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topguncortez · 1 year

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The Origin of Honeybee

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (OC: Bea Clark) word count: 3.5k warnings: angsty, smutty, language, teen pregnancy, religious trauma themes Bob & Bea Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

It was a fairy tale love story. The two high school sweethearts who were never seen apart. But, it had started before that fateful day in junior year when Bob found the bravery to ask you out officially. He knew you were going to be his from the first day you walked into his father’s 5th grade classroom. You had started the school year late, beginning in October. Your mom had taken over for a teacher who decided to quit during the school year. Mr. Floyd had introduced you to his class, and Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You were mesmerizing, your eyes hidden behind a pair of blue glasses, your hair in pigtails which you had fought your mom on saying that they made you seem too little kiddish, and the most noticeable, a bright pink cast on your right arm. You had taken the only open seat, right next to Bob, by his father’s desk. You two didn’t say anything, paying attention to the math lesson his dad was teaching. It wasn’t until you went to lunch, you sat at the only empty table, opening your purple lunch box and pulling out the PB&J your dad had packed. Bob walked over to you, you looked up at him,

“Can I sit with you?” He asked shyly and you nodded. He sat across from you, opening his Superman lunch box. The two of you sat in silence for a couple moments, eating your home lunches until Bob spoke up.

“I’m Bobby,” Bob introduced himself softly.

“Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea,” You said.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked.

“Fell off a four wheeler at my grandma’s house,” You said wiggling your fingers, “They had to put a metal rod in,”

“Are you serious?” Bob asked, his blue eyes wide.

“So serious,” You said with a smile. The two of you didn’t separate for the rest of the day, getting to know one another. At the end of the day, Bob walked over to you, he didn’t say anything but held up a black magic marker. You nodded and held out your casted arm, and in very scribbly handwriting Bob wrote his name.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

It was from that point on, the two of you were inseparable. No one ever saw Bob without Bea, and vice versa. They had moved on from playdates after school, to begging parents and older siblings to take them to the roller rink, to sneaking sips of alcohol at Bob’s older brother Ben’s legendary bon fires. You were lucky to have someone by your side to battle that awkward first of high school, where everyone was starting to change, but they never seemed to change. The only change was that Bob’s father had died your freshman year. You sat by his side the whole time during the funeral, holding his hand and occasionally wiping a tear from his face.

“Have you been asked to homecoming?” Ben asked you, as he sat on the couch in the Floyd family basement.

You shrugged, you were shy, no one had noticed you outside of your friends. You had gotten braces over the summer, and were constantly checking the wires on your teeth in the screen of your phone. You had also started the joyous life of being a woman. Puberty had hit both you and Bob. You guys had now started to move into that awkward phase of life, where you were trying to figure out what was happening and if you found someone else attractive or if it was just the newly released hormones.

“Well since it’s your first homecoming, I’ll take you. . . and Bob.” Ben said and glared at his younger brother who was setting up his model train set.

Bob was thankful that Ben had asked you to go with both of them. It made it easier for him to suppress his feelings a little longer. The only person who he confided in about how he felt was Ben. Bob wasn’t jealous of your relationship with his brother, your and Ben’s relationship was brother-sister. You constantly butt heads but would make up with a joke or buying the other food. Ben had purposely ditched the two of you at Homecoming to dance with Megan Stevens, making you and Bob have to not only talk to each other alone, but dance with each other too.

Freshman year fall faded into the summer, and the boys were busy working on the ranch. You hardly saw the two of them unless you were helping their mother Elizabeth cook dinner, or they needed your help with something. While Bob was sweating in the sun every day, you tried out for the cheer team and made it. You had fallen in love with the varsity quarterback, Logan Brooks, and had decided to join the cheer team. You got your braces off and had figured out a good hair care routine. Your new found confidence was radiant, and the boys could see it.

Much to Bob’s dismay, you had started to slip away from him, spending more time with your new cheer friends and boyfriend. Bob had fought his shyness and stood next to his older brother in the front row of the stands during every football game. Ben knew that Bob didn’t care much about the team, but was there to watch your bright smile as you cheered along the side lines.

“I don’t even understand football,” Bob said.

“It's easy,” Ben said, explaining the game to him, but Bob absent mindedly nodded along, his eyes looking at you cheering in front of him.

“If you don’t ask Bea to prom this year, I’m gonna ask her,” Ben said, snapping Bob out of his daze.

“What? Why would you do that? And what makes you think she won’t go with Logan?” Bob said.

“Cause Logan’s eyes aren’t staring at Bea’s ass right now,” Ben said and pointed towards the quarterback, who’s eyes were looking at another girl.

Bob grimaced and frowned. He saw the way you smiled and hugged Logan’s sweaty frame as he walked off the field after winning. Bob also saw the way Logan was looking at another girl from the other team, as you talked to him about how good he did during the game.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

“I don’t even know what I did wrong?” You cried, rubbing your nose with a crumbled up Kleenex. Ben was standing in the doorway to his and Bob’s room, as you sat on Bob’s bed. Some sad song was playing on the record player and Bob was handing you more Kleenex.

Logan had started to be secretive and distant. He was constantly on his phone, hiding it from you. The nicknames and PDA had stopped, and so did most of the daily conversations between the two of you. It wasn’t until you went to deliver him some cookies for his birthday that you had spotted the white BMW in the driveway. He opened the door, shirtless and light bruises covered his abs and collar bone. He didn’t even have to say anything, but you knew. Logan had called out to you as you threw the cookie dish at his car and flipped him off walking away.

“We should go egg his house,” Ben said, “Or go all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville slugger,”

“Ben,” Bob said and shook his head no, “He’s an idiot, honeybee.” The nickname that Elizabeth had given her years ago fell so easily from Bob’s lips, “He didn’t even realize how lucky he was to have you,” You looked up at Bob, those E/C that he had fallen in love with wet with tears. He sat next to you on your bed, his arm thrown around you, while Sam sat in your beanbag chair, “You want to watch a movie?”

“Tommy Boy?” You asked, it was your favorite movie, you could almost quote it word for word.

“Well, thank you both for the invite but I gotta go pick up Olivia for our date,” Ben said, winking at his younger brother. Ben came and kissed your forehead, “It’ll all be okay, Bea. But if you wake up and see my face on the front page for egging or slashing a hole in all four tires, it was for a good cause,”

You laughed at the boy and Bob said goodbye to his brother. You two settled in, watching the movie. At some point in time you had both fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Bob’s arms were wrapped around your waist and your head was on his chest. It was then that you realized that you were falling in love with your best friend.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

There was an obvious shift between the two of you. Everyone could see it, Bob’s siblings, Ben, your parents, Bob’s mom. It was just a matter of time until you two could see it. You both felt the love you had for each other, but both were too stubborn and scared to act on it. It wasn’t until you brought home another boy that Bob knew his window of opportunity was closing. So while you were walking around, pacing the basement floor ranting about whatever his name was, Bob stood up.

“Bea, he doesn’t deserve you. None of them do,” Bob said, “Does he even know your favorite flower? Or what color do you prefer of your favorite flower?”

“No but-“

“It’s orange roses,” Bob said, “You said you hate the cliche white and red, that you prefer orange but will settle for yellow. You fell in love with them when your grandma accidentally planted an orange rose bush when she got sick with dementia. She tried to dig them up, but your grandpa told her that they were unique and beautiful just like she was. You said that was the moment you believed in true love.”

You looked at Bob, his honey brown eyes staring into yours. Your body moved quicker than your brain, and you grabbed his face, connecting your lips together. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into him as you both melted into the kiss. It was like time stopped, and fireworks exploded behind you.

“Ah!” Ben yelled, opening the basement door, “Mom! It’s happening!” He smiled and ran over to go get his mom, leaving the two teens who now had deep red blushes across their cheeks.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

You and Bob seemed to be even closer than ever before. Like always, where anyone saw Bob, you were surely to follow. When they told their friends that they had finally started dating, everyone let out a sigh in relief followed by a “finally”. It seemed as though you and Bob were the only ones who were oblivious to the love that you both had for each other.

Prom was supposed to be the most important night of a young girl's life, but you were absolutely terrified. You had been hyper fixating on your dress and thinking of all the things that can go wrong when you put it on. Your mother did your hair, deciding to curl it and leave it down. Your dress was black, you went for simple (partially because it was what you could afford). Bob was just as nervous as you as he sat on your couch, your dad staring him down. He held onto the plastic box with your corsage with all his might. He was sure that he was sweating through the rental tux. The moment he heard your mother come down the stairs and he stood up, his blue eyes going wide.

“My god, honeybee,” Bob sighed out and your father glared at him. Bob walked from the couch over to the bottom of the stairs and held his hand out for you. You smiled and took his hand, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You clean up nicely.”

“Oh, Bea, be nice to that boy,” Your mom said, “Get close for pictures!”

You probably took a thousand pictures in front of your fireplace. Your face was hurting from smiling so much. Bob had spent all morning cleaning his truck so you didn’t get your dress dirty. He helped you get into the old Ford, making sure that no part of the dress would get stuck in the door. Your mom smiled fondly at the two of you as you drove off.

“They’re going to get married someday,” Your dad muttered and looked at his wife, “He looks at her the way I look at you.”

“I know,” Your mom said and kissed her husband.

You and Bob danced until your feet hurt and he ended up carrying you in his arms back to his truck at the end of the night. There was too much excitement in the air to just go home and go to sleep, so instead, Bob drove you out to the old Oak tree in the middle of his family’s ranch. The night was clear and you could see all of the stars from where you laid in the back of his truck. He put a blanket down so you wouldn’t dirty your dress and you would be somewhat comfortable.

Though stargazing only lasted so long, and soon enough you were in a heated make out session in the back of Bob’s truck. His hands were grazing all over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands tugged on his long locks, his curls curling a bit under his ears. You loved his longer hair, you thought it made him look perfectly older.

“Bob,” You moaned as he kissed your neck.

“Yeah?” He asked, grinding his hips into yours.

“Make me yours,” You said barely above a whisper. Bob pulled away from you and looked at you.

“Are-are you sure?” He asked, caressing your cheek, “We don’t have to do anything just cause it’s prom night. Hell, that’s such a dumb-” You cut him off by kissing him.

“Bobby,” You said, holding his jaw with your hand, “Make me yours.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, honeybee,” Bob said, his voice a bit raspy as he leaned back in and kissed you. You guys fell into a frenzy of roaming hands and kisses, stripping each other of your clothes. You guys looked at each other, having to see each other naked and being intimate for the first time. You laid under Bob, eyes roaming all over his body, “You are even more perfect than I imagined,”

“You imagined me?” You smirked and Bob blushed.

“Once or twice,” He said and leaned in to kiss you, “Do you want to do this?” He asked you again, his blue eyes full of love.

“Make me yours, Bobby.”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — —

You had been sicker than a dog for nearly three weeks. Bob was starting to worry when you missed yet another day of school, but you were just too weak to even climb out of bed. He had gathered your homework and planned on stopping by to give it to you after school. But the frantic text from you had him rushing into the parking lot and speeding to get to you.

You were sitting on the couch in tears when he arrived, your mother and father sitting across from you. Bob felt like he just walked into the middle of an intervention, the air was thick with tension. He called out for you, but you shook your head and your father stood up from his chair.

“Robert Floyd,” Your father’s voice was gruff and all Bob could do was nod, “You got my little girl pregnant?” Bob’s head snapped to you and you seemed to be crying harder than before.

“I’m so sorry,” You cried and Bob looked back at your dad and nodded. Your mom let out a gasp and left the room quickly, not being able to look at you any longer.

Your father ran a hand down his face and then put his hands on his hips. His eyes looked at you, “Get out of my house, Beatrice.”

“Daddy,” You stood up from the couch.

“Wait, Mr. Clark-”

“You disobeyed the bible!” Your father’s voice was loud and rattled you to your core. Bob watched as you began shaking like a leaf in the wind, “I will not have a sinner and a bastard child under my roof! Look what you did to your mother!” Your dad pointed to the direction your mother went crying, “Gather your things, and get out of my house.”

Your father stormed out of the room, leaving you and Bob alone. Bob quickly rushed to your side and wrapped you up in his arms. You held onto him tightly, afraid he might disappear on you. Sobs racked your body as Bob tried to shush your tears.

“Shh, honeybee, breathe,” Bob said, rubbing your back. He couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of your cries. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on other than the fact that you were possibly pregnant and your parents had just kicked you out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You said and Bob pulled back from you. He gently held your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Bobby, you have to believe-”

“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Bob shook his head, “Is what your dad said true? You’re pregnant?”

You nodded and sniffled, “I haven’t been feeling good for weeks, and I missed my period. I drove to Davis to the drug store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, quit apologizing, alright,” Bob said and kissed your forehead, “We’re gonna get through this, together. I’m not leaving you.”

“What about the Navy? Bob, you have been dreaming of that since you were a kid.” One of the first things Bob had told you back in the fifth grade, while you dangling upside down from the monkey bars was that he wanted to join the Navy. His dad had been in for a couple years to pay off his student debt, and he loved it. Bob had grown up watching air shows in Virginia beach during the Fourth of July.

“I’ll figure it out. Whatever you want,” Bob said, and took both your hands in his, “You and this baby are my future, okay,” You nodded and bit your lip as brand new tears threatened to spill.

“I have no place to go,” You cried and Bob shook his head.

“Yes you do,” He said, “What do you need? I’ll go get it.” You rattled off a couple items that you can think of off the top of your head and Bob ran up to your room and packed you a bag. Your parents were hiding in the kitchen, far away from you and Bob. They must’ve really been ashamed of you if they couldn’t even say anything as Bob guided you out to his truck.

The ride to the Floyd ranch was painfully silent. You looked out the window the whole time, resting your hand on your stomach. Bob would steal glances over at you every once in a while. You had stopped crying which was a plus, but your cheeks and nose were still red. When you pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, Bob jogged around to your side of the truck and helped you out. He held your hand the whole time as you walked into the house, the smell of dinner hitting both of your noses. You both could hear Elizabeth Floyd yelling at her younger kids, and the squeals of children running around.

“Allison Floyd, if you don’t stop messing with your sister!” Elizabeth’s voice was firm as you and Bob walked into the kitchen. She took one look at you and knew what was going on. Call it a mother’s intuition.

“She needs a place to stay. . . for a while,” Bob said and Elizabeth nodded.

“You can take Benny’s room down in the basement,” Elizabeth said. You nodded and took your bag from Bob’s hands and made your way down to the familiar room that the eldest Floyd child once inhabited. When you were out of ear shot, Elizabeth looked at her son, “Her parents found out?”

“Yeah,” Bob said, placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, “Kicked her out. I didn’t even know until I got there”

“And what are you gonna do? You gonna step up?”

Bob nodded, “Of course. That’s my baby. I’m not gonna leave her high and dry. I’ll do whatever she wants to do.”

“You better not, Robert Floyd. I raised you better than that. Now,” Elizabeth said and walked over to the pantry. Bob watched her a bit confused until she walked out with a sleeve of saltine crackers and a ginger ale, “Go give these to her. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t kept anything down in days.”

Bob nodded again and took the items from his mom’s hands, “How did you know?”

Elizabeth sighed, “Cause I had that same look on my face when we told your grandparents I was pregnant with Ben. Now go on, no time for questions.”

“Thank you,” Bob said and went downstairs to find you.

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