant Comander would be taking it off of her tonight." Hangman add just driving the point home even more.

"Okay, enough I get it!" Bob yelled being done with the conversation. Thankfully Minx and Phoenix appeared. Bob quickly hopped off his bar stool and grabbed Lucy's hand. "Come on darlin' let's go dance." He whispered in her ear with his delicious southern draw.

The pair danced the night away, swaying, swining, and spinning to each song. Bob even taught Minx a two step when a country song came on. During their next dance Bob lifted Lucy off the ground and spun her around. But being the gentleman he was, he made sure to hold the hem of her dress down.

"Thank you for holding my dress down." She giggled when Bob placed her down. "Of course Minxy, I wouldn't want the whole Hard Deck to get a view of your underwear. He blushed.

Minx got up on her tiptoes and breathed against Bob's ear before whispering: "Oh Bobby, they wouldn't have gotten a view of my panties because I'm not wearing any." She kissed his cheek and returned to her normal stance.

Now Bob isn't entirely sure what snapped inside of him with that comment but something did. Before she could even understand what was happening Bob grabbed Lucy's hand and started to quickly lead her through the group of people at the bar. "Bob, what are we doing? Where are we going?" She asked once they finally made it back to his truck in the parking lot. Instead of answering her, Bob sealed his mouth against hers in a hungry, lust filled kiss. She gasped at the sensation of him pressing her against the truck. Bob took the opportunity to insert his tongue into her mouth as he kissed her roughly.

"Bob.. what was... why... what?" Minx asked breathlessly when he finally pulled away from her. "Why are we leaving?" She asked looking at him. His pupils were blown wide behind his gold rimmed glasses, his eyes were so black you almost couldn't see the blue in them.

His voice dropped about octave as he spoke: "I'm taking you home right now. Someone has to teach you a lesson. You whispering naughty things in my ear and wearing this dress and you expect me to not lose the last ounce of resolve I have darlin'?" He looked at her. "Get in the truck honey. The quicker I get you home, the quicker I get to have you under me." He winked as he opened her door.

Lucy couldn't focus on the ride back to her house. Bob's hand was under her dress on her upper thigh, just centimeters away from where she desperately wanted him to be. He was drawing circles on her thigh with his index finger. God should couldn't wait for his long digits to be inside her. When he pulled into her drive way and opened the door Minx practically sprinted to her front porch. She grabbed the keys from her purse but just as she was about to unlock the door Bob came up behind her and pulled her by the hips against him. She could feel his hardness pressing into her from behind. Bob began trailing kisses up her neck which causes her to lose focus and drop her keys.

She bent over to get them which gave Bob the perfect opportunity to spank her supple rear. "Ahh" Minx sqeaked out in surprise as she was finally able to unlock the door. Bob spun her on her heels and wrapped an arm around her waist as he pushed them inside and backed her up against a wall. He quickly kicked the door shut with his foot then reached out and locked the deadbolt all while making sure his lips never left Lucy's.

He tapped her hips signaling for her to jump while he pressed her into the wall. She happily followed his instructions and wrapped her legs around him and ran her fingers through his hair. Bob found that sweet spot behind her ear that had Minx crying out. He pulled away from her neck and looked at her.

Her eyes were glassy and hooded, her cheeks were flushed, her lips were pink and plump from his kisses and she was trying to catch her breath. "Bobby" She breathed out. "What's gotten into you?" She asked him. "I want you Lucy, I really do. I have wanted you since our first date, hell since the first time I met you, but I didn't want it to be a one time thing, I wanted to really get to know you before I had you." Bob confessed. "And I guess that dress was just the thing to send me over the edge. It looks so pretty on you baby, such a shame that it's going to end up in the floor." Bob smirked as he pulled her away from the wall to head towards her bedroom.

Somewhere along the way Bob had managed to free himself from his shirt but as he sat Minx back down to her feet in her bedroom, he was struggling to get her dress off. She wasn't helping the situation by constantly kissing and touching him. He pried her off of him. "Minx I swear to God I am about 5 seconds from ripping this dress off of you. Where is the zipper he asked turning her around to search for it. She laughed and gestured to her side. Bob quickly unzipped the dress and it pooled around her feet for her to step out of it. Once she was free of the garment, Bob took a moment to truly admire her body as she stood there bare before him.

"You weren't lying about the panties thing." Bob chuckled. "I would never lie to you Bobby." Lucy replied her voice smooth like honey. "Now are you just going to stand there and look at me all night or are you going to touch me?" She challenged him.

"Who says I won't do both?" He asked taking a step towards her. He reached out his hand and placed it on her hip and pulled her flush against him. He groaned at the feeling of their burning skin colliding.

"Bob... are you going to take your pants off... I really hope I'm not the only one who's getting naked tonight." Lucy murmered against his skin as she kissed every inch that was exposed to her. "Maybe I should help you like you helped me." She breathed out as her hands found the waist band of his jeans. She gripped his length through the front of his pants and stroked him a few times. Bob growled at the sensation.

She quickly undid his belt and whipped it out of the loops and made hasty work of his jeans pulling his boxers down with them. His length slapped against his abdomen. Bob was already impossibly hard, his head red and dripping precum, the veins thick as they wrapped around his girth. Minx gasped at the sight of Bob naked before her. Now it was her turn to stare. She saw a blush spread over his body. His mouth opened as if to say something but he quickly closed it. All the bravado Bob had once shown slipped away.

"Jesus fucking Christ Bob, I can't believe you've been hiding all of this from me. You're gorgeous baby." Minx cooed as she placed her hands on him.

"You really think so?" Bob asked in a boyish tone not quite believing her. "Really baby, now why don't you sit down and let me show you just how hot I think you are." Lucy said pushing him to sit on the edge of her bed. Bob gladly followed her orders and sat down. Once he was comfortable, Lucy sunk to her knees infront of him.

"Baby, Minx, you don't have to do that if you don't want to." He said stopping her before she took him in her mouth. God he was so sweet. "I know that Robert, but I want to." Minx replied. Any protest he had after that died on his lips as Minx took his length in her mouth. She had been dying to taste him and boy was he delightful. He was surely the biggest she had ever been with and unfortunately she couldn't take all of him in her mouth so she wrapped what she couldn't take in her hand and began to stroke him.

Bob threaded his fingers in her hair, not to push or pull her head ask she worked his shaft but just as another point of contact. She flattened her tongue along the underside of his shaft and licked him from base to tip. Her free hand grabbed his balls to show them some love as well.

"Jesus Minx... feels so good." Bob moaned "Such a good girl, sucking my cock so well." He praised her. His comments went straight to her soaked core causing her to clench around nothing.

She could tell he was getting close, she could feel him squirming and his thighs tensing under her hands.

"God Luc, I'm so close, if you don't stop I'm going to finish, Minx... I....I" Lucy doubled down on her efforts hollowing out her cheeks and sucking even harder. She teased her tongue over his slit and took him all the way down her throat.

"Shit... shit... shit... holy... oh my God!" Bob screamed as he released in her mouth. He fisted one hand in the sheets the other in her hair. Minx continued to suck him through his finish. Once she was sure he had come down and she felt him softening in her mouth she pulled off of him with a pop.

She rocked back on her calves and looked at him with the most innocent doe eyes like she just hadn't given him a mind blowing orgasam and said "Did you enjoy that Lieutenant Comander Floyd?" Bob let out a strangled cry as looked at the woman before him.

"That was amazing baby." He said finally able to form a coherent sentence. But now I get to have my fun with you." He grinned wickedly and patted the bed next to him for her to join him.

She quickly climbed on the bed and he directed her to lay back. Lucy gladly welcomed his body over hers as he began to touch her everywhere. He trailed kisses across her breast swirling each nipple in his mouth and nipping the skin. "Bob please touch me." She gasped as he grazed his fingers down her thighs. "I am touching you." He teased. "Not what I mean, show me how nimble those fingers really are baby" She practically begged.

"Oh so you want to know if me being a Wizzo makes me good with my hands?" He grinned "Well, I can assure you sweetheart, you are about to find out just how good I can be with my hands."

Finally two fingers grazed her slit and collected the wetness that had been pooling. "So wet for me baby I love it." Bob croaned has he circled her wetness around her swollen clit. Lucy threw her head back at the contact. The man had barely touched her and she was already a mess.

Bob wasted no time quickly sinking his ring and middle finger into her, burying them past the knuckle. He curled them inside her velvety walls and stroked them. "Oh sweetheart you feel so tight just around my fingers, can't wait to feel my cock in here." He moaned as he continued to push her closer to the edge. His thumb quickly found her clit and he began to circle it in tandem with the thrust of his fingers.

"Oh Bob, Bobby, feels so good, please don't stop, please, please." Minx thrashed her head trying to keep herself grounded as Bob added a third finger and began to fuck them into her faster. "That's it darlin' you're taking my fingers so good. Love seeing you like this, come on baby cum for me, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers, I know you can do it." Bob encouraged her as he kissed her passionately.

He quickly curved his wrist to hit a new angle and different spot inside of her and that was all Lucy needed to fall part. She screamed Bob's name as she came fast; her cunt gripping onto his fingers for dear life as he drew out her high. She whined at the loss of contact when he pulled them out of her, but her eyes went wide as she watched Bob suck her juices off of them.

"Damn baby, you taste even better than I thought you would, I'm going to have to have more of that. Bob said. "Do you trust me Luc?" He asked her earnestly. "Of course I do baby." She replied. "Good, then come here and sit on my face." Bob said laying back. "Are you sure Bob?" That doesn't seem safe." Minx questioned. "Minx, we fly fighter jets for a living and this is what you question the safety of? Just trust me. I promise I will take good care of you. Now get up here and ride me instead of a plane for a change. That's an order from your superior officer." Bob commanded. Lucy wasn't sure where this dominant side of Bob was coming from, the only time she had ever seen him like this was when he was giving Phoenix directions, but Minx loved it.

She quickly scrambled up the bed and placed a thigh on either side if his head. She gripped her headboard for support as Bob latched onto her thighs and pulled her flush against his face. He wasted no time diving into her like a starved man. His tongue plunged into her folds while his nose tickled her clit. She had just enough sense to reach down and yank his glassed from his face and place them on top of her head so she wouldn't break them.

His large hands found the curve of her ass and gripped it tightly. He gave her a harsh spank which cause her to jump. Lucy slowly began to circle her hips on Bob's face which earned her a groan of praise from him which sent shivers down her spine. She grabbed onto the headboard as Bob pulled her closer to him if possible. He started to draw figure eights with his tongue over her clit and Lucy knew she was done for. "Fuck Bobby, that feels so fucking good. I'm going to... please don't stop Bob... please I... I...I" She wasn't really sure what she was asking for at this point but thankfully Bob knew what she needed. He moaned into her core and held her tighter. She was sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises on her hips tomorrow but she was too far gone to care at this point. All Lucy could do was hold on and chant his name as her second orgasam washed over her.

Once she was able to come down enough from her high, she gently removed her thighs from his head and collapsed on the bed next to him her whole body felt like jelly. "That was something else baby" she said rolling over next to him. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." He stated pulling her in for a kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue.

Bob broke away and looked at her, his gold rimmed glassed still sat perched in her hair. Bob wasn't sure why, but that was one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

"Um Lucy, I know this is probably a bad time to bring this up but I don't have any condoms with me" Bob admitted thinking about what was to come next. "I'm on the pill Bob, and I'm clean." Lucy replied nonchalantly. "I'm uh clean too." He replied quickly. "So I think we're covered if you want to keep going." She whispered. "Oh I definitely do." He replied.

"Here, you might want your glassed back." Minx said as she went to untangle them from her hair. Bob placed his hands out to stop her.

"No, leave them on" he whispered darkly. "As you wish." She replied. "How do you want to do this?" Lucy asked him.

Instead of replying Bob quickly spun her around placed her ass in the air and her face in the mattress. "You okay with this?" He asked. She nodded her head. That was all the permission he needed as he slowly pushed into her from behind. The stretch of his cock felt amazing. She felt deliciously full when he was finally all the way in. "Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight. It's like you're pussy was made for my cock." Bob mewled as he bottomed out. He gave her a moment to adjust to his size before he he slowly began to thrust in and out of her.

Lucy rocked her hips back to meet his. "Faster, harder, please Bob, fuck me like you mean it." She moaned out. Bob was always eager to please so he picked up the pace slamming his hips into her.

"God look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut. You like that, you like it when I fuck you like the little sluy you are?" He asked. Minx moaned in response. Bob quickly gave her a hard spank which caused her to yelp.

"I asked you a question, I expect you to answer me. Used your words. Now let's try this again." He began gruffly as he pulled her hair, yanking her head back towards him.

"I said do you like it when I fuck you like the little slut that you are. Do you like being my good girl and letting me fuck you?"

"Yesss." Lucy moaned out.

"Yes what?" He growled spanking her again

"Yes sir, I love it when you fuck me like this." She responded.

"Good girl" her replied. Minx could feel another orgasam building in her stomach. Bob was winding her up tight. She felt the amazing smack of his hips against hers with every thrust. The sounds of their wetness combining was almost sinful and she could feel his glasses bouncing against her head with every stroke.

"Ungh I'm so close Bob!" She cried out. Bob quickly pulled out of her and flipped her on her back. Minx whined at the loss of contact but quickly moaned when he filled her up again.

"Want to see those pretty eyes when you cum for me baby." Bob said before kissing her again.

She wrapped her legs around him and gripped his shoulder blades trying to pull him closer to her. His hips were relentless as he pushed into her over and over. With this new angle he was dragging the head of his cock over her g-spot with each thrust. Her nails dug into his skin but Bob was too lost in the moment to care. Sure they might leave some raw red marks for the boys to gawk at in the locker room on Monday but he did not care. All he cared about in this moment was fucking the woman he loved until she couldn't walk right.

Lucy couldn't barely breathe as Bob continued to push into her. She couldn't think of anything other than him and the pleasure he was giving her. She had a fucked out expression on her face and she wasn't able to form a complete sentence as she groaned out. "Bob, close, please" She begged. "Me too princess, cum for me, you can do it, just one more time for me sweetheart, I love you, I know you can." He praised her has his nimble fingers found her clit and began to rub circles around it.

A few particularly deep thrusts in combination with his praise sent Lucy over the edge with a mind blowing orgasam. Bob's name fell from her lips like a prayer and she came hard around him. Which sent him into his own finish. Bob continued to fuck her through her high as he painted her insides with his hot release.

Totally spent he pulled out and collapsed beside her.

"Baby, that was phenomenal. I am so sorry it took me so long to do that." Bob said as he tried to regain his sanity.

"It's fine honey. It was worth the wait. Lucy replied kissing him. He quickly left the bed and went to the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm wash cloth to clean both of them up. Lucy went over to her dresser and found a pair of sweat pants that she had stolen from Bob and tossed them to him so he had something to sleep in. She grabbed a clean pair of sleep shorts and an over sized shirt to slip into. She climbed back into bed and into Bob's arms. "Oh yeah she thought. This was definitely worth the wait."

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87

[coco-loco-nut]

The Captain’s Daughter (2)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/OC

Warnings: Angst maybe, sibling fluff, sadness, a lot of sadness

Summary: Maverick adopted Goose and Carole’s daughter, she’s one hell of a pilot, and Bob is smitten

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | alternate ending | part 4

masterlist

______________________

..."Get ready, it's a long story," She sighs, sipping her drink.

        "I'm always ready," Bob smiles, lightening the mood a little.

        "My dad, Nick Bradshaw -callsign Goose- was Maverick's RIO which is now WSO. They flew in the same class as Admiral Kazansky. In an exercise, Uncle Tom -Iceman- and Mav, were competing, trying to get the missile lock on a MiG. Uncle Tom was trying to best Mav but when he couldn't get the shot, he pulled away. Mav flew into Tom's jet wash which forced him and Dad to eject. Dad was caught by a piece of the jet and he didn't make it. Mav's blamed himself since and so has Uncle Tom," She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "Mom was pregnant with me at the time, though she didn't find out till a month later. Bradley was four. My mom died in childbirth, so I never knew my actual parents. Mav adopted me but only took guardianship of Bradley. A woman named Charlie helped Mav out for a bit at first, but Penny and Sarah, Uncle Tom's wife, raise us while Mav was on missions. Otherwise, we grew up on base. Uncle Tom taught us how to fly, even Cyclone helped a little, as much as he hates Mav. Jake and I were good friends, we fed off each other's arrogance, even if I was more humble. Now he's done damage that won't be easy to fix."

        Nicole pauses again before continuing. "I wouldn't have gotten upset if I weren't already upset. I've been off since I won the first exercise. I can't seem to get a handle on the mission and I just found out that Uncle Tom's throat cancer is back and worse, Mav and Rooster don't know yet and I shouldn't have shared that. But, I don't want to lose him. He was Mav's wingman and my mentor. I don't want to attend a funeral while I'm here. So yeah, I guess Jake just pressed a nerve that was already hurt," Nicole finishes, letting the information sink into Bob.

      "I'm so sorry Gatsby. That is a lot. I can see what Mav is like now, I can't even imagine what he was like over twenty years ago. Thanks for sharing that with me, unlike Bagman, I won't spill your family secrets. Admiral Kazansky was really your Uncle and Mav's wingman?" Bob slightly changes the topic, trying to lighten the mood.

      "Oh yeah. When we get back, I can show you all the pictures. I can even break into Uncle Tom's office on base and show you some embarrassing childhood pics," Nicole cheers up a little. The two down their drinks and head back. Phoenix misses her WSO but her bet with Payback and Fritz might be paying off.

        After showing the large picture of Iceman and Maverick hanging up, she gives a little picture tour and pulls out a key to the office labeled 'Admiral Tom Kazansky, Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet.'  Bob wonders how she got it but doesn't ask.

        "This is a picture of Bradley and me with Uncle Ice when we stayed with him and Sarah after Dad got in trouble and deployed," Nicole hands a frame to Bob. As he holds it, he notices half-packed boxes around the office. "Sarah gave me the key to start packing up in here. Uncle Tom works mostly from home anyway so I offered to bring his stuff home," Nicole smiles sadly as she picks up a family photo. It was Tom and Sarah with their kids -both now live on the east coast- alongside Mav with Gatsby and Rooster.

         A week later Nicole is standing beside Sarah and Bradley in her dress uniform. Katie and Ron, Tom's children, were on the other side of Sarah. Nicole catches Bob's gaze in the middle of the service, he can tell she is holding back the tears even if some had already fallen. Penny was on the opposite side of Bradley, supporting her friends and Pete as he stood at the casket. For every shot, a tear rolled down her cheek. Bradley held Nicole's hand tightly, hurting just as much.

          Maverick couldn't cry, Captain's don't cry. When he pounded his wings into the casket, it was his final farewell to his wingman. Tom would forever be the better pilot. He always was. As the funeral ended, the Mitchells and Kazanskys hugged each other and made future dinner plans. Katie and Ron were leaving soon and wanted to catch up with Bradley and Nicole. Bob and Hangman found their way to Nicole soon after. Each of them greeted her with a hug. They were the only two who truly knew how close both she and Rooster were to the Admiral. The rest of the 12 didn't pry, leaving them to mourn in peace.

        "I'm sorry, Gatsby. I know how much he meant to you," Bob wipes her tears from her cheeks.

       "I suppose I knew, but I wasn't ready. He's the first parental figure that I knew before losing," She says. Bob hugs her again before letting her rejoin Rooster in the procession out. She wrote Slider a letter offering her condolences for losing a partner an mailed it as soon as Uncle Tom has died. Gatsby has flown solo for a while, but she has seen the pain of losing a WSO or pilot. While she wasn't close with Slider, he had a recurring presence during her childhood.

A couple of days later, she decides to throw a party at her place for the core 8 as she's nicknamed the group. Rooster was the only one who didn't accept the invite, citing the timeline increase. Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, Hangman, Phoenix and Bob all arrive with different drinks in hand. The theme was an alcoholic potluck. It sounded fun. Half an hour later, everyone is starting to enjoy themselves and Phoenix and Hangman are flirting.

"I can't believe Mav would just hijack the course like that," Coyote says, looking at Gatsby who just shrugs. Rooster told her that Mav was permanently grounded after the funeral.

"My father isn't much of a rule follower," she snorts and throws back a shot. Bob, not being much of a drinker and the assigned DD, adds that to his tab on her. He is worried that she is trying to drown her sadness even if she wanted to bond with everyone. Payback hooks up to a speaker and starts playing music. When Nicole is completely trashed, she sits beside Bob, leaning into him. He awkwardly wraps an arm around her shoulders, not sure what to do. The group decided to share funny stories from different missions. Everyone passes out on the floor, except for Hangman who stumbles to the guest room to claim it. No one finds the second guest room. Bob finds blankets and pillows in a storage closet from Nicole's drunk directions and passes them out before turning everything off and carrying Nicole upstairs.

"Bobby, stay," Nicole slurs, pulling shorts and a ratty shirt out. She also grabs a set of what must be Mavs or Roosters old shorts and shirts, handing them to Bob. Bob awkwardly takes them as Nicole starts to strip. He blushes and quickly turns around. "Don't worry, I'll look the other way," Nicole tells Bob who doesn't turn around but takes her word and undresses. She admires his ass before quickly turning around as to not get caught.

"Alright to bed," Bob walks over to her, pulling up the sheets.

"Only if you sleep here too," Nicole says, to which Bob agrees. He plans on sneaking out of the bed as soon as she falls asleep. "Yay!" Nicole kisses Bob who after a second kisses back. As soon as Nicole tries to go further, he stops her.

"Gatsby, you're drunk. Another time," he promises and she cuddles into him. Bob internally sighs, hoping he didn't ruin their friendship.

When Nicole wakes up, she only vaguely remembers the previous nights events. She realizes that she is cuddling someone, being the big spoon to be more specific. Bob. She remembers kissing him, he must've fell asleep. A quick glance at her clock tells her that it's an hour before everyone needs to be up for today's brief. Nicole untangles herself, heading for the shower. After a quick, cold, shower, she puts on her uniform and heads to the kitchen. She doesn't worry about waking Bob up since her alarm is set.

"Morning," Rooster is leaning against the counter, a coffee in hand.

"What? You weren't even here last night," Nicole steals his coffee, taking a few sips.

"Yeah, when no one returned, I set an early alarm and came over to clean a little and help with breakfast," Rooster motions to the cleaner kitchen and groceries on the counter.

"I can't wait for you and Dad to move in," Mav bought this house after he realized that he wasn't going to be getting another assignment after this mission. He takes over after her rental contract expires. He wants to be close to Penny and the Kazansky's.

"I'll start the pancakes if you do the bacon?" Rooster offers, both of them quickly working to get food ready. Fifteen minutes later, people start waking up to the smell of food.

"Marry me, Gatsby," Hangman moans as he takes a bite.

"Then you will be doing all the cooking," Rooster tells him, not lying. Nicole is definitely not the cook of the family. She can, but it's not on Rooster's level.

"Good morning everyone," Phoenix walks in with Bob, who blushes a little when he sees Gatsby. Within thirty minutes everyone is fed and on their way back to the base.

"Good morning, Sir," Gatsby greets Cyclone in the hall.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Mitchell. We will be going over the valley simulation today. If you could get everyone to the briefing room, that would be appreciated," Cyclone informs her. With a quick nod, she changes directions to get everyone and inform them.

"Your Dad is insane," Bob whispers with a smile.

"He likes to break rules," Gatsby chuckles.

With Maverick being team leader, Gatsby knew there was only a slim chance of being selected as wingman. She hadn't mastered the route like Hangman and Rooster. While she was a great pilot, she is the youngest of the group and still has more to learn.

Hangman is assigned Dagger Spare One while Gatsby is given Dagger Spare Two. She is slightly jealous that she is the only one in the family being left behind, but she knows better than to question her father. She sits in her plane beside Jake listening.

"Come on Rooster, you can do it. Reengage," She whispers from the cockpit. Her heart breaks as she hears about Mav and Rooster both being hit and losing contact. It takes everything in her to stay in the plane and do her job. Hangman tries to get clearance but it doesn't work, her world slows down. Bob stands in her view, non verbally trying to support her. When he and Phoenix landed, it kept her from breaking. She hadn't lost everyone. As soon as Rooster's gps tracker is activated, she lets out a silent sob of happiness. But when the bogie appears on the radar, her heart drops again. Mav has no defenses.

      "Dagger spare two, permission to take off in support," She requests, readying to take off.

     "Dagger spare one, dagger spare two prepare to take off," command says. With a nod to each other, friendship restored, they prepare for a dogfight. She doesn't look at Bob's worried expression.

     "I'm going to lure him away so Maverick can land on the carrier," Gatsby says, intercepting the enemy before it can get lock on Mav and Rooster, who finally activates his radio.

     "Keep him going, I've almost got him!" Hangman says as she is close to being locked on.

     "Hurry up!" She panics as tone starts. Like Rooster and Maverick, she saved them but it will cost her.

      "She copied Rooster," Phoenix says on the boat, a little breathless from shock. They can hear Hangman yelling her actual name, everyone knowing what the next few seconds will bring even if they don't want to admit it.

     "I'm sorry Dad, Bradley, Jake. I tried," Gatsby cries over the radio as her plane is hit.

       "Dagger spare two is down, I repeat, Gatsby is down," Hangman cries out.

      "Gatsby. Nicole," Bob whispers sadly. Maverick and Rooster yell out her name and someone turns it off on the deck, preparing for Maverick and Jake's landing and search and rescues attempt to retrieve her from the ocean, if she was able to eject. Even if she did, it's likely that she hit the water wrong.

    A young man, blonde and wearing a flight suit, stands in front of the confused girl. Ahead of her is a field of wildflowers and she seems to be on a patio with doors that leads somewhere. She realizes that he is saying something she can't hear.

    "-ole. Nicole. Can you hear me?" He says, his voice sounding familiar.

    "Who are you? Why do you know my name? Where am I?" She fires off questions and he laughs at her, only increasing her confusion.

    "Really kiddo? I'm only the best goddamn pilot the Navy had to offer, and the best uncle ever," He smiles and everything clicks.

     "Uncle Ice! Am I dead? Why are you hot?" Nicole hugs him as he laughs.

     "Not yet, you are in sort of an in-between. You have a choice to make. Although, I think it's pretty obvious. As to why I'm hot, I've always been this way. I used to get around before Sarah. Tell Mav to drop his dating rule and give Bob a chance. He's been worried. Before I go and you decide, there are two people who are here to see you. I love you kiddo," Iceman tells her, giving her a tight hug. It's odd seeing him so young, and honestly, her uncle was hot. As he leaves through a door, two people who she's only seen in pictures walk in.

     "Mom? Dad?" Gatsby gasps, running to them and hugging them. She's getting a lot of hugs for a change, not that she minds.

    "My baby. We are so proud," Carole says, taking in her daughter.

     "You are one hell of a pilot. You and Bradley both. Better than Maverick, and better than your brother. Ice would kill me again if I said you were better than him. I'm proud that you three have honored both of us in so many ways. Always singing Great Balls of Fire, carrying our favorite book, having my name, Bradley's call sign," Nick tears up a little, his daughter isn't as much of a copy and paste like Bradley is. To Nick, she is the perfect combination of himself and Carole. The selfish part of him wants to keep her here.

    "Mav flying the F-14, and me ejecting into the ocean then dying?" Nicole offers with a small smile.

    "Yes, even that. We have and always will watch over the three of you. Yelling at Maverick more has become Iceman's greatest past time," Carole laughs, squeezing her daughters arm.

     "Nicky, sweetie, you have a choice to make. You can return or stay here with us," Nick says a bit sadly.

    "Will I still be a pilot?"

    "That's also up to you, baby. We will support you either way," Carole tells her. The once obvious choice has become more difficult. She wants to spend more time with her parents, obviously, but she also has a lot of people waiting on her back home. She has Bob waiting for her.

     "I hope you both know how much I dreamed of this. Well not being dead, but seeing you, living with you. Bradley and Dad did their best to fill me in, but a large part of me was missing my whole life. I always needed you," Nicole says, slightly unsure of her decision, but confident at the same time.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

She’s Imperfect, But She Tries for the ask game? (Song lyric fics my bELOVED)

Thank you anon! I do actually know this song! That's a first for me (but anything from a musical your odds are pretty good I'll know it 😅). However, this isn't a direct lyric fic but I hope you still like it!

No one knows where Bob disappears to every afternoon just after training is over. Most of the other aviators relax in their rooms, hang out in the common area, or head down to the Hard Deck for drinks. Yet like clockwork, Bob is nowhere to be found from 3-5 every day. Finally, the other Daggers decide to figure out this mystery and follow him. To their surprise, he goes to a small hole-in-the-wall dinner on the edge of town and sits down at a booth in the corner alone. Following him inside, they make a big deal about being surprised to see him there, though he looks equally surprised and flustered at the Daggers' sudden appearance. But before he can say anything, a waitress comes over to the table. She is cute, though sort of plain, her hair tied up into a messy bun on top of her head. But it is instantly clear she is the reason Bob comes here every day based on the smile that breaks out across his face. And the waitress smiles back just as brightly. "Hiya, Bobby. Wow! Looks like ya brought the whole gang with ya this time! I'll have ta get more menus!" "T-thanks, Jenna. Sorry about this. I didn't know they'd all be here." "That's ok, honey! The more the merrier!" She winks at him, takes everyone's drink orders, and hurries away. When she is gone, Hangman leans over and whistles. "Way to go, Bob-o. She's a real catch." Bob shakes his head. "It's not like that. Jenna is… She's just a friend. I stumbled on this place a few months ago and stopped for a quick bite and she was just really nice. So, I started coming back and we've gotten close. But she's just a friend," he insists again. Jenna comes back with a tray of drinks. As she sets them down, she gives half of them to the wrong person, spills Phoneix's water, and it turns out she got Rooster a Sprite instead of a Coke. The Daggers exchange side-eyed glances, but Bob never takes his doe-eyed stare off of her. When she rushes off to get some more napkins, Rooster chuckles. "Damn, Bob. You've got it bad for this girl. No offense, but she's not so great at her job. Yet you keep coming back just to see her?" Bob shrugs. "I guess everyone is looking for a perfect person. Someone with no flaws or who never makes mistakes. Jenna isn't that. She's imperfect, but she tries. She always has a smile on her face and remains so upbeat and kind, no matter what happens. And she never gives up or stops trying to make things better. I've never met someone like her…." He trails off in a dreamy sigh as he watches her pick up a stack of menus she had just knocked over. "Bob, just ask her out. You know you want to," Phoenix urges. "It's clear she likes you too." "I-I don't.." Bob blushes a deep red but shuts his mouth as Jenna comes back with the napkins. "Sorry about that! I can be such a klutz sometimes!" When she has cleaned up the water, she places a plate in front of Bob. "And I went ahead and brought yoa your pie, Bobby." She smiles as she turns to the other Daggers. "Every day he comes in here for a slice of the flavor of the day. The boy does love his pie!" "Actually…" Hangman pipes up. "I think he's more interested in something else… or should I say someone else." Bob kicked at Hangman under the table, but missed and hit Rooster instead. He let out a small yelp, but Jenna didn't seem to notice. Instead, her eyes were locked on Bob, a hopeful gleam shining in them. "Oh? Really? Bobby, is there sometin' I can get you?" Gulping audibly, Bob whispers "You…. I mean, would you maybe wanna go out sometime?" Jenna squeals as a smile breaks out over her face. "Boy, do ya know how long I've been waitin' for ya to ask me that?" "You… you have?" "Why sure! I mean, I know our pies are good and all, but honey, no one loves pie enough to come in here every day for months just for that. I was hopin' ya'd eventually get up the nerve to ask me out. But I didn't wanna push ya into it either." She winks at Hangman. "Luckily ya got some really good friends to do that for ya." Bob looks around at the Daggers. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Timeless Masterlist

one

two

three

[bobfloydsbabe]

morning after | robert 'bob' floyd x oc

Rating: T+ Word count: 500+ Prompt: Did you sleep well? Warning(s): Brief mention of sex (non-explicit), kissing (?) Summary: Abby Lennox wakes up alone after a night with Bob.

A/N: A little drabble for my darling friend @anna-phora who's had one hell of a bad day. This is quite possibly the softest and fluffiest thing I have ever written, and I am just in love with Bob and Abby. Enjoy, my friend.

Abby woke in a bed that wasn’t hers. Pale morning light filtered through the curtains, casting shadows on the ceiling and the empty space beside her.

She smiled to herself, thinking of the night before. She had never felt that alive, that appreciated, that worshipped. It had been the most incredible, mind-blowing sex of her life, and she was sure he had ruined whatever may come after him for her.

She turned over in the bed, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to check the time. It was barely 6 a.m., but the sound of clinking mugs and a noisy coffee maker carried through from the kitchen to the bedroom. They had to be on base by seven, so while it was a little early to get started, she was happy to have a few more moments with him.

If he wasn’t regretting taking her home, of course.

As if summoned, the door to the bedroom opened. Bob walked in, wearing only his boxer briefs, carrying two steaming mugs. “Do you take anything in your coffee?” He asked, setting the mugs down on the nightstand where Abby’s phone had previously been.

She shook her head. “No,” she told him. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, pulling the sheet against her chest. Bob hovered by the bed, his bright blue eyes unsure behind the gold-rimmed glasses.

“You can sit,” she told him, sipping from her mug.

“Yeah?”

Abby nodded, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah.” She folded her legs under her so there was room for him on the edge of the bed. He grabbed his own mug and took a long sip.

She admired the way his muscles moved and was still in awe at how broad-shouldered and fit he was. Should she be surprised, given how much physical strain was placed on the body in a fighter jet? No, but Bob hid it well.

“How did you sleep?” He asked, setting his mug back down.

“Like the dead.”

He looked at her, brows drawn together and nose scrunched up in confusion.

She chuckled. “I slept really well,” she told him, hoping it put his mind at ease. “Wish you were here when I woke up, though.”

Abby watched as a flush spread through Bob’s cheeks, giving his face more color than usual, and she felt herself reach out to place her palm over it. His eyes seemed to close involuntarily at the touch. She let her hand fall back down, and Bob’s blue eyes opened again. They had turned serious, but the softness never left them.

“I hope you don’t…” he began, trailing off, “regret last night.”

“No,” she assured him, placing her mug back on the nightstand. “Not at all.” She put her hands on either side of his face, making him look at her. She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and scooted closer to him. She brought his face down to hers, so they were breathing the same air.

She only half-realized that the sheet fell off her, exposing her to him, but Abby didn’t care because the moment Bob’s lips met hers again was everything. She wanted him, and if the large hands wrapping around her back, bringing her flush against his chest was anything to go by, she’d say he wanted her too.

❋❋❋

all or nothing taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @jvstjewels, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @waterloou, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns

top gun oc tag (let me know if you want to be added): @anna-phora, @itsjustgracy, @captainrcgers

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Bob Master List

Back to Main Master List

One Shots

Massage [*] - GN!Reader

CW: Suggestive Content/Situations

Summary: You know that your boyfriend Bob is stressed from work, so you offer to give him a massage to relax.

Romancing the Navy's Princess [*] - Fem!OC (Maya) (Adopted!Mitchell-Kazansky OC)

CW: Implied/Referenced Sexual Content

Summary: Bob is not the type of guy to hook up with a random woman in his car. Maya something-or-other changes that streak. Except Maya something-or-other turns out to actually be Maya Kazansky-Mitchell.

Bubble Bath - GN!Spouse!Reader

Summary: You have a long week at work. Bob has a surprise for you.

Hands to Yourself - Wife!Reader

Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.

I'll Be Home for Christmas - Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.

A Lesson in Love - Female!Reader

Summary: Bob has no plans for Valentine's Day. So, he gets set up to meet his niece's very cute teacher instead.

Multi-Part Stories

The President's Son Part 2 - Fem!OC (Venus)

CW: Bodyguard AU; Threats of Violence

Summary: Threats are made against Bob’s life. Venus is not looking forward to being a babysitter.

DISCONTINUED

[veenie-weenie]

theyre in love guys i swear

[purplemang0z]

Hehehehehe Them!!! 💕💕💕💕

Tw: Blood

[princessphilly]

Bob definitely is lowkey an exhibitionist. Yes we know homeboy is shy and likes to hide. But the thrill of being caught. Of people not expecting it to be him and his s/o that are making all that noise. Bitch gets off on the duality. He's whispering the whole time about how hot it would be getting caught fucking his s/o dumb.

I’m going to combine these asks. I’m going to answer these thots with a snippet of my upcoming Bob fic set in the same universe as Call Me Jake and The Rooster and I.

It was 0500, the rest of the carrier would be waking up soon. Verity should be one of those still asleep for the next half hour but she was in VFA-32’s ready room. Not only was the engineering in their ready room, a bespectacled NFO was banging her over the makeshift bar 32 had in their ready room.

“Fuck,” Verity muttered, trying to keep her voice down but it was so fucking good. Bob was just that fucking good and all thoughts just left her brain as she keened.

“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart, don’t want the rest of the boat to know what we’re doing this early,” Bob hissed in Verity’s ear, his thrusts slowing to the point where he was just inside of her. “Can you be a good girl and be quiet for me?”

Verity nodded before pulling Bob’s lips down to her own.

[flamingos-fictional-others]

I MADE HER A COSTUME OFF REF!!

i love her she’s so cute

(PRETTY PLEASE REBLOG!! LIKES DO NOTHING!!)

[azzynico]

Another post of my boy stealing Bob's sweater, because yes

He looks so squishy, but damn I suck at body hair

[coco-loco-nut]

The Captain’s Daughter (1)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader/OC

Warnings: Angst maybe, sibling fluff, sadness

Author’s Note: I wrote most of this at 3am so it’s kinda bad and there are def plot holes :)

Summary: Maverick adopted Goose and Carole’s daughter, she’s one hell of a pilot, and Bob is smitten

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | alternate ending | part 4

masterlist

_________________________________________

        "Lieutenant Mitchell," Cyclone says to the blonde girl standing beside her brother. "Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone acknowledges him. "Welcome back to Top Gun," Cyclone gives them a rare on-base smile. As much as he didn't like their father, he watched the siblings grow up and become excellent pilots. The last part probably had something to do with his and Iceman's tutelage, even if Maverick didn't say so.

    "Thanks, Uncle Beau," Nicole 'Nicky' Mitchell smiles back, dropping all procedures - a trait she gets from her father.

    "It's been a while, we won't let you down, sir," Bradley offers a small smile. The pair ran into Cyclone as they were heading off base.

     "Keep your father out of trouble," Cyclone tells them as they part. Nicky and Bradley head to his Bronco, knowing they will find their father and other callbacks at the Hard Deck.

      Maverick had adopted Nicole right after her birth as Carole died in childbirth. Bradley was never officially adopted, but Mav was his legal guardian regardless.

       The two step out of the Bronco, Bradley in his Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. Nicky was wearing a tank, jean shorts, and Maverick's aviators. Bradley may be five years older, but the two were very close. The first person Nicky looked for was Penny.

     "Penny!" She cheers as she gets closer to the bar. Bradley goes to greet Phoenix.

     "Nicole, I've missed you around here," Penny hugs her. A tone in her voice signals that Mav did something to throw her off a little.

     "Me too, how's Amelia?" Nicole smiles, brushing back a strand of her hair.

     "Great, she misses you. Do you want a round? It's on your father," Penny smiles as Nicole nods her head.

      "What am I? An F-14?" Maverick says from her left.

     "Of course not. Penny is just a Fifth Gen while you are an F/A-18," Nicole teases and hugs him.

      "I can order you to do push-ups," Mav reminds her. "You better save your brother from that hot shot over there," He nods to the pool table. Nicole spots Jake Seresin and blushes a little.

        "Here you go, kiddo," Penny hands two beers to Nicole.

       "If it isn't Gatsby. Man, you get prettier every time I see you," Hangman leans on his pool cue, stolen from Bob. Nicole gives the second beer to Rooster before taking another step toward Hangman, steeling herself against his nearly irresistible charm.

     "Shut it, Bagman. Still not interested," Nicole swipes the cue out from under his arm, causing him to stumble a little. Nicole hands his back to Bob with a small smile.

     "I saw him snatch it from you. I'm Gatsby," Nicole extends her hand to the cute blond.

     "Bob, callsign Bob," He smiles awkwardly and shakes her hand.

     "Nicole. It's nice to meet you, Bob. Are you a pilot or WSO?"

     "WSO. You?" Bob asks, turning to the table to take a shot.

     "Pilot," Nicole replies before Bradley starts approaching the piano. Before Nicole can grab Mav to join in, Hangman and his gang are carrying him out for not being able to fully pay. With a shrug, she takes a seat beside Bradley and other pilots and WSOs gather around. The siblings launch into the song they knew by heart. One of these times Nicole is going to take over and do a different song, but today isn't that day.

      "Hey Gatsby," Phoenix smiles, pulling the other pilot into a hug.

       "Phoenix, it's been a while," Nicole smiles at her brother's naval best friend.

       "I saw you flirting with my new WSO," Natasha teases as Nicole groans, drinking the rest of her beer.

    "I was not, and you know that. Hangman was being a dick and I was being nice by returning Bob's pool cue. Not to mention, my father and brother have a very strict 'no Navy pilot or WSO boyfriend'." Nicole defends herself.

     "They said nothing about a girlfriend,"

     "As much as I love you, Nat, you just aren't my type. Unfortunately, it's men only for me," Nicole complains.

     "Are you two about to make out over here? That's hot," Hangman teases. As much as Hangman and Gatsby act like they hate each other, they are pretty good friends and graduated Top Gun together. Jake Seresin has a painfully large crush on both girls, and they both know it.

     "Shut it, Jake," Nicole playfully glares.

     "Make me," Hangman leans in before Rooster pushes him away.

      "Enough with my sister, Seresin," Bradley says as Natasha and Nicole try not to laugh.

      "Sister?" Fanboy asks, clearly confused as they don't share a last name. Although they do look eerily alike.

       "Alright, time to head home. See you tomorrow, Rooster. Mind giving me a ride, Seresin?" Nicole asks Hangman just to annoy Bradley. He was staying on base while Nicole has been living in a rental for the past month after staying on base. She's been stationed here the past couple months before getting the call to Top Gun again.

      "Of course," Jake was going that way anyway and it was a good way to catch up. "You still aren't interested?" He teases as they get into his car.

     "No way. You are my best friend. You aren't my type anyway," Nicole pats his shoulder as he starts the route to her rental. He stayed there the past couple days but just moved onto the base. They definitely had their fun over those couple days, but she just wasn't interested.

     "Right. The no dating a Navy boy rule," He frowns, the rule being a problem in his crush. "This is you, Nicky," He smiles, putting the car in park.

    "Thanks, Jake," She gets out and heads to her front door. He only leaves when the door closes. Nicole lets out a sigh. Truthfully, she used to harbor a crush for him too, but it just disappeared over time, even the last few days weren't enough to resurrect it. Nicole sets out her uniform and materials needed for tomorrow's meeting. Iceman, Cyclone, and Mav haven't told her anything about the mission at hand.

    At 0600 her alarm went off and by 0750 she is on base, ready for the 0800 brief. Bradley takes a seat beside her.

     "Do you think Mav will actually let us on the mission? If it's as dangerous as they say, Dad's death will be hanging over his head," Rooster whispers to her. Nicole silently agreed, her intuition told her that Mav disapproved of them being called back. She was flying last today so she found her old, tattered copy of The Great Gatsby in her bag. 'Nick Bradshaw' was written in permanent marker on the inside of the front cover. It was one of a few items she possesses from her biological parents. She picks up where she last left off.

      "Hey, Gatsby. Nice book, fitting," Fanboy sits beside her. Nicole looks up from the book, deciding whether to say anything.

     She decides on a simple "thanks".

     "Is that how you got your callsign? I promise I'll keep the story a secret if it makes you feel better," He continues on the conversation. She decides it's better to just put a bookmark in the book instead of risking losing her spot.

     "Kinda. It was my dad's book. I got the sign from my name, I was named after him,"

     "I thought your dad was Captain Pete Mitchell, not Jay," Fanboy furrows his brows.

     "Mav adopted me. My biological father, his name was Nick Bradshaw," Nicole shows the name written on the front cover. "My first name is Nicole and I bring this book everywhere so the name stuck. I'm also great so you can call me 'The Great Gatsby'," Nicole touts her ego a little, sending Fanboy a playful smile.

     "Well, I guess that explains why you and Rooster have different last names," He chuckles. Fanboy doesn't seem to have anything to add so he leaves Gatsby alone to read.

       "I love that book," Bob smiles, looking at the well-loved book in Gatsby's hands.

       "Me too, how's the exercise?" She asks, about to get ready to fly.

       "Tough. Maverick is good," Bob says, clearly exhausted from the pushups.

      "We will have to see who the better Mitchell is then," A competitive smirk appears on Nicole's face. She is competing against Rooster and Hangman for team leader, a task she doesn't take lightly. After a quick text to her uncle Iceman for some of Mav's weak spots, she puts on her flight gear and heads to her plane.

      As soon as her round starts, she does her best as wingman but Mav got Harvard and Yale pretty quick.

      "It's just you and me, Gatsby," Maverick says over the radio. She doesn't say anything as she strategically trails him as he looks for her. After five minutes of cat and mouse, she gets lock on him, using some of Ice's advice.

      "HA! Take that old man," Gatsby cheers, flying beside Maverick.

      "Okay, head back. That's all for today," Maverick is both disappointed and proud. Back on base, Cyclone sends Iceman a text informing him of Gatsby's victory. Cyclone now owes Iceman ten bucks, having bet on who would win. When she lands and exits the plane, Hondo gives her a thumbs up. She waits for Maverick so she can rub it in her dad's face.

      "How does it feel to lose. Maybe I should change my callsign to 'Better Mitchell'," Nicole beams. Mav just shakes his head, ruffling her helmet hair.

       "Tone it down kiddo, you got lucky and I know Ice helped you out. He told me he was going to expose my secrets to you and Bradley," Pete shakes his head.

        "You're just bitter that you lost your touch," she laughs, heading for the lounge where the other pilots and WSOs were waiting.

        "Great flying, sweetcheeks. Might give me some competition for team leader," Hangman smirks.

        "You wish, you will be lucky if you are my wingman," she returns his smirk with a wink. Their way of communication is usually a mixture of flirting and teasing.

          A few days later when they start the course, the stress begins wearing on everyone. Coyote and Hangman have been sitting on the information they got from the picture. Hangman knew that Gatsby and Rooster's dad died in an accident, but he didn't know who was flying and how Maverick got custody of them.

       "Now is not the time to think about the past," as soon as those words came out of Jakes's mouth, Nicole felt her stomach drop. She gives him a warning look but it's too late. "I can't be the only one who knew that Maverick flew with their father," Hangman reveals, and Rooster lunges at him.

        "You son of a bitch!" Rooster yells as everyone holds them back. All Nicole can do is hold back the tears as Maverick dismisses everyone. Mav goes after Bradley, leaving Nicole to sit alone with a broken heart. Any shred of love and respect for Jake was quickly fading away. Well, not completely alone.

         "Nicky," Jake says softly, crouching in front of her. Neither of them notices Bob watching.

        "Don't 'Nicky' me, Jake. You violated my trust and my friendship. I never told you that information and I don't know how you learned about my biological dad and Mav's relationship. Until you can respect my boundaries, don't count on my friendship," Nicole says through tears. Bob waits for Hangman to leave before he approaches his new friend.

         At first, he says nothing, just sitting beside her. "Nicole, I don't know the whole story and I don't expect you to tell me. So, as your friend, if it's okay with you, I'm going to sit here with you until you don't want me here," Bob says softly, rubbing small circles on her back. No one deserves to be hurt by their friend like that. She nods and calms down.

        "Thanks, I think talking it out might help. Do you mind meeting me outside the locker room in five?" Nicole asks. Fifteen minutes later, the two are on the beach outside the Hard Deck, beers in hand. Well, two in Gatsby's and a water in Bob's. "Get ready, it's a long story," She sighs, sipping her drink.