#lewis pullman imagine

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Got Ink? 💉 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x tattooed model!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of pain as a result of tattoos. Slight suggestive content if you blink | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Art comes in many different forms. And when you technically think about it, your body is a canvas that can be become a mural if you find yourself drawn to the beauty that tattoos bring. For WSO Bob Floyd, he appreciated art in every form and loved how patterns and colors could create something beautiful. When his sister invites him to a party for her job shortly after returning from a special mission with the Navy, Bob meets a woman who was the perfect canvas he’d ever seen.

Note: I cannot tell you how much I loved doing this request. As soon as I got it I was like, ‘I’m gonna love this,’ especially as someone who has tattoos and wants to have a lot (I have at least twenty planned) this was feeding my love for tattoos. To the anon who sent this request I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you’re okay with me choosing Bob since you said you wouldn’t mind if it was him or Jake—since I just did a Jake imagine I wanted to give Bob some love 🥹 Also I made it where reader was born in 1989 so if we were to go by Bob being born in 1993 like Lewis then she’d be about four years older since the events of TGM take place in 2019.

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They often say that when you get your first tattoo it will either be the one and only time you subject yourself to the temporary pain of permanent ink…or it becomes one of many.

“It’s an addiction”, people defend, though they should probably look up the term addiction before using it in such context.

For many it’s the appreciation of art. Whether expressing it by becoming a tattoo artist or wanting to capture the beauty by etching it onto their skin like they are its own personal canvas.

Tattoos come in many different forms. There’s the traditional/old school style that is very recognizable with its bold black lines outlining bright colors. People in their old age, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, are the ones usually seen with these types of tattoos. Neo-traditional is not that far off from traditional, just the lines are not as bold. Delicateness is seen with fine line tattoos. In recent years it’s become popular amongst the younger generation—not just because they are pretty to look at but if one has a job that’s strict on policy then they can hide them better.

The oldest style would be the tribal tattoos. Beautiful elaborate patterns in various sizes, they represent the culture one comes from. Like fine line, watercolor tattoos have become a popular style—taking away the traditional black ink used as an outline so the colors have the spotlight. No color in a piece is blackwork and then there’s realism where it’s pretty much a picture that was printed onto the skin. Go on Pinterest and you’ll find multiple images of patchwork style where a collection of pieces put together can be any style already mentioned.

Japanese style, patch, geometric, black & gray, anime, portrait, the list goes on and on. So many ways to put a design on one’s body where it will remain until they go to the next life. Some people stick to pieces that represent sentimental value, like family or childhood nostalgia, others will simply see something they like and go, “I think it looks cool.”

When looking at Y/n’s tattoos, both aspects were seen in the array of artwork coating her body. After getting all the pieces that represented a person, place, or thing that impacted her life, Y/n started to get whatever the hell she wanted—not having an explanation for anything other than, “it looked badass so I got it. No value behind it, I just wanted it.”

Like many newly turned teenagers itching to get their first tattoo, Y/n was bold and got an intricate design on one of the most painful spots. Her reasoning was if she did it, then any other place in the future wouldn’t be as bad. All through college whenever asked what she wanted for her birthday or holidays the answer was always money to get a tattoo. An artist herself, she majored in drawing while attending Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, also taking on an apprenticeship for a local tattoo artist. There she would get to work on her skills and tattoo people, progressing to doing tattoos on her legs and non-dominant arm. Anytime she traveled to a different state or country during the semester she studied abroad, Y/n got a new tattoo, wanting to have an array of styles from different artists on her body.

By the time she was 26, she had accumulated over 50 tattoos and still had room for more. From her neck down, artwork ranging from fine line to bold and traditional decorated her skin. Both her arms were half sleeves, ending just above her elbows with patchwork along her forearms and hands. The only place free of ink on Y/n was her face, though she did have her inner lip tattooed. If you asked her, it’d be the only place she regretted getting ink because it faded so quickly. But then again, she could get it redone if she really wanted to.

There were looks from people anytime she went out. Y/n loved dressing up in little black dresses and two piece sets to unapologetically show off her tattoos. Older, conservative couples or people who thought tattoos looked trashy on women would look down upon her. Getting hit on was normal, though she never gave the time of day and sending one look that read, ‘get lost’ had men scurry. Sometimes she'd be approached by teenagers asking about certain pieces, saying they wanted to get tattoos once they were of age and were looking for advice. Biker bars were a place she felt comfortable in, Y/n even taking a part-time job as a bartender so make some extra cash. People from all ages—well at least 21–were covered in tattoos like her.

In 2014, shortly after her 25th birthday, Y/n noticed an inbox notification in her instagram. She was used to getting messages on occasion. Being featured on the bar’s and tattoo parlors business instagram pages and accumulating her own following of potential clients had Y/n reach up to 80 thousand followers. The tattoo artist she worked for was very popular, having done work for celebrities and being featured in Inked Magazine.

Speaking of Inked Magazine…..

When Y/n clicked on the icon to open the message, the first thing she spotted was the blue checkmark. Then beside it was in bold lettering inkedmag. Coffee nearly spilled onto the floor when her grip faltered, gasping lightly at the name. She didn’t even realize the page was following her, confirming this by searching herself under their following and found her username staring back at her.

Heart pumping, Y/n opened the message. “Hi, Y/n, my name is Manda Williams and I’m a representative at Inked Magazine. We’re a fan of your profile and would love to work with you on our upcoming campaign. Would you be interested? Please email me at mandawilliaminked@gmail.com, I look forward to talking with you soon.”

Never did she think she’d become a model, let alone a tattoo model. She was taller than the average woman, standing at about 5’10 and strikingly beautiful. On countless occasions family members would say, “if you didn't have all that on you maybe you’d been discovered. You’ve got the height, the style, and high fashion look. Plus you’ll never get a well paying job with all those tattoos.” All they were met with was a roll of the eyes from the woman, annoyed with the constant nagging.

“I’m an artist,” she would defend. “I got accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in the country and I work for a very renowned tattoo artist who has had Snoop Dogg, Angelina Jolie, and Lady Gaga as clients. Not to mention I work at a biker bar where the people there love me. Want me to go further?” the look on their face would read they didn’t but Y/n would put the nail in the coffin with, “Let me point out the fact I get paid more with both those jobs combined than you working a nine to five in your little office job. Also you should educate yourself. Tattoo models do exist.”

If only those family members could see her now. Posing on a motorcycle in nothing but a bra and booty shorts as the camera flashed in front of her.

“You’re a natural, Y/n,” the photographer complimented, making her flustered.

She adjusted her position, running a hand through her hair, “If you think so I trust your judgment.” Being in a studio felt very different than when she would set up her phone on a tripod in her apartment. It took many tries for her to capture the perfect angle, often deleting fifteen out of sixteen photos. Here with this guy calling out movements, “a little to the left,” “bring your hand up—just under your chin, perfect,” “Now act like you’re suntanning on the beach—tilt your head back as though the sun is in your face,” Y/n felt what it was like to be a model.

Not many tattooed individuals got the chance to sign with top agencies like Ford and IMG. Very few were recruited so it came as a big surprise when an agent from IMG Models contacted her following the release of Inked Magazine’s issue. When she took the job she thought it would be a small section in the magazine itself. Instead, she was on the cover.

“You don’t have an agent?” Bonnie’s tone was confused, staring back at Y/n from behind her desk as they sat in her office at the IMG headquarters. Bonnie had seen her cover on Inked, immediately going to Y/n’s instagram where she contacted her though the email listed on the tattoo parlors page. From there she asked the artist to bring a portfolio, which she was shocked to find out wasn’t much. “That was your first model job?”

Y/n shrugged, making a face like it was obvious, “Unless you count the dozens of comments I get on instagram beggin for my next post, yeah it was. I’m a bartender and tattoo artist, modeling wasn’t something I thought was in the cards.” She refrained from adding, “also didn’t think IMG scouted people like me.”

It was safe to say Y/n was unlike the typical runway model. Every now and then a high fashion show would hire a man with tattoos to walk for them. Very rare would you see a woman on the runway. For Y/n, that seemed to be the case in the beginning of her career. She did walk in the Marco Marco show that year which was the highlight of her life. Inked Magazine got so much response on her first feature that they made her their staple girl. Y/n worked with them the most on campaigns and even got to do a cover shoot with celebrities like Travis Barker and Kehlani. Those features got her a lot of recognition to the point she hit one million followers on instagram.

It wasn’t until Y/n went viral on the internet for her Sports Illustrated cover and becoming the first inked model to be featured in a Victoria Secret campaign that the top designers were booking her. Before long she was auditioning for brands during fashion week, securing Tom Ford, Calvin Klein, and Oscar de la Renta. Due to her tattoos being the star of the show, there were hardly any clothes on her save for tiny tops and skirts or dresses with intricate cutouts. She didn’t mind of course. After all, her tattoos were a part of her and the reason she was getting the opportunities of a lifetime.

Milan, Paris, London, New York. Fashion week was gonna have to get used to a new face in town.

Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, Inked. Pick up an issue and you’d find Y/n on at least one page, if not the cover.

Every now and then she’d get asked to appear in music videos for bands. The Weekend once asked her to be the cover art for one of his singles, bringing her more attention as "The Inked Beauty from Blinding Lights cover art.”

She appeared on the Inked Magazine YouTube channel several times. The most popular video being when she did a Q&A released shortly after walking in the last ever Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2018, becoming the first inked model to walk the VS runway. Though it had low ratings, Y/n’s bit was plastered on every social media site, many tweeting: “the best thing VS could’ve done for their final show was put Y/n L/n in it. She carried the damn thing.”

“Hello, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled shyly at the camera, her agent Bonnie and publicist giving a thumbs up. “I’m a tattoo and high fashion model from New York City. You may recognize me from the cover of Inked Magazine, or discovered me through some of my other projects over the last couple years—hell maybe I even tattooed you at one point,” chuckling as she feels her nerves slowly evaporate. “Today I’m here with Inked Magazine, the owners of my heart and career, and I'm gonna answer some questions sent in by you guys about my tattoos and career.”

The producer gives a nod, “Ready, Y/n.”

“Let me hear them, sonny boy.”

“What was your first tattoo and at what age did you get it?”

Thankfully she was wearing a tube top beneath her jacket, removing the clothing to reveal the many inked designs on her chest, and stomach. Pointing to the one just below her ribs, Y/n says, “So this was my first one—as you can tell by how faded it is compared to the others. I got it when I was eighteenth birthday, literally wasted no time and my family is actually who inspired it.”

“As of right now, how many tattoos do you have?” The question has Y/n think for a moment, tilting her head back slightly.

“I counted just the other week and I think it was close to…. seventy,” nodding she adds, “yeah I think that’s right. I know I had fifty when Inked contacted me four years ago for my first feature. So I’ve added twenty to the collection since.” She made a mental note to count again when she got home that night.

“Do you have any tattoo regrets?”

A nervous chuckle escaped, “Fuck, uh….yes,” she looks down shamefully, but gives a shrug like, ‘I can explain.’ Lifting her head back up, Y/n takes her two index fingers and gently pulls down her bottom lip to reveal the messy smudged ink that once read, ‘baby girl’. The camera zoomed in and once they got a good shot of it Y/n let her lip fall back into place, “I don’t know if you were able to read that but when it was freshly done eight years ago it said,” she pulled a face showing she was too embarrassed to say it. “It said ‘baby girl.’ I got it when I was twenty on a dare and frankly I thought it would be hot, but it faded so quick—which,” she raised a finger, “that’s the one place I would say don’t get a tattoo. Even though it’s technically temporary…you’ll end up with a blob of ink like mine and it’s not cute.”

“Where were the most painful spots you got tattooed?” Immediately she lifted her arms to show she had ink on her armpits.

“These basterds right here,” the producer and crew laughed, nodding along with her. “You feel me? Yeah, I thought the ones on my stomach and ribs were bad. Those were a tickle compared to my armpits—-oh and my elbows. I think I actually broke a sweat when I got those done. It’s why I have yet to conquer my knees,” patting the covered area, Y/n shakes her head, “I don’t know If i can do it. But funny enough, these tiny little hearts on my palms,” Y/n flashed her palms up, the camera focusing on the two red lined hearts in the middle of each hand. “These hurt so bad. Thankfully I’m not putting anything else here because I strictly wanted the hearts, so I’m sparing myself.”

“What do they mean?” The producer asked, taking a pause from reading out the next question. The little smile Y/n gave was shy.

“I was told a lot growing up that I keep my heart in the palm of my hand,” while she explained Y/n kept glancing at the hearts, “kinda like the saying, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve,’ but with me it’s literally in the palm of my hand. So I got these little hearts on my palms—that way when I hold someone’s hand, they can feel the love and care I have for them,” sending a wink to the camera she finishes with, “because my heart is in my palm.”

“Have you ever dated anyone with more tattoos than you?”

“Noooo,” she snorts. “Not because I’m not open to it—I’m very attracted to people with tattoos. And I have dated people with a lot…it just seems that anytime I do get into a serious relationship, I’m the one who has more than the other. And if you’re thinking about who I think you are—,” Y/n points directly to the camera, like a mother scolding her child, “the answer is no, he did not have more than me. Louis has thirty-three, I believe, since the last time he and I talked—which was,” she pauses to think, “I think around New Year’s.”

“Do you find yourself enjoying campaign shoots or runway shows more?”

“That’s hard,” Y/n pouts, causing her agent to chuckle since she knew the answer first hand. “Both are fun in their own way. I love being able to come into a studio or go out on sight and do a photo shoot—except in the fucking winter because I’m usually half naked freezing my ass off.” She pauses to laugh with the crew before continuing. “And then there's this feeling of ‘wow, that just happened,’ when I step off the runway. Getting to work with designers I’ve idolized since childhood and being the face of Mugler is a dream come true. If I had to choose…..it would be campaigns and photo shoots. There I can express myself more freely.”

“Do you see yourself still modeling in ten to twenty years time?”

There was a question she had to think about, taking a moment before answering. “I sure hope so. I love my job and definitely see myself continuing in the future. As long as my agent Bonnie and Inked don't get tired of me,” she laughs, winking at the woman who blows her a kiss. “But honestly I have experience as a tattoo artist so I could see myself opening my own parlor. I’d love to start my own blog or get other tattoo models into the industry. There’s a lot to think about what the future holds, but for right now I’m gonna have fun in the present.”

While home in New York when not booked, Y/n continued to work part-time at the tattoo parlor. She left the bar shortly after signing with IMG, but still visited whenever she could. There was even a picture of one of her Inked shoots framed above the bar.

With her new found fame the parlor had little to no openings each month. Regulars and new clients had to call in to reserve an appointment the second the schedule was dropped, which was sometimes weeks in advance. Several of the friends Y/n made in the modeling industry would get tattoos from her, though they always tended to go for the fine line style. More celebrities booked with her boss, adding Cardi B, Rihanna, and Louis Tomlinson to the list. The latter whom, as mentioned, Y/n actually got romantically linked to in mid 2017. It only lasted a few months, but the photo of the two on the Inked instagram was the most liked on their page.

Louis wasn’t the only high profiled person Y/n was involved with. Unfortunately the downside to fame meant her personal life was to be blasted on every inch of the internet. From starting her modeling career in 2014 to spring of 2019, she’d been spotted with actors Michael B. Jordan, Tom Felton, and fellow model Vladimir Ivanov. Like Louis, they only lasted a couple weeks to months—save for Vladimir which lasted almost over a year—and ended on good terms where they remained friends.

Frankly when it came to settling down Y/n hoped to find someone who was sweet and down to earth. Who was a hard worker—passionate about what they did for a living and wanting to share that with her. Someone who could make her laugh and feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was hard finding someone like when the spotlight follows you around. Y/n had been in the public eye going on six years and due to her connections with big named people she never seemed to catch a break when it came to romance.

All those qualities she desired in a life partner came to her in the form of the adorable weapons system officer she met at a party in November of 2019. The poor guy felt so out of place. From behind the bar Y/n could see him at the corner glancing around like he was searching for someone. Only getting a glimpse at the side of his face, she didn’t recognize him. The party had many from the fashion industry to celebrate Anna Wintour’s 70th birthday. What was ironic was Y/n took up the task of working the bar, kicking into her skills from when she was a bartender at a popular biker club in Manhattan. With her view she was able to see the entire floor as people entered.

The man she’d been eyeing must’ve come in when she was busy making the Hadid sisters their drinks. He wore a white dress shirt with some slacks and a matching blazer. His glasses reminded her of the popular style from the 80s. Come to think of it, they were probably the aviator style. He was tall, roughly six foot so she’d be eye level with him considering she was wearing two inch kitten heels.

Seeing his flustered demeanor and the fact he looked like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing there—not to mention he was handsome from what she could see, Y/n waltzed over, “May I get you anything?”

When he spun around she was met with the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They blinked rapidly, like they were trying to decipher if she was in fact real. Then they snapped straight to her neck, following the ink of the exposed skin on display from her red latex mini dress—which his face mirrored the color of since he was making it quite known he was checking her out. He had a baby face to him, which was kinda adorable, and Y/n assumed he was maybe a year or two younger than her.

Offering a smile Y/n said, “So what will it be?”

“Huh?” He said confused before remembering what she initially asked before he got distracted. “Oh uh, just water please.” Still smiling, Y/n took a clean empty glass and filled it with ice before adding the water. Finishing it with a straw she placed it on a napkin in front of him.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you,” he took the glass, glancing around briefly before letting his shoulders drop.

“You seem a bit out of place,” Y/n wiped down the countertop, catching his attention again. The man nervously laughed, adjusting his glasses.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A bit,” she teased, nodding her head to the crowd in front of them. “All these people walk around like they own the place. You’re the first person I’ve seen tonight who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Are you here with someone?” Part of her was hoping he’d say a friend invited him, feeling a sudden rush of butterflies at the way he looked at her—like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“My sister dragged me along,” he confirms, the model mentally sighing in relief. But she couldn’t get her hopes too high. For all she knew he may have a partner back home. “I was visiting her this past week and she begged me to come. I told her it was a bad idea since I’m not….part of this crowd.”

“Ah,” she hums, biting back a grin at the way he described the industry. “Not a model or influencer, I take it?”

“Nooooo,” his laugh filled her stomach with butterflies. “Not at all. I don’t know how to work social media. Are you?”

Y/n refilled a guest's drink and handed over a beer to another, “I dabble here and there,” it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t familiar with her work. Usually at events like the one they were at she had people coming up to her already knowing who she was. “You’re probably like, ‘thought she was just a bartender,’” she giggled at the flustered look taking over him. “I was one before being discovered. I’m doing this for fun honestly—-and because Anna likes what I make her.”

His eyes went to her neck and collarbones, lingering on the ink. She assumed he’d never seen a model with so many tattoos before. “You can look,” she smirked, when he glanced away from being caught staring. “You’re only seeing a small portion of the canvas,” his eyes went wide at her words, making her giggle, “these babies are the reason I’m in this business.”

“You're a tattoo model?”

Y/n raises a brow at the surprise in his tone, “Didn’t know they existed, handsome?”

“No-no,” he quickly apologizes, “sorry I meant no offense. I knew there were models with a lot of tattoos. My sister told me that the industry was starting to expand by signing more people with them.” His words have Y/n intrigued. Obviously his sister was someone in the business, she wondered if she knew her.

“Is your sister one?”

“No, she’s an agent,” Y/n stops what she’s doing, towel long forgotten.

“For a modeling agency?”

“Yeah.”

“Which one?” Just as the question left her lips, Bonnie’s voice interrupted the two, “Bob, there you are! Oh good—,” she grins wide when she sees who he’s talking to, “You guys met!”

Snapping their heads toward each other, the two have the same expressions of, “wait what?”

Bonnie claps her hands, coming beside Bob at the bar and motioning between the two, “Y/n, this is my brother, Robert—the one I was telling you about last week,” mouth slightly agape, remembering the conversations the two had about Bonnie’s brother—in which the agent suggested setting up a date between the two—Y/n watches Bob react the same when Bonnie then says, “Bob, this is Y/n L/n. One of my clients at IMG—I know I’ve mentioned her before to you.”

Not knowing what to do at first, Y/n extends her hand to formally introduce herself, “So you must be the famous, Bob,” butterflies swarm her stomach again by the warmth of Bob’s hand when he goes to shake it. “I’m Y/n. So nice to finally meet you—Bonnie’s told me a lot about you.”

“W-wow,” Bob stutters, mentally hating himself when he does. “It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight, but now I see why Bonnie was so adamant I come.” A pointed look is thrown at Bonnie, who shrugs with a smile like she did no wrong.

“Well seeing as you two found each other without me, I’ll leave you both to it. Bob, let me know if you plan on riding with me back to the house or if you catch a ride. And Y/n I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” Winking, Bonnie takes the Cosmopolitan Y/n made for her and scurries off, leaving the two alone.

“I should’ve known,” Y/n laughs lightly, topping off Bob’s water. “Your sister has brought you up the past couple times she and I have gotten together,” lips curl into a smirk, “she wasn’t lying when she said you were a cutie.”

Bob turns red, smiling shyly, “when she told me about the inked beauty she worked with, she left out the fact you’re a walking piece of art.” His boldness impressed her, Y/n leaning closer to him against the bar top, resting her elbow on to so she could lean her head on her hand.

“How long are you gonna be in New York?”

“Till Wednesday,” part of her was disappointed that it was only four days away considering it was currently Saturday. But it was enough time for something to blossom.

“Tell me about yourself, Bob. The night’s early and I could listen to you talk for hours. Let’s see if Bonnie was psychic when she said we’d be quite the puzzle when put together.”

Ever heard of the type of couples where the girl radiates black cat energy and the guy is a literal golden retriever?

That was Y/n and Bob to a tee.

Out in public they stood out—even in a city like New York. Then when Y/n went to San Diego to meet his friends for the first time after four months together—which also resulted in her being stuck in California due to lockdown from the covid pandemic—it was like everyone couldn’t believe someone like Bob was with someone like Y/n.

He was a quiet, reserved naval officer and she was a sharp-tongued, world renowned tattoo model. They were the definition of the couple in high school you’d never expect would hit it off.

When Bob introduced Y/n to the squad, they instantly knew who she was, but had different ways of discovering her. Nat saw her walk in the VS Fashion show, Mickey and Reuben recognized her from The Weekend’s cover art, Javy remembered her from an episode of Ink Master she appeared on, Jake saw her on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and Bradley actually got a tattoo from Y/n when he was in NYC.

The entire period Y/n was in San Diego she grew close to the squad, even Maverick who had a lot of questions about her work and tattoos. “You think I’d look good with them at my age?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the question, ensuring the Captain with a pat on the back.

“Some of the sexiest men I’ve met have been your age with ink more in than me,” she giggles when he goes red. “I worked at a biker bar in New York City. Believe me, Pete. Anyone can look good with some ink.”

Needless to say when it came time for Mav to get a tattoo, Y/n was the one doing it.

A lot of the squad ended up getting work done by her. Jake, Mickey and Rooster had a few already so they were familiar with the process. Nat only had one from a drunk night in college, which Y/n redid on her behalf since it had faded. Payback was a man who liked bold, meaningful tattoos so sometimes Y/n had her work cut out for her but she always came through.

“Yo is this gonna hurt bad,” Javy was practically sweating as Y/n removed the stencil from his shoulder. The design was a geometric sun about the size of an airpod case.

“It’ll sting, but this area generally isn’t too painful. If this was your bicep then it’d be a different story.”

Javy didn’t look convinced, turning to look at the guys while the stencil dried, “How was it for you guys?”

“Didn’t hurt at all for me,” Rooster shrugged, “my bicep was worse—like she said.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Payback waved a hand. “You see how tiny it is? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Going over the details once more to confirm the colors and shading, Y/n moved her chair closer after turning on the tv to an episode of Chopped. “You ready, Jav?”

“Ready,” he didn’t really sound like it but it was too late to back out. The buzz of the needle filled his ears and soon the stinging sensation they all said had him clutching his first.

“Try to relax, man” Bob sat on the chair next to Y/n, “being tense won’t help.”

After over a year of dating Bob had his fair share of tattoos. His were mostly small and easily hidden by his uniform. When they first got together, Bob loved learning about her tattoos. When she got them, why she did. If there were any meaning behind certain ones and if she planned to get more.

She was like a walking art gallery. So many colors and styles. Large and small. Y/n told him stories about almost every one—even if they were embarrassing like the inner lip tattoo.

“Biggest mistake,” she wiped a tear after she was done, the two laughing so hard. “Not only did it hurt but it faded not even a year after I got it. Now it looks so bad—I should get it redone but what’s the point when it will just end up looking the same.”

Bob hated when people would give her looks of disproval when they’d go out, usually from those who were unfamiliar with Y/n’s work. One time he nearly got into a bar fight with a older gentleman who thought it was okay to call Y/n a Jezebel. Rooster and Mickey had to hold him back, but Y/n simply looked at the guy and said, “Baby, I’m a fucking millionaire because of these bad boys. While you’re about to kick it the dust I’m gonna be on the cover of Vogue magazine next month. So eat shit and die already.” The man was left speechless, making her and the squad smirk in victory. The equally tatted bartender who knew of Y/n whistling and even given her a free round.

“That was so fucking hot,” Bob pulled her into a searing kiss when they left the bar moments later, Y/n smirking against his lips, “You think that was hot? I’m a mess under these pants from seeing you so worked up, baby. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Whenever he and Y/n would cuddle she’d trace the raised ink with a finger, Bob doing the same to hers and committing them to memory. He loved to kiss the ones on her neck and collarbones, but his favorite were the tiny hearts on the palms of her hands.

“What do these mean,” he asked one day during the early days of their relationship. They were laying out on the hammock, taking her hands to admire the collection of small tattoos along her fingers and wrists. He hadn't even realized she had any on the palms until he flipped them over. There his thumbs traced over the red outline of each heart.

“If you ask any person I’ve ever loved or cared for they’d tell you I carry my heart in the palm of my hand,” she flips her hands so they are holding Bob’s, the tattoos against his skin. “So when I hold people’s hands, they know a piece of my heart lies with them.” Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, Y/n shifts so her lips are against his jaw. “And I’m kinda hoping you’re the only one who gets to hold them from here on out.”

Anytime after that Bob would press a kiss to the hearts whenever he held her hands. Then when asked about what tattoo of Y/n’s was his favorite his answer was always, “the hearts.”

His family adored her. At first they were put off by her striking image but learned quickly Y/n was perfect for Bob. The children of his siblings loved taking washable markers to color in the tattoos Y/n had that were black and white. “Can I draw you a tattoo someday?” Little Emma asked shortly after the couple celebrated one year. She was a little artist who loved asking questions about the pretty pictures on Y/n.

“Of course, my love,” she promised. “Draw me whatever you desire and I shall get it done.”

The first fashion show Y/n booked after the pandemic Bob had front row seats. With his phone out he was the ultimate cheerleader, though he refrained from whistling or making noise so as to not embarrass the model, but would be in absolute awe when she strutted past him. It was the Tom Ford show, Y/n had walked out in a long black trench coat, coming to the end of the runway first before removing the item to reveal a silk dress underneath. It was spaghetti strapped with an open back, thigh slit to compliment her legs and the cameras loved it. She walked a few steps back up and turned to strike one last pose before making her exit.

Bob was mesmerized. It was the first time he’d seen her walk the runway and my God if he wasn’t already a simp he sure was then. A photographer captured his reaction to her discarding the coat and it went viral on Twitter.

@ inmyreputationera: if my man doesn’t look at me like @inkedbyY/n bf at NYFW then I don’t want it.

@ Inked✔️: We’re all Bob Floyd when @inkedbyY/n steps onto the runway.

When it came time to pick out her wedding dress Y/n was unsure of the route to go. It’d been five years the two were coming up on, one year of being engaged with the wedding to take place in North Island. A beach wedding in the late fall, Y/n wanted to look elegant and classy.

“Whatever you choose you’ll gonna look amazing, darling,” Bob kissed her head after she sighed when shuffling through bridal magazine pictures of dresses she’d cut out. “You know I love your tattoos—they are a part of you and I don’t want you feeling like you have to cover up for the sake of pictures. Baby, you’re one of the top models in the world. Like you told me when we first met, those babies are what got you discovered. Show them off.” Rubbing her shoulder exposed from her tank top, his lips pressed to the ink covering the skin. “But if you like this,” he pointed to the dress she kept going back to in her pile, it was elegant and pretty with neckline that fell just below her collarbones. “Then you should get it because you love it.”

The ceremony dress ended up being the one with a high neckline. It had open back with Y/n deciding on a her veil cascading down to the floor to become a small train rather than having the dress itself have it. Lace covered her arms, the ink peeking out from beneath to make the material stand out more due to the contrast.

She was stunning. An actual goddess that had Bob’s jaw drop the second his eyes landed on her. For the reception Y/n changed into a white two piece set that showed off her legs.

And you best believe she hired local tattoo artists to do a ‘spur of the moment’ tattoo booth at the party.

It didn’t take long for Inked Magazine to want to do a bridal shoot with Y/n. And if you look at it one way, it was a full circle moment. The issue marked ten years since they discovered Y/n and blessed her with the career of a lifetime that led her to meeting the love of her life.

All because she had a knack for getting ink.

……………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa

[vivwritesfics]

COMING AT YOU WITH A SOFT BOY RHETT!

He’s working on his ranch when a horse comes onto his land and it’s fully tacked but there is no signs of the rider. It’s spooked but he manages to calm it down and catch it. He’s tacks up his own horse and goes on the search for the missing rider! - nurse-sainz 🥰🥰🥰

I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS SOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING MUCH

Rhett x english rider omg

Rhett Abbott sleeping in his truck was nothing new. He was usually sleeping off a hangover, and that morning was no different. He knew he had chores to do, which might have been why he slept in his truck. Waking up when the run rose (well, that was the goal, but it wasn't always the result).

Today, as with most days, Rhett didn't wake up because of the sun. You'd think he'd be used to the sound of horses, after living on a ranch for his entire life.

But this, this was different. The horses that his father had trained, they didn't stampede towards the house like that. They had been taught better than to come to the house.

Rhette sat up, grabbed the Stetson hat covering his face, and looked out of the truck windows. "Shit," he muttered as he pulled on his shirt, covering up his bull rider tattoo. He placed his Stetson on his head and climbed out of the truck.

There he was, a pretty white horse with a dappling of grey spots on his ass. He was fully tacked up, wearing a saddle, a bridle, and some fancy ass boots around his legs. The mane was plaited, along with the tail.

"Woah there," he said as he approached the horse. Since cantering towards the Abbott house he had stopped to much on the grass. He raised his head towards Rhett, who held his hands up as he approached.

His eye ears went back and he let out a snort. Rhett slowed his steps. He reached his large hand towards the reins. But he couldn't get close enough, not without the horse rearing up. "Little shit," Rhett found himself muttering.

As the horse cantered to the back of the house, Rhett moved his truck, blocking the horse in. He climbed out of his truck and made his way around to the horse that definitely didn't belong here.

As he walked around to the back of the house, the kitchen window opened. "Who's horse is that?" His mother asked.

Rhett shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't seen it before, didn't know there was anything other than cowboys riding around Wabang. He certainly hadn't seen this fancy looking thing in the show jumping saddle.

When Rhett asked his mother for a carrot, she happily handed his over. As soon as Rhett had the carrot, it was easy enough to grab the horse. He was far more interested in the carrot than running away from Rhett. "Who are you?" Rhett asked as he held the reins and stroked down his face.

For a total of five minutes he put the grey horse in the barn while he grabbed his own. As soon as he was mounted, he grabbed the grey ponies reins and rode off.

Rhett was a cowboy. Rhett liked going fast. Rhett's horse was used to galloping across the field until they were out onto the rode. The grey horse was making it near impossible. He stayed at a stubborn walk when Rhett trotted off, stretching his neck out until Rhett could get no further away.

So, Rhett was stuck at a slow walk as he made his way around, looking for anybody that was missing a horse. Most of the usual cowboys, most of the usual other ranch owners, laughed when they saw the fancy pony following him.

Rhett let out a sigh as he began riding along the road towards the Abbott Ranch.

"Sparrow!"

Suddenly, the grey horse was pulling against him. Rhett didn't let go, though. He turned himself around to see a girl. She had a black hat on her head, but not like his Stetson. That one was for safety. Long, shiny black boots were on her feet and she wore these tight, black Jodhpurs.

Definitely not a cowgirl.

She ran over and grabbed a hold of the reins. "Oh, you are in so much trouble," she said and kissed the horses face. "Sparrow, I swear. You gave me a heart attack!" She pulled the hat from her head and tucked it beneath her arm as she kissed the pony a couple more times.

And then she turned to Rhett. He didn't recognise her, not at all. But her face twisted in confusion. "Rhett?" She asked. "Rhett Abbott?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, adjusting his Stetson on his head. "And you are?"

She held out her hand towards him and gave her his name. Rhett shook it. "I've seen you at the rodeo a few times," she said. "I... thank you for finding Sparrow. I thought he was ready to go out alone, but I think somebody needs a little more training," she said and released his hand.

Rhett swallowed. "I think he found me," he answered.

Immediately, her face dropped. "He... he broke onto your ranch?" She asked and Rhett couldn't help but grin as he nodded. "Shit, I'm so sorry!" She cried. "Let me know how I can make it up to you."

Rhett couldn't deny that she was cute. Not his usual type, not the usual cowgirls he had wearing his Stetson and riding his cock. Well, Rhett wanted to know more. "You can let me take you out f' a drink," he said, leaning forward.

He watched as she placed her foot in the metal stirrup (incredibly different from the one his foot was placed into), and climbed up into the saddle. Immediately, Sparrow was moving. He walked in an agitated circle as she tried to stay looking at Rhett. "So, if I want to find you, Sparrow should know where to go?"

"An' you can give me your number. Y'know, in case he forgets."

[keep-on-burnin]

this short little piece was requested by my lovely friends, you know who you are😇 enjoy some drunk and lovey bob<3 also unedited cause I’m lazy ;)

the only sounds in the house were the washing machine rumbling quietly in the background and an old record you’d thrown on. You sat lounging on the couch of your living room, book in hand and half empty wine glass on the table. A stupid rom-com that you weren’t too interested in played on mute across your TV screen. The sun had already set and the sky was now filled with stars. A cool breeze from the ocean blew into your little home through a slightly cracked open window, gifting a pleasant scent of salt water.

You didn’t get much alone time nowadays. All the hustle and bustle that comes along with being a US Naval Aviator rarely let up, and when it did, you’d usually be enjoying a few pints and a round of pool at the Hard Deck with your fellow officers. Tonight though, you’d decided to let Bob go off on his own in favour of finishing a couple loads of laundry and a bottle of wine.

It was nice every once in a while to have time alone with yourself to catch up on all the missed self-care. Bob was always good at reminding you to take care of yourself, though he was kind of a hypocrite.

Tonight was yours to unwind and his to let loose. He was always the one to stay sober at the Hard Deck, politely declining every beer in favour of a glass of water to ensure that both of you and your friends had a way of getting home safe. He was ever the gentleman. Before he left though, you had told him to go have fun and if he needed you would pick him up when he was ready. So, it was quite the surprise to hear the crunching of gravel in your driveway and the sight of old yellow headlights beaming through your open window.

You heard faint slurred sentences of, “I can walk by myself,” obviously Bob, and “You’re plastered, Robert” which could be non other than Rooster.

You could only assume that Bradley was the designated driver tonight, poor soul. You’d had your fair share of DD nights and taking care of drunk aviators was not easy, especially a light-weight like sweet Bobby.

The sound of your front door flying open and a muttered “shit” could be heard from the entry way. You thought about getting up to help your boyfriend, but ultimately decided to sit back and enjoy the show. In your defense, you never got to see Bob drunk, like, ever. Once he passed through the threshold into your softly lit living room you realized just how drunk he really was. His normally gelled back and neat hair was askew, his cobalt eyes drooping, and his signature tipsy smirk was sitting on his lips.

He leans, a little ungracefully, against the doorway.

“Honey, I’m home!” He chirps, that stupid smirk growing wider.

Shaking your head and huffing out a laugh, you slide your bookmark into place and set your paperback next to your now empty wine glass.

“How was your night?” You ask, already full well knowing it must’ve been great.

Bob doesn’t move from his spot against the door frame, he just looks at you and smiles. That fucking smile that makes you weak in the knees. Thank god you’re sitting on the couch or you probably would’ve fallen face first into the carpet, but despite that, you rise to your feet and make your way over to him. Once you’re standing close enough, Bob practically throws all of his body weight on you, making you stumble back a couple steps. You laugh heartily as you let him nuzzle your neck and leave kisses along your skin.

“Night was good. I missed you though.” He confesses, breathing in the subtle scent of your perfume and sighing out once you begin to comb your fingers through his soft hair.

Moments like these were your favourite. Just you and Bob in your own little world, loving each other, holding each other. It was true bliss.

After a few minutes, Bob pulls his face away from your neck and smiles a lopsided, lovesick grin at you. Oh yeah, he’s hammered.

“How much did you drink?” You ask with a giggle, moving your hand down from his hair to the side of his face.

“Too much tequila.” He all but whispers, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear that this moment between you two would end. His soft eyes bore into yours, and now your sporting the same lovesick smile he is. Bob begins to sway back and forth slowly to the new song on the record. Of course it’s a classic love song from the 50’s that he knows by heart, so he sings it to you. It’s romantic, slurred words and all.

It truly feels like a movie. You and Bob dancing under the soft yellow light of the living room, one of you tipsy from wine, the other one plastered from tequila and cheap beer and both smiling like idiots in love.

The silence was nice and comfortable, until Bob said something you’d never thought would come out of his mouth, especially in this state.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You ask back in disbelief, chuckling at the very sudden question.

Bob would normally recoil while his pretty face flushed with a dark pink, but drunk Bob is a different breed. He just smiles wider, if that’s even possible, before continuing,

“I love you so much honey, and I wanna love you everyday for the rest of my life.”

The confession surprises you to say the least, but you know that drunk words are sober thoughts, you also know that sober Bob has probably been stressing about that question since the day he met you. So of course, with a teary eyed smile you answer his question by saying,

“Ask me again when you’re sober” and you sealed the deal with a kiss.

[strawhbrrries]

Babys Breath, v

pairing: bob floyd x seresin!florist!reader

summary: Bob stumbles into the nearest florist to the funeral he’s attending and, unknowingly, charms Jake Seresin’s sweet younger sister with all the anxious charm he possesses.

warnings: everyone calls reader “sunshine”, fluff!!!, protective older brother jake??, horrible descriptions of the navy, warnings will differ depending on chapter, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 

word count: 1441 words

authors note: because i love you guys, you get it a day early!! a bit juicier this time!! how do we think the rest of jake's reaction is gonna go? bob + sunshine forever and ever!! as always, please enjoy!! mwah!!

tag list: @myownworstenemyyy @kloofspeaks @bcon24 @chaosofmanyfandoms @strangerparks @kmc1989

find the masterlist here!

read the previous part here! read the next part here!

“You don’t believe me? And why the fuck not?” You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, trying to close up the shop and interrogate your brother at the same time.

“You’ve given me no reason to trust you, Sunny. I told you not to text him.” Jake responded, voice laced with annoyance. You were sure if you could see him his eyes were halfway in the back of his skull and a hand was on his hip in that sassy pose he did.

“Oh my god, Jake. Am I not a fucking adult? Even if I did text him, which I fucking didn’t, why does it matter? He’s not Javy or Rooster who just want to fuck me and add another notch to their belt.” You snapped, scrunching your face in annoyance. The over-protectiveness he was exhibiting was eating at you, your nerves were hanging on by a thread.

“It doesn’t matter, I told you not to do something. It shouldn’t take all of your self control not to go against me. I’ll see you at home. Goodbye.”

With that he hung up, the tears of frustration welling in your eyes at his words. The universe just wanted you to fail, how could you not respond to the text? Just last week the sweetest man found his way into your shop and now you’re supposed to simply act like he didn’t exist?

hey bobby, I know this is a long shot but i need some saving

can we go get something to eat?

You locked the door to the shop and looked at your phone one more time before frowning and putting it away. The last place you wanted to be was your house, the argument with Jake would just escalate and you weren’t ready for that. Not right now at least. You’d find solace in the one place you shouldn’t. With Bob. You sat on the steps in front of the building, waiting for a response before deciding if you should just go home and face the Seresin wrath.

Every time your phone went off you hoped it was Bob and it never was. You figured he was busy, probably had other plans and didn’t want to hang out with you. 

“Is anyone sitting next to you?” The voice caused you to look up and locate where it was coming from, a smile spreading across your face when you saw who it was.

“Hi Bobby.” You pat the spot next to you, ushering him to sit on the steps next to you. 

“I was around the corner, figured you’d rather see me in person than a text.” He spoke softly, pushing his glasses up a bit and looking at you as he sat down.

“I appreciate it, I was waiting for a text. Can’t lie, I was a bit disappointed to not get one.” You chuckled, laying your head on his shoulder and breathing in. He smelled so good, especially after having worked all day.

“I hope you’re not still disappointed.” He teased, poking your side and laying his head on top of yours. He wasn’t going to pry and see what was bothering you but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t relieved that you came to him first about it. “I’m sorry you had a shit day, where do you wanna eat?”

“I don’t care, just not the hard deck.” You responded, closing your eyes and enjoying the softness of the moment.

“I know a spot, c’mon.” He stood up and offered you his hand, intertwining your fingers and leading you to his car.

He drove to a small diner on the outskirts of the town, intentionally so you didn’t have a chance to run into your brother. He assumed the bad day was because of your brother, and that was why you asked not to go to the nearest bar with some damn good food. The place was small and obviously family run, Bob had been here a few times before and would highly recommend it to anyone.

The two of you got a small booth in the back corner, away from the commotion of the rest of the diner. It felt more personal this way. A sweet older woman was your server, she acted like she’d known the two of you your whole lives. Once your food came she left the two of you alone, letting you talk and joke around.

“Phoenix paid me a visit earlier.” You stated, putting a fry in your mouth while he connected the dots.

“Oh my god, that’s where she went earlier. Sorry for that, I’m going to assume she came on pretty strong.” He apologized and it wasn’t even his fault, taking a bite of the food in front of him.

“Yeah, she kinda scared me a bit at first. She gave me her number though, soon I’ll have all of dagger squad.” You joked, covering your mouth as you giggled

“You know the dagger squad?” He tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out where you would know that from unless your brother actually was in it or Phoenix told you.

“Uh, yeah. So, if I tell you this. I need you to swear you won’t speak to him about us, or anything hinting towards me.” You put your pinky finger out, the ultimate swear.

“Okay?” He hesitantly shook pinkies with you, becoming even more confused than before.

“Jake, or Hangman as you would know him, is my brother.” You let go of his pinky and took a sip of your drink while he processed the information, he rubbed his forehead as he thought about it.

“I guess I’m just confused why you kept it from me? I won’t say anything to him, I promise, I’m just confused?” 

“I get a lot of navy men at the shop and I always ask Jake about them, just curiosity I guess. You were the one man he basically swore me off of, told me I couldn’t text you back and we got into a huge argument about it.” You explained, picking at the skin around your nails anxiously. This could go horribly and blow up in your face or he could be completely understanding about it.

“Sounds exactly like him, I should’ve known the second you said he was an asshole. Hangman is the only asshole I really work with, makes everything so much harder. So he doesn’t know?” Bob asked, fiddling with the food on his plate.

“I’m not even sure anymore, he texted me earlier that you had a girlfriend. Which, I didn’t know we had taken that step.” You teased, winking playfully. “But then he said he didn’t believe me when I said I hadn’t texted you back. Which, yet again blew up into a huge argument-” 

“Which is why you called me.” He finished your sentence, shaking his head in understanding. “Phoenix started it!”

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this, Bobby.” You chewed at your bottom lip, frustrated that you brought him into the middle of this because you liked him too much.

He assured you it wasn’t just your fault, it was equally his fault too and he made sure you knew that. For the rest of the meal you explained how the initial argument with Jake went down and how you ultimately decided to say fuck it and do it anyway. Bob was appreciative of that fact and understood why you kept it all a secret. He even promised to continue keeping it a secret from your brother for as long as you wanted, even pinky swearing on it.

“We should probably get going.” You groaned, stacking the dishes from your food and paying the bill as a thanks for him saving you. Although, you both argued over it for a good few minutes.

The ride back to your car was filled with lots of laughs, you told him a ton of stories about your childhood with Jake. How you were constantly telling others he was your real brother and how you got your nickname. He called it an honorary callsign, you giggled and said you’d never call it that. He praised you for being able to live with Jake and dealing with him all the time. You walked hand in hand with him to your car, stopping in your tracks when you see the person leaning against it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Jake exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose and doing a double take at the two of you holding hands. “Are you sure you didn’t text him back, Sunshine?”

[nobody7102]

The Double Birthday

A/N: This is very self indulgent because not only is it Lewis’s birthday it’s also mine! So happy birthday to me and Lew (and my twin sister) and to anyone else who shares the glorious January 29th birthday!!!

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Oral (F receiving), hand-job, unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it), breeding kink (if you squint)

Main Master-List

———

As the sun peeked through the windows of the house, other than the pitter patter of paws on the hardwood before they scratched at the closed door of the bedroom, it was quiet.

Shifting in the sheets, Y/N’s brows furrowed before a gasp let her mouth and her eyes fluttered open as her body tried to curl into itself. Yet Bob’s hands held firm against her hips as he moved her legs to frame his head, his nose bumping against her clit as his tongue delved into her sweet cunt. Her legs tensed as moans fell from her mouth “No fair!” she whined as her hand moved down to tangle itself into Bob’s hair.

Feeling her nail against his scalp a groan left his lips “Oh Sweetheart”, sending a vibration though Y/N’s core causing her toes to curl. Taking one long lick from the bottom of her cunt up to her clit, Bob relished in hearing the sweet moans that emitted from Y/N before he lifted his head up and rested his chin against her hip bone. “It’s your birthday Sweets… I just wanted to give you a good…. Morning” as he spoke the last few words one of his hands slipped from her hip down to her core, slipping his middle and ring finger into her, the coolness of his ring sending goosebumps across Y/N’s legs as he slowly started pumping them in and out of her. “Can’t I give you a good morning?” he smirked as he felt Y/N’s heel dig into his back as she threw her head back into the pillows.

“But it’s your birthday too” She panted “Wanna give you a good morni- Oh Fuuck Bobby!” she gasped breathlessly as he dipped his head back down, to nip at her clit as his fingers picked up their pace. “Ahh! Yes!” Her hand tightened its grip on his hair as Bob interlaced his free hand with her’s “Please don’t stop!” she pleated “Please Bobby! Feel’s so good!” Starting to rock her hips against his face, Y/N noticed how the whole bed started to rock before she glanced down seeing how Bob had buried himself in her cunt as he rutted his hips into the mattress.

Biting her lip, Y/N took in the sight before grabbing onto Bobby’s hair and raising his head, a sigh left her lips before her hands pulled on his shoulder to bring him up to her. Making his way up the bed, his nose brushed against her as her hands pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down. “Happy Birthday Bobby” she hummed, nipping at his bottom lip while her hand slowly stroked Bob’s cock.

Smirking as a gasp left his lips, he pressed a firm kiss to her lips mumbling “Happy Birthday Sweets” before he replaced her hand with his, guiding his cock into her dripping cunt. Seating himself into her, Bob placed one of her legs over his shoulder as he hitched the other over his hip, holding it in place before slowly rutting his hips into her’s.

“Bobby!” she gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

After grinding into her hips, Bobby slowly unsheathed himself before slowly pushing back into her, keeping his pace slowly and his strokes long. Burying his head into her neck, he kissed his way just below her ear “You know what I want for my birthday Sweets?” he panted before licking the shell of her ear “I want you to come all over my cock… I… want… this pretty… Little… Cunt… to absolutely… soak me” he emphasized every word with a thrust before picking up his pace “Can you do that for me?”

Feeling her start to squeeze around him Y/N nodded her head frantically “Yes! Yes Please” she whined before she turned her head into Bob’s ear “You know what… what I want for my- Shit! My birthday” she forced the words from her mouth, knowing she had to say it before she was too blissed out to say anything “I want your cum Bobby, I wan- OH FuCK YES!” She cried as Bob moved her other leg over her shoulder before she felt his fingers circle over her clit as he planted his feet into the mattress, folding her in half as he pounded into her.

The bed rocked back and forth, headboard slamming into the wall with the momentum, Bob’s forehead pressed into the crook of Y/N’s neck “Yeah you wanna be full of me Sweets?” he mumbled

“Fuuck yes! Please” she pleaded, feeling her legs start to shake. Taking her hands in his, Bob laced their fingers together as Y/N knuckles turned white as her back arched from the bed “OH MY GO-“ as she was pushed over the edge her moans were cut off from Bob pressing his lips to hers to silence his own cries as his hips shuttered before he slammed his hips into Y/N one last time. His hips and legs tensed as they came down from their highs.

Lips still seared together before Y/N freed one of her hands from Bob’s grasp to trail it over his shoulder and down his back. “fuck Sweets” he mutter as a shiver made its way down his back before he rested his forehead against hers. “… Have a good start to the Double Birthday?” he hummed, moving to kiss the top of her nose.

“But best start to the Double Birthday, Bobby” she smiled back.

——

Ppl who might be interested: @sebsxphia @beachbabey @thesluttyarchivist @hangmanapologist @hangmanbrainrot @rhettabbotts @auroralightsthesky @fanboygarcia @mothdruid @writercole @sweetlittlegingy @weakling-grace @glodessa @sunlightmurdock @tigerlillyyy @withahappyrefrain

[ghxst-heart]

ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ ─ ʀʜᴇᴛᴛ ᴀʙʙᴏᴛᴛ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rhett wasn’t a religious man; he hadn’t been for a long time.  Still, he went to church with his family every Sunday and kept his eyes trained on the pulpit.  His mother thought that he was finally taking in what Pastor Simon said to heart, but only one thing could have the youngest Abbott so entranced; the preacher’s daughter that dutifully sat in the front row, every Sunday. ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 18+, MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol and hangovers, swearing, use of gendered pet names (pretty girl, angel, darling), descriptions of sexual acts in a church, brief description of male masturbation, semi-public sex, slight size kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected penetrative sex (p in v; wrap it before you tap it), creampie, if I missed anything, please let me know, this is my first time posting smut haha ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪɴғᴏ: Pronouns used are She/Her/Hers, AFAB!Reader, beginnings of a FWB relationship between Rhett and Reader. ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: Fem!Reader, Romantic!Reader X Rhett Abbott ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅ: MINORS DNI!! My blog is strictly 18+!! Any minors or ageless/blank blogs interacting with my fics or my blog will be blocked (and, yes, I do check). I can't stop you from reading my fics, but I can stop you from accessing my fics if my boundaries aren't respected. Your media consumption is your own responsibility, just as it is mine regarding what I post. Please tread thoughtfully and carefully, and keep yourselves happy, healthy, and safe.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The air in the sanctuary was thick as Pastor Simon droned through his sermon, pacing the length of the pulpit with his bible clutched tightly in his old hands.  His voice boomed through the small space, echoing off the wood-paneled walls and resounding in Rhett’s ears as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head.  His Stetson hung low over his forehead, trying to shield his sensitive blue eyes from the blinding morning light seeping through the windows.  His hangovers were never this intense; either he had drunk too much the previous night, or Pastor Simon’s voice was so boring that it was causing him physical pain.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett felt a harsh pinch on his thigh, and he flinched, ready to snap at whoever bothered him, but he quickly realized that it was his mother silently reminding him to stay awake.  His mouth fell into a sarcastic sneer before he recovered and offered his mother a firm nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile to appease her.  Cecilia frowned, and he fought against a whiney comment, instead opting for a quiet grumble as he sat up straight in his chair.  He gave her a pointed look and removed his Stetson from his head, and she hummed in approval, pleased that he had taken her silent direction.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett hadn’t thought that his silent squabble had earned anyone’s attention, but he knew he had been caught when his eyes met the pastor’s daughter’s gaze across the room.  (Y/N) had turned her head over her shoulder, a small, amused smile on her face as she watched Cecilia scold Rhett as if he were five years old again.  Rhett readjusted in his seat, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he felt the tips of his ears begin to burn with embarrassment under her stare.  (Y/N)’s head tilted slightly as if she were asking him a question, but before he could think of an answer to a question he didn’t know, she returned her attention to the pulpit, nodding along with her father’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man kept his eyes on (Y/N) as she gathered her hair in her hands and let the strands settle over one shoulder, exposing her neck to his eyes.  Her fingertips grazed her skin, nails lightly scratching the base of her throat before she dropped her hand to her lap again.  Her chin tilted up, extending her neck and stretching her muscles before she relaxed, dropping her chin so she could read the bible resting over her knees.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The way that Rhett and (Y/N) were seated gave them direct views of one another, and Rhett could see most of her body.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles, relaxed against the seat of her chair.  Her skirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.  She mindlessly toyed with the hem, pulling it higher and higher up her leg.  Rhett thickly swallowed, letting his mind swim with sinful thoughts of marking up her legs, littering them with pretty purple bruises and love bites.  He thought of kneading the soft flesh with his calloused hands, relishing in the goosebumps he would leave behind, and how the plush fat would feel wrapped around his head, muffling his hearing so he’d only just barely hear the beautiful noises he would draw out of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was thrown from his thoughts when (Y/N) suddenly readjusted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other and swiveling her body, so she was sitting sideways on the chair.  He panicked, body flushing with embarrassment as his eyes flashed up to her face, finding that she was already staring at him.  He had been caught staring at her legs, his mind running rampant with fantasies.  (Y/N) grinned, her teeth chewing on her lip as she let her eyes wander over Rhett’s body before she looked at the pulpit once more, pretending as if she hadn’t exposed Rhett’s shamelessness in checking her out.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) had always been an interesting woman.  She was the epitome of a pastor’s daughter.  She attended church every Sunday, helped out in the daycare on weekdays, was active in the Women’s Group, and helped plan fundraising events for families in the congregation that needed extra funds.  She never did anything wrong, anything sinful, and always said the nicest things with a bright smile on her face.  She wore conservative clothes, nothing too tight or revealing, and her face was always cleared of heavy makeup, giving her such an innocent look with lightly coated lashes, soft rosy cheeks, and glossy lips.  But Rhett had always thought there was something more just underneath the surface.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They had grown up together, going through elementary to high school in the same classes.  While Rhett grew rebellious and ambitious to achieve fame as a bull rider, (Y/N) remained the sweet, innocent girl that was content to live her life in Wabang as the pastor’s daughter.  By graduation, they were nothing more than strangers to one another, their reputations landing them on different ends of Wabang High’s social stratosphere.  But that didn’t stop Rhett from watching her as she led the congregation in song or served food at the church’s monthly luncheon, blushing when she’d catch his eye or muttering an excuse to leave before his stomach would lurch with a delicious, yet sometimes overwhelming, fluttery feeling.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was too young and stupid to realize what his longing looks and flustered words around her meant.  He was too naive to understand that his nerves and the funny feeling in his stomach meant more than just a childhood crush.  For years, the youngest Abbott oftentimes tried to convince himself that he was just imagining the lingering stares or the suggestive brushing of her fingertips against him when she passed him.  He tried to brush it off as his darkest fantasies trying to turn polite glances and innocent touches into something more, his mind playing cruel tricks on him in place of his lonesome nights.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎But, that was before they grew up.  Now, after being in the world and experiencing real attraction, real lust, he was convinced that it was something more.  He was convinced that (Y/N) knew what she was doing and that she was purposeful in how she looked at him or placed her hand over his when handing him his food at the luncheons.  He was certain now that he wasn’t imagining things when she smirked and turned away, continuing to innocently play with her skirt and show Rhett more and more of her skin after she’d caught him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The idea went straight to his dick, and he was suddenly readjusting in his seat, sitting up straight and tightening his arms across his chest as he willed his mind to think of anything else.  He’d never hear the end of it if his brother had caught him with a hard-on during the middle of Pastor Simon’s retelling of the story of Esther.  Even with his hopes of being inconspicuous, Perry glanced over and silently chuckled, shaking his head as he grinned before returning his eyes to the front of the sanctuary.  Rhett felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he quietly cleared his throat as he tried his hardest to focus on Pastor Simon’s sermon.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him, flickering toward him every few minutes to check if he was still watching her.  He was trying his hardest not to, but knowing that she wanted him to be looking at her made it difficult to think of anything else.  It was made even worse when she stood up, her hands smoothing down her sweater and skirt as she made her way to take her father’s place on the small stage, smiling warmly at the congregation in front of her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett watched as (Y/N) cleared her throat, positioning herself behind the altar and opening her bible as she prepared to read the excerpt from the book of Corinthians, transitioning the service from her father’s sermon to communion.  Before she began, (Y/N) let her eyes scan the small crowd, searching for her volunteer to help her with communion.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett thought back to high school, to when she’d silently cycle through the children and teens around her, but she’d always fall back on Rhett to help.  Back then, he was convinced that she was just trying to get him to participate, trying to lead him to the Lord by the small first step of offering communion.  A part of him hoped that she’d ask him to help just so he could feel the brush of her fingertips as she handed him the chalice filled with grape juice, or the press of her shoulder against his bicep as they stood side by side and let the congregation come to them to eat their bread and drink their “wine.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Like she had been all morning, (Y/N) surprised him by calling his niece to the pulpit. “Amy, honey, can you come up ‘ere and help me with communion?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s niece jumped up from her spot at the end of the row his family sat in, bouncing with giddiness as she walked up the aisle to assist (Y/N).  She smiled brightly as she took her spot beside (Y/N), her hands folded neatly behind her back as (Y/N) pointed out the verse she wanted Amy to read, as if she didn’t already know it by heart.  Even Rhett had it memorized, but that was because he used to be the Abbott standing behind the altar every week.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man tried to pay attention to his niece so he could tell her how well she did later on after the service.  He tried to watch his niece carefully break the bread, offering it to (Y/N) so she could take communion before repeating the young woman’s actions.  However, all he could think of was the way (Y/N)’s delicate hands would feel tracing indistinct patterns over his body, her glossed lips following closely behind her hands’ trails.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) turned to the congregation once more, motioning with her hands as she called them up to take communion.  The Abbott family sat patiently, waiting until the row ahead of them had moved into the aisle to stand.  Rhett slowly stood and placed his Stetsen on his chair, trying his hardest to hide his growing problem in his jeans without drawing attention to himself.  He was successful for the most part, but he could feel (Y/N)’s eyes on him as he moved to stand in the aisle.  Their eyes met, and he watched as her eyes subtly flickered toward his hips and her teeth caught her bottom lip, suppressing a grin as she blessed a congregation member while they dipped their bread in the grape juice.  Rhett felt his heart hammer in his chest, his body tingling with nerves as the knowledge that she knew the effect she had on him settled in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Before he knew it, Rhett was standing before (Y/N) in front of the altar.  His hands shook slightly as he tore a piece of bread from the plate Amy held before he turned to (Y/N).  He slowly met her eyes, his chest feeling tight as he raised his hand to dip his bread into the grape juice.  He had always thought that her eyes were pretty; they gleamed with purity and a hint of mischief that he only ever saw when he was in such close proximity to her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett was so focused on her eyes that he didn’t realize that he was practically soaking the piece of bread in the grape juice until it became heavy between his fingertips.  He fought against his first instinct to curse (Cecelia had always scolded him for cursing in the Lord’s Home) and quickly pulled it toward his lips, his free hand cupping under his chin to catch any drops, but that didn’t stop a few dribbles of juice from landing on his bottom lip.  Before he could react, (Y/N) had reached up and wiped away the juice with her thumb, and Rhett would have been embarrassed by the doting action if she hadn’t brought the digit to her mouth and licked the grape juice off her skin, her lips wrapping around her thumb and her cheeks hollowing just enough that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone else, but Rhett caught it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The young Abbott man’s mouth suddenly felt dryer than a desert, and his brain began to short-circuit.  (Y/N) silently giggled and blessed him, ultimately sending him on his way back to his seat with her teeth running over her bottom lip teasingly.  Rhett awkwardly cleared his throat and turned around, stiffly walking back down the aisle with his head bowed bashfully.  He kept his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look at anyone in fear that they would notice the growing bulge in his jeans.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett spent the rest of the service with his jaw locked and eyes fixed in a frustrated stare on (Y/N).  His mind was racing with images of her mouth around his fingers, her tongue trailing along his digits as she sucked on them.  It wasn’t helping his hard-on, not in the slightest, but he had a sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what she wanted.  The congregation finally began to sing the closing song, and Rhett was the first one out the sanctuary doors once Pastor Simon sent them off with a blessing, making a beeline to the restrooms.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The moment the bathroom door was shut, he was unbuckling his jeans and pulling out his dick with a groan, back collapsed against the wall, and his hand furiously working to relieve his pent-up frustration.  It wasn’t hard to get himself over the edge after nearly an hour of teasing, but a part of him still felt like an inexperienced teenager getting himself off for the first time.  He came with a muffled grunt, his free hand bunched into a tight fist between his teeth.  Rhett slumped against the wall, his head leaned back as his chest heaved, the poor Abbott man struggling to catch his breath.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit,” Rhett cursed, pushing off the wall and reaching out to grab paper towels to clean himself up.  After he tucked himself back into his jeans and washed his hands, he took a moment to clear his head, his hands braced on the sink basin as his head hung low.  He slowly looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, a flash of shame washing over him, but it was quickly replaced with panic when he heard (Y/N)'s voice.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, I think I saw him head to the restroom, Mrs. Abbott.  He looked a little pale, though.  I hope he’s not gettin’ sick.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her voice was soft and sweet, like the taste of Cecelia’s sweet iced tea on a hot summer day.  Rhett thickly swallowed, his eyes locked on the door as he tried to remember whether he locked it or not.  A quick glance at the handle told him that, no, he hadn’t; he had been too focused on (Y/N), her legs, her lips, her tongue.  Rhett quietly groaned, his head falling back on his shoulders as his hands ran down his face.  Thank God no one walked in before he was finished.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎He knew his mother wouldn’t divulge to the pastor’s daughter that he was probably hungover, and he had never been so thankful for his mother’s need to keep appearances around the congregation before.  He just hoped that that was all she assumed was wrong with him.  He was proven right when he heard his mother respond to the sweet girl that has been subtly teasing her son for the better part of an hour.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Thank you, dear.  Let ‘im know we’re gon’ be out in the parkin’ lot when he comes out, will ya?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a relieved breath as his head fell once more, before he shook his hair from his eyes and pushed himself up from the sink.  He looked over his reflection, letting out a long breath through his nose as he willed the flush of color to disappear from his cheeks and neck.  He took a few minutes to ensure that all the churchgoers had filed out of the church before forcing himself to exit the bathroom.  He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans before tucking them into his pockets, pushing his way out the front doors to join his family when he was met with the harsh late-morning sunlight and dry Wyoming heat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, it’s bright out here,” Rhett mumbled when he reached his family.  They were hanging around the bed of his and Royal’s trucks, his father entertaining Amy’s constant questions about Pastor Simon’s sermon while Perry and Rebecca were lost in each other, still just as in love with each other as the day they met.  Cecelia, however, stood with her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face as she watched her youngest make his way to them.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia was quiet as she scolded Rhett, making sure that the rest of their family was preoccupied before she began to lay into him. “Now, I’m happy that you’re comin’ t’church with us again, but you can’t bust outta there like a bull the moment the service is over, Rhett.  It’s rude; not only to Pastor Simon, but to God, too.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grumbled, his light eyes squinting and pulling his face into a slight scowl as he looked at his mother, “I know.  ‘M sorry, Ma.  Won’t happen again.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Damn right, it won’t.” Cecelia affirmed, firmly nodding her head as she turned her attention to the rest of the Abbott family. “Alright, everyone in the trucks.  I‘m sure we wasted ‘nough time gettin’ to the diner.  Only table open’ll be right near the kitchen.  Let’s go.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shotgun!” Amy quickly shouted, leaping down from the tailgate and running around to the front of Rhett’s truck.  She anxiously yanked on the handle as Rhett pulled his keys from his pocket.  She began to whine, her head lolling on her shoulders as she began to pester her uncle, “Uncle Rhett!  Open the door!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, shaking his head as he fumbled with the keys.  He reached up to adjust his hat, but his hand was met with his slightly greasy hair instead of his worn Stetson. “Dammit.  Amy, go ahead an’ hop in with grandma and grandpa, I left my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“But I wanna ride with you!” Amy sadly said, dragging out the last syllable in an attempt to get Rhett to forget his hat and drive her to the diner.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎��‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I know ya do, sweetcheeks.  But Uncle Rhett ain’t Uncle Rhett without his hat, is he?” Rhett hummed and stepped up to his niece, placing his large hands on her small face and pinching her cheeks in an attempt to get her to smile.  When he got a sheepish giggle from her, he grinned and stood up straight, softly pushing her in the direction of his mother. “Go on to the diner, I’ll catch up in a few.  Forgot my hat inside.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Cecelia narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t push the issue any further. “Alright.  Amy, hon, c’mon now.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to walk back to the church, suddenly realizing how empty the parking lot was.  After his father pulled out of the lot, only his truck and (Y/N)'s old Dodge were left, three spots separating them.  Even Pastor Simon and his wife had left.  A rush of anxiety ran down his spine, but there was a spot of confidence growing with the idea that he and (Y/N) would be alone in the church.  He couldn’t act on her taunting with the entire congregation surrounding them, but maybe now he could.  Even if he can’t do anything physically, the least they could do would be to talk about it, set some boundaries if they were to really begin what they both wanted.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The church door quietly slammed shut behind him, effectively closing him and (Y/N) off from the rest of the town.  Rhett couldn’t remember the last time they had truly been alone together.  Maybe that time in high school when she had to tutor him in English?  Thinking back on it, Rhett realized that she had been playing this game with him since way back then; her foot would knock against his leg under the table, slowly dragging up his calf until she reached the top of his boot before she retreated, offering him a sly glance and reciting the question she had asked him when he gave her an awestruck look.  A quiet scoff fell from Rhett’s lips; he had been so oblivious for so long.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Not headed to the diner yet, Rhett?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s head snapped up from the old carpeting in the lobby, finding the angelic vision that was (Y/N).  She stood outside her father’s office, holding a handful of bibles in her arms that pressed against her chest and made her breasts push just that much further out of the low neckline of her sweater.  Rhett thickly swallowed, forcing his eyes to find hers, but that didn’t help much, either.  Her eyes were wide, almost doe-like, as if she had been asking him about something as mundane as the weather.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, ma’am.” Rhett shyly said, the tips of his ears tinted pink when he saw the small smile on (Y/N)’s face when he called her ‘ma’am.’  He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I, uh, I forgot my hat; thought I left it in the sanctuary.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, her eyes quickly scanning the small lobby before landing on the open sanctuary doors.  Sure enough, Rhett’s Stetson sat on the seat he claimed every Sunday.  (Y/N) quietly chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she slyly glanced toward Rhett. “An’ here I thought ya just wanted an excuse to come an’ talk t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Her tone was low and suggestive, sending blood straight to his dick as she ran her tongue over her lip before sinking her teeth into it and tilting her head in the most innocent way.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Do I need an excuse to come an’ talk t’ya?” Rhett rasped, his voice sounding gravelly as it caught in his throat.  However, even with the nerves slowly working their way down his spine, he managed to notice the way that (Y/N) shifted her weight, moving one foot closer to the other as her knees knocked together, almost as if she were trying to subtly relieve tension.  All of his nerves disappeared, and Rhett was filled with a sense of confidence that inflated his ego just enough for him to know that he had the same effect on her that she did him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) hummed, shaking her head as Rhett watched her teeth nibble the inside of her cheek as if she were hiding a sly grin.  She pointed a finger over her shoulder toward the sanctuary doors across the hall, “Your hat’s in the sanctuary if ya wanted to grab it.  Though, I’m not sure I want ya to have it back; I’ve been looking for a new Stetson to wear to the rodeos.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett knew this was his chance to get (Y/N) alone in a room that had a lock on the door.  And, if he was reading her signs correctly, that was what she wanted, too.  So, mustering up as much confidence as he could, he tried to sound as inconspicuously seductive as possible as he stepped closer to her and asked, “If ya wanted t’wear my hat to my rides, all ya had to do was ask, angel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I suppose this is me askin’, then.” It was as if all his prayers had been answered when he saw her pupils dilate and her breath catch in her throat as she nodded once more.  This time, after a short, collective breath, she let that troublemaking smirk settle on her glossed lips as she held a hand out for him to take, “Want me to model it for ya, then?  Make sure it looks alright?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So long as you know what happens when you wear a cowboy’s hat, darlin’.” Rhett smoothly said.  He surprised himself with his response, but he didn’t let himself show it.  (Y/N) grinned, a quiet giggle slipping past her lips as she wiggled the fingers of her outstretched hand, urging him to take it.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I do,” she easily said, and that was all it took.  Rhett slipped his calloused hand into hers, and his first thought was how small her hand was compared to his.  When she threaded her fingers into the spaces between his, the contrast of his rough fingertips against the soft skin of her hand immediately replaced that thought, and it was quickly followed by the idea of how her small, soft hands would feel wrapped around his cock.  His jeans tightened around his hips as she led him to the sanctuary, his body beginning to buzz with adrenaline as the realization that this was finally happening settled in his mind.  He felt like he was about to perform in a rodeo, that familiar twinge of nerves and self-assurance making his heartbeat echo in his ears.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎The sanctuary doors were hardly shut before Rhett had his lips on (Y/N)'s and his hands on her hips, pushing her against the doors with a deep groan.  The bibles in her hands tumbled to the floor as her small hands wove into his hair, pulling him closer to her with every passing second.  Her lips were soft and warm, yet sticky from her lip gloss.  She tasted like strawberries and remnants of the grape juice from communion, an intoxicating combination that Rhett couldn’t get enough of.  Rhett groaned into her mouth, a smirk toying on the corners of his lips when she roughly pulled on his hair.  It stung, but the feel of her mouth on his and her back arching against his body made the sensation feel deliciously blissful.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎It was as if his hands had a mind of their own, wandering across any part of her body he could touch.  They splayed across her back, tugging her closer before they slid around her waist and began to inch upwards under her sweater, itching to feel the weight of her breasts in his palms.  His fingertips traced the underwire of her bra, the satin fabric cool to the touch and a stark contrast from her quickly warming skin.  Rhett could feel that wherever he touched her, a trail of goosebumps followed his hands and her body flooded with warmth.  It was mesmerizing, fueling his need to touch every part of her as he kissed her.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett began to nibble on her bottom lip and (Y/N) opened her mouth to him, exhaling deeply through her nose, almost as if she were trying to keep quiet, but her efforts were hardly concealed when a quiet whine floated past her lips as his tongue grazed hers.  He breathlessly chuckled, pulling away slightly and tightening his grip on her waist as he said, “C’mon, angel.  Don’t hide those sounds from me.  Wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎His words pulled a breathy moan from her lips, telling Rhett exactly what effect he had on her before she had the chance to vocally do so.  Rhett began to trail wet kisses across her jaw, gently nipping at the skin just below the bone before he soothed it with a slow swipe of his tongue, making sure not to leave any marks.  (Y/N) sighed, her head falling back against the sanctuary doors as her hands began to explore the expanse of his clothed chest, fingernails catching on the fabric of his flannel, “I knew you were lookin’ at me this mornin’.  Knew you wanted me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’ve been wantin’ t’have you like this since high school, darlin’.” Rhett admitted, his voice breathless against her skin.  The taste of her strawberry lip gloss was beginning to get lost with the salty taste of perspiration on her skin as the dry Wyoming air clung to their bodies, warming them up in the stuffy sanctuary.  Rhett mouthed his way back up to her lips, the tip of his nose nudging hers as he cheekily said, “Think you have, too, hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s pretty eyes fluttered open slightly, pupils blown and mascara beginning to dot along the skin under her lash line.  She gave him a grin, her chin jutting out so her lips brushed against his with every word she spoke. “Y’have no idea, Rhett.  No idea.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett wasn’t sure who moved first, the feeling of her tongue moving against his as their mouths worked on one another drowning out anything else in his head.  He slotted his thigh between her legs, a deep groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he felt her arousal begin to seep into the denim of his jeans.  His calloused hands wandered further down her body, along the smooth skin of her legs that hadn’t left his mind since he’d caught a glimpse earlier that morning, before they slipped under the hem of her skirt and bunched it around her waist so he could easily guide her hips along his thigh.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) pulled her lips from his with a whine, grinding her hips down onto him as her nimble fingers began to make quick work of the buttons on his flannel, expertly unbuttoning it before untucking it from his jeans and pushing it aside so her hands could feel the smooth muscles of his chest.  Rhett had never been so glad to forgo an undershirt in his life; if he had to wait to have her hands on his skin any longer, he would have combusted.  He could feel his cock hardening in his jeans again when her hands traveled lower, her fingertips brushing along the flexing muscles of his stomach as her lips attached to his peck, right over his bull rider tattoo.  He sucked in a sharp breath when her teeth dragged up his neck and grazed his pulse point before dragging down to the base of his throat just above his clavicle.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett cursed, leaning his head to the side to give her more access to his throat.  She giggled against his skin, her nails raking down his torso again as she sank her teeth into his skin before soothing the mark with her warm tongue.  Rhett bit his lip as he shakily exhaled, pulling his body back as one hand trailed up her body to cup her jaw, holding her face in place so he could kiss her again.  Everything about her was addictive, from the taste of her lip gloss to the way her wet, clothed cunt dragged along his jeans.  Rhett was sure that he had died and gone to Heaven when her fingers hooked into his belt loops and pulled his hips flush against hers, her mouth against his muffling the grunt forcing itself from his lips when his dick pressed against her hip bone.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Rhett,” (Y/N) panted, their hot breaths mingling in the sparse distance between their mouths, “I need you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Where d’you need me, pretty girl?” Rhett whispered, thickly swallowing as he attempted to catch his breath.  His fingertips began to gently play with the band of her panties, the satin fabric smooth against his rough hands slightly as he toyed with her.  He let an accomplished smile tug at his lips when she bucked her hips toward him, chasing the brief feeling of his hands when he pulled away.  Rhett traced a soft line down the front of her core, relishing in the choked hum of approval that left her lips. “Do you need me here?  Hmm?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Yes,” (Y/N) sighed, hands bunching into the fabric of his open flannel to keep his body on hers.  She licked her lips and swallowed, a relieved smile covering her lips, “Yes, please.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, but it was cut off with a proud groan when he felt just how soaked she was.  She was practically dripping, and he was the cause of it.  He hooked a finger around the satin, pushing it to the side to swipe his fingers through her folds, collecting her arousal and spreading it across his fingertips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, shit,” (Y/N) gasped, her forehead falling forward on his shoulder as she braced her hands on his torso.  She hummed as Rhett gently circled her clit, biting her lips as her body jolted with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Angel, I’ve barely touched you,” Rhett teased, but his voice was the furthest thing from jovial.  His voice was deep, laced with lust and barely above a whisper.  A part of him was hardly able to believe that this was happening, but when he felt her body shudder against his as he pressed two fingers against her clit, he knew that this was real.  He didn’t just feel like his prayers had been answered; he knew they had been.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, pulling her head back and snaking her hands up his torso to grab onto the curls of hair at the nape of his neck.  Her eyes were dark with desire, her cheeks flushed and lips kiss-bitten as she leveled her doe-like eyes with his.  She was completely at his mercy. “More, please.  I need more of you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Without warning, Rhett dipped his fingers to her entrance and slowly pushed his ring and middle fingers in, cursing when he felt her warm walls instinctively clench around his digits.  (Y/N) moaned, her body falling lax against the doors as her hands scrambled to find purchase in his hair.  Rhett began to pump his fingers, his free hand holding up his weight against the door by her head.  He kept reaching for that special spot inside of her, curling his fingers to find the spot that would make her legs shake and her chest heave with labored breaths.  He knew he’d found it when he felt that spongy part against his calloused fingertips, and she surged forward and attached her lips to his, whimpering when he picked up the pace of his fingers.  Her mouth opened in a silent moan, and Rhett took advantage of her parted lips to lick into her mouth, swallowing every small whine and whimper that left her sweet lips.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Goddamn, you look so pretty, all needy f’me,” Rhett grunted, feeling her wetness begin to drip down his knuckles into the palm of his hand.  His dick twitched in his jeans, desperately aching for attention, but he was easily able to put aside his needs when he heard the melodic sound of her breath catching in her throat as a strangled moan at his praise.  He cupped his hand around her, pushing the heel of his palm against her clit as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.  Her hips began to grind against his hand, chasing her high with determined circles.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, Rhett, please,” (Y/N) began to ramble, her chest heaving as he pushed her closer to the edge.  She tightened her hold on his hair, pulling his face closer as she looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading with him. “Don’t stop, please.  I’m so, so close.  Please, Rhett.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A dark chuckle left his throat as he ducked his head and placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin just below her ear.  He smirked at the high-pitched noise she made when he began scissoring his fingers inside her, teeth pulling at her earlobe before he whispered, “Let go, angel.  Give it t’me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) came with a shrill cry, her body collapsing against his as she weakly clung to him.  Rhett moaned when he felt her legs attempt to snap shut around his thigh and hand, her cum slowly seeping from her cunt and making a mess all over his fingers and jeans.  His cock pushed against the constraints of his jeans when he looked down to see his hand glistening with her arousal, and his chest swelled when he thought of the fact that he made her cum with nothing but his fingers.  He continued to slowly pump his fingers in and out of her, carrying her through her orgasm until her body stopped shaking.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s hands bunched into the fabric of his open flannel, grounding herself until she found her bearings again.  Rhett gently pulled his hand away from her, holding it up to watch her slick shine in the dim sunlight filtering through the sanctuary windows.  He was suddenly filled with the need to taste her, so he brought his fingers to his lips and began to lick his fingers.  He moaned, swearing that he had never tasted anything so sweet in his life.  She tasted better than any freshly baked apple pie or hand-churned ice cream he’d ever had.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“So sweet, angel,” Rhett hummed, savoring the taste of her with his eyes half-closed before they widened.  (Y/N) had taken a hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from his lips to hers and slowly sucked his fingers into her mouth, a purring sound leaving her throat as her tongue swirled around his digits.  Rhett’s jaw slacked, his eyes darkening as he watched her clean her mess off his fingers.  He reached his other hand down to palm himself over his jeans, shaking his head in amazement when she pulled her mouth off his fingers with a faint pop. “Jesus Christ, darlin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled, still sounding breathless as she began to push him toward the back row of chairs in the sanctuary, her hands firm on his shoulders.  She directed him to a chair and gently sat him down, kneeling in front of him and running her hands slowly up his thighs. “My turn, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could hardly breathe as her dainty hands trailed up his thighs toward his belt buckle, his hands flexing and unflexing around the edge of the chair, unsure what to do with them.  (Y/N) hummed, taking one hand off his leg to take hold of his, silently directing him to hold her jaw before she resumed her quest of unbuckling that large buckle around his hips.  Rhett had been hard as a rock nearly the whole morning, but he felt as if he was growing harder as he watched the sight in front of him, his dick throbbing beneath the feather-light pressure of her forearm over it as she slid the leather belt out of the clasp.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck,” Rhett hissed, watching with lust-blown eyes as she unzipped his jeans, her movements so painfully slow just to tease him.  Although he complied and lifted his hips when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxers, he couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance that rippled through his body as he watched her take her sweet time.  The young Abbott man let his hand slide from her jaw to her chin, holding it firmly between his thumb and forefinger as he pulled her gaze to his eyes.  His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his cheek fluttering with aroused frustration as he sharply said, “I didn’t tease you, now did I?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bit her lip, shaking her head before laying it on the top of his thigh, just out of reach from where he wanted her to touch him the most.  She lazily traced a finger up and down the outline of his cock tenting his boxers, which was pulsing now that the tight denim had been removed.  His hips involuntarily bucked up, his body betraying the slight dominating bite in his tone, which only brought a sly grin to (Y/N)'s face.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, but if I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for as long as I have, I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.” (Y/N) sassed, her brows raising slightly as she challenged him.  All the while, her finger kept running that same trail up his clothed cock.  Her eyes never left the path of her finger, simply enamored with the idea of what Rhett hid underneath those Levi jeans.  Rhett gulped, struggling to regain some control over the situation as she began to apply more pressure to her ministrations, soon letting her wrist go limp so she could use her palm to trace his cock instead of a single finger.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if ya picked up the pace, angel,” Rhett said, his voice sounding as if it was stuck in his throat.  He watched as she licked her lips, her eyes growing wider as she met his gaze.  If he felt breathless before, that was nothing compared to the vision of (Y/N) kneeling between his legs with her palm moving agonizingly slow across his dick.  She looked ethereal, a slight halo of dim lighting surrounding her from the dust-covered windows behind her.  She looked as if she belonged there, sat dutifully before him with her doe-eyes and kiss-swollen lip tucked between her teeth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Y’know, patience is a virtue, Mr. Abbott.” (Y/N) airily said, her cheeks proudly flushing when Rhett’s chest stopped moving.  Rhett wasn’t sure where the reaction came from; he’d never imagined that being scolded and called ‘Mr. Abbott’ would send his body into a frenzy, sparking a need deep within his soul to shove his dick down her throat.  He needed her to wrap her perfectly pouted lips around his cock, and he needed her to do it now.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett tightened his grip on her chin, pulling her face off his thigh before bunching his other hand in her hair to pull her face closer to his as he sat up.  His face hardened as he looked her over, eyes narrowing as his voice deepened, a dominating side overtaking any faint nerves he might have still had. “Y’better put that mouth to use before I do it for you.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎A grin spread across (Y/N)'s face and she leaned up to press a searing kiss to his lips.  It was all tongue and teeth, but Rhett hardly had time to register that he could still gather the faint taste of her cum on her lips before she suddenly reached a hand into his boxers and wrapped her small hand around him.  An almost animalistic growl left his lips as his jaw slacked, his breath shaky when she gently swiped her thumb over his tip and collected the precum leaking from the slit.  Rhett had never been overly vocal, but he couldn’t help the way he moaned when (Y/N) pulled away from his lips and placed a delicate kiss to his tip over his boxers.  It was just a taste of what was to come, and he was already beginning to fall apart.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) let that soft giggle of hers trickle from her lips, thoroughly amused by the young Abbott man’s reaction, before she swiftly pulled his boxers down enough to free his cock, letting it fall against his toned stomach.  Rhett opened his mouth to tell her to use hers, but a strangled groan replaced any words he was about to say when she leaned forward and licked a slow, hot stripe up his shaft, her eyes never leaving his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s back collapsed against the chair, a shudder washing over his body when she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, her tongue teasing his slit and a hum of appreciation sounding from the back of her throat.  Rhett’s hold in her hair tightened, the veins in his forearm beginning to protrude slightly as he let his body take over, bucking his hips and pushing himself further into her warm mouth.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“There ya go, darlin’.” Rhett mumbled, his head falling back as a deep breath left his lips.  (Y/N) slowly dipped her head, taking more of him in her mouth as she hummed, the vibrations in her throat adding to Rhett’s pleasure.  Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly pumping what she couldn’t fit into her mouth as she began to bob her head.  The combination of her warm mouth and the sounds of appreciation she was quietly making was enough to make Rhett’s head spin.  He swore he had never felt anything so good in his life, finally having the girl he’s pined after for years with her lips around his dick and her lust-blown eyes glancing up at him through her lashes.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s free hand was gently running across his hip, her nails scratching his skin so lightly that Rhett hardly realized what she was doing until he let go of her jaw to take her hand in his.  He sighed, eyes rolling back when she let go of his cock and pushed her head down further until the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.  A deep rumble of a groan left his lips and his fingers laced through hers, squeezing her hand tightly in appreciation.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Fuck, you’re good at that,” Rhett breathed, tucking his chin to his chest so he could watch her continue to take him deeper and deeper until her nose nearly brushed the patch of hair at the base of his cock.  It truly was a sight to behold; the beautiful preacher’s daughter deepthroating the wild bull rider known for sleeping around.  Rhett knew he’d never be able to forget the image of (Y/N) between his legs, and the realization that he’d have this memory to look back on the next time he was feeling lonely made his cock twitch in her mouth.  (Y/N) let out a long breath before attempting to take him further, and the feeling of her nose finally reaching his pubic bone had Rhett bucking his hips before he could stop himself.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) gagged around him, and that didn’t help the way the coil in Rhett’s stomach tightened with the need to feel her do that again, and keep her mouth stuffed full of him.  He let go of her hand and let it join his other hand in her hair, but before he could force her to cockwarm him with her throat, he was somehow able to have the thought that she might not want to.  And Rhett was a gentleman, even with lust clouding his senses.  If he wanted to ensure that this wasn’t a one-time deal, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“This okay, angel?” Rhett rasped, his voice gravelly and somewhat hoarse.  (Y/N) looked up at him, her lashes clumped together slightly and wet with unshed tears, her mascara beginning to trail down the apples of her cheeks, but that couldn’t do anything to hide the earnest look in her eyes.  She pulled off of his cock with a gasp, her head nodding eagerly as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“More than okay.” (Y/N) breathlessly said, already leaning down to take him in her mouth again.  Rhett moaned when she sunk down around him without hesitation, a deep exhale through her nose tickling his pubic hair as she hummed around him again.  Her hands rested on his hips, fingers flexing as she focused on her breathing.  Rhett was utterly entranced as he watched her, so eager to please him and bring him his release right there in the church sanctuary.  His stomach began to churn, his breathing becoming uneven and ragged as he shakily exhaled.  She slowly pulled her mouth up his shaft, tongue swirling around his tip before dipping down once more, not stopping until she was completely full of him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett could feel his orgasm was fast approaching as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting and tightening around him before she pulled up and suckled his tip, her tongue running along the slit as she lazily pumped him with one hand so she could catch her breath.  The coil in Rhett’s stomach began to subside, but that allowed his head to clear enough to realize that if he was going to cum, it wasn’t going to be in her mouth.  That was going to be an image he could capture at another time, but right now, all he wanted was to have the picture of her riding him wearing his Stetson ingrained in his mind.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett heaved a long breath, his chest deflating slightly as he slid a hand around her chin again.  With a mumbled, ‘Come ‘ere, angel,’ he brought her lips to his, kissing her sweetly before he found that dominating side from moments ago. “You gon’ model that hat f’me or what, honey?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N)'s eyes lit up as she giggled, nodding her head and reaching over to grab his Stetson from the seat beside him.  She kept her eyes on his as she situated it on her head, adjusting it so it hung low over her eyes the way he had it that morning.  Her head tilted back, gaze meeting his through hooded eyes as she teasingly turned her face from side to side to show it off.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“What d’ya think, Rhett?” (Y/N) teased, leaning down to kitten-lick the tip of his cock, quiet moans leaving her lips as she gathered the leaking precum on her tongue.  All Rhett could do was groan, his dick throbbing against his stomach as he looked her over with hungry eyes.  He had never seen a more perfect sight, not even the Tetons at sunset could compete with her wearing his hat.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett clicked his tongue and smirked, his fingers tightening around her chin slightly as he breathlessly said, “You’re gon’ make me an even bigger goddamn sinner, sweetheart.  You look so fuckin’ perfect wearing my hat with my dick in your mouth.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giddily hummed, wrapping her lips around his tip once more and dipping her head until the rim of the hat hit Rhett’s abs.  She pulled off him again with a soft pop, sitting back on her heels as she hummed contentedly.  She grinned up at him, eyes playful as she asked, “Now, isn’t there somethin’ I’m supposed to do if I’m wearin’ a cowboy’s hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled, simultaneously amused and aroused by her seemingly innocent question.  He nodded, leaning forward as his hands slipped to her biceps to pull her up on her knees again. “Get up here in my lap, pretty girl.  Time to show ya somethin’ ‘bout ridin’.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) wasted no time in standing to her feet, teasingly trailing her fingertips up her thighs until they breached the hem of her skirt and tucked into the band of her ruined satin panties before she swiftly pulled them down her legs and stepped out of them.  She smirked as she leaned forward and tucked the panties into his front pocket before straddling his thighs.  Rhett’s hands immediately found her hips, pushing her skirt up so he could feel her hot skin against his rough hands and direct her dripping core to drag over his cock.  They both moaned at the feeling, (Y/N)'s head lolling on her shoulders as her hands gripped his shoulders.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Please, Rhett,” (Y/N) whined, her teasing nature long gone as she began to grind along the length of his cock.  She gasped when the tip bumped her clit, her eyes fluttering shut as her fingers flexed in pleasure.  She licked her lips, that intoxicating strawberry lipstick long gone as she reached a shaky hand up to hold his hat on her head. “Rhett, please, fuck me.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett had imagined her begging for his cock so many times, but nothing could have prepared him for the feral feeling that would spread like wildfire through his chest when she finally did.  It was pure instinct as one of his hands left her hips and grasped the base of his cock, the other holding her firmly in place as he aligned himself with her entrance.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett’s eyes flickered up to her face to watch her as he eased her down onto his length, his jaw slacking at the sight.  Her lips parted, eyes screwed shut, and cheeks flushed as a breathy moan left her lips.  His hat was slightly askew on her head, casting a shadow over half of her face as her chest heaved with panted breaths.  Rhett swore he could have cum right then, the feeling of her tight walls slowly encapsulating him and hugging every inch perfectly as she whimpered above him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Jesus, angel,” Rhett sighed, his hands tightening on her hips as she lowered herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  He could feel that sweet spongy spot against his tip, every breath she took, and every noise she made making her walls flutter around him in a way that made him wonder why he’d never acted on his desires sooner.  He’d been missing out on all of this for years, but there was no way he was going to anymore.  She hadn’t even begun to ride him and he was already so far gone for her he knew she’d ruined any other woman for him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) shakily exhaled, her chest dropping forward so she could press and hungry kiss to his lips as she began to raise her hips.  Her movements were agonizingly slow, every shift of her muscles calculated to bring the both of them the most pleasure possible.  Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she sunk down on him again, faster than the first time, before repeating her actions.  Each time she lowered her hips against his, her pace grew faster and harder, a steady stream of skin slapping skin filling the sanctuary.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett let out a string of curses as she began to circle her hips every time she sunk down on him, a hand flying up to the back of her neck to keep her lips on his as his hips began to buck up into her.  He met every bounce, every roll of her hips in perfect synchronicity; it was as if they had been fucking one another for years and knew exactly how to bring each other to the brink without a second thought.  Every lovesick idea that Rhett had that they were perfect for one another was confirmed as their bodies moved, chasing their highs as their stomachs churned with desire.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) bunched the fabric of his flannel in her hands, supporting her weight on his chest as she bounced on his cock, keeping each one small so he hardly left her cunt at all but still hit her g-spot with every thrust.  Rhett felt her walls clench around him as she whimpered, “I’m so, so close, Rhett.  Oh, my god.  Fuck!”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett grunted in concentration as one hand slid from her hip to the front of her body, his fingers splayed across her stomach as his thumb began to circle her clit.  He could feel his cock pushing against her stomach with every thrust, sending his body and mind into a frenzy as he sped up the speed of his thrusts.  Rhett couldn’t even form complete words, anything he wanted to say was lost in his throat as it turned into desperate moans and grunts.  His mind began to cloud with nothing but the want to make her cum, and he began to tighten the circles his thumb was making on her clit, focusing purely on the small bundle of nerves as she frantically ground her hips against his.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” (Y/N)'s words were jumbled, running together as she clung to Rhett’s shoulders.  Rhett could feel his orgasm quickly approaching with each brush of his tip against her g-spot and each tug of his hair.  (Y/N)'s walls clung to him, pulsing as he finally pushed her over the cliff, sending her spiraling into a trembling orgasm that had her entire body jolting with pleasure.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Shit, angel, I’m close.” Rhett wasn’t far behind, and although he wanted nothing more than to cum inside her and claim her as his own, he didn’t want to fuck this up.  He grunted, slowing his hips just enough to keep himself right on the edge of an orgasm to ask, “Where d’you want me, pretty girl?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“Inside!” (Y/N) practically begged, finding the strength to pull her head back and meet his eyes.  Hers were wide, pleading with him to cum inside of her as she nodded her head. “Please, Rhett, please, I want it all.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎That was all it took to hurl him over the edge.  Rhett’s hips stuttered before they stilled, the coil in his stomach snapping as he came inside her, painting her warm walls with his seed as a pathetic moan tumbled past his lips.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body shook, her pussy clenching around him and milking him for everything he had.  His entire body tensed, fingers flexed so hard around her hips that he knew there’d be bruises when he let go of her.  He had never cum so hard, his orgasm taking every ounce of energy and more until the last spurt of cum.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎They were both absolutely spent, lungs burning for air as they attempted to catch their breaths.  It was eerily silent in the old, stuffy sanctuary, save for their labored breaths and the nearly undetectable sound of (Y/N)'s nails running across Rhett’s chest.  Rhett was slowly becoming aware of the sticky sheen of sweat covering their bodies and the mess pooling around the base of his softening cock as their combined cum leaked from her pussy.  (Y/N) lazily kissed at Rhett’s neck, grounding herself with the action before she pushed herself up, hands braced on his pecs as she grinned at him.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) playfully bit her lips, meeting his shining blue eyes as she said, “You’re not gettin’ this hat back, cowboy.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett breathlessly chuckled, pushing his hair back from his face as he gazed up at her. “If I get t’fuck you like that when ya wear it, I don’ want it back.  Jesus Christ.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) giggled and reached up to tilt the hat back as she leaned down, softly kissing his lips before she sat back up, smirking as he chased after her before his back collapsed against the chair again.  She slowly lifted herself off of him, letting her skirt drop to cover herself as she stood on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go get us somethin’ t’clean up with.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎“No, no, I got it.” Rhett immediately said, pushing himself off the chair and scrambling to tuck himself back into his boxers.  He adjusted his jeans on his hips, but opted to leave them undone until he was cleaned up.  He smiled at (Y/N) and leaned down over her, tilting her chin up as he whispered, “Least I can do after the best sex of my life, sweetheart.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett placed a chaste kiss to her lips before he stood up straight and made his way to the altar at the other end of the room, knowing that they kept napkins in one of the tables back there.  He returned with a handful, kneeling before her and carefully wiping her legs clean of their cum with whispered apologies if she hissed from oversensitivity.  It was such a stark contrast from his fast and brutal pace that (Y/N) was wistfully sighing, watching him with adoring eyes as he wiped himself down and tossed the napkins into a bin near the sanctuary doors.

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stood up and slowly walked over to Rhett, her arms circling his waist as he finished buckling his belt as she grinned up at him. “Y’know, maybe I’ll wear the hat to the rodeos this weekend.  Could be your good luck charm.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett chuckled and turned around in her arms, hands gently squeezing her waist as he hummed in approval. “Ya want everyone t’see ya wearing my hat?”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) eagerly nodded, eyes glinting with mischief as she said, “Been lookin’ for a way outta my daddy’s house for years.  Maybe he’ll be mad enough t’kick me out if he sees me wearin’ the hat of ‘that damn Abbot boy.’”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Rhett smiled and flicked the brim of the hat, letting it settle above her eyebrows so he could see her eyes better. “Good idea, angel.  Then I’d get ya all t’myself.”

‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎(Y/N) stretched up on her toes and gently pressed her lips to his, sighing contentedly as Rhett pulled her body flush against his.  Rhett knew he had gotten himself into a tricky situation by fucking the preacher’s daughter, but with her lips against his, the opinions and judgements of the residents of Wabang couldn’t have mattered any less to him.  He had an angel that could sin like the devil in his arms.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hehe the full fic is finally here! i'm super excited but also a little nervous, this is my first time posting smut online, so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! the end is a little rushed, but i was just super excited to get this out for you guys, so here we are lol i have an idea in mind for a part two if anyone would be interested? let me know, love you all so so much!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @callsign-joyride, @downinroma,

If you'd like to be added to any of my taglists, click here!

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

Never There (REUPLOADED)

Author’s note: it’s... been a while since I’ve written anything, I wrote a lot of hockey imagines back in the day and haven’t posted anything in a handful of years, but I recently watched Top Gun Maverick for the first time and this came to me as I was falling asleep one night and I just needed to get out. 

Prompt: “you were never there for me when I wanted you to be there, they were.”

Pairing: Bradley x f!Reader, slight Bob x f!Reader if you squint; no use of Y/N, only body description is curvy

warning: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of lingerie

not dialogue heavy

REUPLOADED

Words: 2.5k

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You and Bradley grew up together. Your mom’s were best friends, you two had been born only months apart from each other, and when Bradley’s dad passed away, it was a no-brainer that your mom would take Carole and Bradley in. 

Growing up your mom’s always had the idea that you and Bradley would end up together, so when you two started dating they were over the moon. You two were already inseparable, add romance to the mix and you two became unbearable to all of your friends, he was your first everything; first love, first kiss, first time, and later on, first heartbreak.

When Carole passed away it was hard for Bradley. To be so young and to have already lost both your parents before becoming an adult yourself is no easy feat. Unfortunately, your mom followed soon after Carole. Your dad was no longer in the picture, so leaving the only place you had ever called home was easy to do. 

You followed Bradley to University of Virginia after you graduated high school, he studied political science and you took undergrad courses that would later allow you to get into veterinary medicine, something that you had felt called to do your whole life, just like he felt a call to the Navy. 

You’ll never forget when he came home, seething angry about how his godfather pulled his papers into the naval academy. You were there for him while he cried in frustration and cursed Pete “Maverick” Mitchell’s name. 

You were there for his college graduation, proudly cheering for him from the audience as he got his political science degree. He had a massive smile on his face as he realized he was finally able to focus on getting into the Navy. Which he did, later that summer after he graduated. 

When it came time for you to graduate with a general science degree, he was nowhere to be seen. The seat that he should have been sitting in was empty and cold, and you returned home to a dark apartment later that evening. It was after midnight when he finally made his appearance, stumbling into the unit you two shared after a night out with a few guys he had met at the naval academy who happened to be in town. You just smiled and told him it was okay before tucking him into bed. 

When he graduated from the naval academy, you were there for his tapping out ceremony. He reminded you everyday in the week leading up to it so you wouldn’t forget, not like it mattered though because you couldn’t wait to see him doing what he wanted to do. 

You put your career on hold while he was away at Top Gun, you would bartend while he would sit at the bar so you could spend time together, that was before he met a solid group of fellow aviators who became his friends, and in turn yours. 

You applied to University of California, Davis for their veterinary program and ended up being accepted into the program on your first application. You were over the moon, but when you called him he left you with a “that’s great baby, but I’m out with the guys right now. Love you” before hanging up and you sighed, knowing he was stressed and this was an easy way for him to blow off some steam. 

You met the special detachment a few weeks before your white coat ceremony at UC Davis, connecting instantly with all of them and they were all excited for you to attend the veterinary program. There were promises of them attending the white coat ceremony so you got tickets for the six of them, plus Bradley. 

You texted all of them in a group chat about what time the ceremony started and they all assured you that they would be there, but when your name got called, only Bob was seated in the middle of six empty chairs. Your heart sank but you kept your smile as you got your white coat.

“Well, look at you.” Bob says in his Montanan accent and you smile as he wraps his arms around you. “You look great, future dog-ter.” 

You laugh and choke back the tears, “Thanks Bobby, it means a lot.” you give him a small smile and he rubs your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” he says and you shrug, not worth dwelling on the rest of the team not being there.

He takes you out to dinner and despite only knowing each other for a few weeks, it felt easy talking to him. You opened up to him about your dad never being there, your mom raising you alongside Bradley with Carole. You tell him about your childhood dog Harley and how your grandparents had a couple of horses in the mountains that you used to ride. He told you about his sisters, what life was like in rural Montana, and how he couldn’t wait to go back and see his family even if it meant doing some chores around the farm. When he smiled at you over a shared piece of tiramisu, you knew you were done for.

You kept your secret for the next four years, every important event in your life, you counted on Bradley not to show up, but Bob was always there to take you out for dinner afterwards, an unspoken tradition. 

You had many fights with Bradley during those four years, each fight led you to spend the night at Bob’s and overtime he fell for you too. Slowly, then all at once when you ended up on his doorstep crying for the third time this month already.

“Sweetheart..” he breathes out as you barely into his chest and sob. He pulls you inside and shuts and locks his door before walking over to the couch, “do you want to talk about it?” he asks and you just shake your head no.

“Brad and I broke up.” you sob out and he holds you a little tighter.

Two days ago, you graduated with your PhD in veterinary medicine. You had done it, you officially became a doctor. You had invited everyone to the ceremony, Bradley, Bob, Phoenix, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, even Maverick and Penny were invited to the graduation ceremony. You told all of them and circled the time that you were graduating since there were two times listed for the building your ceremony was held. You were in the 1-4pm time slot and you even texted everyone the day of the ceremony that you would see time in a few hours at 1pm before you had to line up. When Bob is the only one standing there you’re a little discouraged but he told you not to worry, and that the rest of the gang would be there soon, he was just early. You smiled and talked with him for a bit before being called to line up. He gives you a hug and a kiss on the head, making you both blush before he goes and finds his seat. 

After the ceremony, however, your heart sank deep into the depths of your stomach and he shakes his head, “I am so sorry, sweetheart..” and you just shake your head.

“Don’t. I don’t want to cry right now.” you say and he smiles before taking your phone from you and holding it out so he can take some pictures of you two. A friend of yours from the program offers to ‘take a few pictures of you and your boyfriend’ and before you can correct her, Bob passes your phone with a smile and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him and kisses your temple. The gesture takes you by surprise and your friend captures your genuine reaction to it with a smile before handing your phone back to you before walking away.

“Ready to go get dinner?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, can we go to the Hard Deck?” you ask, knowing that that’s where you’ll find everyone else. He just nods and takes your hand, butterflies appear where there was previously a hot coal of disappointment. Bob drove back to the airport where a charter flight was waiting to take you back to San Diego. On the flight back, you look through your photo album, realizing way too quickly that you had more photos of you and Bob over the years than you ever did you and Bradley. 

You drafted up an instagram post, waiting to publish it after you landed. You selected the picture that your friend took as well as a selfie that Bob took. Finally a dog-ter, thanks bobby for being the best of the best you caption the post and tag Bob in the post. 

You hit post when the plane touches down, it was a short flight thank god, and before you know it you're busting through the doors of the Hard Deck. 

“Bradley Bradshaw.” you spit when you see him standing a little too close to Phoenix.

“Wha-” he starts when he sees you walking up to him and you slap him across the face. “What the fuck is your problem?” he nearly yells, grabbing the whole attention of the bar. 

“You are.” you spit out before looking at the rest of the group. “You know, the one time I care about you all showing up for me, and being there for me, was today. I never asked for anything and I forgave all of you every other time that y’all bailed on plans. My white coat ceremony? That’s fine, it wasn’t too big of a deal.” You turn and look at Bradley, “my graduation from UVA? You weren’t there. You weren’t at my high school graduation, you didn’t come back for my senior prom either. You come home late most nights and are gone before I wake up.. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore Brad..” you say before turning to leave. “And, you two? You’re adults who have been like my parents for the last five years, and not even you could show up for my doctorate graduation?” you just shake your head and leave everyone staring at each other, the bar quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop in the kitchen. You walk out to Bob’s car and lean against it and let out a sob, jumping when you feel a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s just me.. Do you want to come back to mine?” Bob asks and you shake your head no.

“Can you take me back to mine? I think I’m gonna pack some stuff up… I can’t do this anymore Bob.. I want to go back home.” you choke out and he nods his head, opening the passenger door up for you and you waste no time sitting down in the seat. He shuts the door behind you and walks to the driver’s side. Once inside he looks at you and places a gentle hand on your leg that doesn’t move until you get out of his car in your driveway. 

“Thank you.” you say and he looks over at you with a small smile.

“You don’t need to thank me for anything, darlin’.” He says and before you can change your mind, you lean across the center console of his FJ and kiss him softly. 

“I do, though.” you say before getting out of the car and into the apartment that you share with Brad. When you hear Bob pull away you look around the living room, seeing more of Brad’s achievements around the area than any of yours. 

Packing is easy, you already had a few things squared away and in the back of your jeep, knowing that Bradley would never care enough to check your car for anything. You were in the process of finishing on clearing out your closet when you found a lingerie set that isn’t yours. The biggest giveaways are that it’s too slim for your curvy figure, it’s lace, and it’s a deep shade of pink. You only wore red or black when the mood struck and never any lace. The fact that your boyfriend was sleeping with someone else, in your own bed, just made you sick. You continued packing, quicker now that you found the lingerie. 

You were coming back in from taking the last suitcase out to your car when Bradley pulled into the driveway. "What are you doing?" he asks and you look over at him.

"What do you mean 'what are you doing?' Bradley? I'm fucking done." you say as you walk into the bedroom to grab the lace one piece. 

"You're leaving?" he asks, voice booming in the unit. 

"Yeah! I'm fucking leaving, Bradley! I'm tired of not being important enough for you anymore!" your voice echoes in the hall as you stomp back to here he his, shoving the garment at his chest, "we're fucking done." 

He pales when he looks at what you slapped against him "Baby I-"

"Don't. Don't you fucking 'baby' me, Bradley. You were never there for me and now I understand why. How long have you been fucking her?"

"I'm not fucking Phoenix. How long have you been fucking Bob?" he spits, throwing the lace on the floor.

"I never said a name." you say, eyes full of unshed tears and he pales when he realizes his mistake. "I understand that I went to school eight hours away, you don't think that wasn't hard for me? Obviously it was easy for you when you had your fucking wingman in our bed! Is that why there's no trace of me, of us, anywhere in this apartment? There's no more pictures of us on the wall, just your stuff in the bathroom.. I'm tired of living like a stranger in my own fucking home!"

He tries to take a step closer but you take two steps back. "How long?" you ask, refusing to look at him.

"How long what?"

"How long since you stopped loving me?" you say, voice above a whisper. 

In his silence, you find your answer. You nod softly with a self depreciating laugh. "When you weren't there for me, Bob was. I was there for you, for everything. Since we were babies and I couldn't even get you to show up for me, one time. All the military ceremonies and the navy balls and the graduations, and seeing you off before deployments and being there when you got back but you couldn't once be there for me?" you say, finally looking over at him as the tears fall. "I never cheated on you with Bob. I've never had sex with him, Roos.." you bite back a sob and he hangs his head. "But somewhere along the way I fell in love with him, and i can only hope that one day you will actually love someone how I loved you." you say, slipping the apartment key off your keys and you place it gently on the coffee table before walking out the door on the man you thought that you were going to spend the rest of your life with, and into the arms of the man who was always there for you.

[thebradleybradshaw]

a-z SFW prompt | b.floyd

synopsis: the SFW alphabet for bob floyd

note: two posts in one day, who is she?? here's some soft bob for all the bob peeps!! this was cowritten and is dedicated to @callsignbob my wife for life and the biggest bob girl you'll ever meet !! likes, comments, & reblogs are always appreciate. enjoy !!xx

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Bob is the most affectionate man on the planet. He has a quirk that requires him to be touching you at all times no matter what. Even if it’s just a small pinky finger resting on your thigh -it’s enough. He’s an anxious individual, that’s for sure. He relies on you to help keep him grounded. He has more of a ‘classic’ mindset. He’s opening up doors, having you stand on the opposite side of the sidewalk so you’re not near the street, and he sleeps closest to the door in case of intruders. You and your happiness are at the forefront of his mind every day.

He’s also a note writer. He leaves a post-it on his pillow as he leaves for work in the early mornings. ‘Be back for dinner, have a good day gorgeous. I love you! -Bob’. He’s always signing his name as if you don’t know who wrote the note. On special occasions he’ll write a longer love letter that perfectly describes the feelings he can’t say.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Bob was too nervous to share his feelings for a long time. You ran into him at the coffee machine and decided to introduce yourself. He was immediately enamored, but couldn’t really get the words out. He managed to squeak out his name before hurriedly making his way back to his desk. You found him absolutely adorable. 

He was always the person that you could go to with your problems. You would ask him if he would like to have lunch, which he always would. You would then go on a tangent of something that was bugging the heck out of you. He listened intently and gave you the most sound advice you had ever heard. He even check in later that day to see how it went. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’s the cuddliest boyfriend in the world. He’ll come home, looking tired, and just plop himself in your lap so he can compress. He’ll let out a long sigh and a soft ‘play with my hair please”. Pressure is also something that calms him down, so he particularly enjoys you laying on top of him on the couch, letting your heart beat against his. It’s almost like his own personal guided meditation. The tickle of your hair on his nose and body curled atop his lulls him to sleep every time.

Before bed he faces you as you lie together, talking about things to do the next day and double checking commitments you’re supposed to attend that week. He looks at you with such dreamy eyes you’re practically melting. You watch as his nose twitches as he begins to fall asleep and you have to convince him to just go to sleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Dear God does Bob want the white picket fence lifestyle. He pretty much knew after the second date that you were someone he wanted to keep around for a very long time. He would daydream of the beautiful house the two of you would own, matching cars, and even children. Bob would walk around as if he were on cloud nine. Phoenix had to constantly elbow him before missions to get him back to reality. She was also the one person who had to hear about you constantly. “Y/N this, Y/N that.” It got to the point where she had to sit him down and say “Bob, just propose already.” He ran to the jewelry store that afternoon.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The man would be an absolute mess. He would’ve lost days of sleep just contemplating how to say it or what to do. This was not a situation that he took lightly. He made a very detailed pros and cons list. If the cons outweigh the pros he would instantly crumble.He would have tears streaming down his face as he apologized  for what seemed like hours. Although, Bob would be that ex that always stays around in a positive way. He would still text you happy birthday, or congratulations, if something important happened. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Let’s dive deep into Bob and his proposal. 

For your first date he had taken you to a local diner that had a Southern quality that reminded him of home. It was a random place that he had found when he felt adventurous and homesick one day. It meant a lot to him, and he knew that you would understand the sentiment. He was so nervous to take you there, hoping you wouldn’t turn away. It ended up being the best first date he’d ever been on.

So, he takes you back. He claims it’s just a chance to get out of the house and have a date night. You have absolutely no idea of what he had planned. While you were getting dressed, he had called up the joint, speaking to the waitress that was always working. She was a lovely older woman who had taken kindly to the two of you. The plan was: once the check comes she puts on ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’ by the Beach Boys on the jukebox.

Dinner and dessert came and went and you were feeling great. When the check came, Bob didn’t go for it like he usually did. Normally, he would snatch it in an instant so you couldn’t see how much you spent and he would take care of it. Instead, he slid it in your direction. Odd, you thought. Upon opening the booklet you saw a diamond ring placed where the check should be. You look up to see Bob wide eyed and beaming. Who could say no to that face?

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s the softest, gentlest man alive. He caresses you as if you’re made of glass. His touch is so light on your face. He holds you like he’s holding a piece of art from the Louvre. Yet, every touch sends an electric shock through your nerves and your head get a bit dizzy. He’s also incredibly soft spoken. If an issue arises he’s the first to say he wants to talk and he sits you down at the kitchen table to fix it. 

“This happened the other day and honestly I didn’t feel great,” he would state. “I would appreciate it if we could fix that, please.” He wears his emotions on his sleeve. You never have to ask how he is feeling. Whether it’s good, or bad, he’s talkative and upfront about how he feels. It’s something that you really appreciate and it keeps the relationship healthy.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Bob’s a hugger. Before he leaves for work he makes sure to pull you into a tight embrace, with a kiss to your hair, and take a minute just to hold you. That imprint of a hug keeps him warm and happy until he gets back home. When you’re resting on the couch at the end of a long day he likes to have you in his lap, running his fingers through your hair and down you legs as he watches the evening news. 

When at the bar together he keeps a soft arm around your waist, resting you against him as he sits at the bar stool. His fingers play with your belt loops as he laughs at the boys playing pool. If a slow song comes on he likes to hold you from behind and gently sway about the beat.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It was another moment of Bob’s word vomit. It was several months of being together when he had an epiphany during the night. He tossed and turned wondering if he should be the first to say it. He had to. He had to get that off his chest before it gave him a heart attack. You had invited him over to cook him a nice dinner. He seemed off that night, knee constantly bouncing and sweat beading at his hairline. You weren’t sure if he didn’t like the food, or what the issue may be. 

You sat across from him, nursing the drink in your hand. Out of the blue Bob pulled out a pack of Post-It notes and began scribbling. You quirked an eyebrow at the scene, having absolutely no idea what was going on. As he put his pen down, he silently pushed the note over to you. In red ink read the words ‘I’m hopelessly in love with you”. You stifled a cough out of surprise as you told him, “I’m hopelessly in love with you too.” It was the first of many notes to be received from him.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s not too jealous. It’s more insecurity than anything. He’ll watch as Hangman tries to chat you up and wonder if you may be better off with him instead. There’s a constant fear in his head that he’s not doing enough, that he’s not like the other guys on the squad. It’s the one part he’s terrible communicating on. You’re practically pulling teeth to get it out of him. He’s quiet the rest of the night and has a hard time keeping eye contact. After a few questions of ‘what’s wrong’ or ‘what happened’, you’re finally piecing together what happened. He apologizes profusely until you reassure him that absolutely nothing and no one would take you away.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Bob has the softest lips on the planet. There’s not a single part of your skin that doesn’t crave the feeling of his lips. He’s always peppering them on your shoulders as he’s behind you, swaying to an imaginary beat as you cook dinner or fold laundry. He’s placing kisses to your hair as you rest in his nap as he reads - taking a pause after every page.

He places chaste kisses to your lips in the middle of a sentence because he’s been staring at your lips for the last ten minutes. He’s waking you up with soft pecks to your nose as he watches it crinkle in reaction. He’s giving you a forehead kiss as you’re at the bar, for no other reason than to just kiss you. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children are easier than adults. He has no problem jumping into kid mode. He’ll play soccer with a young boy at the park that asked him to play. He’s teaching him how to properly kick and score goals. He’ll have a conversation with a little girl that randomly came up to him to say hi. “Hi, I’m Bob! What’s your name?” “You’re four?! Wow that’s so cool!” “What’s your favorite color?” You nearly burst into tears watching him carry on a conversation.

He’ll smile and coo at a baby that stares him down while grocery shopping. “Hi!” he beams as the child produces a gummy smile. He can’t wait to have kids of his own. He’ll daydream about what your future kids will look like and what names you may give them. He may already have a few names picked out. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Bob wakes up early on purpose. He likes to sneak out of bed, making a cup of tea or coffee and breakfast, and surprise you with breakfast in bed. Except it’s not really a surprise when he does it every day. He’ll get dressed for his off day as you eat your breakfast, asking your opinion on how it looks or if he chose the right color. 

You happily watch his fashion show as he second guesses his button down and decides on a t-shirt instead. He’ll take the tray from you and run downstairs to clean it up. He’s back again before you can blink and diving head first into the bed for a kiss. He gives you an itinerary of his day and offers for you to tag along if you wish. He’ll send you a text of his location so you don’t have to worry and then he’s off, probably being bullied by Rooster.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

It’s 9:00 pm. You’ve decided to retire to your room with your fiance for bed. As the two of you change into sleepwear, Bob pulls out two custom robes that he had made. They’re both a soft and fluffy white with your initials embroidered into the pocket. Where your usual last initial would be now sits an ‘F’. It may be the sweetest gift you’ve ever received. Bob helps you put it on as he ties the belt for you. He’s practically beaming.

The two of you enter your shared bathroom, placing roots at the sink to do skincare and brush your teeth. The room is silent save for the sound of toothbrushes cleaning teeth. You steal glances in the mirror, both too sheepish to say much. His cheeks and nose are glowing red, something that happens when he’s reached the height of happiness. 

From the bathroom you make your way to the bed, Bob already has your side covers pulled down so you can easily slip in. The two of you open your night reading, lamps providing the only light in the room. You read in comfortable silence until your eyes begin to grow heavy. The book is too good to put down, so you slide it over to your fiance, silently asking him to read aloud. Your head rests on his lap as you’re lulled into sleep by the sound of his voice.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Bob says everything all at once, all of the time. He’s a great conversationalist, always finding a new topic to talk about when the other has run its course. You spent most of your first date talking about all of the basic topics: where you’re from, why you moved here, what you do for work. It was simple and easy flowing conversations. Although he didn’t fully up about serious topics.

That happens in baby steps. He’ll slowly reveal a serious topic, but once he’s started he can’t stop. He’ll spiral into a long winded story about something that happened in his life that made him who he is today. You hang on to every word, mentally taking notes. You always love hearing the sound of his voice and always offer to let him tell you the next story.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Bob doesn’t get mad. He’s the most slow to anger person you’ve ever met. You once accidentally broke his electric razor and fully expected a lecture. Instead, he reminded you that it can be easily replaced and he ordered another one on Amazon without another word about it. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’ll talk about it and solve it. He doesn’t believe much happens with fists. He’s very much a pacifist. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers every single tiny little detail. He knows how you like your eggs, what milk you prefer in your coffee, even the type of records you collect. His calendar is filled with important dates including your birthday and anniversary. He has a scheduled delivery of your favorite flowers every week. He constantly keeps your toiletries stocked up so that you never run out. 

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The day you moved in was a bright and gorgeous Tuesday. He had spent the previous week deep cleaning the house and making sure you had all the space you could possibly need. Half of his closet and an entire dresser was prepared for your clothes, the skin cleared for your products, and the living room couch ready for your decorative pillows and blankets.

He hated being apart from you. Having you to himself every day was an absolute dream come true. Bob was practically skipping bringing your boxes in. He gave you the time and space you needed to be comfortable and constantly reminded you that this was now your home too and you could decorate however you wanted. 

The first night together in a shared bed in your now shared home was eventful. Bob let out all of his loving emotions and continued it into the early morning. From then on he was always bright and cheery at work every single morning.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

When it comes to physical security, Bob is the best. Every night he makes a routine of checking windows, locking doors, and setting the alarm system. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you - especially in your home. You wait in bed for him to come back, asking a quick “all good?” and he replies with “house is secured”. You never thought that such a phrase could hold such meaning to you.

No matter how anxious he can be, when a situation arises he is the first to step up. Anxiety flies out the window and all he is concerned about is protecting you. He would square up with the tallest man in the world if it meant keeping you safe. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Every anniversary, birthday, or date night is extravagant. He’ll spend months planning for your big day and doing things he knows you’ll love to do. All he wants in return is to see that beaming smile on your face. He thinks you’re the most deserving of love and happiness, and there is no expense that would limit that. 

Even on the daily, he makes sure to do something for you, whether that’s folding your laundry if you’re feeling too tired, making you a smoothie while you read, or turning up the heat if he sees you shiver.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Not necessarily ugly, but he does tend to get highly anxious and insecure easily. There may be days where you have to cancel plans because he’s feeling ‘under the weather’. He would beg you to still go, but you couldn’t leave him there alone wrapped under a million blankets in bed. He just needs to hear your reassurance that he’s doing a good job and that he’s a good boyfriend.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s the least concerned about his looks. Of course he may point out some under eye bags or a stress pimple, but that’s really all he notices. He doesn’t take time to look at himself in the mirror or do his hair. He just throws on his classes, combs his hair, and he’s good. He’s never really seen the point in spending lots of time on his appearance. He loves to make fun of Rooster every time he catches him staring at himself in a mirror.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Bob can’t survive without you. You’ve taken over every part of his life. When you’re gone he’s curled up with your pillow and sweatshirt, taking in the scent of your lotion and perfume that still remains. He’s texting you, asking how you’re doing and how your day was. He loves to see you off having adventures with loved ones, he loves looking at all of the pictures that you send back.

He’ll spend his time moping around, a pout permanently on his face. Phoenix does her best to cheer him up, but nothing works. The only thing that can remove the dark cloud from his head is your return. He engulfs you like he hasn’t seen you in months. It was only a long weekend. He refuses to let you, following you around so you aren’t away from him again. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Bob’s a dancer. If it’s a sunny Saturday with nothing to do he’ll play some music on his speakers and whisk you around the house. He would never be caught dead dancing in public, but he feels comfortable around you. He’ll attempt some Tiktok dance that he saw while scrolling one day. It’s a sight to see as he’s pretty uncoordinated in the dance department. It’s endearing nonetheless.

Late at night, unable to sleep, he’ll play a soft classic song, one from the 50’s or 60’s, and ask if you’d like the dance. The entire house is dark, save for the few candles that are burning in your bedroom. The scent of lavender and the feeling of being in Bob’s arms is enough to make you feel as if you’re dreaming. He sways you side to side, spins you around, late into the night.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He can’t be with someone that’s rude. Bob is sunshine in human form. He’s kind and generous to every single person that he meets. He could never put up with someone who is rude to others. You don’t have to be the nicest person in the world, but there’s a certain line of negativity that he refuses to let be crossed. If you’re rude to waiters, workers, or anyone in general he will quickly give a spiel before saying he just couldn’t do this anymore.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He’s a sleep talker. Occasionally you’ll hear a few random words escape the mouth of the man sleeping next to you. You’ll roll over to see if he’s awake, only meeting a Bob lost in dream land. “No, that’s not the bathroom,” he would snore out. You managed to muffle your giggles as you listened to the rest of his imaginary conversation. Randomly the talking would stop, but you would make a memo of all that was said so you could ask him the next morning. Of course he found this embarrassing, and his face would light up red as a strawberry.

[rebelliousstories]

Ode To Thee

Relationship: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Wife!Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Minimal strong language

Word Count: 3,434

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun Masterlist: Here

Summary: It was a hot day in California, and the Dagger Team has met up for their monthly game of dogfight football. As everyone takes their shirts off, Bob lets the team in on a little secret.

It was hot. Really, really hot. San Diego was experiencing a heat wave at the moment, but that didn’t stop the dagger team from getting together for their monthly game of dogfight football. After the uranium mission, everyone needed some time off. Rooster repaired his relationship with Maverick, and worked it out with Hangman. Everyone got to go see family for about a week before they were called back for some training. A month after the mission, the Dagger team mutually agreed to try and meet up once a month if they could, and play dogfight football. In the hot month of August, and the last few days of summer vacation, Bob just wanted to spend time with his family.

Bob had been granted a house for his family to stay in for his leave time so he waited at the airport until they got here. Dressed in his khaki uniform and holding a bouquet of red chrysanthemums, he waited till he knew their flight had touched down. Only a few minutes later that he was able to see her head poke out from the crowd and he heard his favorite sound in the world.

“Daddy!!” His son came barreling towards him as his wife was just a few paces behind him.

“Jimmy! Please don’t run off baby!” He heard her shout as Bob reached down and scooped his son up in his arms. He placed kisses all over his son’s face while his wife caught up. Jimmy was laughing hard at his father’s affection and Bob was smiling just as hard as his son. When his wife finally caught up to the two boys, Bob set his son down at his feet and embraced his wife passionately. He placed a kiss to her lips before he pulled back to give her the bouquet.

“Oh Bobby, these are so sweet sugar! Thank you!” She said gratefully before giving him another hug. The family made their way to the luggage carousel and kept an eye out for theirs. One they had acquired the luggage, the family went to the car that Bob had bought for his time out here in San Diego. While the Dagger team teased him for getting a mini van, Bob knew he was gonna have them come out soon so he needed the extra space. His son got tucked into his seat and Bob started to drive towards the government housing on base. It was a wonderful evening for the Floyd’s as they got to reconnect after spending several months apart. They played games, laughed, chatted, and when Jimmy had finally gone to bed, Bob sat up and enjoyed time with his wife. They slipped into bed together for the first time in a while and Bob got the best sleep he had gotten in months now that he had his wife with him.

When he awoke the next morning, his body was so used to waking up at a certain time that it couldn’t be unlearned. Just before the clock struck 5:00 A.M. Bob was up and out of bed. He had his shower, made his coffee and breakfast, all while his family slept peacefully. As he stirred around the cereal in the bowl and scrolled through his phone, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. Bob leant down and pressed a kiss to the warm flesh around him and he felt her smile against his back.

“Morning dear. Did I wake you up?” He asked as she came to sit in the chair next to him and snuggle into his side, under his arm.

“No,” she mumbled, “it got cold without you there so I came t’ find ya.” She was snuggling into his neck and moved into his lap. He chuckled at her behavior this morning. Her accent also became a lot thicker while her voice was clouded with sleep. But Bob loved hearing her voice and accent in the morning.

“I wanted to let you sleep. I can’t imagine you’ve been gettin’ a whole lot of sleep watchin’ Jimmy by yourself.” His own accent was coming through from the early morning and hearing hers. She hummed into his neck while he went for another bite of his breakfast.

“Listen I’m goin’ down t’ the beach t’ play some football with the Dagger team if ya wanna join. You don’ have t’ if you don’ wanna. Or you can join later in the day. We’ll be there a while.” Bob said rubbing his hand up and down her back. He had set his phone down and pulled her back so he could look at her face. The sleep was just trace amounts in hr eyes now but she still looked gorgeous to him. She pressed herself into his shirt once again and nodded which made Bob laugh.

“Alright let’s get yo back t’ bed now darlin’. I’ve gotta leave soon but you need rest. I’ll check on Jimmy before I go.” He picked her up and carried her through the house while she clinged to him like a koala. It was so easy to fall back into his routine with her around. And very easy to slip back into his natural accent

“Hey! Baby on board!” None other than Hangman shouted as Bob came to the beach. He set the bag down under the umbrella that was set up for the team. Phoenix came over to Bob and pulled him into a hug. He returned it and soon made the rounds of saying hi to everyone. Everyone had showed up for the first time in about six months. Even Hangman, who had only gotten back from his most recent deployment a couple days ago. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from getting together with his team and playing some football. Bob placed the cooler down before starting to lather himself up with sunscreen. He saw Maverick, Rooster and Penny show up and the entire team then got together to split everyone into teams. Bob sent a quick text to his wife just in case she wanted to come and join them for a day at the beach. It also included his exact location so she would not have any doubts about where to find him.

They started at 8:00 A.M.

Eight in the morning and it already was sweltering outside. Throughout the game, Bob would check his watch for the time. Also, to check and see if she was on her way with Jimmy. Everyone noticed Bob getting distracted but none chose to bring it up. They played a few rounds on those teams, before switching them around. There was a designated snack and water break around 10:00 A.M. that everyone used to go cool off in the nearby ocean. Bob stayed in his trunks, but took his shirt off before going to cool off in the water. He couldn’t tell what was sweat or water anymore. It felt amazing to have the water rush off of him. But when Phoenix splashed Rooster in the face, it went from a quick cool down to all out war. Soon, everyone had taken sides and the teams were engaged in a water war. Maverick stood with Penny near the chairs and shade watching the team play around like children. Rooster picked Fanboy up and threw him deeper into the water. Phoenix grappled Hangman while Coyote tried to free his buddy. Payback snuck up behind Bob who was idle in the water and threw him straight at Rooster. Both men went down in the water, and Rooster dragged Bob back up to get air. They started laughing and made their way out of the water. Bob went and got his water bottle that was thankfully still ice cold thanks to his cooler. Rooster grabbed his own drink but when he turned back to look at Bob, he choked on the water going down his throat.

“The hell do you have on you Bob?!” Rooster exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of all the other pilots. Maverick looked over to the men from his chair and pulled his aviators down just enough to see clearly what was going on. By now, the rest of the team had made their way out of the water and to the shady area. Bob was still looking all around him trying to figure out what Rooster was talking about.

“I’m really confused as to what you’re talking about.” Bob continued to look at himself in complete and utter confusion. But Phoenix decided to call it out.

“You have tattoos?” She questioned, raking her eyes over Bob’s chest. It was then that he understood, finally, what everyone was so curious about. He had gotten so caught up in enjoying himself that he completely forgot about the tattoos that took up space on his chest.

“Umm… yeah… I have a couple.” He explained, rubbing the back of his head. He suddenly felt very shy around the gang and he wanted to put his shirt back on. He just had a few that the Navy had documented, but they all meant a lot to him.

“So when were you going to tell us about these, Bob?” Phoenix couldn’t keep her eyes off the colorful lines that decorated Bob’s chest.

“Uh, well, I, um,” he was put on the spot.

“Come on guys. Let him up.” Maverick said finally getting up from his chair and walking over to where the team had started surrounding Bob. He looked nervous and placed his arms down, trying to cover the colorful ink that was permanently etched into his skin.

“It’s okay Maverick. I’m good.” Bob said as Maverick finally got a glimpse of his chest.

“Listen Bob,” Rooster started, “we’re not judging you. It’s just… Out of everyone here, you’re the least likely person I would think would have tattoos.” He placed his hand on Bob’s shoulder and he finally felt the stares shift. Everyone saw how Bob started curling back into himself, and backed off. It took the man a long time to be open and confident with the group and they didn’t want to ruin that hard work. He stood up straight and allowed everyone to look at the tattoos.

“Well, they all have a personal meaning to me. I didn’t wanna get something that was just to fill space or I was gonna regret.” He explained.

“Mind telling us what they mean? If that’s not too personal.” Fanboy asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah…” he looked around and tried to decide on which one to start with.

“Well this is a red chrysanthemum,” he pointed to the tattoo right over his heart, “in Victorian flower language it means, ‘I love you,’ and that was the first flower I got for my wife on our first date.” The team looked shocked.

“I’m sorry, wife?” Hangman spoke up. The mere image that Bob had a wife was shocking to even him.

“Yeah. I’m married.” It was then that everyone, seemingly as a group noticed the second necklace behind Bob’s dog tags. It was a simple silver chain, with a golden hoop threaded through it.

“It’ll be our tenth anniversary in December.” He held a certain smile that was only for talking about loved ones. He pointed to a shaky plane tattoo next. It was on his pec, near the flower.

“That’s a drawing that my son did. Matter of fact the first one he ever did school. They asked him to draw something that meant a lot to him and he drew my F/A - 18. His mom and I were so proud of him that I decided I was gonna get it on me. His mom has an identical one on her.” Bob’s voice was soft. The Dagger team was just as shocked, if not more so, to hear he had a kid.

“Bob, you are full of surprises today.” Phoenix wrapped her left arm around his neck and pulled hm in close to her. He laughed and went with it. When she relaxed and allowed him to pull away, she noticed another drawing on his right upper arm. She looked at him with a questioning gaze and he followed her view down. He turned and showed the others.

“This is a hawthorn blossom and a cowboy hat. The hawthorn is the state tree of Mississippi and I wanted something to remind me of home that wasn’t super obvious.” Phoenix was more confused than the rest.

“Are you from Mississippi Bob? I thought you said you were from Tennessee?” She asked her WSO. Bob laughed at her questions.

“No. I’m from Mississippi. I lived in Tennessee for a while though. Special deployment. But my wife and I are both from Mississippi.” His smile plastered on his face, and a blush starting to take over.

“How come you don’t have an accent?” Payback asked bluntly.

“Oh my God Payback, you can’t just ask people why they don’t have accents.” Fanboy hit his pilot on the shoulder. The group bursted out laughing at Fanboy’s attempt of a valley girl accent. When Bob had finally recovered, he answered him.

“When I first joined the Navy, I got a lot of people who made fun of me for it. So I made myself learn how to do a neutral accent. It meant less teasing but it does come out every now and then.” By this point, half the team was sitting in the shady sand, including Bob.

“Okay,” Hangman started, “but why the cowboy hat?” It had been puzzling his mind ever since he saw the tattoo.

“Oh, I grew up on a ranch. That’s actually how I met my wife.” The look from the group practically begged for him to continue so he launched into the tale.

“Well my family was a ranching family. Cattle mostly, although we had goats, pigs, chickens. The whole nine. Well her daddy was the local supplier for different farming needs. Stuff for all different kinds of animals and crops. I was maybe fifteen years old at the time, and my pop needed somethin’ from the store so he sent me into town to get it.” As he talked more and more about his home, everyone picked up on the Mississippian accent slipping into his voice.

“When I got to the store though, the usual man wasn’t there. All I saw a pretty girl, around my age up at the counter readin’ a book on early twentieth century gangsters and mobsters. She was just so pretty to me that I completely forgot what it was that I had gone in there for. Luckily my pops wrote it down for me. But I was so shy that I couldn’t say nothin’ to her. So I got what I was there for and left.” Everyone had sat down by now, enjoying the little story time they were getting. It was nice to hear Bob talk about his home life, considering no one there knew practically anything about him other than what happened on base. The whole Dagger team was so enraptured with the story, that none of them noticed a woman and her son slowly approaching the group.

“I went to school the next Monday kickin’ myself for not talkin’ to her but figured that there was nothing I could do about it now. Until I was walkin’ down the hallway and to my first class when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Keep in mind, this is southern Mississippi so I always wore my cowboy hat everywhere and school was no exception. So when I turned around, I did it too fast and my hat hit the person behind me. To my horror, it was the pretty girl from the store. I was mortified but she just laughed it off an asked me for my name. She gave me hers an asked me to walk her to her first period which was the class across from mine. We ended up sittin’ together at lunch and she asked if I wanted to go see a movie in town together. I replied stupidly, ‘are we doin’ a friend date or a date date?’ And she said it was an actual date. So I picked her up that Friday night and brought her a red chrysanthemum. And we’ve dated ever since.” He finished his tale and everyone was speechless. Bob was nervous as to their reactions and felt like he had talked to much and now everyone was bored. Btu he felt a hand on his left shoulder and looked over at Maverick.

“That’s really sweet Bob. Thanks for telling us.” He spoke so sincerely and Bob smiled. It felt good to talk about home even when he was so far away. But home was never far away when he heard the familiar sound of, “daddy!”

Jimmy was barreling towards the group and Bob got up to meet him. He scooped his son up in his arms before he saw his wife coming straight for the pair. The Dagger team watched as the family interacted with each other. When his wife finally caught up to the boys she let out a sigh.

“I really wish he wouldn’t do that.” But her smile betrayed her exasperated tone. Bob smiled and switched his son to his left arm and pulled his wife in with the right one. He placed a kiss to her lips and pulled away. She was in a gorgeous two piece bathing suit that fit her body like a glove. The lace cover up she wore looked gorgeous against her skin. Her usual cowboy hat was on, as well as the pair of aviators she stole from Bob.

“He’s just excited to see daddy. I though y’all weren’t gonna come.” He started steering the family back towards the Dagger team that waited to meet the family with baited breath.

“Bobby, it’s only 10:00 A.M. The day is still young. But when Jimmy asked where daddy was, of course he wanted to go where you were.” They finally made their way to the team and Jimmy tucked himself further into Bob’s neck at the sight of all the other adults. His wife stood nearby, not really knowing who all these people were.

“Guys, this is my wife,” she waved and said hello to the team, “and this is my son Jimmy. Say hi Jimmy. This is daddy’s team that he tells you ‘bout.” The young boy pulled his face out of Bob’s neck and looked around at the people in front of him. While he couldn’t put names to faces on most of them, there was one he absolutely knew.

“Aunty Tasha!!” He exclaimed loudly, his hands reaching for the woman. Phoenix was taken aback by the sudden declaration. She looked at Bob curiously.

“I’ve shown him pictures of everybody. He can’t remember most of ‘em but he always remembers Aunt Tasha.” The woman was almost in tears. Bob set Jimmy down and he ran to Phoenix, who picked him up. Jimmy looked at her face and very plainly said, “hi.”

A round of introductions was made with Jimmy finally meeting all of his uncles and aunt. It seemed meeting them in person made him remember the names better. Everyone was excited to talk with Bob’s wife as they enjoyed their beach day. Rooster and Hangman would toss Jimmy around in the ocean causing the boy to laugh loudly. Fanboy and Payback were building sandcastles with him. Coyote played ball with him when the others weren’t playing football. Maverick and Penny sat down in the shade and told Jimmy stories about Bob when he was flying. Phoenix was almost always nearby joining everyone in their activities. Bob and his wife sat down in the shade and watched their son have the time of his life with his new extended family.

“We did good Bobby.” She said, leaning her head back onto his shoulder.

“Yeah we did.” He agreed putting his head in the crook of her neck.

“Whatcha say to another little Floyd runnin’ ‘round?” She pursed her lips as she waited for Bob’s reaction. He lifted his head as fast as possible off her shoulder and looked at his wife. He stared at her, with excitement and curiosity in his eyes as his hands moved down to her belly. She nodded and that was all he needed to place a passionate kiss to her lips.

"I say that I'm gonna need to plan where to put their first drawing on me."

[silens-oro]

Comfort

Rhett Abbott x f!Reader 

Synopsis: After a rough night, Rhett needs a little TLC. And maybe a chiropractor.

Warnings: Injuries (bruising), fluff.

AN: This is softer than butter and not edited. I’d rather be thrown into the hole than edit rn. Enjoy!

“I can hear your brain rattlin’, Sweetheart,” Rhett’s sleep-muddled voice rasped out. Half of his face was pushed into his pillow, his soft lashes were settled along the top of his cheek as he drifted in and out of sleep.

You brought a hand up to lightly push his ever growing hair out of his face. Curling the ends around your fingers, you noted that he was due for a trim soon.

Rhett groaned when your nails ran along his scalp, your fingers carded through his hair affectionately. As you brought your hand back down, he nuzzled the visible side of his face into your hand, the stubble tickling the palm was comforting.

“How’re you feelin’, cowboy?” You asked. You already knew the answer based on the way he barely moved from his position on his stomach throughout the night. Rhett had a particularly rough ride the previous night with a particularly surly bull who was just not having it. The bull -named Sassafras Bill- bucked Rhett off after five seconds on his final ride, sending the man flying high into the air. He landed flat on his back with a dense thud, a mushroom cloud of dust shooting into the air on his impact. It knocked the bejesus out of him.

Your heart stutters as you remember the panic that flooded your entire being when Rhett didn’t immediately get back up. The silence of the crowd was deafening. Cici had your hand in hers instantly, holding you tightly as she whispered a prayer.

“Back’s hurtin’,” Rhett’s voice knocked you out of your memory. He grumbled into the pillow as he dropped his head back down. You pulled the comforter off of your body and scooted yourself to the edge of the bed.

“Come on,” You patted the spot in the middle of the bed where you previously occupied, motioning for Rhett to move over. Rhett finally opened his beautiful eyes. Just one look into them and you knew he was hurting far worse than he was letting on.  He squinted over at you, a soft smile growing as he watched you.

“You don’t have to, Sweetheart,” Always bashful, a blush began to creep up his neck and to his cheeks.

“Come on,” You goaded once more, patting the spot. “I’ll even use that lotion you like so much,” You leaned over to your bedside table and pulled the small bottle out of the drawer. The stuff cost an arm and a leg, so you had used it sparingly, but when it came to the man in the bed it didn’t matter. You’d use the whole damn bottle if he needed it. “I’m not askin’,” You hadn’t left anymore room for argument, and Rhett knew he wasn’t getting out of this -not that he would ever turn down a back rub. Especially now.

“If you insist,” He grumbled and held his breath as he shifted himself to the middle of the bed. When he settled, he let out a pained puff of air and all but collapsed back onto his front, whole face dug into the pillow this time around.

Before you could stop it, a gasp escaped your mouth when you pulled the sheet down his back to reveal his bare skin. His usual lightly sun-kissed back was mottled with bruises that ranged from yellow, to green, blue, then deepening into an angry, deep maroon where the majority of his weight had impacted the ground.

“It looks worse than it feels, babydoll. I promise,” Rhett wheezed out, shifting under your gaze.

“Doubtful,” You muttered as you carefully straddled his rear, careful not to add too much weight onto his already aching back. Pumping a few dollops of the lotion onto your palm, you rubbed them together to warm it up before starting to rub down Rhett’s back. He sucked in a tight breath when your hands made their initial contact, but his tense body started to melt into the mattress after a few moments.

The “Jesus fucking Christ” and “oh fuck” expletives that Rhett was wheezing out as you gently worked the tightness out of the muscles in his shoulders would’ve started a fire in your lower belly under normal circumstances, but now was definitely not the time.

“That’s it, baby. Right there,” The guttural grunt Rhett let slip out nearly swept you clean off of the bed. It flipped a switch in your brain almost immediately -try as you might for the contrary.

“Behave yourself, cowboy. No funny business,” You scolded playfully, continuing with your movements down the bruised plains of his back.

“You have no idea how good this feels,” Rhett was nearly drooling into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.

“I can only imagine,” You mumbled, letting the natural silence take over.

Rhett was nearly asleep again when you spoke, dragging him back to the present.

“You know how scared I was?” You were leaned over him with an arm holding your weight up. You rubbed the back of his neck with your free hand and whispered in his ear, careful not to disturb the peaceful ambiance that hung in the bedroom.

Kissing the back of his ear tenderly, you continued, “When you didn’t get up, it felt like the Earth was crumbling beneath my feet,” Your hand moved from his neck, across his shoulder, and down his arm until your fingers hooked with Rhett’s. The rough skin of his hand from a lifetime of working on the ranch was a comfort, a reassurance that he was here with you and not intubated in the closest ICU with the worst injuries your brain could conjure up. Rhett’s hand tightened its hold on yours to let you know he was listening.

“I’m sorry,” Rhett turned his head to look up at you and brought your hand up kiss your knuckles gingerly. “Never want you to feel like that ‘cause of me,” He mumbled into the top of your hand.

“I’ll always be worried about you -especially when you're out there- but this time felt different, Rhett,” You let go of his hand and carefully ended the straddle, landing on the mattress to his left side. A groan left him as he brought a hand up to cradle your cheek. “You’ve gotten hurt before, and I know it comes with the territory, but this was a lot -even for you,”

“I’ll just not fly fifteen feet in the air the next time I get bucked. I can’t believe didn’t think to not do that last night,” Rhett responded with a deadpanned look. “Had I known that, I simply wouldn’t have done it,” The sarcasm was dripping from every word, and if he wasn’t already injured to high Heaven, you would’ve given him a smack for getting smart with you.

“I’d appreciate that in the future,” You said with a roll of your eyes. A smile was threatening to tug on your lips as you tapped your index finger against the tip of Rhett’s nose. He went cross-eyed for a second before a tender look crossed his features. “You’re lucky I love you, mister,”

“Sure am,” Rhett responded instinctually, catching your retreating hand and kissing the back of it once more before holding it to his chest. He was staring up at you earnestly, his eyes taking on the hues of the early sunrise coming in from the window. “I thank whoever’s listening every day that I wake up and you’re next to me,” He confessed, all signs of playfulness gone. “Regardless of the stupid shit I do, you’re always there. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do love you with everything I’ve got.” Rhett wasn’t a huge talker, but when he needed to say something, boy did he say it with his whole chest.

“Come ‘ere,” Rhett held his arm up to allow you to roll yourself into his chest. His arm tightened around you, holding you as close to him as possible. Rhett’s lips pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head, prolonging the action as a comfort to the both of you. The soothing heat that radiated off of his body was just what you needed to lull back to sleep.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Congratulations lovely! 🎉🎉 How about sunflowers and Bob?

Xo,

T

Another sunflowers request 🫣 Y'all don't make it easy hehe Hope you like this one! And thanks for playing 😘

3k Celebration Mini Drabbles

You open the door to find Bob standing on your porch with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand. It’s raining and he’s drenched from head to foot, his hair dripping water into his eyes.

“Bob, what the fuck?” you shriek, pulling him inside.

“Will you go out with me?” he blurts out as you run to get a towel.

You spin on the spot and walk back toward him with a bewildered expression. “Come again?”

Bob glances back at the door. “Like, right now?” He reaches for the doorknob.

“No! I meant, what did you say?”

“Oh!” Bob nods. “Sorry, I’m nervous,” he says, taking his glasses off and holding them up to the light to examine the giant splotches of rainwater obscuring the lenses. “Also, I can’t see anything.” He tucks the glasses into his pocket and blinks up at you timidly and with a slight squint.

“Bob,” you say, watching him warily. “Did you just ask me out?”

He grimaces uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he says, his tone somewhat apologetic. “I kept meaning to do it and never did and then this morning, I said ‘enough is enough’ and I should just” – he makes a gesture with his hand to indicate a forward motion – “I should just do it already. And if you say no, then you say no. And then I could just stop thinking about it. Not that I think I could stop thinking about you.” He watches your reaction cautiously but, when you don’t respond, he continues speaking. “And I’ve noticed that you wear a lot of yellow and I saw, one time, you had this sunflower print dress on, so I figured you probably don’t hate them.” He shrugs and holds the flowers out for you to take. “I picked them up this morning and then it started to rain but, if I didn’t do this today, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to. So, I just said, ‘fuck it, I’m going.’ So” – he exhales sharply – “here I am.”

Tentatively, you take the soaking bouquet out of his shaky hand.

“Just so you know,” he says sheepishly. “Your response will determine my outlook on sunflowers for probably the rest of my life. If that, at all, influences your decision.”

3k celebration

[averagewriter-inthedark]

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

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

read part 1 here

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Qualifications were done. The finals were up.

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

And that’s exactly what she had planned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And they didn’t disappoint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two-time Olympic champion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the start of their love story.

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

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

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

Bob was her dream person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was dating Y/n L/n.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n was going to Tokyo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And if fucking paid off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Women’s Artistic Gymnastics All-Around Final

Rotation One: Vault

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

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

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

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

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

Rotation Two: Uneven Bars

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

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

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

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

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

Rotation Three: Balance Beam

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rotation Four: Floor Exercise

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

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

It was a long wait.

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

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

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

Suni Lee at #1 with an overall total of 57.433

Rebeca Andrade at #2 with an overall total of 57.298

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making the junior national team at 14.

Making the senior international team at 15.

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

Making the London Olympic team at 16. Being part of the gold medal winning team. Becoming the Olympic Champion of the bars and beam.

Becoming World Champion of the beam at 17. Claiming the World All-Around silver at 18 & 19. Becoming World Champion of the vault and having the triple twisting Yurchenko named after her at 19.

Making the Rio de Janeiro team at 20. Meeting the man who would become her husband at the trials.

Winning the team gold for a second consecutive time. Making history as the first American woman to win back-to-back individual gold on the bars and beam.

Reclaiming the World beam gold at 21 and the World All-Around Silver at 21 & 23. Becoming a seven-time World champion of the uneven bars at 23.

Came close to retiring after a near career-ending injury at 23. Made a comeback at 25 and qualified for her third consecutive Olympic Games.

Reuniting with Bob at 21. Falling in love with him at 22. Marrying him at 24 to become his life partner.

Qualifying for the All-Around final in her last Olympic Games.

Y/n L/n would go down in history regardless of the outcome of this floor routine. So what better way than to finish the last All-Around competition of her life by having fun. Even if she didn’t make the podium, it would be okay.

She did the impossible when not many thought she could.

When the music ended and Y/n exhaled, she felt the lone tear slip from her eye. The sight in front her was every athlete, coach, and spectator on their feet clapping for her. Even some of the floor judges gave nods of respect when she saluted, in the distance the judges from the beam clapped with soft smiles. And when Y/n looked to the floor below, she spotted some of her competitors, including Suni, wiping away tears.

“And so Y/n L/n takes her final bow on the floor. The last time we will ever see her in an All-Around competition—what a beautiful way to go out. It’s hard to say if it will be enough for the gold. But regardless, the 25-year-old from Lemoore, California has embedded her legacy in Tokyo as one of the greatest gymnasts in the history of the sport.”

Coming down from the mat, Y/n waved to the small group of spectators including Team USA who were still whistling and cheering before she was met with the open embrace of her coach since childhood, Mike Taylor. His eyes were rimmed, indicating he’d been crying causing Y/n’s lip to quiver. “That was the most beautiful floor routine you’ve ever done, my little powerhouse. Beautiful.” Suni came over, Y/n immediately going to hug her as they waited for the score to come. The veteran gymnast told Suni how proud she was of her, letting her know it was an honor to compete alongside and against her. They’d known each other since Suni’s debut on the national team, and Y/n had immense respect for her as an athlete.

Several other gymnasts and their coaches came over to offer kind words. Many of them had been watching Y/n on the international level since 2011 before they had come onto the stage.

It was a bittersweet scene. Not only in the Tokyo dome, but also in Lemoore. There was not a dry eye in sight when Y/n landed her final tumbling pass. Several people, including Nat, Daisy, Y/n’s parents and former teammates and Bob were pretty much sobbing. There was a camera crew from NBC there to capture their reactions—no doubt going to have it shown on live tv when the competition ended.

No one could predict what would happen next.

The camera had paned to Y/n and Suni talking after several of the other competitors had exchanged words with the gymnast. A moment later a woman, one of the floor judges, was rushing up to them.

“Turn it up!” Payback yelled and the person closest to the TV increased the volume. They all watched as the woman pulled the two athletes and their coaches away from the group, cameraman getting close to hear the details.

“It appears one floor judges has some news for both Americans, let’s listen in to see what’s happening,” the commentator's voice was just as confused.

“We wanted to let you both know before the score goes up,” she spoke with an accent, likely Greek or Italian they weren’t exactly sure. “But the score for Mrs. L/n-Floyd looks to be a flat 13.000.” Bob snapped his gaze to the notebook, where the number 13.000 would result in a tie.

Y/n’s expression indicated she realized it too. A shaky hand came up to her chin, eyes in disbelief though she was beginning to grin, “Are you saying we get to share the gold?” Suni’s hands clapped her mouth as she gasped, flicking her attention to Y/n and the judge. Behind them their coaches looked so stressed they were about to become bald.

“Oh my god,” Bob lifted from his chair the same time the commentator said, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We could be looking at history right here.”

The judge gave a slight nod, saying, “If you two have no problem with it—,” both gymnasts were nodding, tears in their eyes threatening to escape. “We want to remain fair as you know.”

“Of course,” Y/n looked at Suni, who mirrored her expression. “History, Suni. We’re Olympic Champions.” The gymnast catapulted in Y/n’s arms the two screaming in delight while their coaches did the same next to them. The judge smiled at the scene, moving to relay the news to the rest as Suni and Y/n sunk to the ground.

The entire gym in Lemoore exploded as the title card appeared on the screen the same time it did on the leaderboard: #1 LEE, Sunisa & L/N-FLOYD, Y/n (USA) TOTAL OVERALL: 57.433

Bob collapsed to the ground, Nat coming over to place her hands on his back in a comforting way while she too was a mess. Maverick came over to the two, patting Bob’s shoulder as he brought Nat into a hug. The commentator's voice could barely be heard with the noise happening in the gym. “I CANNOT BELIEVE IT OH MY GOD—BOTH AMERICANS HAVE TAKEN THE GOLD—FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE HISTORY OF THIS EVENT, THERE HAS BEEN A TIE FOR GOLD IN THE WOMEN’S ALL-AROUND FINAL. SUNI LEE AND Y/N L/N SHARE THE TOP OF THE LEADERBOARD WITH AN OVERALL SCORE OF 57.433. IT IS OLYMPIC HISTORY FOR TEAM USA!!! Y/N L/N IS THE OLYMPIC CHAMPION IN HER FINAL OLYMPIC APPEARANCE! SUNI LEE IN HER OLYMPIC DEBUT IS COMING HOME WITH ALL-AROUND GOLD!”

“OH MY GOD!!” Daisy screamed, jumping up and down with several of the local gymnasts. “She did it! Y/n did it!” The teenager pushed through to embrace her brother, who was still an emotional mess on the floor. Next to the dagger squad Bob and Y/n’s parents were all embraced with coach Mary, mirroring the expression of everyone else. It was a surreal moment as the camera showed Suni and Y/n raising their interlaced hands in the air.

Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around.

Y/n’s seventh Olympic gold medal.

Before the podium ceremony the live NBC coverage released the reaction of Bob and the gym—which already started to go viral on Twitter, TikTok, and instagram on the NBCOlympics accounts. Bob had fell to his knees, hiding his face, so he missed out on Coyote tripping into Fanboy as they celebrated and fell to the ground. In the corner one could see Y/n’s dad run to the balance beam like he was on ‘The Price is Right,’ before sweeping Y/n’s mom off her feet.

At the podium ceremony, Y/n and Suni held hands, stepping on the platform together with their hands raised as the announcer spoke to the world, “Gold medalists and Olympic Champions, from the United States of America, Y/n L/n-Floyd and Sunisa Lee!” Members of Team USA who showed up to watch the competition were going crazy, the gymnasts in a heap of tears.

When the gold medals were presented to them, Y/n and Suni medaled each other. Y/n took the first gold, placing it around her friend and teammate before Suni did the same to her with the second gold. “Wow what a sight, folks. Truly beautiful to see two people who are not only teammates and competitors, but also friends crown each other as the Olympic Champion of the All-Around. I don’t think we’ll ever see something like this again in an Olympic Games. This is truly history we are witnessing.” The two hugged, muttering congratulations into each other’s ears and beaming beneath the mask when they pulled away to face the flags.

The tears flowed freely for Y/n, the weight of the medal and the sound of the National anthem a reminder that she wasn’t dreaming. She was standing on top of the podium. The gold medalist of the Olympic All-Around.

A dream nearly 20 years in the making since she first watched the Games in Athens at age 8.

In the post-ceremony interview, Y/n was emotional again when the NBC correspondent for the All-Around final showed her the reaction of her loved ones at home. When Bob fell to his knees she had to cover her mouth. “I wish they were here,” she choked, “Ugh it sucks not having them but I love that they were able to watch from home. They are the reason I’m standing here and get to call myself an Olympic champion. It’s their support that’s fueled me the last couple years.”

The reporter gave a sympathetic look, “We actually have a team there with them right now. We’re patching them through right now.”

“Oh my God, really?” Y/n gasped before sobbing when the image on the screen appeared to show her friends and family. They all hollered and cheered, waving frantically at the camera. The gymnast sobbed, waving to the camera, “Oh my God! Mom, dad—Oh Bobby!”

“Oh honey,” he sniffed, the camera focusing on him. “I’m so so proud of you. We’re the moon here—you were so incredible, Y/n. I just can’t put into words how happy I am for you. I love you so much, baby—I can’t say that enough.”

“I love you too! I miss you so much, Bobby. Thank you for being rock and helping everyday in and out of the gym. This gold medal is for you.”

Her parents move to the front. “Sweetheart, your mom and I—I don’t think she can really talk right now,” Y/n laughed at her dad, seeing her mom was still a mess. “We just want to say that we love you so much. You’ve inspired us since you were a little girl and it’s an honor to be your parents.” He had to pause, getting worked up, “We’re so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I know that you’ve got plans after this and just know we’re going to support you every step of the way.”

Y/n said words of thanks and love to her parents before thanking everyone who showed up to support her. After the call ended the reporter had one last question, “Y/n, you have one last event coming up, the uneven bars final. You’re no doubt the favorite to win—people want to see you make history one last time by becoming the first gymnast from any nation ever to win the title three times in a row. Now you said back in 2016 that whether or not you made this team you’d be retiring. That floor performance tonight definitely felt like a farewell to the sport.” Y/n was slowly nodding with each word, confirming the suspicion. The reporter finally asks, “Once you’ve taken your final step onto the mat Sunday night, will that be the last we see of Y/n L/n in the women’s gymnastics?”

Letting out a shaky breath, feeling the emotion swirl in her chest, Y/n replies, “I am fortunate to say that I have been a part of team USA since I debuted at 15 for my first World’s. Ten years with seven World championships and three Olympic Games—each time coming home with a title, not a lot of people can say that. It’s been an extreme honor……..I crap I knew this was going to be hard,” her vision blurs, “Two years ago I was on the verge of retirement and then got my second chance. I will forever be grateful that I got it and achieved this goal I set out to do after London. It’s been a hard decision, but it’s the right decision so to answer your question, yes Sunday night will be my last routine in gymnastics. I love this sport, I love what it has given me. I have so much love and appreciation for those who have supported me this past decade including my coaches, friends, family, and former teammates. It’s hard to say goodbye, but all great things must come to an end. And I hope to end on a golden note Sunday night, but if that doesn’t happen I’m okay with that. I’m just truly happy—t-that's the best way to put it all into one word. Happy.”

The last gymnast to step on the mat in the uneven bars final, Y/n saluted the judge, did her ritual one final time, and let the bars take her high in the sky. Just like on floor, it wasn’t about the medal. It wasn’t about being the greatest bars gymnast to ever exist.

It was about having fun. It was about that little girl who tumbled on the mat and swung on the bars with a smile on her face. Remembering the love that grew from every minute she was in class and how it made her feel free.

Once again tears coated Y/n’s eyes when she landed the dismount, saluting the judge one last time to the roar of applause of those around her. Mike fell to his knees, Y/n glancing up to the ceiling muttering, ‘Thank you,’ to whoever stood above.

Deep down, she knew.

The night the NBC live coverage reported, “It was a golden farewell for Y/n L/n-Floyd of the United States. The Queen of the Uneven Bars received a groundbreaking score of 17.045 in tonight’s women’s uneven bars final, making her the first gymnast in history from any nation to win the gold medal in its individual event final three consecutive Olympics—L/n-Floyd adding a third medal to her Tokyo collection, her second gold after making history Thursday night with other American gymnast Suni Lee by becoming co-Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around. Tonight marked Y/n’s eighth Olympic gold medal, her ninth total—she now holds the record of most gold medals won by an American gymnast in the Olympics, as well as the title of most decorated Olympic gymnast in the history of Team USA—overtaking that of Shannon Miller’s seven total medals. The captain of this Tokyo team, Y/n L/n-Floyd has announced her retirement from gymnastics following these Olympic Games. It truly is a sad day for the sport to say goodbye to one of the greatest athletes it’s ever produced, but fear not, tonight was not the last we will see of Y/n in Tokyo. She’s been selected by the members of Team USA to hold the American flag in next Sunday’s closing ceremonies, and if my sources are correct there’s already talk of Y/n being a future inductee of the Olympic Hall of Fame. Until then, on behalf of America and those of us in the studio we’d like to congratulate Y/n L/n-Floyd on an magnificent career, representing Team USA for more than a decade in several international stages, and wish her luck on her future endeavors. Thank you.” As the camera panned away from the broadcaster, the Olympic Fanfare & Theme by John Williams sounded while footage highlights of Y/n’s Olympic career played before the viewers. London. Rio. Tokyo.

Bob met her at the airport, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in circles to the joy of her laughter. When he sat her down he held her in his arms for several minutes pressing little kisses all over her face, “I am so so proud of you. I love you so so much,” he said between each kiss.

“I love you too,” she kissed him back before taking her ring from around his neck. Bob grabbed it from her, securing it on her finger before gently kissing the knuckle beneath it. “So I was thinking,” her arms went around his neck, running her fingers along the hair at the nape. “Even though my journey as an athlete has ended……maybe it could be the start of someone else’s?”

Bob looked confused at first, but then slowly his eyes widened, “Are…are you saying you want to…have a baby?” Y/n nodded, eyes glossy as she replied, “if that’s something you’d want. You’re the best husband a girl could ask for, and I know you’d be an amazing father, Bobby.”

Instead of answering, Bob kissed her, pouring every ounce of love from his soul into it. “Yes,” he broke the kiss only to give her another. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I would love nothing more than to raise children with you, Y/n. Let’s do it.” A squeal left her as he dragged her to the car on a mission. “Let’s start as soon as we get home.”

Y/n’s life was one that could be written in the history books. And though she no longer stepped on the mat as a competitor, a new chapter had opened after Tokyo. One with her legacy continuing many years after her debut.

Stepping on the mat as both coach and mother to her not only her sister-in law who strived to be like her idol, but her own little girl who loved to fly high on the bars.

………………………..

Tag list (& those who commented on P.1): @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[yespolkadotkitty]

Milk & two sugars

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x pregnant!female!reader ~ Words: drabble ~ Content: lactation kink, p in v sex

-----

It's becoming a thing.

Since your milk came in you're swollen in the mornings. Massages help, but last week you'd noticed your husband eyeing your breasts and you'd had an idea. Something your friend Antonia told you shortly after you found out you were expecting.

So when Bob comes back into the bedroom with two decaf coffees on a tray, you say, "Would you ever want to... you know. Help me out by drinking some of this milk?"

His blue eyes go big behind his glasses and he almost bobbles the tray before setting it down on the dressing table opposite your bed.

"Really?" he asks, softly. His gaze has gone dark and hungry, and there's definitely something happening in his loose PJ pants.

"Really."

He's on the bed in a heartbeat, cosying up to you. You take off his glasses and fold them, setting them on the bedside table, and he gently tugs down the stretchy neck of your sleep camisole. You wiggle a little for the straps to slide down your shoulders, and your nipples tighten both with anticipation and at the feel of the cooler air outside your clothes.

Bob presses his lower body against your legs and if what you can feel is any indication, he's into it.

"I saw you looking," you say almost shyly.

"Honey, I'm always looking. But especially now." He presses a reverent kiss to one of your nipples and you unconsciously push back against his face.

"Please. It's painful."

He groans deep in his throat and covers one of your nipples with his mouth eagerly. His eyes drift closed and you admire his long lashes as his tongue works. It's only seconds before you feel the release of your milk, and you hear your husband's surprised, happy sound as he tastes it.

"Wow," he mumbles, but doesn't stop. Oxytocin floods you at his ministrations, and you tug on his hair when you want him to switch to the other side. It's bliss. Your hormones sit up and beg when he starts to grind against your thigh, and you tug at his clothes.

He briefly unlatches to undress, clumsily, and you pull down your underwear.

"On top," he murmurs. "Please."

He stretches out and you clamber on. This is the best position with your stomach in the way, and Bob mumbles a string of incoherent praise when your breasts brush his face, and then he's on you again, and you slide down on his erection and it's the best way to wake up.

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Five - The Hard Deck

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

2.6K

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner), talks of non consensual groping

Series Masterlist

"Are you guys going to The Hard Deck tonight?"

Bob turned at the voice behind him. He'd scanned the room for her when he first walked into the café, but she wasn't there. 

He couldn't hide the surprise on his face as he turned around. There she was, in a black pencil skirt and a navy blue blouse. She wasn't in her usual sweater and Bob couldn't help but miss it. "You wanna come with?" He offered. 

Her smile was tight, barely a smile at all as she looked at him. She wasn't going to ask this soon, was gonna wait until she needed an escape. 

But the need for an escape came sooner than she expected. "I'd like that," she said, adjusting her grip on her bag. "What time should I meet you there?"

"Seven, at the earliest," Bob answered as he payed for his coffee and took it from Mariana. 

Her smile grew. "I'll be there at seven thirty." She ordered her drink, silently waiting for it. As desperate as Bob was for conversation, she didn't initiate it, staying quiet as Mariana passed her the hazelnut oat latte and rushing off. 

Not staying for her work break, like Bob was used to seeing. He followed her out of the café and climbed into the truck, watching from his mirrors as she walked down the street. 

He headed back to Top Gun, three coffees on the seat beside him and reader to force Natasha and Jake out to the Hard Deck. 

But he couldn't help but wonder, why not stay in the café for lunch? Why break her usual pattern of behaviour? Bob had been on the coffee runs for the two previous days, and each time she was there for her lunch break, sitting as she wrote. Each time Bob spent at least five minutes with her before he had to get back to Top Gun. 

Bob didn't know that she didn't get a lunch break that day, not when she had been over half an hour late for work. She didn't mean to be over half an hour late, but Ken had woken up in a mood and using makeup to cover up bruises took time. 

There was only so much her long sleeves could hide, and she couldn't wear a scarf all day. 

It was the first time Ken had utterly lost control like that, the first time she was forced to use makeup to cover a bruise. She had do doubt that she hadn’t done a good job this first time around, that some of the bruising around her neck was still visible. Just as long as it didn't raise suspicion. 

It was the slowest work day of her life. Yet, the end of the work day came much sooner than she would have liked. She packed up everything slowly and was the last one out of the office. Her walk down the street to her apartment was slow, her feet refusing to take her any faster. 

She pushed her way into the apartment. The moment she opened the door to the apartment, the smell hit her. Cheap beer, cigarette smoke and piss. Fuck, it was poker night. 

Several voices filled the room at once. "Hey Barbie," said several of Ken's friends. She looked towards the table full of Ken's friends and offered a weak smile. A shiver ran through her body when one of them whistled. 

She walked past the poker game, walking straight into the bedroom. Ken had left the door open, and the smell of smoke had ruined her sheets. She let out a breath as she shut the door and dropped her bag onto her bed. 

It wasn't the first time that Ken had hosted poker night and not warned her. Actually, it was a regular occurrence. She sat on her bed and pulled off her shoes. Even with the door shut, she could hear their shouts and their laughter. It only served as further motivation to get to The Hard Deck. 

As she unzipped her skirt, her bedroom door flew open. She let out a small gasp, keeping her skirt tightly held to her body. "Ken, what the hell?" She cried as he stared at her. The way he was staring at her, like he was a starving wolf. 

"You should come and say hello to everyone, Barbie," he said as he pushed the door shut. He strode over to her drawers and dug through them, pulling out a too short, baby blue and white skirt. He threw it onto the bed and pulled out a tank top. 

'Come and say hello' wasn’t literal when it came to Ken's friends. It was an excuse for them to cop a feel and eye her up. "I'm not doing this," she said and threw the skirt towards him. 

"Barbie-" 

"No!" She insisted as she grabbed her favourite pair of jeans. "I'll go and get you some more beer but I don't want the guys touching me, okay?"

Ken let out something of a laugh. She'd put her foot down with him only once before and he had pushed her against the counter top and threatened worse. She hadn't dared since. But, if he was getting beer out of it, he'd let her get away with it. "C'mere," he said as he strode over to the door. 

She tried not to come across as reluctant as she walked over to him. His touch was gentle as he stroked her cheek and pressed his lips against her own, his tongue down her throat. 

He left her to it and she quickly got dressed. She pulled on her jeans and the tank top that Ken had thrown her (Ken was an asshole, sure, but the tank top was cute). She pulled on her jacket, grabbed her keys and headed out. 

She couldn't stop herself from shivering as she walked to The Hard Deck. The sun was setting as she made her way. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. But, as The Hard Deck came into view, she realised it was too late to turn back.

She sucked in a breath, steadying her nerves, and walked in. 

***

"Come on, Bob," Jake Seresin muttered as he chalked yo the pool cue. "When if your little friend getting here?"

Bob surveyed the faces of everyone that walked into The Hard Deck. His eyes moved across everyone, but none of them were her. "She'll be here," he said as Natasha went to get another beer. "I know it."

Maybe five minutes later she walked into The Hard Deck. For a moment she stood by the door, trying to look for Bob. Sweet Bob. Bob who would never ask for her to let his friends have a grope fest. She pulled her jacket tighter and walked further in. 

Bob spotted her before she spotted him. "Hey!" He called as he walked around people trying desperately to get to her. Hey eyes lit up when she saw him, and Bob moved somebody he recognised from the class he caught at Top Gun out of his way. "You made it."

"I made it," she responded, releasing a breath. Her eyes moved to the Styrofoam cup in his hands. "What're you drinking?"

"Just water," he replied and finished what was in his cup. "Let's get you a drink."

Bob didn't expect her to grab his hand. But she did. As he led her over to the bar she kept a hold of her hand. "Penny!" He called over the noise. As soon as she recognised him, the woman behind the bar brought over another cup full of water. "What would you like?"

She told Bob her order and he put it on his tab. With their drinks in the hands, Bob led her over to the pool table, over to the pool table. There were eyes on her as Bob brought her to two of his fellow aviators. Well, everybody in this bar looked like an aviator. 

"These are my friends," Bob said as he gestured to the two playing pool. "Natasha and Jake." 

She gave them a wave and introduced herself as she sat in the stool that Bob had been occupying. Not that she knew. Bob didn't say anything, either. He just wore a blushy smile as he watched her shake Natasha's hand. 

But then it was Jakes turn. He held the pool cue as he sauntered up to her, that usual flirty smile on his face. "Hey there," he said, grin almost sly. "I'm Jake."

She took a moment to sip a drink, took a moment to answer him. But the she placed her drink on the table behind her (Bob was sure to keep an eye on it) and turned her attention to Jake. 

"We've met," she said , trying to paint a flirty smile that matched Jakes onto her face. "Good to see you again, Hangman." She held her hand towards him. "Try not to get me kicked out this time."

Jake laughed as he shook her hand. "Very sorry about that, miss. But you're here with Baby On Board, now. You're not going to get kicked out."

Bob's smile dropped from his face at that. His fists were clenched at his sides as Jake laughed. She turned to him, her eyebrows furrowed. "Baby On Board?" She asked and picked up her drink. 

"It's not Baby On Board," he muttered beneath his breath. 

The way Jake was looking at him, it was like they were back in Top Gun together. "What is it then, Baby On Board?" He challenged as he stepped towards him. 

Bob wasn't a fighter. Natasha knew it, Jake knew it, and she knew it. He picked up his water from beside her own drink and finished it one. Bob wasn't going to challenge, but he wasn't going to let his head fall in defeat. 

Suddenly she was on her feet, getting between herself and Jake. "If he says it's not Baby On Board, then it's not Baby On Board," she said, levelling him with a glare. 

Holding his hands up, Jake backed off. Things fell normal for a little while. She spoke to Natasha and Jake as she drank (Bob happily got her another drink when she ran out), the three of them learning about each other. 

When Natasha beat Jake, she gave her pool cue to Bob while Jake offered his to hers. But she shook her head and Jake went to play again (but Natasha took it off of him to play against Bob instead). 

"So," Jake began as she began her third drink. "Baby Bob tells us you've got a boyfriend."

"Don't call him that, dude," she said as she held her beer between her fingers. 

Jake raised his eyebrows at her. "Don't call him your boyfriend or don't call him Baby Bob?"

She glared. 

"Anyway, Bob said you've got a boyfriend."

By the time she replied to him, she had nearly finished her drink. "So what?"  She spat. She was trying to be nice, but any mention of Ken immediately changed her mood. 

"So, if you've got a boyfriend, What're you doing here with him?" 

Jake was an asshole. That much was clear to her. "Excuse me," she said and hopped off of the stool. 

Bob watched, completely missing his turn as she walked out of The Hard Deck. He thrust the pool cue into Jakes arms and ran after her. "Wait!" He called, moving around people to get to her. "Wait!" 

When Bob made it outside, he found her sitting on the sand. In the doorway, Bob watched her for only a moment. There was a slight breeze, but she had left her jacket inside. But she stayed sitting there, keeping her arms wrapped around herself. 

Slowly, Bob approached. 

"Hey," he called and she ever so slightly turned her head towards him. Bob sat on the sand beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "Are you okay?”

She sniffed and nodded her head. "You told Hangman about my boyfriend."

He breathed in and nodded. There were several excuses he could have come up with, but he didn’t want to. He didn't want to lie to her. 

And he didn't have to. 

"I asked you to come here tonight because I needed to get away." Her fingers dug into the sand. "When we started dating, everything was perfect. For the first few years, everything was perfect. And then we moved here together and everything changed."

She never would have admitted this sober, but she kept going. "We've lived her for a year. It's been a year of him..." she couldn't finish the sentence. 

Bob could guess. When she pulled her hair back, revealing her neck, he noticed. The lights from The Hard Deck that illuminated the beach were so bright, it was impossible to miss. Slowly, Bob lifted his hand, gently touching the skin on her neck. "Did... did he do that?" 

She didn't answer, couldn't answer. Her hands frantically patted her pockets. "I left my phone inside," she mumbled and stood up.

Bob stood with her. His gentle touch stopped her from running back into The Hard Deck. "Please," he whispered. "Talk to me."

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. "Another time, Bobby. Maybe."

She pulled away, but she didn't move away. She couldn't, not with the way he was staring down at her. Bob was still as her hands travelled to his shoulders. She didn't placed them on his neck, didn't play with his hair, it would have been too intimate. 

She pressed her lips to his, kissed him. Why the fuck did she kiss him? But, even as the doubt went through her mind, she didn't pull away. And Bob didn't push her away.

He didn't want to. 

But he didn't move. As much as he wanted to hold her waist, he couldn't. She still had a boyfriend, even if she was the one kissing him. 

She pulled away and released a breath. "I'm sorry," she said, forehead pressed against his chest. "I just..."

She moved away from Bob, practically running back to The Hard Deck. She pushed her way inside and ran around the other patrons, getting back to Phoenix and Hangman. 

"Hey," Natasha said as she moved last them. "Everything okay?" 

She swiped her phone from the table and shoved it into her pockets. 

As she turned to leave, as she moved away from the pool table, she smacked straight into someone. "Fuck," she said as familiar arms wrapped around her. 

She looked up at the person holding her. Her heart sank. "Sneaking off?" 

"Ken." 

She could feel Natasha and Hangman watching as he squeezed her. The smile on his face was supposed to be sweet, not sinister. But it really was sinister. Ken kept wearing that smile as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Get your ass outside. Now."

She couldn't even turn around to say goodbye to Natasha and Jake as Ken moved her along. Embarrassment filled her as she walked past the other pilots, as Ken walked her outside, feeling like a prisoner and their prison guard. Because, really, what else was she?

The moment she stepped outside, her eyes met blue ones. The way Bob was looking at her, she couldn't stand to keep looking at him. But he kept watching, watching as Ken marched her towards the parking lot with his hand on her shoulder, grip bruising. 

It fucking terrified Bob. 

Scared him to the point where he had to follow. He couldn't leave her at this man's mercy, not with what he had seen.

lmao none of my tags are working ffs

Taglist: @biancathecool @nurse-sainz @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess @darksparklesficrecs @primroseluna @littlemsbumblebee @wretchedmo @imaginecrushes @calpalsbestie @hiireadstuff @lyn-js

[strawhbrrries]

Babys Breath, iv

pairing: bob floyd x seresin!florist!reader

summary: Bob stumbles into the nearest florist to the funeral he’s attending and, unknowingly, charms Jake Seresin’s sweet younger sister with all the anxious charm he possesses.

warnings: everyone calls reader “sunshine”, fluff!!!, protective older brother jake??, horrible descriptions of the navy, warnings will differ depending on chapter, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 

word count: 886 words

authors note: here's just a short kinda other pov of our sweet babies! as always, please enjoy! mwah!

tag list: @myownworstenemyyy @kloofspeaks @bcon24 @chaosofmanyfandoms @strangerparks

find the masterlist here!

read the previous part here! and the next part here!

“How’d the coffee go?” Phoenix asked, watching Bob walk in with the biggest smile she’d ever seen. “I’m going to assume it went well.” 

“I’d say so, thanks for the idea.” He sat in the chair across from her, pulling out his phone to show her a selfie the two of you took. “Apparently, some asshole we work with is her brother. She just doesn’t look like anyone we know.”

Phoenix took the phone from him and stared at the picture, zooming in and out as if it was going to help her recognize the face she was looking for.

“And he’s our age? Man, I’ve got nothing. Gorgeous girl though, let me at her if you fuck up.” She teased, handing the phone back to Bob and hitting his thigh playfully.

“Who’s gorgeous?” Jake asked, walking up to the two and trying to get a peak at the picture but failing when Bob puts his phone away. “Bob’s got a girl? Before me?”

“Asshole, there’s probably a reason for that.” Bob grunted, leaning back in his chair and looking up at Jake. He scanned his face, trying to find any similarities to you. The asshole nature of Jake fit the description but he just didn’t fit the physical criteria Bob had created in his head. 

Phoenix walked away from the argument being held by the two boys over a picture, Jake just wanted to see the picture and Bob was standing his ground that it didn’t concern him. She mumbled something about being back later and to cover for her if someone asked about her whereabouts, only getting half of a response from either of them. She’d known about you ever since the receipt was found, he’d needed to confide in someone and that someone was Phoenix. So of course she was just as invested in who your brother was as Bob, maybe even more so.

Ding!

“Welcome! I’m Sunny, how can I help you?” You answered absentmindedly, finishing whatever task you were currently doing before looking up and stopping in your tracks. 

“Hey Sunny, I’ve got a few questions.” Phoenix looked around the shop, admiring the flower arrangements you’d made and put out. 

“Yeah, uhm? Sure?” You were very confused, this was the first time anyone had ever come into the shop and demanded answers to questions. It was also the first time a naval officer came in and didn’t immediately ask for flowers. All you could think of is if Jake was okay or he did something stupid. “Is Jake okay?”

“Holy fucking shit, no way. Hangman’s your brother?” She slapped her hand over her mouth, reeling in the information you’d just unknowingly given here. “I’ve gotta tell Bob.”

“Please don’t!”

“Can I ask why?” 

“Jake’s got this vendetta against other men in the navy, we had this argument over whether or not I ‘could’ text him back. I’d just rather be able to tell both of them at my own pace, y’know?” You pleaded, fidgeting with the extra flower stems in your hand. If you had known she was coming to interrogate you about Bob you wouldn’t have said shit about your brother. Lord knows you’ve got a big mouth, sometimes.

“Understandable, can I ask some other questions?” Phoenix swore up and down she wouldn’t tell Bob or Jake about anything she learned, she had to before you’d answer any of her remaining questions.

It wasn’t until she got a text saying they couldn’t cover for her anymore that she decided to leave, but not before giving you her number and promising to help you cover all your tracks. It felt weird to have someone completely in on the secret but it also felt nice that the weight wasn’t completely on your shoulders anymore, but you couldn’t help but worry that you couldn’t fully trust her. Not that she didn’t seem trustworthy, but it was just a nagging feeling in your gut.

“Where’d you go?” Bob questioned as she came back to the boys, who were still bickering over the picture.

“To see your girlfriend, she’s much prettier in person.” Phoenix teased, sitting back in the chair she was previously in about an hour ago. “Are you two still arguing over a fucking selfie? Aren’t we adults here?”

“I just think it’s a bit unfair that you get to know who his girlfriend is and I don’t.” Jake rolled his eyes, his statement earning a giggle from Phoenix who thought he sounded like a school child.

“It might be a bit closer to home than you think.” Is all she responded, neither boy really understanding what she meant before finding something else to argue about. 

Bob’s got a girlfriend, btw. Not to crush whatever dream you had about it.

You giggled at the text, he didn’t know which meant Phoenix kept her word and you would be forever grateful. You’d play this silly game of pretending to be sad, even though you knew he was referring to you, if it meant getting him off your tail. The absolute last thing you needed in your life was the one person you lived with to blow up because of a man, a very sweet handsome man.

i already told you, i didn’t text him

so why does it matter?

Because I don’t believe you.

[nobody7102]

It's Okay

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Warning: Angst, injury, plane ejection and crash, hospitals, medical talk

Request: @mypr3ttygirlworld "If your comfortable, after watching greys anatomy I have been thinking of a story where Bob gets a brain injury/ brain surgery it’s him and his so basically coming to terms with what that entails. Only if your comfortable with writing it and if not I completely understand!"

A/N: They way I cried multiple times while writing this. I changed the request a tiny bit. Also I don’t know medical stuff so idk if anything is correct medically speaking

Main Master-List

___________________________

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran from the parking lot into the entrance of the hospital, eye’s dashing around for some familiar face.

In the two years of dating Y/N knew that there would always be risks when dating Bob, but they never fully thought about it… until reality had caught up with them.

Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Rooster, before she racked her eyes over the rest of the team as they all sat in the waiting area. Standing from his seat Rooster made his way over to Y/N, pulling her into a hug.

Thoughts flooded Y/N’s head as she hugged him, and that's when her senses caught up with her as she took in Rooster’s words “Maverick’s talking with the doctors right now… we don’t really know anything” 

Y/N just nodded, pulling back “Where’s Natasha?” Rooster motioned to the corner of the waiting room, where Phoenix was slumped in her chair, one arm crossed over her form as the other rested against it, covering her face as her leg bounced against the floor.

Quietly Y/N made her way over to the pilot, kneeling down in front of her, Y/N placed a hand on Phoenix’s knee, causing it to stop bouncing as she looked up.

Y/N’s eyes softened taking in Natasha’s state. Her eyes were red, hair askew, and Y/N noticed how the palms of her hands were indented with the crescent shape of her nails. Leaning forward, Y/N pulled her into a hug as the pilot let out a rigid sob, arms wrapping around Y/N’s form “I-... I don’t know what happened” she mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder. 

The damn that had been holding back the tears and emotions finally broke in Y/N as she hugged Phoenix tighter. The two, not uttering a word as the rest of the team just watched, unsure what to do.

It took a few moments for the two women to regain their senses before Y/N sat next to Natasha and rested her head on her shoulder, as everyone else moved to sit closer to them.

“What happened?” Y/N finally managed to ask after a few minutes, as she sat up, her voice was quite as if something would break if she spoke any louder.

She felt Phoenix stiffen a bit at the question before she cleared her throat “It was supposed to be a simple training day…” she swallowed what little spit was left in her dry mouth “We were just gonna be practicing a flight path and ther-” her voice caught in her throat, her thoughts raced as she tried to find the word but everything just mushed together.

“We were flying when Phoenix caught some turbulence” Hangman continued, seeing how Phoenix struggled, he took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze “They tried to level out, but it blew out the controls… and one of the engines.” he continued

“I thought-” Natasha started again, taking a breath “I hit the canopy button… but the latch got stuck… and then Bob’s seat-” tears started to make their way down her cheeks, she lifted her hands up to hide her face “I’m so sorry Y/N” she mumbled.

Standing from her seat Y/N walked from the group and out the entrance, she paced not knowing what else to do, not noticing how Rooster had gotten up to follow her. 

“Y/N” he called out to her “Y/N, you’re gonna make yourself sick” he grabbed her arm “Will you just take a breath? Please? I know you’re worried but if you worry yourself sick, it’s not gonna do anyone any good” 

“What am I supposed to do then Rooster?” she snapped tears coming to her eyes once again “I….I don’t know how all of you can just sit in there and do fucking nothing!” she raised her voice “god I would love to just sit and do nothing but I-... I-” as she tried to finish her sentence her body began to shake, Rooster pulled her into another hug “I still have so many things I have to tell him… things I wanna do with him…. I can’t-.... I can’t lose him” she sobbed into his chest.

The two stood in silence before the heard the door to the entrance open, “Captain’s back” Coyote’s voice filled the air before the door closed again.

Pulling away from each other, Y/N wiped away the tear stains on her cheeks, taking a few breaths. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Bradley placed a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as they made their way back into the waiting area. Moving back over to the team, Y/N took her place beside Phoenix, locking her arm with hers, giving her an apologetic look for leaving as she did moments before. To which Natasha just nodded before the two turned their attention to Maverick, who shot the two women a sad smile, before turning back to the majority of the team.

“Bob’s still in surgery, all the guy could tell me was that he had a brain bleed from the impact of the canopy and he’s having a craniotomy… they said it's gonna be another 2 or 3 hours. So if you all want to stay feel free, but if you want to go home and get some rest I understand. Admiral Simpson has granted everyone here time off for the week, and I will be staying and giving updates out to those who choose to go home” with that Maverick turned to hunker down in a chair.

Out of the whole team Y/N, Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster had opted to stay with Maverick. As the time passed the team found themselves coping in any way they could.

Pete had taken to drawing small scribbles onto a notepad that he had found in the waiting area, trying to forget that the last time he was a part of an injury this bad was with Goose.

Y/N found herself biting and tugging at her nails, it wasn’t supper bad at first till she let out a sight hiss as she pulled at a hangnail. 

Looking over Phoenix noticed how red Y/N fingers had gotten, reaching her hand over she took one of Y/N’s hands in hers and gave it a squeeze. Looking away from her own hands Y/N gave Natasha a small smile of appreciation before her gaze caught sight of Natasha’s hand, which was also red and raw like her own. 

Hangman had started the train of hand holding, when he noticed how Natasha kept burying her nails into the flesh of her palms, so he took it upon himself to grab the aviator's hand to keep her from causing herself anymore damage. 

Rooster would glance between their small group before he turned his attention to the hallway watching the doctors and nurses as they walked, counting how many different colored scrubs he saw, how many were running places as opposed to walking, anything he could think of to keep his mind busy before he glanced back to his group and started the routine over.

At some point Y/N had fallen asleep against Phoenix’s shoulder, not even realizing it till Maverick and Phoenix were slowly trying to get her to stir from the slumber.

“Y/N there's a nurse coming out” as soon as the words left Phoenix’s mouth, Y/N was wide awake. Trying to straighten out her appearance as the group sat waiting to see whose name would fall from the nurses lips as she picked up a clipboard.

“Floyd, Robert” the nurse called out, causing them all to stand and follow the nurse into a hallway. Once a few feet from the waiting area a man came out to join the group. 

“Are all of you here for Mr. Floyd?” the man hummed, taking the board from the nurse. He was met with nods from the group before he looked at the board in his hand “What about the Emergency contact: Y/N Y/L/N?” 

Heading her name, Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. Bob never told her she was made his emergency contact, but she raised her hand sheepishly “That’s me” 

“Ms. Y/L/N why don’t you follow m-”

“No” Y/N cut the man off “Sorry…” she quickly apologized before adding “The people who are here are all that Bob has… at least all that he had that aren’t states away right now, whatever you tell me you can tell them” 

The man nodded then continued “Well, my name is Doctor Tanner I was the surgeon for Mr. Floyd’s craniotomy. For the most part the helmet did it’s job and absorbed most of the impact, however it still caused a minor brain bleed. We were able to stop the bleed and he’s in recovery right now. He’s a very lucky man” 

Hearing those words brought tears to everyone’s eyes, as Phoenix turned into Hangman for a hug, Rooster and Maverick shared a small smile before Y/N felt a hand squeeze her shoulder, not caring whose hand it was she placed her over it and squeezed back as the surgeon continued “We aren’t allowing visitors right now per hospital visiting hours but since Ms. Y/L/N is Mr. Floyd’s emergency contact you can stay with him till he’s out of the hospital”

“Oh…okay” was all Y/N could muster before she turned to her group. Rooster was the first to pull her into a hug. Followed by Maverick who had been the one to place his hand on her shoulder, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze once more before Phoenix and Y/N shared a tight embrace. 

“Jake and I were thinking of visiting tomorrow, do you want us to stop by your place and bring you anything?” Phoenix mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder.

Nodding as she pulled out of the hug Y/N let out a sigh “My purse… and my phone charger” Natasha nodded before Hangman pulled Y/N into a side hug. 

After bidding her ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good nights’ to the group the surgeon led her down the halls of the hospital.

He paused right outside of a room and turned to Y/N “I didn’t wanna say this in front of your group because there are some things I can only share…. Or at least am advised to only share with immediate family or emergency contact, but the surgery was rough for Mr. Floyd… we had to stop two more brain bleeds before he was fully stable… just so you're aware when you go in, he’s hooked up to a ventilator right now to help regulate his breathing till he wakes up… which brings be to my second point, we don’t know when he’ll wake up” as he spoke Y/N bit the inside of her cheeks trying to stay calm “The anesthesia will wear off in a few hours but after a surgery like his, he will wake up at some point we just don’t know when. Do you understand?”

Y/N nodded “Yes” her voice was quite like it had been before in the waiting area. Turning to the door of the room, he opened it for her. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes as her mind raced once more before she opened her eyes and stepped through the door and into the room. Like the surgeon had said Bob looked rough, as Doctor Tanner had said Bob was hooked up to a ventilator. Part of his head, towards the crown was wrapped, and his face was slightly swollen from the surgery. 

Biting the insides of her cheek once more she moved further into the room, taking a seat in the chair that had been placed at his bedside. As she sat, she felt her body begin to shake once more, trying to steady her breathing she reached her hand out to take Bob’s, her thumb rubbing circled on the back of his.

Doctor Tanner cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him once more “If you need anything or if anything happens, press that button” he motioned to a button on the wall beside the monitor that was tracking Bob’s heart rate. 

“Thank you” Y/N gave the man a small smile before he left the room, and she turned her attention back to the man laying in front of her. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, tears started to make their way down her cheeks as she let out shaky uneven breaths. 

Bringing Bob’s hand up to her mouth, she lightly kissed it, being mindful of the monitors and IVs in it. She closed her eyes as did, a few tears falling onto the back of his palm before she opened them once more and set his hand back down on the bed. 

“Whoever’s looking out for you Bobby… we should send them a muffin basket” she joked to herself.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself staring at Bob, memorizing the features she thought she knew so well. Yet as she looked she found herself noticing things she hadn’t, by now the swelling had mostly gone down and Y/N’s eyes traced over the details of Bob’s face. How he had a slightly uneven tan on his forehead from where his helmet sat. How the skin by the bridge of his nose had slight bruising around it, presumably from his glassing being squished into his face.

All the little details she thought she knew, like the back of her hand, were now different in some miniscule way. Taking his hand in her’s, Y/N brought his hand to her mouth kissing the back of it as she fought back tears.

“Oh Bobby…” she watched as his chest raised and fell, with the steady beep of the monitor in the background “... I love you so much…. And Phoenix and I are gonna kick your ass if you die….” she chuckled to herself as tears slipped down her cheeks “... Jake and Nat are grabbing stuff for us you know…. Probably feeding the animals too” she yawned, taking a few more minutes to herself to admire Bob’s sleeping form before she rubbed her eyes and leaned over Bob’s bedside, holding Bob’s hand as she fell asleep.

__________________________

The next morning, Phoenix and Jake arrived at the hospital with two bags in hand as they were being led to Bob’s room. Upon arrival they were met with Y/N in a chair that was pulled up to the bedside, she was draped over the bedside holding Bob’s hand. 

Setting the bag she held down next to the bed Natasha looked to Jake, who gave her an encouraging smile as she approached Y/N’s sleeping form. Extending her hand, she placed it on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N” she hummed quietly lightly shaking Y/N’s shoulder, after a few minutes she tried again “Y/N” she tried again shaking her shoulder a bit harder. 

“Hmm?” Y/N slowly stirred, pening her eyes she blinked before rubbing at her already irritated eyes before looking to the hand on her shoulder, then to Natasha. “Hi” she said quietly 

“Hi… How’s it going?” Natasha took her hand from Y/N’s shoulder and made her way to pull up another chair next to Y/N

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Jake set his bag down next to the one Natasha had brought in and looked around the room for another chair.

Natasha chuckled as Y/N sat up motioning to a spot at the end of the hospital bed, next to Bob’s feet “Do you want the chair or the bed end?” she shifted in the chair, cracking her back as she did. 

“I’ll take the bed end” he moved to sit on the other side of Y/N. “So back to Natasha’s question” he placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N shrugged “You know… I’m as expected” she motioned to the door “The nurses come in every few hours to check on Bob” she looked back to the man resting in the bed “They’re gonna keep him on the vent till he wakes up… then after they have to see where he’s at after the surgery” she felt Hangman lightly squeeze her shoulder. 

She took Bob’s hand in hers once more “How’s everyone else doing?” 

Natasha shrugged “As expected… The team’s been meeting up at the Hard Deck.. Mav’s been between here and the Hard Deck” 

“I really have to thank him for sending out the updates to everyone, because I just don’t think I could handle that” Y/N sighed.

Looking between Y/N and Bob, Hangman leaned back against the end of the bed “So have you noticed anything? When my family was waiting for my mom to wake up after her surgery, my dad said he would see her twitch… like she was dreaming”

Y/N shook her head moving her eyes off of Bob and to Hangman “I haven’t noticed anything, but it’s only been 4-ish hours since the surgery…. I hope he’s dreaming… dreaming about something good…” Y/N sighed “I don’t know what I’m gonna do” 

To this comment Hangman smirked before he grabbed the bag he had brought and held it out to Y/N “And Nat said you wouldn’t need these” A look of confusion crossed Y/N’s face as she took the bag from Jake. Opening it she was met with three books and a set of colored pencils and the ‘Game of Thrones’ Bob had gotten her for the holidays last year. “I figured you’d need something to keep yourself occupied… I also saw a spare pair of glasses on the book shelf and threw those in there too.”

A smile came to Y/N’s face “Thank you Jake” 

The day turned to night before Y/N was awoken from her sleep by the should of couching.

“Holy shit” She breathed quickly, rising to push the Nuse’s button before she was at Bob’s side taking his hands in her as she tried to stop him from pulling on the tube himself as he continued to cough looking around the room frantically. 

“Bob, Honey” she held his hands at his sides “Bobby. Look at me” her voice was calm yet firm as she moved her hands to grip his “Bobby, breath through your nose” she introduced, watching as Bob did as she said “you had to go under for surgery, okay?” she continued with tears in her eyes, watching as he nodded, understanding “They had to put you on a vent while we were waiting for you to wake up… the nurses are gonna be here in a few minutes to take it out but till then I’m gonna be right here, and you’re gonna breathe through your nose okay?” he nodded again before giving her hands a squeeze.

Like Y/N predicted, the nurses didn’t take long to come in and remove the tube. Once the tube was finally out a nurse helped him take a few sips of water as she talked to Bob, taking down the rest of his vitals.

“Now your vocal cords are going to be swollen for the next few days. So take it very easy with talking” the nurse watched as Bob nodded “you’re gonna be taking up for an MRI and a Cat scan just to make sure everythings okay before Dr. Tanner comes in to talk to you… but that won’t be for a few hours since we’ve got others scheduled ahead of you” the nurse smiled at the two of you, noticing how Bob never let go of your hand, before leaving the room.

Turning to you Bob gave you a light smile before he tapped on the bridge of his nose, wincing slightly as his finger made contact with it.

Nodding in understatement, Y/N let go of his hand briefly to search through the bag that rested at her feet for the spare pair of glasses that Jake had included.

Taking out the blue plastic case, she opened it before unfolding the glasses and slipping them onto Bob’s face. “Better?” she hummed watching as his smile grew, probably from getting to see Y/N better. “I’m glad” she chuckled, bringing her hand up to the side of Bob’s face, holding his cheek. Instinctively he leaned into her touch as her thumb caressed his cheekbone. 

Y/N let her hand linger for a few more moments before she grabbed her phone out of her pocket, before her eyes flickered to Bob “Are you okay if I take a picture to send to everyone?” she watched as he nodded before throwing up a peace sign that was accompanied by a lazy and tired grin for the photo.

Making a group text for the team(and not wanting Maverick to give all the updates) she send the photo before adding

‘Look who’s awake :)’

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Y/N took Bob’s hand once more and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “It's like one in the morning… we should both probably get some rest” she suggested and watched as Bob patted the bed. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now” she chuckled “Besides I don’t think we’d both fit” 

Shaking his head, refusing her answer. Bob scooched over on the hospital bed, making room for Y/N before patting once again to the space besides him.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N rose from her seat to join Bob on the bed. Mindful of the monitors he was hooked up to. Y/N relaxed into his side as his arm wrapped around her, as she took in his scent and the weight of his arm along her shoulder. She didn’t notice how he held his breath upon resting the whole weight of his arm against her. 

“Bob?” Y/N raised her brow, feeling his body tense even more. She turned her body and her hand moved to hold his shoulder. 

He felt her free hand reach up to wipe away a few stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks. Feeling her thumb against his cheek a sob racked over Bob’s body as Y/N pulled him closer. Holding him, mindful of herself and his IV and monitors.

“Its okay Bobby” she felt his grip tighten around her “We’re gonna figure this out” she hummed kissing his cheek.

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General Taglist: @caswinchester2000

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