0mg-bird · 3 months ago
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i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3
unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?
Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3
Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader
“No.”
“Sweetheart.”
“Absolutely not, Robert.”
Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.
“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."
He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.
You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.
"Yes they will." He says.
"I'm boring."
"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."
He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."
Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."
As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.
"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.
He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."
And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.
"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.
You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.
"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.
Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.
You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.
"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.
"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.
You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.
"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.
"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.
You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.
Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.
Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.
Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.
Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.
"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.
"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.
At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.
"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.
Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.
You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."
He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.
It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.
"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.
"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.
"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.
"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.
As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"
Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."
The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.
"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."
Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."
They all gasp.
"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.
At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.
"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.
"I'm good on dry land, sailor."
Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."
"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.
"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.
He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"
"Not a chance."
You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.
"Are you ready?" He asks.
"No! Bobby!"
He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.
“Bobby!”
“One.”
“No, baby, please.”
“Two.”
“Robert Floyd!”
“Three!”
He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.
“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.
He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”
The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.
“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.
“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.
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aestheticaltcow · 28 days ago
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The Ball (Bob Floyd x Reader)
Kinktober 2024
(Divider credit to @strangergraphics)
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“You look so handsome.” you complimented Bob for the millionth time that evening. Tonight had been your first Naval Ball and the first time you’d seen Bob in his dress whites. He chuckled and placed a hand on your waist as the two of you exited the hall that had been rented out for the occasion, “You’re into the uniform, aren’t you?”
His question was met with a giggle. As Bob guided you back to his truck, you couldn’t help but admire how Bob’s uniform wrapped around his body. There was something about white dress pants that made him utterly irresistible.
As Bob turned the key in the ignition, you noticed the subtle spread of his thighs. When he placed his right hand on your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze, “You’re so beautiful, angel.” he cooed. You giggled and put your hand on his. You sat back in your seat and let your head fall back to stare at Bob for the rest of the way home. 
When the two of you arrived home, Bob moved to remove his jacket, “Hey- leave that on.” you said as you kicked your heels off. Bob shot you a quizzical look as you pulled the top of your dress down, “Oh.” he said, his eyes lighting up at your now-exposed breasts. “Come and get me… but leave the uniform on..” you said, biting your lip as you hurried to the bedroom, shedding your dress as you went. Bob let out a huff of air and followed suit.
You loved a man in uniform.
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aceoflove · 5 months ago
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The Bookshop of his Dreams - Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
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He wasn't like the rest of the daggers, always chasing the next hookup. Robert "Bob" Floyd wants to find a girl and settle down, and now that he is permanently stationed at Top Gun, maybe he can.
Fluff, 848 words
A/N: I'm a little rusty, so apologies if it isn't the best <3
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Bob never considered himself a social butterfly, as he would rather read than go out to a bar on a roundy Friday night after work with his teammates, being left alone when they all find someone to take home. Even though he had been back at Top Gun for 3 months, being a back seater for Pheonix, he never really left the base, minus some small errands. After Maverick announced that the Dagger Squad will be a permanent fixture in San Diego, he could finally breath, knowing that he could get attached to his squadron and the town he has been living in. The military was always moving him around, as a top WSO, but a part of him wished he could settle down, stay in one place for a while and maybe find a girl, and hopefully this was his chance.
The clouds drifted over the sun and the rain began to pour, his feet hitting the ground at a steady place before the little bell above the door rings. He makes it inside a quaint bookshop, owned by a local family from what he had read. He was on his way over there, to find sanctuary for his aching heart when it started to bucket, drenching him to the bones.
“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”
A soft voice drifts from behind the counter, a contrast to the sharp pitter patter of rain bouncing off of the shop fronts windows. Bob turns, spotting the person who spoke to him. The store was empty apart from the worker behind the counter. She was pretty, truly his type looks wise. A timid smile is plastered on both of their faces as he nods.
“Honestly it came out of nowhere. It was so peaceful on the walk over here until just now.”
A chuckle escapes her lips as she nods, her gaze drawn to the window where raindrops were racing down to the bottom. He was drawn to her eyes, her distracted nature endearing, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. She shakes out of it and looks back at him. “Sorry! Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”
The comfort of the shop truly drew him in, the plethora of books adorning the shelves making him want to buy out the whole store (Although he doesn’t need to get any more books, his shelves were overflowing with poetry books, and any book that captured his interest). Each step brought him further into the atmosphere, each step bringing him into the enchantment of the fairytale in his mind. The shelves carved out of wood, the details making it feel like the shelves belonged in a cottage.
He can’t help but smile at how the book looks so amazing, the collection precise and diverse, curated with many interests in mind.
He comes back a few more times over the next month, getting closer to her, learning her interests, favourite books, and how the shop was her whole world.
His mind wanders back to the loneliness in his heart, how he wishes he could settle down, and have his own library, his wife curled up with a book, nestled into his side as his attention is taken away from his own book to her face. How her face lights up at certain parts and how he can’t help the love in his eyes.
Her face changes, warping into a different face from the one that was stuck in his mind. Her face turned up. He cannot think about this.
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Bob was standing outside the bookstore, trying to work up the nerve to walk back in there after thinking of her for a week, his mind running in circles with different daydreams of what like would be like with her by his side, finally having the life he wished for.
Once again, the store welcomes him in, the warmth embracing him and her smile making him melt once more. “How’s my favourite customer?”
“Better now I’m back here.”
‘Now that I’ve seen you.’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding out of his chest as he flushed a little, heading back into the shelves he was familiar with now, as he could walk around there with his eyes closed.
The mind still wanders, seeing her at the front counter reading another book, flipping through the pages, most likely for a review from the shop. He could imagine her at his kitchen counter, reading and annotating while he cooked them dinner. Bob allows his mind to come back down to earth and he looks through the books once more, grabbing a few from the shelves, admiring the blurbs and the cover design. He makes his way to the front counter, back to the woman who captured his attention.
“Ooo! I love this book!”
She picks up one of them, scanning them for purchase. Her eyes lit up, his heart filled with warmth, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, and he knew.
‘I’m screwed.’
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say-al0e · 1 year ago
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Starlight
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Rating: PG
Summary: As your back seater, you trusted Bob with your life. He was the one person you could tell anything. He cared enough to listen and did what he could to ease your anxiety. He knows something's wrong but he couldn't imagine the birdstrike made you consider feelings you thought were better left buried. [Ft. "It's you, it's always been you, it always will be you." + "I'm so in love with you and you don't even notice." "...you're in love with me?" Requested by Anon ages ago - sorry!] Warnings: Anxiety, mentions of work related injury (birdstrike), brief mention of sexism in the workplace. Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x fem!Reader (Pilot!Reader) Word Count: 3.8k  Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
Robert Floyd knew what it was like to be anxious. He spent his fair share of days in a suspended state of fight or flight, really only relaxed when he was in the air - a contradiction, he knew, but being strapped into his seat with nothing but the blue expanse of sky stretching before him was comforting in a way he couldn’t quite understand.
Anxiety was something he knew all too well but he knew you, too. Over the years, Bob had learned to read you better than the most well-loved book on his shelf. The little tells that everyone else missed - the downward curve of your mouth, the slump of your shoulders, the uneven measure of your breathing - never escaped his notice.
It was easy to guess that the measure of comfort, the ease with which he read you, came from your proximity. As your back seater, Bob spent more time with you than anyone else. He was trained to notice things, to anticipate the next move, to read a few lines ahead, and you - your moods, your tells, your general being - were at the top of the list of things he noticed.
For better or for worse, good day or bad, Bob could tell with a single look.
There was no hiding from Bob, not that you even tried anymore, and there was never any surprise that he saw the signs of your anxiety immediately.
The moment you stepped into his room - fingers trembling, lashes fluttering as you blinked just a little too quick, breath coming in a little too shallow - he knew. There was no point in trying to hide it, no use in pretending that it was anything other than anxiety. Bob could see right through you by now.
Way back when, when he first realized that you were just as anxious as him and lived in that same state of suspended fight or flight, he’d asked what helped.
For Bob, it was music. Very few people knew he enjoyed playing guitar - even fewer had ever heard him play to know that he was good at it - but when he found himself lost in thought, crippled by an anxiety that left him nauseous, he took a few moments to sit and strum away. His vinyl collection remained back home, waiting for the day he moved into a place that he could really make his own, but when playing guitar didn’t work, he still turned on the playlist he made specifically for moments of anxiety and let himself get lost in the music.
Bob remembered the look on your face when you admitted that you had no idea. That frown - a little confused, curious as to why he even asked; a lot upset, crushed that you had no idea how to help yourself after spending your life almost hyper independent - and the way you nearly refused to meet his eyes, intently staring at the stained carpet of his bedroom floor, remained seared into his memory.
Before him, there’d been no one to acknowledge your feelings. Growing up, you were always the tough one. In the Naval Academy, and at Top Gun, you pushed yourself to be the best - eager to be taken seriously in a world dominated by men. Outwardly, everyone saw you as the strong one; the one that was capable of pushing through, no matter the circumstances. 
Before him, no one cared enough to truly look and see beyond the facade. If they noticed, no one ever really cared enough to try and help. Before him, each time you felt anxious - chest aching, lungs tight, heart racing, skin prickling - you isolated yourself.
Dealing with the problem on your own was easier when there was no additional disappointment caused by another’s apathy.
Bob, however, cared.
If you told him that isolation really helped - truly meant it, really needed time alone to gather yourself, to pick apart the pieces of your panic and put yourself back together again - he would’ve gladly given you space. But that wasn’t the case and Bob knew that.
At first, he had no idea how to help, but he knew that leaving you alone wasn’t the way too go about things. No matter how hard you tried to push him away - something he was thankful you no longer tried to do.
And after a great deal of trial and error, he helped you figure out what worked best.
Instead of allowing you to step further inside, Bob was on his feet and reaching for his keys and jacket the second he caught sight of your face. He could see the glass of your eyes, the far-off stare as you willed yourself not to fall apart. And despite the blistering heat outside, he could see the way shivers racked your body.
Without a second thought, he draped the soft fabric over your shoulders. It was light but it served as a weight against your skin, a sort of tether to reality, as he guided you out of his room.
Warmth bled from his palms, seeped through the fabric and into your skin as he placed a hand at the middle of your back, and his mouth curved into a soft frown as you leaned into the touch. It wasn’t as exceedingly rare as it seemed that first time - way back when, before Bob knew whether your partnership would work, before he was comfortable enough with you as a friend to really allow himself to fall for you - but you really only leaned in like that when you were so far in your head that he wondered just what sent you spiraling.
Bob wasted no time wondering, however. “C’mon,” he urged gently, voice quiet and soft in a way it always seemed to go in moments like this. “Let’s go for a drive.”
As he guided you out of the building, he kept closer than he usually stood - only a fraction of an inch between you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his body and the shivers racking yours - and squeezed your shoulder gently as he opened the passenger door. Soft brown eyes, wide and searching, met yours as you climbed in.
When you offered him the ghost of a smile, watery and in no way reaching your eyes, he returned it as best as he could - encouraging, soft, easy - and mumbled a quiet, “It’s okay,” before rounding the vehicle.
There was no need to ask where he was taking you. This had become an increasingly regular occurrence - a byproduct of the stress of work and life, family and all their endless frustration, all settling heavy on your chest - so you wrapped the soft fabric of his sweatshirt tighter around your body. The warmth mattered little, even as Bob turned on the heat despite his own discomfort, as you inhaled deeply.
The jacket smelled of him - the soft, clean scent of his shampoo; the woody, citrus scent of his cologne; acrid jet fuel, achingly familiar, that managed to permeate every item either of you owned - and it calmed your heart, if only slightly. Though it was light, the added weight helped, pressed on your shoulders and eased the tremors in your limbs, as Bob slowly maneuvered the streets.
Doe eyes flickered between you and the road occasionally, soft brown reflecting orange streetlights and glittering with a concern you only really saw directed at you. Bob cared about a lot of things - his friends, his family, his job - and was anxious about even more. But he really only worried about you these days.
Bob never voiced it aloud, never said it in so many words, but you knew. Everyone knew. There was very little fragile about you - he knew that, had seen you take charge on more than one occasion; regularly watched you hold your own with men like Hangman, men who somehow managed to be worse than Hangman ever thought about being - but he still worried.
Outwardly, the pair of you could’t seem anymore different. Bob relegated himself to the shadows, allowed the world to spin without throwing himself right into the center of it all. You never sought attention but, somehow, always seemed to garner it without so much as the blink of an eye. Not that he blamed anyone for focusing on you, he was guilty of it, too, most days.
But he knew that you shared more similarities than differences.
Long years, left out and forgotten, invisible to nearly everyone else; less than stellar childhoods, spent building fantasies that had yet to come to pass as a means of protecting yourselves; years of service, marked by exemplary records and commendations, even through relative silence.
If anyone could really understand what you felt, the anxiety that all too often plagued you, the root of what really kept you up at night, it was Bob.
As buildings rushed by, passed in a blur of shadows and orange streetlights, you busied yourself with a fraying thread at the cuff of his jacket. Though silence was not unusual, this was heavier than normal - nearly suffocating, without the usual comfort, lacking the distinct feeling of home that so often came with spending time together - but breaking it was the last thing on either of your minds.
Bob would never push, would never make you speak before you were ready, and knew that you were one of the few who truly appreciated his ability to remain a quiet, steady force as he navigated the familiar course through town.
The beach wasn’t a place either of you frequented - sun and sand and a preening Hangman didn’t top either of your lists of favorite things - and before being stationed in California, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d stepped foot on one. There wasn’t really much there for either of you but Bob had discovered one thing about the beach that managed to help your anxiety.
Sitting in the sand, cloaked in the soft light of the moon, as you listened to the crashing of waves made it easier for you to catch your breath. Watching the twinkling lights of distant stars, planets, passing planes - sometimes pointing them out, others just watching in silence - brought your heart rate down and stopped the tingling in the tips of your fingers.
Neither of you expected the beach to be the place you found solace but Bob had no intention of questioning something that helped you return to yourself.
Arriving at the beach meant following a familiar routine. Bob parked, grabbed an oversized towel from the backseat floorboard, and spared you a final cursory glance before climbing out to open your door for you.  He guided you, with a hand at the middle of your back - always so respectful, always careful not to dip too low - along the wooden path down to the sand before stopping and helping you remove your shoes.
When you settled in the sand, close enough to the water to feel the occasional spray of sea air but far enough ashore to remain out of reach, he always returned his full attention to you.
Sometimes, Bob asked if you wanted to talk. He never pushed, was never one to swear getting whatever it was off your chest would make you feel better - he knew from experience that it wouldn’t, not always -, but he always offered to listen. However, more often than not, you refused his request with one of your own.
“Can you talk? Doesn’t really matter what you say.”
The words were always spoken softly, nearly lost in the crashing of waves, but this was routine now. It didn’t really matter if he heard the words or not, he could see the request in the curve of your mouth - in the way your eyes glittered with unshed tears as you glanced at him from beneath your lashes.
That request was always followed by an even quieter, “Your voice helps.” While Bob wasn’t known for being the most talkative, he swore he’d spend the rest of his life speaking, just for you.
When you first made that request, he nearly asked you why. His voice wasn’t one people sought out, wasn’t one people cared to pay much attention to. But for some reason, you seemed to find comfort in it - in him - and the thought warmed his heart more than he cared to admit.
Bob never really let himself think too much about any of it, though, not where you were concerned. If he allowed himself that indulgence, he knew it would be glaringly obvious how he felt. There would be no denying just how deep his feelings for you ran, no denying that he’d known about those feelings since that first night at the beach. But most of all, there would be no denying that he was desperate to do anything and everything to make you happy.
There wasn’t a world in which Bob could see you returning his feelings - not just because of your jobs, not just because your lives were so thoroughly intertwined at this point that your inevitable rejection would destroy the effortless working relationship you’d built - so he kept them buried down deep.
It didn’t help to know that he wasn’t the only one who’d found you immediately alluring. Still, he’d witnessed you turn down Fanboy, Rooster, and Hangman in rapid succession - something that dashed any remaining sliver of hope that you could ever want him.
Regardless, the more time he spent with you, the better he got to know you, the deeper his feelings ran. You allowed him to catch glimpses that no one else ever got the privilege of seeing, allowed him a look at the inner workings of your mind. You let your guard down around him, gave him an intimate look at the person behind the bravado you felt necessary to survive in this world, and he was grateful for every glimpse.
As desperate as he sometimes felt to put a little distance between you outside of the cockpit, Bob knew that he couldn’t stand it. Not when he was the one you turned to, not when you seemed to find such comfort in him. So, he did as you asked.
“My grandma called this morning,” he began, voice quiet so as to avoid shattering the peace that surrounded you both. “She said it snowed yesterday and threatened to hang up on me when I told her it’s been seventy-five and sunny here every day.”
From the corner of his eye, Bob could see the ghost of a smile lift the corner of your mouth. A soft exhale, something that resembled quiet laughter, escaped and he began to smile a little himself. You’d had the joy of meeting his grandmother on her last visit - asked about her just as often as she asked about you - and loved to hear stories of her more than anything.
“The neighbor’s cows got into her yard again, trampled what was left of her flowers. Mr. Abbott, down the road, said he’d come fix her fence when the snow clears so it won’t happen again and his wife promised to help replant her flowers so she’s not too upset, I guess.”
Bob held his breath as you shifted closer, rested your head on his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully, but willed his heartbeat to remain steady as he swallowed. “Lizzy’s supposed to have her baby in a few weeks. She told me to tell you thanks for the gift.”
Another soft hum, this one a little more lively than the last, reverberated through his skin as you acknowledged his sister’s gratitude. “Glad she liked it.”
“Think she’s got pretty much everything she could need now. Can barely get in the baby’s room,” he confided, laughing lightly as he glanced out at the still ocean. “Grandma said they’re gonna have to store some stuff at her house, until they need it.”
A brief quiet fell over the pair of you then as you attempted to focus on your breathing while Bob made a conscious effort to keep his hands from shaking as he dusted sand from his palms. This was in no way new. In fact, he should’ve expected it - the quiet, the close proximity, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as you attempted to gather yourself - but it managed to shock him to his core every single time it happened.
Though a small part of him wanted to linger, to allow you the time to speak when you were ready, he couldn’t help himself as he asked, “What’s on your mind?”
Bob waited patiently as you considered your answer, waited with few expectations as you weighed the words carefully in an attempt to decide just how honest you wanted to be. He expected many things - a lament of how hard you’d all been training, a huff at how difficult Hangman had been, a roll of your eyes as you mentioned your mother’s latest tirade - but he felt a sort of mild surprise when you answered.
“The birdstrike.” He was the person you let in the most, the person you allowed a glimpse beyond your tough facade, but the birdstrike was something neither of you spoke of.
Nearly two weeks had passed since the incident, one that saw you both ejecting in the middle of training - one that left you with a concussion and Bob with a bruised rib - and he’d assumed you were planning to avoid speaking about it. There’d been a tense moment in the hospital, one in which you’d shared a wordless conversation, and that was that.
Really, though, he should’ve known better.
“What about it?” He wasn’t one to press, not really, but he felt the need to ask as you began drawing nonsensical patterns in the sand at your side.
“I… I know it was just a freak accident. It happens. But I was just… I was afraid,” you admitted, voice quiet over the rush of the ocean. “I was afraid of what would happen to us, to you. I didn’t,” you paused then, taking a moment to inhale a shaking breath as you gathered your thoughts. “I didn’t want that to be the end. And I know I should’ve been thinking about something more important in that moment, like my family or the future or something, but the only thing I could think about was the fact that I’m so in love with you and you don’t even notice.”
For a moment, Bob feared the exhaustion he was beginning to feel had caught up with him. There was no way he heard what he thought he did. There was no planet on which you returned his feelings, no timeline in which it made sense for you to love him, too, but the words echoed loud and clear in his ears.
To know that you’d spent that moment thinking of him, wondering if he reciprocated your feelings, simultaneously eased the ache in his chest and sent his heart rate soaring. It was difficult to do much more than blink, to flounder as he searched for something comforting to say, and he ultimately landed on the obvious.
“…you’re in love with me?” The question was high-pitched, edging on hysterical, but Bob couldn’t bring himself to care very much as he tipped his head to glance at you.
There was a faraway look in your eyes as you glanced out at the ocean, a deliberate attempt to keep from meeting his eyes, as you hummed. “Yeah.” It was defeated, quiet, almost resigned as you made a thoughtful noise. “You make it so hard to be anything but in love with you.”
Robert Floyd had been called many things in his lifetime; quiet, odd, difficult. Lovable was never a word he’d encountered. His mouth opened and closed several times in search of the right words to say, something that would adequately portray his own feelings, but all he seemed to be capable of was a disbelieving, “I… no one’s ever said anything like that to me.”
“That’s always so surprising to me,” you revealed, still refusing to glance in his direction, though he was certain you could feel the rapid beat of his heart. “It’s you. It’s been you from the moment we met and I’m starting to think it will always be you. I realized it before then and I know that this is probably a terrible thing, being in love with you when our lives are so intertwined. If you don’t…” You trailed off, pausing for a moment to gather yourself, before you cleared your throat. “If you don’t feel the same, work might be weird. Or if you do and something happens later on, it might ruin what we have. I’ve thought about it for a while, whether I should say something, and after that I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have but I figured you deserved to know.”
Those were fears Bob had, too, reasons he’d kept his own feelings to himself as he realized you’d likely be assigned a new back seater and your time together would be cut in half, but knowing that you felt the same made it difficult for him to continue upholding that line of logic.
There was always a chance that you’d be separated - that you’d be sent in different directions, across the world from one another. To refuse to act on feelings that he now knew you shared out of fear for the unknown no longer seemed like the best course of action.
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, poetic words that he could share to assure you he felt the same way, but nothing felt right. The only action he felt capable of in that moment was reaching out to cup your cheek. With your head tipped in his direction, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion, he leaned in to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss.
“I’m in love with you, too,” he confessed, voice soft as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have been for a while. There are a thousand ways this can go wrong,” he acknowledged, “but that doesn’t feel like it matters when you love me, too.”
“Can we worry about the future tomorrow? Right now, I just want to be in love.”
Bob knew that the conversation was one you’d have to have sooner rather than later but he was glad to grant your request. The future was uncertain but one thing he knew now, clear as day, was that his love was not unrequited and that was enough to get through the night.
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Author's Note: I started this ages ago but I finally finished it. Slowly but surely. Maybe I'll finish a few more requests before the end of the year!
Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​
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taylorsburner · 2 years ago
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Are You Forgetting Anything?
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A/N: I really wanted to write something fluffy for Bob. It's like a requirement; Bob is fluff. It's really short but I love it. It's not my first fic, but it's my first Bob fic so I hope y'all like it :)
No matter how many times Bob went over his mental checklist, he always managed to forget something. Whether it be his wallet, or his keys, one day it was almost his flight suit, Bob always had to have a little reminder of his essentials before he stepped foot out of the door every morning. If it weren’t for the fact that his glasses were practically glued to his face, he would’ve found a way to forget them too. Bob had to have you doublecheck over everything, otherwise, he’d be in pretty bad shape at some point later on in the day.
This morning, for example, Bob almost forgot his phone.
After getting up at an ungodly hour and helping him get himself ready for his day, Bob was almost ready to leave for base. He somehow managed to grab his bag and coffee off of the counter, but leave his phone that was sitting right next to them behind. Luckily for him, you were trailing behind him to the front door with his phone in tow.
“Are you forgetting anything?” You ask as he grabs his keys from the dish beside the front door. 
Bob then turns to face you with a wide smile on his face before ducking down to place a small kiss on your cheek and then lips. 
“I think I’ve gotten everything now.” Bob proudly grins.
“Thanks, but I was talking about this.” You whisper, biting back the small smile threatening to show as you reveal his phone. Bob's face almost instantly turns red at the sight of the phone he left behind.
“I could’ve sworn I had it in here.” Bob huffs confusedly, taking the phone out of your hands. “One day I’ll have it all together.”
“One day.” You muse with a smile, sending a small wink his way and smoothing your hands up his arms to his shoulders.
“What on earth would I do without you?” Bob hums, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you into him.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Well me neither, and I don’t plan on finding out.” He whispers back with a dopey smile, bringing his lips down to yours for a proper kiss. A kiss you more than deserved for saving his butt once again.
Was bob a little forgetful? Yes. Did that mean you had to get up at the same time as Bob, a time that you couldn’t even fathom being awake, to make sure he had it all together? Also yes. But at the end of the day, he never forgot the most important things, and that’s all that mattered. And most importantly, you loved him dearly. Him and all of his forgetful tendencies.
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arcane-vagabond · 1 year ago
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The Apple of My Eye
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Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader
Summary: Your boyfriend can't believe you've never gone apple picking...
Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Excited Bob, Flirty Bob, Bob.
Word Count: 1,136
A/N: I know this one is a little on the shorter side too, but why force more when it's already so cheesy? Anyway, this is part of my Halloween/Fall one-shot collection! My inbox and requests are always open, so feel free to shoot me a message! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! If you like my writing, consider buying me a ko-fi!
Masterlist
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“Are you ready?” Bob asked excitedly from the driver seat. You looked over at him with a small smile, heart warming at the sight of your overly enthusiastic boyfriend. Bob didn’t often show his excitement like this, and you were one of the few people who ever got to see him in this state.
No, you’re boyfriend was a weird mix of shy and confidant, something that worked surprisingly well for him. He was confidant in his abilities, but horribly shy when it came to romance. You had been shocked when the young pilot had approached you one day during a summer day off with your mutual friends. You had always found him attractive, and everyone knew this fact, especially your long-time best friend Natasha. She had been the reason you had been enveloped into the dagger squad to begin with. You weren’t a pilot, but that didn’t seem to matter the more you spent time with the rowdy crew.
Bob had caught your eye almost immediately with the way he would duck his head and blush everytime you so much as looked his way. It was endearing, really. But what really had you falling head over heels for the man was the surprising amount of self-assuredness he had when doing things. Confidence was sexy, after all. And after months of tip-toeing around each other, the squad had worked together to come up with the perfect plan at getting Bob to ask you out. That summer day was one of the best of your entire life.
Now, you smiled softly at your boyfriend of over a year as he buzzed with excitment at the idea of your current date. He had stared at you in disbelief when you told him that you had never been apple picking, and he had decided that that was a misfortune that had to be corrected right away.
“I’m ready, Robby,” you hummed, gathering the basket at your feet. Bob got out of the car and rounded to your side, opening the door so you could get out. He was nothing, if not a gentleman. He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully, linking your arm with his as he pushed the door closed behind you.
“You’re gonna have so much fun, Bug. I can’t believe you’ve never gone apple picking before!” He grinned. You giggled at how excited he was, moving your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand lightly, giving you a shy smile. You hoped a day never came where that smile didn’t send a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Minutes later, the two of you were walking through rows of trees, families, friend, and couples milling about around you.
“So,” you drawled, glancing up at him. “How does this work?”
Bob’s eyes lit up, excitedly telling you about everything there was to know, and you watched him with a dreamy expression.
“So, you don’t wanna pick the apples that are already on the ground because those are for the deer and bugs,” he explained, gesturing to the many apples that littered the ground. “And then you wanna pick the apples from the outer branches because they ripen first. Oh! And don’t eat straight from the tree.”
“Why not?” You asked him.
“Because you always wanna wash your fruit first, baby. Who knows what kind of pesticides they use around here,” he replied, wrinkling his nose.
“Makes sense,” you nodded, walking up to one of the trees. “What about these?”
Bob stepped up beside you, inspecting the yellow and red apples. “You planning on doing much baking?”
“Isn’t that why we’re here picking them?” You giggled, earning a soft smile back. “Thought you would want some apple pie.”
“You gonna bake for me, sugar?” He smirked, leaning in. You hummed, brushing your nose against his.
“Would do anything for you, Robby,” you grinned, biting at your bottom lip. Bob blushed, ducking his head down in embarrassment. You let out another giggle, reaching up to pick one of the low hanging apples. Bob glanced up, reaching his hand out to stop you.
“Hold on, now,” he smiled. “There’s a trick to it. You don’t want to pull on the apple, that means it isn’t ready. You wanna find one that you can just twist-”
He gently twisted his hand around the apple, and you heard a quiet snap as the fruit broke free from the branch, his smile just as wide as yours as you looked at one another.
“And pull,” he finished, pulling the apple free and placing it gently into the basket. “You don’t wanna just toss them in either. That can bruise’em and then they’ll all go bad.”
“Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants!” You teased, causing another blush to crawl up his cheeks. You placed a kiss to his cheek before stepping back to assess the tree in front of you. “Now, let’s get to work! There are apples to be picked and pies with your name on them waiting to be baked!”
The two of you began working your way around the lower branches, plucking and comparing apples as you quickly filled your basket. Bob took one look at you holding the heavy object, and shook his head with a frown. Worldlessly, he took the basket from your hands, replacing it with his other hand. You leaned into him with a smile, gazing up at him adoringly.
“Always the gentleman,” you gushed, and Bob looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow, eyes containing a hint of mischief.
“Always?” He hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear with a smirk. “What about when I do that one thing in the bedroom-”
“Robert Floyd!” You shrieked past a giggle, swatting his shoulder as he chuckled. “You can’t just go around saying things like that! There are children present!”
“You’ve never complained about the things I’ve said before,” he smirked, and now it was your turn to duck your head out of shyness. Bob chuckled, squeezing your hand gently as he pulled you towards the barn where the rest of the crowd was weaving in and out.
“C’mon, sugar,” he laughed. “Let’s go get some cider, yeah?”
You allowed yourself to be led to the barn, smile ever-present on your face as it usually was in the presence of the man next to you.
Yes, Bob could be shy at times, but he was a man who knew what he wanted. And what you didn’t know was that he was confidant in the fact that you were it for him, but he would wait. His mama always told him that patience was a virtue and that good things come to those who wait. He would wait forever if it meant he could keep you by his side.
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laracrofted · 1 year ago
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❝ down comes the night
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synopsis: billionaire bob floyd has a reputation for partying and womanizing, but bob has a secret. and when her work in the district attorney's office puts her in the crosshairs of the mob, fran find herself right in the middle of his double life.
pairing: batman!bob floyd x fran douglas (oc)
general warnings: minors and ageless accounts dni (18+), batman au, explicit smut, explicit language, alcohol, see individual posts for specific warnings.
fics
down comes the night make your own luck (district attorney jake)
drabbles and blurbs
extras
playlist mood board batman bob edit work song edit search the tag
anything marked with ⊹ contains smut | requests are open for blurbs. send in a prompt or an idea!
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foreverrandomwritings · 7 months ago
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Honey, Honey
Summary: Based off this ask for my Taste of Twenty-Five event. All the reasons Bob really loves his truck in chronological order.
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Afab!Reader
Warnings: Reader has a service dog for unspecified food allergy. Illness, death(not Bob or reader), swearing, the training exercise accident and smut at the end. MDNI 18+ only!
Word count: 6,560 (I got a bit carried away)
Masterlist M's Taste of Twenty-Five Masterlist
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Bob’s truck meant the world to him. He had been obsessed with it growing up. He’d ride around in the cab with his grandpa around town. They’d have the windows rolled down and would be listening to an old blues tape. The cup holders always had two cups of sweet tea in them. There was a picture of his nan in the visor and Bob always dreamt about having a picture of his future girl up there. His grandpa took great pride in his truck. Bob remembered all the times they would be in the garage with him handing him tools and turning over the key when he was told to.
“Can you hand me that wrench?” Bob grabbed the wrench quickly and handed it over to his grandpa. There had been a gurgling noise when they had run up town and when his grandpa asked Bob if he wanted to help find out the problem Bob jumped at the opportunity. 
“Bobby boy go ahead and turn it over for me.” His grandpa called from his place under the hood. 
“Okay pops.” Little Bobby wasn’t even tall enough to reach the pedals but he could reach the key. He jumped into the truck and pushed the key into the ignition. Excitement was coursing through his little body as he turned the key and the engine came to life. He loved that truck then because it was something him and his grandpa bonded over. 
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Then eventually his grandpa got sick and wasn’t able to drive the truck anymore and it sat and sat and sat. Until his grandpa passed away at the beginning of his junior year of high school. His grandpa had left the truck to Bob in his will. So Bob got a job as a busboy up in town that he would juggle between school and helping out on the farm. 
He saved up all his money and during the summer between junior year and senior year he fixed up the truck. He had it repainted the vibrant green it used to be. He had a strict schedule written down in a little notebook he kept in the glove box on when to change the oil, the tires and all the maintenance he’d done. He loved that truck then because it was a small piece of his grandpa he’d always have with him. 
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Then when he went off to college he had packed up the bed and made the solo trip with one of those old blues tapes and a glass of sweet tea in the cup holder. When nights would get stressful due to exams or work or missing home he’d climb into that truck and go driving, never having anywhere in mind. He’d flip that visor down and look at the blank spot where the picture of his nan used to be and dream of a day he could add his own picture up there. He loved the truck then because it was a piece of home. 
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Eventually that truck moved to and from different bases depending on where he was deployed. He never owned much so it was always easy to pack everything up in the bed and take those solo trips. He’d occasionally look in the passenger seat and wish there was someone there enjoying the old blues tapes that filled the glove box. He loved the truck then because of all the possibilities it made him hopeful for. 
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The first time he ever met you he’d been driving to the farmers market early one Saturday morning to get some groceries for the week. He always liked to be one of the first ones there as it was always quieter and he could go booth to booth at a good pace. There was also a booth with tea, coffee and baked goods that opened before all the others that he liked to go to first thing. 
He was only about ten minutes away when he spotted you. You were on the side of the road, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder staring at the smoke billowing out of your hood. He pulled over behind you and clumsily climbed out of the truck. He adjusted his glasses and made his way over to where you were standing. You weren’t alone either, you had a cute little gray and white pitbull sitting next to you that looked at him curiously upon his approach. One ear was mostly gone and its tail looked a bit short as well. Bob noticed he wore a service dog vest. 
“Please don’t put me on hold again.” Your voice was pleading but you let out a large huff of air, rubbing your fingers into your temple. Bob guessed whoever was on the other line had indeed put you on hold. Bob cleared his throat awkwardly and your eyes snapped open from where you had closed them. 
“Uhm. Hello?” You greeted him, he could see clear confusion on your face, which was very pretty he might add.
“I noticed you were having some trouble and I was wondering if I could help out in any way?” His hand was rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Oh. Do you happen to know anything about cars?” The look on your face now was pure hope. The dog beside you was wagging its tail but remained sitting in its spot. 
“I know a thing or two.” He responded and your eyes lit up. Something he decided he wanted to see again. When you started talking again he took that moment to take you in. You were in a pair of worn medium wash jeans with the ankles rolled up and a pair of mustard yellow vans adorning your feet. His eyes looked over your cream shirt where a picture of bees and a jar of honey and a honeycomb sat, with a logo on it; Honey Bee & Comb. 
“It started making a weird clunking noise and then it just started billowing smoke. I barely got it to the side of the road before it shut off. I’m on the phone with a towing company but they keep putting me on hold.” You looked utterly defeated. But Bob gave you a reassuring smile and told you to pop your hood. You did as he said and opened your door to pull the lever. He pulled the hood up, turning his face to the side as the smoke barreled out and fogged up his glasses. He propped it open and backed up a few steps where you were once again standing. 
“Looks like it’s overheated, I have a friend that owns a body shop. He could give you a tow. I can call him right now if you’d like?” Then there was that light in your eyes again. 
“Would you mind? That would really help me out. I’ve been on the phone with these guys for about thirty minutes now.” You waved the phone out in front of you dramatically. He assured you it was fine and pulled his own phone out and pulled up the contact. You hung up your phone and two rings later and the person on the other end answered. 
“Hey Shawn. Would you be able to head out here to Weston street? I have a woman here with me that’s got a broken down car.” You waited as the person responded, looking him over he was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, worn boots and a navy blue ford t-shirt with a flannel over it. You thought he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen. 
“Alright, I’ll see ya soon.” You quickly looked away as the blonde hung up so he wouldn’t catch you staring. 
“He said he’ll be here in fifteen.” He informed you as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Your shoulders sagged as you let out some of the stress. 
“Thank you so much….” You trailed off looking at him expectantly. 
“Robert.” He winced as he said it. Because he hasn’t had someone call him that in years. 
“Well thank you Robert.” His name rolled off your tongue and he almost groaned at how sweet it sounded. 
“I’m Y/N, this is Lewis.” You said gesturing to the dog who still sat in the same spot since Bob had walked up. Silence grew between you for a moment as you both stared at each other. 
“Where are you heading to?” Bob hoped you didn’t think he was a creep asking that. But you only gave him a smile and hooked a thumb over your shoulder pointing behind you. 
“Heading to the farmers market.” Bob lit up at the reply. 
“I’m heading that way as well.” You cocked your head and seemed to take him in once again. 
“Oh yea. I’ve seen you around. You’re one of the few early ones.” Bob nodded his head a blush dusting his cheeks and neck at the fact that you had noticed him. 
“Seems as though you are as well.” Though Bob hadn’t remembered seeing you before. 
“I have a booth there so it’s kind of implied that I get there early.” You didn’t seem disappointed that he hadn’t seen you. Which he was thankful for because he didn’t want to disappoint you. 
“What’s your booth?” His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to rack his brain. 
“I sell bee made products, honey, beeswax candles, chapstick and what not.” You waved your hand over your shirt and he finally made the connection. He’d seen your booth but had never gone over because his ma always sent him honey when she shipped him stuff from home. 
“Do you want to load your stuff into my truck? I can take you to the market since I’m already going there anyway.” He was really really hoping you would say yes. You fortunately told him yes and you both loaded up all your stuff into the bed of his truck. Lewis sat in the cab patiently as you loaded everything up. Shawn ended up coming shortly after and towed your car off. Reassuring you he’d have it looked at by the end of the day. In the ride to the market Bob informed you that Shawn was his front seater Michaels husband. 
After Bob helped you set up your booth even though you told him he didn’t need to worry about it. He offered to take you home as well, to which you thanked him and informed him that a friend of yours that had a booth would be taking you home. As you watched his face fall you had nervously asked him if he would like to go to dinner one night that week. He very quickly told you yes. You swapped numbers and then parted ways. He loved his truck that day because without it he probably wouldn’t have been able to help you. 
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On your first date he picked you and Lewis up in his truck. Where he had jumped out and rounded the hood to open your door for you. He had given you a bag of treats for Lewis and a compliment on how gorgeous you looked. You spoke about random things including how you had rescued Lewis from a local shelter and put him through service dog training for your food allergy, until you got to the restaurant. Dinner went amazingly and before you both knew it you were in his truck heading back to your house. 
The windows were rolled down and you were humming along to the blues tape that was playing quietly. The cool autumn air was whipping through your hair but you didn’t seem to mind. Even when it got stuck in your chap-stick that coated your lips. When he came around to open the door for you again and you stepped out you asked him very sweetly if you could kiss him and he sheepishly nodded his head. Then he proceeded to lean you up against the truck and kiss you both utterly breathless. He loved the truck then because it was where he had found the feeling of home again in the form of you. 
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You’d been dating a few months at this point. He had awkwardly asked you one day if you wanted to go steady with him. Your cheeks had gotten all warm and you gave him a sweet smile and a soft peck on the lips. Then you told him you’d love to go steady with him. The both of you had gotten into a routine of him coming to pick you up and take you to the farmers market on weekend mornings when he wasn’t deployed. 
This particular Sunday had been going like every other one had. You sat in your seat with Lewis between you though he was mostly laying on your lap. You’d picked out an old blues tape and had popped it into the stereo. You were petting Lewis on the head absentmindedly and occasionally sipping on your glass of sweet tea that was held in your other hand. 
You just passed by the spot you’d first met each other and a small smile formed on your lips. Your eyes turned to look at Bob to see him already glancing at you. Your eyes lit up and your smile got bigger and he felt his chest tighten and before he knew it he was spilling out three little words that made you feel like your bees at home were swarming in your stomach. 
“I love you.” He looked at you wide eyed once he realized what he had said. Was it too soon? Would you say it back? Would you leave him? Wait, why were you laughing? The sound of your laugh flowed through him and had him blinking slowly as he stopped at a stop sign and stared at you in bewilderment. 
“I love you too Bob.” You told him before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He took a deep breath and tried to hide the blush that was taking over his face by looking back at the road. But from the way you were looking at him he knew that you saw it. He loved the truck then because you loved him. 
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You and Lewis came and picked him up in his truck after one of his deployments. Your car had been acting up again and Bob had insisted you use his truck while he was gone. You knew how much the truck meant to him so you made sure to take great care of it while he was away. You drove the three of you back to your house where Bob had moved into before he left for deployment. Lewis laid in his lap and he pet the dog on the head as he admired how breathtaking you looked driving his truck. 
Once you got home you and Bob reacquainted yourselves with each other before starting on dinner. You had thought you’d had all the ingredients for said dinner but had forgotten to pick up one thing from the store. Bob offered to run up the street to grab it and you told him you could make something else but he assured you that he was up for the short trip. Lewis went with him because he didn’t wanna leave his side. Plus in the safety of your home you didn’t need to worry about your food allergy. 
The sun was still shining so he flipped the visor down and was pleasantly surprised to see a Polaroid picture of you and Lewis in the bed of his truck. You had a large smile on your lips and Lewis had his head tilted to the camera in an absolutely adorable way. Bob couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. 
“I’m gonna marry her one day.” He told Lewis who responded with a soft bark and wag of his tail. Bob loved his truck then because he finally had a picture of you in the place he always wanted one. 
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Bob had been super secretive and awkward for a couple of weeks now. You hadn’t thought much of it though, you trusted him more than you trusted anyone else so you figured he had a good reason for the way he was acting. When he asked if you would like to accompany him and Lewis on a secret date you had enthusiastically told him yes. So you had both driven out to a field that Bob had found one day on a hike that was accessible by vehicle as well. 
He made you sit in the cab as he and Lewis got everything set up in the bed of the truck. Why he needed Lewis’ help was lost on you but you just shrugged and took in the view around you. It was such a pretty spot and you understood why Bob loved it so much. You climbed out of the truck when Bob called for you. You gasped when you saw what he had set up. He had laid out a bunch of blankets and pillows. A variety of foods and drinks were spread around. He had lined the side rails with strings of lights. Bob asked you to sit next to Lewis so you did and then noticed he had something in his mouth. 
“What do you have there, boy?” You asked him, holding out your hand waiting for him to drop whatever it was. But what you weren’t expecting was a ring box. You turned to Bob with wide eyes only to see him down on one knee and a nervous smile on his face. 
“I have been completely head over heels for you since the first day I saw you on the side of the road. I couldn’t imagine my life without you honey. Would you go steady with me for the rest of our lives?” The flashback to him asking if you wanted to go steady had you giggling as tears streamed down your face. You couldn’t get any words out so you resorted to nodding your head frantically. 
He reached out a hand and you handed him the box. He opened it to get the ring out and you sobbed at how perfect it was. It was absolutely everything you wanted in a ring. He slipped it onto your finger and as soon as it was settled you were pulling him towards you. Your lips crashed against his and you could feel the mix of yours and his tears in the kiss but you didn’t mind.
“I love you so much Robert.” Slipped out of your lips when you finally pulled away. 
“I love you too Honey.” He whispered to you and then peppered your face in kisses. The rest of the night went by spectacularly, you had dinner and the three of you cuddled up and watched the stars for hours. Bob sat against the truck with you between his legs and Lewis between your own. Your head laid on his shoulder then your breath evened out and he loved his truck then because you said yes. 
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You guys had decided to have a small wedding. It was his friends Michael and Shawn whom you had grown close to. Your friend who took you home that first day you and Bob met was ordained so they married the two of you. And of course there was Lewis. You decided for your honeymoon you’d drive up to finally meet his family. 
Which is exactly what you did. Even though you’d met them through FaceTime and phone calls you’d never met them in person. You knew how much they meant to Bob so you were buzzing with excitement the whole way to Lima, Montana. 
Everything was going smoothly. You left early Saturday morning hoping to get there by Saturday night. It was Bob's turn to nap so he was. His head was on a pillow leaning against the window on the door. Lewis had his head in his lap and was sleeping as well. Then suddenly Bob was being woken up with a gentle touch on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open slowly and grabbed his glasses from the dash before finally focusing on you. When his eyes landed on your face he was suddenly fully awake. You had silent tears streaming down your face and looked at him fearfully. 
“What’s wrong honey?” He asked you softly, reaching out to grab your hand. When he got ahold of it he felt you shaking and that only worried him more. He looked around quickly and noticed you were pulled over on the side of a back road. 
“I’m sorry.” Was all you said with a sad voice. 
“What’re you sorry for?” You looked down at where your hands were intertwined and mumbled out your reply. 
“We have a flat tire and a large scratch down the side of the truck.” He furrowed his brow at you in confusion because when in the hell did that happen? 
“What happened honey?” He unbuckled his seat belt and scooted closer to you causing Lewis to switch him seats. 
“Just come and look.” You told him and opened your door climbing out and he followed you. When he got out and saw the large scratch in the green paint down the side of the truck he couldn’t stop the gasp that slipped through his lips. A sob left your own mouth and his eyes quickly found you again.
“I’m really sorry, I was following behind a truck and he had a bunch of stuff in his bed. I thought I was far enough back that if anything flew out I wouldn’t be within range of being hit. But a piece of barbed wire came out and I just couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. It popped the tire and scratched up the side.” You took a deep breath before continuing, your fingers danced along the scratched paint sadly. “I know how much you love this truck. I really love it too and I’m so so sorry that this happened.” 
“Oh honey.” He said softly, taking you in his arms and kissing your head. He breathed in the smell that was uniquely you and took a moment to gather his thoughts. 
“It’s okay honey, we’ll put the spare on and once we get to my parents we’ll go into town and get them to replace the tires. Then we’ll have Shawn fix the paint when we get home. I’m just happy that we are all safe, you handled the situation perfectly.” He ran his hand down your back as you calmed your crying. You guys then changed to the spare Bob had been thoughtful enough to pack in the bed. You got into town late and met his family who all completely adored you. 
The next day you went into town to the only mechanics there was. You paced the lobby until they came out with the keys and told you everything was taken care of and you were good to go. You practically ran out to the truck and Bob loved the truck then because you loved it just as much. 
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When Bob had gone down in the training exercise with Phoenix he hadn’t planned on telling you until after the mission. Which may have sounded awful because you were his wife after all. But he just didn’t want you to worry over nothing. However what he didn’t know was that Maverick had called to inform you and that you were on your way up to see him. 
He was in the middle of a conversation with Phoenix, whom he was sharing a room with when he heard familiar tapping of claws in the hallway. Before he could process what exactly that meant Lewis came bolting into the room and jumped onto his bed. Then you came running in behind him. He stared at you with wide eyes as you ran up to him and cupped his face looking him over for injury. 
“Honey, what’re you doing here?” He blinked at you slowly as he started to pet Lewis’ head. 
“Someone named Maverick called, he told me your plane had gone down during an exercise today. I was worried and just needed to see you. I also figured you wouldn’t tell me until you got back home and I couldn’t handle waiting. I need to see with my own eyes that you were alright.” It was a light scolding but he still blushed nonetheless. Then you gave him a soft kiss and stood back up. 
“How’s Michael, Shawn and the babies?” You knew he was changing the subject to avoid you scolding him anymore. But you let him do it anyway. Plus talking about his previous front seater and his new family members would cheer you both up. When Michael’s contract came back up he had decided not to reenlist because he and his husband Shawn were in the process of adopting and it would be an easier transition if Michael was a stay at home dad. 
“They are doing amazing. Michael is slowly adjusting to no longer being in the service, Shawn is glad to have him home. The triplets have been a handful since they picked them up from the hospital. They are all absolutely adorable, especially Robert.” Your smile was bright as you told him a bit more about the family. They had named one of two boys after him.  Then when you stopped talking you finally turned to the other person in the room. She looked terrified when your eyes met her own. 
“You’re Phoenix right? His front seater for this mission?” She glanced between you and Bob and Bob gave her a small nod. 
“Uhm yes. I-I’m really sor-.” But before she could finish her guilt ridden apology you were right next to her bed. 
“Are you okay? Do you need me to call anyone for you?” She choked on air at the way you were now dotting on her. She looked at Bob and he had a wide smile on his face and adoration in his eyes. 
“I’m okay. I called my fiancé already, so she knows I’m okay.” Bob looked sheepish as you both turned to glare at him when she said that. 
“Can I hug you?” You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, you just really felt the need to comfort her.  
“Uh yes.” She stuttered out and then she was wrapped up in your arms. She hadn’t realized she really needed a hug until then. You held her until she let go. 
“Thank you for keeping my husband safe.” You told her after pulling away. As Bob looked at you he loved his truck because it brought him, you. 
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A couple of weeks after the mission the dagger Squad were all given the option of moving to Fightertown permanently. They would be their own squad indefinitely. Bob had asked you immediately what your thoughts were. He wasn’t sure you’d go for it since your life was in Lemoore. But you assured him you’d love to move there if he would. Because he didn’t have a front seater in Lemoore. Plus from what he had told you the rest of the Dagger Squad worked beautifully together once they got over bad blood. 
So you guys took a couple weeks to pack up then you were heading off to Fightertown. You had your bees in the bed of the truck, a whole bunch of things in the U-Haul hitched to the truck. All the bigger items had been picked up by the navy movers. You’d decided to sell your junk ass car to Shawn who was gonna fix it up and sell it at his shop. You’d also promised to come back and visit them often, as well as your friends and family that lived there. Selling your house in Lemoore and buying a house with plenty of land in Fightertown had been surprisingly easy. 
“Lewis is gonna have quite the time getting to know everyone and getting allocated to a new home. You said that Mav’s girlfriend has a dog right?” The only part of this you were nervous about was Lewis. Since you’d had him you’d only ever lived in one place. He had made friends at your local dog park as well as other dogs that had been in your service dog training courses. 
“Yea, his name is Theo. I think they’ll get along great. Plus I think Lewis will love Paybacks kids. We could also go to one of the shelters in town and find him a friend.” Bob had been doing a search for another dog already but he just hadn’t told you. He’d even found a dog that you guys could go and pick up in a week. She was a pitbull lab mix that had been surrendered by her previous owners because they were moving and claimed they couldn’t take her with them. Funnily enough her name was Bee, which Bob thought you would absolutely adore. 
You started to excitedly rant about how amazing it would be to get another dog. Then about how excited you were to meet everyone. Bob glanced at you and saw the way the sun was shining through the window on your face. You looked like a dream and Bob couldn’t help but love that his truck was taking you both to a future that held so many possibilities for the both of you. 
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Bob didn’t really understand what had gotten into you but you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off him. You’d had dinner with Phoenix and her fiancé which had become a regular occurrence. Phoenix and her fiancé had taken extreme care in the food they prepared so you hadn’t worried about bringing Lewis and Bee. Your eyes however hadn’t left his form all night. Every time he’d glance at you he’d find your eyes already glued to him. When you were saying goodbye to the duo you’d made it quick and were dragging Bob out of their house.  
Now here you were with a hand down his pants slowly stroking his cock and sucking bruises into the skin of his neck. He was concentrating very hard on keeping control of the truck on the road. You weren’t very far from your house which he was grateful for. He let out a low moan as you ran your thumb along the tip of his cock and gathered the precum that was leaking from it. 
“Honey.” He muttered out, you nipped at his neck gently before pulling away and looking at him with lust filled eyes. He groaned as he took in the sight of your swollen lips. 
“We’re almost home Bob, just pay attention to the road.” So that’s what he did: he kept both hands on the steering wheel and both eyes on the road as you resumed your assault on his neck. Your hand continued to slowly pump his cock, your thumb brushing the tip every so often. A low moan would leave his lips every time. 
When he turned onto the long gravel driveway lined by trees that lead back to your house your hand slipped out of his pants, you unbuckled your seat belt and positioned yourself so you were kneeling on the seat. You worked quickly to unzip his pants and pull his boxers down enough to slip his cock free. Your hand then was replaced by your lips and he couldn’t help himself as one of his hands left the steering wheel and found its way into your hair. He helped guide you up and down his length. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat before pulling up and going back down. 
The truck came to a stop as he rolled up to the front of the house and his hand left your hair to shift it into park. He fumbled to snatch the keys out and slip them into his pocket. His head tipped back as your tongue swirled around his tip. He muttered your name quietly, not really sure what he was asking for. He felt himself getting close but he wasn’t ready for this to be over just yet so he gently guided your mouth away from his cock. When you were sitting up his lips met your own in a rushed pace, he was eager to taste your lips and moaned at the taste of him on your tongue as you slipped it passed his lips. 
“Bob, please.” The request was a whisper on your lips as you pulled away. He knew what you were asking for without you needing to say anything. 
“Take off your pants honey.” He slipped his cock back into his underwear but kept his pants unzipped. He fumbled while opening his door before stumbling out and watching with hooded eyes as you maneuvered out of your shoes and pants and threw them on the floor of the truck. 
He took a second to take in how pretty you looked, your hair a mess, lips swollen, a wet patch forming on your underwear from how aroused you were. The look of complete lust on your face had his control slipping. He grabbed both of your ankles and yanked your body toward him. Your ass was on the edge of the seat.  His hands found your panties and slipped them down your legs and tucked them into the pocket of his jeans. You were practically vibrating in anticipation as you waited for him to make a move. 
Right as you opened your mouth to beg for his touch he was on you. His tongue slipped between your folds, one of your hands shot for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as a loud moan left your mouth. He was bent over at the hips and his knees were slightly bent but he didn’t care that he’d probably wake up a bit sore from the awkward angle. All he cared about was that you tasted sweeter than the slice of cheesecake you’d shared for dessert. Really you tasted better than anything he could ever imagine. So he told you so, pulling his mouth away he replaced his tongue with his fingers, slipping them in and out of you languidly. 
“Fuck honey, you taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever had before.” He sucked a bruise into your thigh leaving a feather light kiss over it. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever find anything sweeter than you. Love you so much. ” He sucked a bruise into the inside of your other thigh, running his tongue over the skin to soothe it. You weren’t sure if the cry of his name leaving your lips was because of the words he was whispering or because of the way his mouth found its way back to your cunt. His lips found your clit and sucked on it delicately. His fingers curled and found that spot in you that had you letting out a mumbled string of curses. 
“Bobby, feels so good.” You whined as his tongue flicked your clit. “So close, I-I-I’m so close.” The words were barely making any sense but you hoped he understood. Your fingers that were still in his hair gripped tighter and with one more curl of his fingers you hit your climax and felt like you were flying, your hips had a mind of their own as they bucked against his face. Your legs tightened around his head and he took his time cleaning up every drop of cum you’d given him. 
When your legs finally relaxed, your hand leaving his head he pulled away and gave you a soft smile. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed soothing circles on your thighs with his thumbs and was about to suggest going inside before you whined a request at him. 
“Need you inside me.” You sounded utterly spent but who was he to deny you what you wanted. So he pulled his aching cock out of his boxers, situated himself at your entrance and as your legs wrapped around him he sunk into you. You both let out equally blissed moans as you settled into the feeling of euphoria. 
“You feel so fucking tight honey.” His country drawl was thick as he groaned out the words. His hair was sticking up all over the place and his glasses were crooked, his lips and chin were still wet with your arousal and suddenly you couldn’t stand being so far from him so you quickly sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He wrapped his own around your thighs and pulled you out of the truck. You were thankful you’d kept your shirt on as he leaned you against the side of the truck all while staying seated inside you.  
“Gonna move now.” He whispered to you before burying his face in your neck. He pulled himself almost all the way out and then thrust back in. It didn’t take him long to find a steady rhythm that felt good for the both of you. Your clit was getting a delightful friction everytime he moved and you were squeezing around him in a way that made him feel a little dizzy. 
“Bob, Bob.” His name fell from your lips like a prayer and the glasses wearing aviator almost fell to his knees as you slipped a hand into his hair and brought his lips to your own. They meshed together in a familiar dance, soft and practiced, yet still taking his breath away like the first time you’d kissed. His hands were squeezing your thighs as your tongues met each other and he swallowed the moan you let out as his thrusts began to stutter. 
His lungs needed to fill back up with air so he pulled away from your lips, nipping the bottom one with his teeth as he went. A whine left you at the loss of him. But he soothed you with sweet nothings as he got closer and closer to his climax. His forehead rested against yours. 
“Honey. I’m gonna, oh fuck, I’m gonna.” He could barely get the words out, but he wanted you to cum first. He was already so close from the edging you’d given him on the way home. 
“I’m close bob, m’gonna cum. Wanna feel you cum.” Your words were breathy and sounded like a plea. Your walls squeezed around him and he couldn’t stop it as his orgasm ripped through him. Your own following soon after. The both of you stood wrapped in each other's arms for a few moments, soaking in the feeling of being with one another.
The barking of your dogs from inside had you finally separating. Bob hissed slightly as he pulled out of you. He reached inside the truck and grabbed your pants and shoes before closing the door of the truck and walking you up to the porch. He set you down and let you slip your pants back on and take your shoes. Then you slipped the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. He turned and looked back, one thought in his mind as he shut the door behind him, he really loved that truck.
A/N: Thank you so so so so so much for being so patient while I got this done. I had such an amazing time writing this! Might've been just what I needed to get back into the groove of writing!
Taglist: @wkndwlff @sylviebell @kmc1989 @teacupsandtopgun @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming
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floydsglasses · 6 months ago
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𝙒𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝘿𝙖𝙬𝙣 - Robert "Bob" Floyd ( A Quiet Place AU)
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Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x AFAB OC/ Camille SUMMARY: It was a simple trip, go back into the city and get supplie's. Stay quiet to keep the monsters at bay, and get what they needed, both of them had stuck together since day one of the new world, swearing to not leave each other till the end. Those who dare to mess with either of them will learn the hard way.
Tags: Post apocalyptic setting, Established relationships, mentions of blood and wounds, revenge, bob basically going through it (Sorry), death, kidnapping, implied pregnancy, soft fluff, men being pervy (Srry) angst, implied m3rder, torture, swearing, self defense killing. Use of ASL
A/N SORRY FOR THIS ONE, I dont actually like this ending, im also dedicating this to mamachasemayehm, im so sorry for all that has happened to you I wish you all the best ❤️
WORD COUNT: 9,824
⏁⏁⏁ THE EDGE OF the wave’s crashed at the end’s of her feet. The sun setting painted the sky in a range of pink, orange and blue, she smiled looking up at the cloud’s, sighing in content. She counted herself lucky to be someone that was living in safety miles away from the city.
She wasn't even sure how dangerous the city is, she knows the monster’s that hunt by sound, that are the cause of the destruction she has witnessed. They were scary, they ruled the world. Only good thing about this new world was that she had him
She dug her bare feet into the sand, the soft damp texture between her toes. She held her knees to her chest, her ebony hair held in a tight ponytail with strands of hair loose around her face.
“Hey.” A soft deep voice spoke up, she looked over her shoulder. She gave a small wave at him turning back to the water. His shadow cast onto the sand next to her, he sighs as he take’s the same position as her.
“How are you feeling?” He asked her, she shrugged in response. “Better I think.” She admits, he nodded his head, the sun reflecting off his glasses.
“Do you wanna go to infirmary?” Bob ask’s her, she shakes her head. “No it’s just food not agreeing with me.” She reassured him.
“Are you sure? We don't have to do this trip if you aren't feeling it.” He tells her, the same sweet nature he had kept since the day they met. A smile creeped onto her face as she couldn't help herself.
“We can always make Rooster do the trip.” He suggests to her, she smirks, shaking her head. “You know you don't have to call him that anymore.” She mentions, he shrugged.
“Force of habit.” He says simply, she tap’s the damp sand. “I’m gonna be okay, and not to sound cocky but.”
“We are better at supply trip’s than Bradshaw.” Cami say’s with a smug smile, he shook his head.
“Oh so you can call him that but I can't call him Rooster?” He point’s out, and she shrugged again. “Well yeah.” She says with an obvious tone.
He playfully rolls his eyes. “Oh.” She perk’s up.
“Do you have your knife on you?” She wonder’s, his brows furrowed in confusion at her question.
“Why?” He asks simply.
“I wanna show you something.” She tells him, he reached around in his jean pockets, pulling out his tanto point knife, the deep oak wood glistening in the sunlight that shone on the beach. She took it from him standing up.
“Okay I wanna teach you this.” Cami told him, he raised a brow. “You need to know this, if someone catches you off guard.” She flip’s the blade around in her hand, catching it with one hand.
“Are you sure this is safe?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.
“No but I don't think you'll get hurt.” She assure’s him, she extends her hand pulling up onto his feet. She stands next to the water, twirling the knife in one hand.
“Alright, I'm a bad guy with a knife. I run at you, what do you do?” She asks him. He stammered for an answer.
“Run the other way.” He answered unsure.
“No.well yes, but not in this situation.” Cami tells him, she shakes her head.
“I corner you, what do you do?” She questions, he smirks looking her up and down.
“Well if you corner me, I think you have an idea what would happen.” He teases her with a soft smile. Her face grew red, she shook her head. “I…I'll stop that.” She say's trying hide her smile. “Okay I'm sorry.” He laughs, she steps closer than him.
“You get cornered, someone swings at you.” She speaks slowly as she lifts up the blade. She takes his right wrist, bringing it to her’s.
“You grab my wrist, tight like this and you.” She instructs him, turning around with a knife in her hand now aimed at her face. Her back pressed against his chest, warming him from the heat of her body.
“They're gonna try and fight back against you, if that happens and you're against the wall.” She continued as she pressed further against him, his heart raced. “You use it.”
“The wall is your friend, hold yourself as tight as you can to it, and then use your free hand.” Cami order’s, she shovels herself off him.
“And you stab them.” She explains, “You understand?” She asks him.
“Alright now you try.” Cami tells him, his brow’s furrowed. “Are you serious?” He ask’s her, she nods her head.
“Yes, I want to make sure you know this.” She says, he looked down at the knife in her hand. She drops it, noticing his stare’s.
“We can do it without the knife.” She assure him. He shakes his shoulders, loosening himself up. She swing’s at him, he grunts as he grabs her wrist. Copying the same move, her back pressed hard against him as he held her wrist with both of his hands.
“Like this?” He ask’s her, she smirks looking down at his arm’s, the veins popping with how tight he holds her.
“More or less.” She answered. “You forgot one thing though.” She points out, his brows furrowed.
“What? What did I do wr-” She sweep’s his leg’s out from under him, he grunts as he falls onto the sand.
He coughs as he looks up at the pink and blue sky. She gets on top of his hip’s, holding both of his wrists, smirking with victory. He groans as he blinks, bit’s of sand on the lens of his glasses blocking his vision.
“You didn't plant your feet.” Cami whispered, he shakes his head, the world spinning around him as he collects himself.
“Oh.” He groans. She removes her hand’s from his wrist, his arm’s laying out in a t-pose. She sits up, her leg’s still stradling him as the sun illuminated her shadow on the sand.
“Are you okay?” She wonder’s with a soft chuckle, he groaned in response.
“Super.” He grit’s at him, she shakes her head at his sarcasm.
“I'm sorry I just like seeing you this way.” Cami told him, he smirked with his brow raised.
“On my back? He wonders.
“Maybe.” She says, she leaned forward caressing his cheek as she brought her lip’s to his, smiling into the kiss as his hands gently held her waist. She inhaled pulling away, her knees digging into the sand.
“If my head wasnt spinning this would be pretty nice.” He comment’s, she smile’s shaking her head, removing herself from him, extending her hand for him to take. Both of them get to their feet turning around walking back.
⏁⏁⏁
SHE HOLDS her jacket close to herself, winter was bitterly ending and she could feel its effects as they both walked down the desolate street of what used to be San Diego.  Her body covered in chill’s as she desperately tried to keep her warm on the inside, she didn't want to admit to Bob. She was tired, not exhausted. 
Both of them had left at sunrise for the island, they knew it was gonna take a day or two to get what they needed for the couple hundred people on the island. There was already so much pressure on them she didn't want him to worry about her. 
A tap on her shoulders makes her turn her head. Bob pushed up his glasses showing her the pocket map of San Diego, showing her the key for the next place for them to raid. 
“How far is that?” Cami asked him, both of them already knew Sign Language before the world ended, she had taken deaf education at her college and taught kids. Him on the other hand learned it just because he wanted to. 
“Just up the corner.” He tells her, she nods her head.  “How are you feeling?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head. 
“Cold. But I’ll be fine.” She sign’s, he nods his head. “If you want to stop, take a minute we can.” He tells her, she shakes her head. 
“I'm fine, we have to do this.” She says, determination in her eye’s. He furrowed confused on why she was so set on getting supply’s.  
“Where else do we have to go?” She changes the subject. 
He sighed looking up at the cloudy skies, hoping it was going to rain so they could whisper to each other.  “Pharmacy.” He signs. 
“Excellent, what do we need?” She wonder’s, he pulls out a small notepad from his backpack. He was better prepared than her.  “Find painkillers, needles and bandages.” 
“And condoms apparently.” He smirks, hiding his laugh with a soft smile. She shook her head at their grocery list.  
“Stolen again?” Cami ask’s, he shrugs. 
“It wasn't me.” He clarifies, she raises a brow. “I didn't think it was.” She signed, his lips parted in o shape. 
“There's nothing you wanna tell the class, Bob?” She teases him, he playfully roll’s his blue eyes. 
“Shut up.” He signs. 
It was pure luck that she found him. Both of them met right at the start of day one, she was supposed to be meeting a guy for a date. He was there as well, she didn't think someone quite like him would be at a restaurant as nice as the one she was at.  They both started up a conversation with each other, then everything went down. 
One of the alien’s had crashed through the window of the restaurant, he had shielded her from the glass, and she had distracted them when they had to run away from the sound seeking creature’s.  Both of them agreed to stick together, having been that way for the last two years. They stop in front of a small pharmacy, its sign swinging gently in the wind, the window to the door broken as bit’s and pieces of the building hang out. She wondered what it may have been like for locals to have a pharmacy around the corner pharmacy. 
“Do you want me to get you something? Do you need anything?” Bob wonder’s, she shakes her hand. “Just get what we need, I'll be okay.” Cami reasure’s him, she appreciated his concern but it was starting to feel smothering.
She carefully step’s over the glass, being sure to not step on anything. 
She looked at the broken sign on the ground, while Bob grabbed pill bottle’s carefully. She was on a mission for something of her own. She felt in her stomach what felt like a cramp, she hoped that it was that so her hunt for feminine products would soon be over. Cami avoided the small mirror’s,her hair was greasy it almost made her happy no one but him could see her. She checked the scattered shelves, a neon pink package with the word’s, Tampax made her smile, happily snatching it up. Stuffing it away in her bag. 
Her brown eyes stop on a bright blue box, the world's First Response in bold font. She looked over the shelves grabbing it, shoving it down her bag. She touches her braid nervously looking around her. He turned around the corner, a white pill bottle in his hand and a water bottle in the other. 
“What is that?” She asks him. He turned the bottle around showing her the label, Advil. She nod’s her head, he takes out two, handing them to her. “Got what you need?” Cami asks him, downing the small red pills with water.  He shakes his head.  
“I need to look in the back.” He tells her. 
“Insulin and needles aren't usually kept in the front.” She reminds him. She shivers, holding her arm’s close to herself, walking past the counter.
A Hand written sign with the word’s, ‘Back in Five minute’s’ The irony behind it. 
Her tom lightly taps the floor. She had to trade out her sneakers for lightweight footwear, she was lucky enough to not have to be barefoot in this world. She couldn't imagine how it would be for someone living in their new world with no shoe’s. 
She was very privileged to be on the island; a year ago she and Bob had been hunkering down in a beach house when they heard the song. “Beyond the Sea” playing on their radio, Bob was able to trace the signal of the radio tower to a distant island. The wind outside howled loudly. 
He looks at the shelves for the medical supplies. Looking between the shelves watching the dark haired woman, her hair done in a single braid, the rest of her hair tucked away in a gray beanie.
He stop's in his trail, feeling a thick liquid beneath the sole’s of his feet, he slowly looked down, a pool of red, he covered his mouth as his heart fell to his stomach. 
His hand shake’s as he follows the blood trail, the white tile on the pharmacy coated in a thick line of brown and red.  His eyes widened as he looked down, a man with green eyes stared at him lifeless, holding his side as it leaked out onto the floor. The gash was deep, not from the talon’s of the creature’s. 
He looked closer at the deceased man, Bob could see several wound’s to man’s torso. His chest rose up and down as tears came to his eyes. 
He gasped as he feel’s an arm around his shoulders, Cami looked at him fearfully. 
“What is it?” She asked him, he pointed at the wall. Her heart skipped a beat as goosebumps flooded her body.  She gagged holding her mouth as a queasy feeling overcame her suddenly, she turned on her feet walking out the opened alley door. 
She emptied the contents of her stomach onto the wet concrete, she coughed as she kept reacting,he held her braid away from her face as she finished. Cami groaned softly, wiping her mouth leaning on the wall. “I'm okay.” Cami reassures him. Her brows furrowed as she tapped him on the arm, pointing down the alley.
Both of them look at each other then at the dumpster where a man with blonde hair in a mullet, holding a bowie knife coated in fresh blood that dripped onto the ground. He slowly looked up at the couple. 
Bob holds out his hand up in surrender, holding his arm to shield Cami from the possible threat. His lip quivered as his eyes stared at them widened, his breath shaky.  
The both of them could understand clearly what had happened. The man looked to the sky, inhaling deeply. Bob shake’s his head pleading with him silently, Cami stood up grabbing his hand with a tight grip. Their breathing shaky with fear. 
He looked at them one last time, determination fiery in his eyes. He opened his mouth a scream of agony, echoing off the city wall’s and back to them. 
Cami take’s Bob’s hand as they both sprint away. Their heart’s pounding as blood rushes from their heads, quickly and desperate to get far as they could from the inevitable. Bob gasps as he slip’s on a puddle collapsing to the ground, scrambling to get to his feet. 
Cami huff’s as she puts all of her weight on him, holding his mouth to keep quiet. His blue eye’s shadow over with tears as they are forced to listen to the inhumane crie’s filling the air. Glasse’s shatter’s once more as the hears the final blow from the creature.
⏁⏁⏁
THE FIRE CRACKLED and popped, the rain outside patterned away heavily on the roof of the abandoned home. Photos had since fallen off the wall, notebook paper with crayola drawing turning yellow, sometimes she would look at home’s like this and wonder what it may have been like.  Were they a big happy family that celebrated holidays with each other each year or was it a happy facade that hid away at the crack’s of the broken family. 
Bob look’s up from his book, neither of them were really speaking with each other. She didn't have much to say, her mind kept slinking back to the day’s events. She hadn't realized how bad things were in the city, how naive the both of them were. 
He takes a seat next to her on her sleeping bag on the floor. She held her knees against her chest as thunder rumbled outside. He leaned over to his bag, pulling out a small blue ipod with a spongebob sticker on it. 
He pulled out the wired headphones, untangling them.  “You brought that with you?” She asked him, he nodded. 
“Why wouldn't I?” He whisper’s, her lip’s form a thin line.  
“I just thought that it was too precious to bring with you.” Cami points out, the light from the fireplace illuminated his shadow onto the ceiling fan. 
“I didn't really bring it for myself.” He tells her. Thunder rumbled outside as he handed it over to her, she licked her lip playing with the button’s. 
“I know you like music to calm down.” He says, the screen lit up with a click of her thumb, she sighed sadly. He had found it during the first few weeks of the apocalypse, hunkering down in an electronics store in downtown San Diego. Most of the music left on the device being from 70’s to 2000’s, 
She clicks recently played songs. Hovering over the button. She wiped her face, her body felt fatigued.  
“I’m so tired.” She mumbled touching her braid, his brow furrowed in concern. “What is going on with you?” Bob wonders. 
“It's nothing, it's just ..been a long day, and you know it.” Cami dismissed. He bit his lip, she was downplaying her own problem and he wished that she wasn't. He didn't care much about how much they were able to pack away, he just wanted her to feel better. 
“Yeah I get that but you have been this way the last few days.” He point’s out, she shakes her head. 
“It’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine tomorrow.” Cami reasure’s. His gaze on her softened, the light of the fire reflected onto her face.  “I just don't.” He stuttered. 
“I don't want to see you get hurt.” He admitted, his deep voice cracking at the end. Her eyes darted as she looked at him  “Cause what If I end up like that guy in the alley?” He wonder’s. 
“You're not..you won't.” Cami shake’s her head, her voice smooth. she brings her hand’s to his cheek gently caressing him. 
“I don't want to.. I don't want to have to do what he did.” Bob says softly, she brings her lip’s to his forehead, holding him closely as he wraps his arms around her shoulders holding her closely, the warmth of the fire radiating from the couple. 
“You won't ever have to do that.” She whispered in his ear. “I promise.”  Her voice silky virated against him. He sighed into her shoulder, her hand’s trailed from his face to his shoulders holding him close, inhaling his scent of cypress. Still embracing they lay next to each other, with a free hand he grabs the ipod, his finger’s untangling the white wire’s. Placing one of the earbuds in her over-covered ear, clicking on the center button starting the music.
The soft guitar of Neil Young’s Harvest Moon play’s in her ear. Camile sighed in content, letting herself succumb to the fatigue that flooded her. The rain outside continued heavily, he kept her close, feeling her heart steadying as she fell asleep. 
⏁⏁⏁
THE FIRE died as the night went on, his broken watch showing the time, 12:09AM.  He couldn't bring himself to sleep, no matter how much he shut his eyes he kept seeing the man in the alley. The way his hands shook as he stared at the both of them, it was haunting to him how the man simply let himself die, not being able to live with what he had done. 
The rain had stopped, which did not settle his nerve’s knowing that it set him up for more danger. Behind him he can hear his girlfriend shuffle in her sleeping bag, on her lip’s a soft smile laid, dreaming about anywhere but where they were. 
During the day, he saw the color in her face slowly become sickly pale, draining the russet color from her. The bead of sweat she wiped away, saying she was just hot from the sun, he knew was a lie. He wanted to help, and she was too stubborn to admit she needed it, he sighed leaning over to his bag pulling out his notebook ripping out a spare sheet. Writing with his pen,  
“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Doodling a smile with glasses, he smirked to himself at his own cheesiness. He set it down on his pillow in her peripheral sight, he hoped she didn't wake up early, he leaned over kissing her on the forehead. 
He wanted to reassure her he would be back, but he couldn't talk. He picked up the messenger bag with cans they had collected, tip toeing on the floor before getting out the front door. He walked through the vacant neighborhood passing by the overturned cars and abandoned bicycle’s. 
He had witnessed the horror of day one of their new normal. The way the creature’s moved at the slightest sound, the clicking that came from their flower petal head’s that he had only caught glimpse of.
This world was dangerous, scary and depressing. It would be much more difficult to do it alone, it scared him what may have happened if he had chosen not to be in that restaurant that day, would he be dead like everyone else? 
He stepped inside the pharmacy, being only a five minute walk must have been a godsend to the people. He avoided the glass on the floor, the backdoor lightly swinged as the wind outside howled.  
He looked at the blue signs that hung above the isle’s, flu and cold. His finger’s trailed on the cool metal as he read each box and bottle. He wasn't sure on which one would be the most effective, beginning to grab any that said Extra on them. A snap pulled him out of his focus, his heart dropped to his stomach at the sudden sound. He patted his side for his knife, it hidden away in his sheath. His initials etched into the brown leather, cami had taken the time to stitch in a feather for him. 
He rounded the corner of the isle’s. Scanning over the label of a bottle,  Maybe it’s allergies and she is just— He gasped as a cloth clasped down over his mouth, muffling his pant’s of terror, he desperately reached for his knife, his arms held behind his back. 
He grunted, thrashing back and forth trying to get out. His eyes darted back and forth, two men with their mouths covered by bandana’s. Other two stood off their faces covered as they stared at him down.  He groaned as his face met the wet pavement of the street.  
On his lower back, he can feel a weight pressed deep. One of the men scoffed, looking him up down, predator and prey.  He bends down, his dirty fingernails caressing his cheeks.  He snatched the man’s bifocal glasses off his face, his vision blurring instantly. 
“Where do you think he came from?” A bald man wearing a blue bandana signed. The other two shrug in response.  
“Might be hunkering down in those old suburbs.” Red bandana signs. They take Bob’s messenger bag, searching its contents as he trashed it against his captor’s. Setting down the can’s and pil’s softly on the ground. 
“You think he is alone?” Yellow bandana asked, Blue shrugged.  “You don't see anyone else do ya?” He point’s out. 
“We gonna take him to an auction?” Yellow wonder’s, Red’s knee pressed further into the man’s back, he bit down as the sharp pain shot through his body. 
“I doubt he even make it to the stage.” Red sneared, smirking with venom. A light metal clicking makes Bob perk up, bit’s of cement stuck to his cheek’s. Blue’s eyes widen as he read the lettering engraved into the dog tags. 
“Check it out, military.” He signs, Bob could make out some of their motion’s even without his glasses. His heart pounded in his ears as he listens to them toss his dog tag’s to each other. 
“What kind of name is BOB?” Red signed to blue, he shrugged with his sinister smirk. Red’s dirty nail’s dangled the medallion against his cheek. “Ronan said any military we take for question.” Yellow points out, blue and red look up at each other.  “Looks like we will have some fun tonight boy’s.” 
Bob grunted, thrashing as he was forced back up. These men were not friendly, and he was sure that these people were a part of the group that Fanboy and Rooster had warned them about. The radical’s who were desperate for blood.
⏁⏁⏁
HER BROWN EYES fluttered open. She turned over, the lack of a shadow casting from the dying fire confused her. The red plaid sleeping bag remained unpaid and a single notebook paper. 
“I'll be back, went to get more meds 4 u.” Cami’s heart pounded, he went off on his own- she think’s. She groaned, getting to her feet, holding her head as she collected her thought’s.  Maybe he went far and he was just taking time to avoid making a sound. 
She looked down at her wrist, her neon pink wrist watch with the cracked glass, the time reading; 12: 20AM. She hoped that he hadn't been gone for long and he was coming back soon. Her bare feet slapped against the tile as she walked across the floor, she hoped that she didn't step on the loose tile. 
 She walked up the stairs, looking down the empty hallway. Lifeless with the paint slowly peeling away, picture’s overturned or broken. It was sad, a family torn from the world so quickly. It reminded her where she had grown up with her parents till she was fourteen, going to live with her uncle Curtis on his ranch outside San Diego. 
She used to have a big family till her parents had passed away, her grandparents had long left her, and her only relative left was her doom’s day prepping uncle. He taught everything that he thought she should know. She used to think he was crazy and did too many hallucinogens as a teenager. To be fair to him now, she bet he was laughing when the alien’s showed up. 
Cami stepped inside a pink bedroom, a small twin size bed in the corner with unmade quilt sheets. The toy’s scattered on the floor, and clothes thrown around, her tinkerbell blanket acting as a makeshift curtain, it reminded her of her own childhood bedroom. 
CLING! 
She flinched getting on the floor, her heart pounded at the sudden noise. She covers her mouth leaning against the wall, listening for what may have caused the disruption. There is no one here, only two things could be responsible for the sound. 
The monster’s who hunted anything that disturbed their perfect world, she had been careful had they could have heard her, unless it was the other thing. People, and not good one’s. She pushed back the strand’s of loose hair, peeking over the window seal. 
In the street’s, two dark sholleute’s illuminated from the cloudy moon. Her stare fell to their hand’s, crossbow. Same ones that used to fire arrows on two survivors of the island, at least that’s what she had heard. 
What do they want? She thinks in a panic. Their light’s shined in each direction of the neighborhood, entering each house briefly looking around and it wouldn't be long before they would be looking in her house. Where’s Bob when you need him, she thinks. She inhaled deeply as she began to devise a plan, she had no reason to harm them they haven't done anything to her…yet. She moved away from the window, looking around for an object. If she could distract them it could give her time to hide, or fight. In the corner, a red and blue rubber ball, Perfect, She thinks, she tiptoed across the pink carpet picking up the ball clutching it to herself. 
Her feet padded heavily against the wood as she got to the master bedroom, she kneed the bed as she opened the window creaking with the crank turning.  She looked at the neighboring house, a tree with its leaves slowly growing back, 
Cami grunted as she threw it at the branches, it snapped bouncing between each other getting stuck. Both men look between each other, looking for the noise. She didn't spare any time rushing downstairs, she picked up her backpack as she watched them. 
Blue bandana walked around the front of the house, his grip on the trigger of his crossbow never leaving. She furrowed her brows as a glist from his pocket shone in her eye’s from the moonlight. She squinted her eye’s, her heart racing. 
A silver and gold tinted bifocals laid in his pocket, a scratch in the corner of the glass. This wasn't just any run of the mill glasses, it was the one of the man she loved.  Her blood boiled in anger pulling on the handle of her ebony knife. Red bandana’s heavy boot’s scruff against the tiled floor, his flashlight shining in each room. His partner with his blue bandana, follow’s right behind him. In the living room by the fireplace, that remained with ember’s, laid two sleeping bags unmade. 
He turned around. “Someone else was with him.” Red pointed out, he nodded. 
“Where do you think they went?” Blue ask’s, his partner shrugs with his light.  “Might have skipped out, trouble in paradise?” He joked. 
“You check the bags, I'll go look outside.” Red order’s him, blue mock salutes him with two fingers, Red step’s through the broken sliding door on the wood patio. In the center of the green backyard amongst the overturned swing set, a dirty pool with leaves floating on the top, green and brown coloring the water. 
His nose turned up in disgust, he can only imagine the feel of the water. He shines his light in the corner, looking around for signs of life, though he was pretty sure no one was in the house, does not explain the tree sound. 
Crack! 
He turned on his heels, looking around as his heart pounded in fear. He aimed his crossbow at the roof of the house, the sound didn't return easing his nerve’s. He gasped as his body met the cold water that weighed him down. 
He gasped for air as he broked for the surface. A figure blurred from the water, held him by the collar. 
“Where is he?!” She demanded, he coughs up water.  
“What?!” He ask’s, she grunt’s shoving him under, he gagged as he arose again. She holds up the bifocals’ to him. “The man, where is he?!” 
Her teeth gritted staring at the man.  “Tell me where you took him?!” Cami ordered.
“I dont know what the fuck your talking about!” He exclaims, she shakes her head shoving him over the edge of the deep end.  He grunted as flayed around under the dirty water, he was forced back to the surface again. 
“Where did you take him?” Cami demanded, her shoulder tense as her eye’s fired with anger. He shakes his head, faking confusion. She reached for her waist, grunting as she pulled out her knife, her blade grazing his cheek as he stared at her fearfully. 
“You tell me where he is, or I'll cut your fucking throat.” She threatened with her eye’s dark, gripping the back of his head, pulling on his wet hair. He groaned as she drugged her blade across his cheek, blood dripping into the water. 
“Steel plant.” He shiver’s out, her lip’s straightened. “Where?” Cami growled, her fingernail’s digging into his head.
“Ahhh…by the dock’s, they're keeping him there till Ronan decides what to….do.” He stammered, his eye clouding with tear’s “Are you lying?!” She growled, her blade pushing further into his cheek, he moaned in pain shaking his head. “No no I swear.” He state’s in a whisper. 
“Please..I have a wife, a baby…she is only two, you don't have to do this.”  The man pleaded with her desperately, blood flowing down his face as he begged her with mumble’s of please’s, and prayed. 
“You're wrong about that.” Cami whisper’s, his eyes widened, she shakes her head shoving him away from her. “Get the fuck out of here, and dont come back.” She ordered, he nodded his head. 
He quickly got out of the dirty water, climbing over the edge and stumbling away from her. She touched her wet braid as her mind raced with tought’s, she almost killed a man. She swam to the edge of the pool lifting herself up. 
With a grunt she is forced back into the water, she groans muffled as her body holds tight to the floor, she gasps as she breaks for air.  Blue bandana gripped her ebony hair with an iron grip.  
“Stupid bitch.” He whisper’s, she snapped away his wrist with her free hand, the other gripped the black handle plunging her blade deep into the man’s abdomen. A scream of anguish filled the air as did an inhumane roar. 
Sounds of tree branches and wood snapping. Cami takes a deep breath looking at the roof, she grunts as she dives into the shallow end, pushing the man into the deep end. In the muffled brown water the sound of splashing and screech’s play to her. She gasped for air, she held herself to the algae tiled end. The creature’s strong arm’s flung around in the water as it clung to the surface world, failing as its body slowly fell flat, floating dead. Cami sighed in relief, her body shivering. In her other hand, glasses with water droplets thankfully not cracked, and on the other her bloody knife. 
Where are you? She thinks. 
⏁⏁⏁
HIS BODY ACHED as he slowly regained his consciousness, he could make out very few things but he was sure he wasn't in the suburban home anymore. He groans opening his mouth, restricted to the feeling of cloth in his mouth and around his jaw. He grunted, against the cutting feeling against his wrist. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” A voice whispered to him, he panted looking up from his lap. A blurry figure sat away, two other men stood next to the man in the center, staring him down like prey. 
“You know it’s one thing to trespass in our city.” The man start’s, looking between the two bandanas, “But to do it after that explosion two weeks ago is ballsy.” He state’s, Bob furrowed a brow. 
He shakes his head grunting against the cloth. “Relax, we just wanna ask you some questions, and here we can see it’s all deep underground.” 
“You know what else that means?.” He asked standing up, he placed a hand on the captive man’s shoulder, leaning forward whispering in his ears. “No one but me will hear you scream.” 
His blue eyes widened in anger, he gritted his teeth struggling against the rope that dung into his wrist.  The two men walk to the opposite side of him, one pulls the cloth away from his mouth.
“Who do you work for?” The man with his hair buzzing asks him, he shakes his head. “No one.” Bob answered truthfully, these men were not gonna know if he was lying or not. 
“Now son, you and I both know that god frowns upon lying, and if you lie to me I will assure you that your end will not be quick.” His southern drawl deep at the end, his lip’s form a thin line. 
“Where did you come from?” The man ask’s, Bob glared at him.  
“Nowhere.” He says calmly, the man sadly smile’s. He shakes his head, biting his lip. The man swing’s his face punching him in the jaw. Bob groans, his hair is grabbed forcing him to look up. 
He picks up a bag, removing the object’s from it. He set the can’s and medicine in front of him on an old tire. The man smirks, looking him up and down. 
“Who is this for then?” He demanded, Bob shake’s his head.  “No one.” He groaned as his hair was tugged on tightly. “We provide for those who cannot provide for themselves, we shower those with the fruits of our labor.” He quotes, chuckling darkly. 
“Certainly you werent gonna eat this can of peaches all on your own now were you?” His captor wondered. He rolled his eyes. “I like fruit.” Bob answered plainly. 
“Sure you do, and I bet that these.” He says picking up the orange bottle of oxy.  “Were just for fun.” He chuckle’s. 
“Yes, I want to pop one, good for the nerve’s, or are you already on to something special? .” Bob remarked, the man scrunched his nose up.
“Your a pretty mouth fucker for being tired up.” 
Bob smirked, in the back of his mind he was hoping that Cami had been smart and fled to the island. These men were more dangerous, and he couldn't imagine what they would do if they found her alone. The image’s flood his mind of her helplessly surrounded by men, the blood in him boiled in fury. 
“We don't get many of you because well you.” He chuckled again, taunting him in a way. 
“Now that.” He picked up a can of green beans, tossing it lightly. 
He grunt smacks the end of it to his nose. He moaned as his world spun around, he panted as blood trickled onto the concrete floor. 
“We can't have it.” He sneered. 
“Tell me where you came, better be the fucking truth.” He ordered, he gripped his dirty blonde hair with an iron grip.  Bob shake’s his head with wide eye’s. 
“Nowhere I swear I'm all alone.” He pleaded. 
“Now now Robert.” He spat out his name with venom. “We already said lying will get you nowhere.” 
“I’m not lying.” Bob state’s, the man’s eyes flashed with anger as he once again swung at his face, he shook his head in disapproval. 
“I know where you came from! And I know there are more of you, NOW tell me where your base is?!” He exclaimed, Bob licked his lip’s as he closed his mouth, copper filled his tongue as he stared in the green eye’s of his captor. 
“Military took my wife, she left with one and you are military so FUCKING ANWSER ME!” He growled in his face, his nail’s digging into his cheeks as he forced him to look at him. He remained silent. 
“Maybe some motivation will help.” He ask’s, he shoved the pilot away from him. He looked at the other men.
“Grab it.” He state’s. 
“Yes Ronan.” One answer’s he glare’s at them. “What did i fucking say about calling me by my name!” He exclaimed. 
“Sorry sir, here you go.” The bandana answers by handing him four polaroid photos. He smirked, holding one up to the tied up man. His heart raced as he recognized those picture’s imdeiatly. 
“She’s pretty.” Ronan say’s.  In the photo was his girlfriend, dressed in sleep short’s and his yellow San Diego shirt, grinning at the camera with her messy black hair unkempt. It was lazy morning for the both of them, he couldn't help but capture the moment. 
“Bet you would do anything for her, and you seem like the type to never want to leave his wife’s side.” He summarizes, his glare deepened as his thumb caressed her face. A fury burned deep in him, almost possessive. 
“I can respect that.” Ronan tell’s him, his heart pounded.
In this man he could see everything that this world had turned people into, the underbelly of humanity. He moved to another photo. 
“Now that is sweet.” He comment’s, holding it up. She had taken it spur of the moment, she kissed him on the cheek and snapped the picture.  “Now I bet she doesn't leave your side either. 
“You know I think…that you didn't come alone.” Ronan taunted, his blue’s eyes widened at his word. “Oh…she did, didn't she?” He covered his mouth in surprise. He pulled another photo out, the wolf whistled looking between the tied up man and the polaroid. 
“Now this one.” He start’s. He moaned, licking his lips and taking his seat back. He turned the polaroid around for Bob to see. His heart skipped a beat, in the image was a private gag photo she gave him, for him only, it was never meant to be seen by anyone. With the flash on, she had her shirt lifted with her bare breast exposed, winking at the as on hand covering her other bare chest.  “I bet she feels really good.” He scoffed. Bob shook with anger in his face. He blinked slowly as Ronan leaned forward to him. “Just between us.” He whispers. 
“How does she feel?” He questions with a wide smirk. Bob’s mouth widened as he spat dark red onto the man’s, he cackled as the man fell over onto the floor. He smirked with red blood coloring his teeth. “
How does that feel, huh?” He wiped his mouth on his jacket, spitting at the man again. His eye in fury looked at the captive man. 
“I’m not fucking telling you anything.” He spoke up. 
“Get him up,put him in the chamber.” Ronan ordered in fury. 
The two men forced the blonde up from his chair dragging him into a no longer functioning furnace. Both men climb inside, forcing the pilot to the metal floor. Ronan towered over him, bending on his knees. He cut’s Bob’s tape from his ankle, keeping his hand bound.  “See how you feel without a little bit of air.” He tells him. “In the morning he is done.” Ronan says, walking out. His blue eyes looked at him fearfully. The two men exit, closing the steel door with the slam of the latch. He choked as he felt the oxygen leave the room almost instantly.
⏁⏁⏁
THE TWO MEN SMIRKED, both inhaling on the end’s of their cigarettes, the star’s began to fade away, dawn approaching in a short hour. Four men played guard to their prisoner as they waited for the boss to give an answer to what they would do with him.  Two stayed outside while two more watched downstairs in the basement. 
“How much did you win from that game?” Yellow bandana ask the man in black black, his brows furrowed as he thought. 
“11 grand.” He signs, yellow nodded impressed with his partner. “Shit, wish I had that.” He says, from the shoot that led down to the basement, a man in a black baseball cap and purple bandana emerged. 
“What are you doing?” Yellow asks him, he climbs over looking at the both of them.  “Taking a piss.” He signed, they grimaced as they shook head’s at him.
“So how long did you stay there?” He asked his friend, and he shrugged. “About twenty years, then I left.” He answers. 
“Damn man.”He sign’s off, a grunt in the distance catche’s their attention. They spun around to look at the other end of the factory.  The other guard return’s, adjusting his hat. 
“Get clogged up?” Black bandana signs, he looked up, flipping them the obscene gesture with his middle finger. They chuckled as they kept smoking. 
Downstairs the guard climbed back down, his boot’s thumping heavily against the ground as his baggy jacket swung around.  In the center of the basement, Bob remained tied to the chair he was in. His face littered with different blow and cut, his arm’s slumped down as he looked only at his feet. 
“Damn that was quick.” Green bandana comments, he nodded in agreement as he circled the room looking at the prisoner. Green slumped against his chair, holding on to his crossbow. 
“He ain't talking, guess we took it all out of him.” He commented, he looked at the stack of tires next to him, the polaroid photos still laying there. He smirked, reaching for them as he admired them. 
“Fuck.” He grumbled with a lick of his lips, he looked at the battered man sitting across from him
“You know if we find your lady you mind if I have a spin with her?” He asks him. 
“It’s cool if you do..but im keeping this photo right here.” He tells him holding up the nude photo of Cami, his stare staying on the ground.
 “Hope you understand..I don't get much action these days if you know what I mean.” Green scoff’s. 
“You don't but that’s alright.” He grumbled, the man looked down at the photograph again, his palm kneading the end of his pant’s. 
 “Damn.” He whispers. Green leaned over to purple, he stops as he looks at him. “Ever seen a rack like this?” He asks cackling, purple’s deep laugh’s slowly at his friend as he admires the photo. 
He lunged forward, wrapping his arm under his windpipe, locking him in place as he gasped for air, clawing at purple’s arm’s as he desperately clung to air. His slowly closed shut as his body fell slump, unconscious. Bob furrowed his brow confused at his actions. 
“Why did you do that?” He wonder’s, purple turned around marching over to him, unsheathing a knife from his waist, cutting through his ankle restraints.  “Why are you helping me?” He wonders. 
“Because who else loves you enough to come after you.” A female voice say’s, his heart flutters as he recognizes the deep brown eyes that looked up at him. He smiled warmly as she removed her bandana. 
“Cami?” He breathed out. She caressed his cheek, running her thumb softly over the cut’s on his face.
 “What did they do?” She asked in disbelief.
 “They tried to break me.” He whisper’s out, she shakes her head getting up, she grunt’s cutting through the duct tape around his wrist. He groan at the pressure leaving his hand’s, and she walked around. He brought his hands to her cheek’s, cressing the scratches and cuts on her cheeks. 
“Are you hurt?” He asked her, his thumb running over the dried brown stain on her cheek, she shook her head.  “I'm fine.” Cami stated. 
“Did they hurt you?” He asks again, she grabs his hand pulling them away from her.  “No..save your voice, we don't have much time.” She tells him. 
“What are you talking about?” He wonders, shaking his head confused. She looked down at the unconscious man, she walked over to him snatching his bandana off his face tossing it to her boyfriend. 
“You put that on, his jacket should fit you.” She explains, she collected the thing’s removed from his sack, shoving the polaroid photos in the bottom.  “You're gonna go upstairs, pretend to be him.” She order’s. 
“Okay then what?” He ask’s her, she grunts as she takes off the heavy jacket from the bandit, tossing it back to him. 
“He comes back down here, I will knock him out.” She explains. He hadn't seen her this way before, taking charge and so focused. It almost scared him, and helped him with how was feeling. 
He wanted to tear these men apart for even daring to mess with them, for even thinking of touching her the way he does. She picked up the crossbow from the ground, reloading it, turning to look at him. 
“When you get up there, knock out the last guard, we aren't too far from the boat and I already put our bag’s there.” Camiele quickly explained to him, he nodded his head compiling. He put his arm through the large jacket, wrapping the green bandana on his face. 
 “How did you find me?” He wonder’s, she turned on her heels. “What my uncle taught me.” She tells him blankly. 
“I cant believe they fucking took you.” She grumbled, her shoulders tense as moved things around. His mouth parted at her fury. 
“Did you kill them?” He asked her, and she stopped. 
“Not me, the creature heard one when he tried to kill me.” She state’s, his heart pounded at her fast pace. 
 “It doesn't matter if we have to do this now or never.” She continued. He grabbed her hand as she walked by, she looked at him in his teary blue eyes as he stared at her. Without his glasses, he truly looked like a battered man with each bruise that was forming on his tan skin. 
“You didn't leave.” He says, her gaze softened for a moment. “Never.” She whispered, she leaned forward on her tiptoes kissing his cheek. She pressed her forehead against his. 
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” She whispered, pulling away, he adjusted his cap on his head. He walked over to the ladder, turning to look at her. Good luck, she signed to him. 
He takes a deep breath as he begins to climb to the hatch. He carefully pushed up the lid, setting it back up. His heart pounded in his ears as he swung his leg’s over the metal, he strided over to the two men chain smoking. 
They laughed, turning to him.  Yellow raised a brow at him. “Switched already?” He signed to him. 
“Yeah, he’s in the chamber.” He signed in response. Black scoffed.  “Being mouthy again?” He asks him. 
“I ought to teach em something about respecting superior’s.” Black sneared, bob’s shoulders shook in anger, he cleared his throat. 
“Well do it then.” He signed with a dark chuckle. 
Black nodded his head, flicking his cigarette. He patted green on the shoulders as he paced over to the shoot.  Bob leaned against the brick wall, looking out at the skyline as the sun had picked through the yellow and blue night. 
Yellow tap’s the ground. “With all these people coming back, maybe we will find that place.” He tells him, he raised a brow.  They kept asking about the island, mentioning something about a wife. 
“I don't know I kind of like this.” Bob played along, yellow took a drag of his cancer stick blowing out smoke. 
“What?” He asks him. He shrugged.
 “Getting killer view’s like this.” He pointed out at the sky, Yellow turned his head, leaning out, he smirked under his facial covering. It looked like something witnessed in a painting, with each color perfectly chosen. The man gagged as the windpipe was blocked, he clawed at the arm that choked him. Yellow grunt’s he elbowed the man behind him, Bob stumbled back, he panted holding his bruised rib. 
Yellow’s eyes darkened, he tackled him onto the concrete. Bob huffed as he clawed at him with the strength he had left, the man on top of him growled as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. 
Bob gagged as he scratched at his face, pushing his face cover off him. Yellow’s smiled looking down at him, he gasped as sharp pain was felt into his back, he turned over his shoulder seeing a woman with a dark braid. 
He gripped the blade that stuck out his back, his eyes widened as he removed it from his back, hissing with his teeth as he held up the blood soaked metal to the rising sun. He grunts as he swung at the young woman. 
She ducked, kicking him away from her. Yellow’s arm’s are restricted as he backs into a wall, into a person. Bob grunted as he pushed the blade away from himself, keeping his feet firmly placed on the ground, pressing deep against the brick as the man fought hard. 
With his free hand he gripped the man’s hand, plunging the knife into his throat. The blood dripped down his mouth as he stumbled around, desperately stopping the blood that gushed out, finally collapsing to the ground with a gurgle. Bob sighed in relief, turning around. His hand shaking as his heart pounded, he couldn't believe what he had done, he had killed a man. He didn't think he was actually capable of actually killing someone, much less stabbing one.
Cami’s breath shake’s as she extends her arm’s bringing him close. The morning cold shivered up and down her body, he placed his chin on her forehead as they held each other. Her brown eyes rolled into the back of her head as she began to feel faint. She fell forward into his chest, he grunted catching her with both of his arm’s as she laid limp against him. 
⏁⏁⏁
DAWN HAD finally come, shining through the windows of the small home. On the plaid couch in front of the fireplace, Camile laid asleep, a fluffy blue blanket clutched against her body. She groaned, turning over as her brown eyes slowly fluttered open. 
Her eye’s slowly adjusted to the bright light that shined. She recognised where she was, the familiar scent of cedarwood and bayberry filling her nose, bit’s of clothing on the floor and on the mantle photos from the world before. She was home.
She didn't have time to relax as her tongue watered with an awful taste, she clutched her mouth as she leaned over to the teal trash bin next to her, emptying the contents of her stomach into it, she gagged as the potent smell filled her nose. 
She moaned in relief leaning back against the couch. The floorboard creaks making her perk up, she turned over looking in the kitchen arch way. There stood her boyfriend, wearing jeans and a dark green henley shirt, unbutton at the top. “Are you okay?” Bob ask’s her, she nodded her head touching her forehead. 
He walked over to her, a plate in hand as he sat on the coffee table. His face was cleaned up, the cut’s on his head covered with a small white bandage. A bruise painted his lip’s, his bifocal covered most of the damage done to his eyebrow. 
“What happened?” Cami wonder’s, he sighed.  “You passed out, and I had to drag you to the boat.” He explained plainly, he handed her a cup of water with two red tablets in his hand. 
“You have been asleep since this morning, and I had you checked out at the infirmary, you weren't hurt.” Bob reassures her, his voice low and raspy, probably from the suffocation. 
Cami groaned sitting up, her bare legs being met with the brisk and warm air of the small cottage. She looked down, she guessed that he had changed her clothes for her, graciously he kept her shirt on. 
“What about you?” She wondered, he shrugged the question off. “Couple bruised ribs, busted lip and eye brow, fancy shiner growing on my forehead as for my eye’s.” He stop’s, her eye’s widened. 
“What..what is it?!” Cami asked concern, his blue eyes met her dark eyes. 
 “I don't think I can see very well.” He tells her, his lip’s forming a mischievous smirk, she shook her head at his behavior.  
“Not funny.” She scold’s him. He bit his lip shaking his head. “Couldn't resist.” He says. 
She leaned forward, taking the drink from him, swallowing the water and pill’s. Slushed the water around in her mouth to get rid of the puke taste, spitting into the bin next to her. She groaned holding herself. 
“Feels Like I was hit by a truck.” She joked to him, laughing weakly. Her hair had bit’s coming out, he knew not to touch her hair unless she allowed him to, she allowed her hair to grow long then ceremoniously she cut it when she knew it was time. 
“Well I can imagine.” He says, she looked up at him. 
“Bob..I’m sorry..I should have been on guard..you were just trying to help me and I just.” She stuttered out, he shook his head. He placed his hand on her’s.  “Stop-it wasn't anyone’s fault, and definitely not yours, Cam.” He reassures her. 
“We both knew they were in the city, and you got hurt trying to help me.” Cami countied, he shook his head. “I should have fu- I should have just stayed.” She mumbled. 
“You didn't, and you didn't leave me behind either.” Bob reminds her, his voice soft with reassurance.  “You fought like hell.” 
“And would do the same for you in a heartbeat.” He state’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest, her eye’s darting between his as she relaxed, his hand’s holding her own. She looked down. 
“What is it?” He wonder’s, his calloused hand rubbed circle’s on her palm. She took a deep breath building up the courage in herself. “Bob..I uh.” She stop’s. She inhaled again. “I think I’m pregnant.” She revealed, his lips parted as he stared at her. 
His heart pounded as his mind began to flood with image’s as thing’s finally added up. Cami looked at his concern, the color left his face as he just stared up at her in shock and confusion. 
“Are…are you sure?” He mumbled, she shrugged her shoulders unsure. “I think so, I mean look at the signs right?” She chuckled, he blinked, running his fingers through his hair. “You're not..mad are you?” Camile asked, her heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of him leaving. He shook his head as his mouth began to form a smile. He placed his hand on her shoulders. 
“No No I'm not mad, I could not be mad at that.” He gushed excited, he laughed as he brought her into a hug. He vibrated against his shoulder as he crushed her in a bear hugger. Cami smiled against him as he slowly rocked her back and forth. 
“Please tell me this is actually happening, please.” He pleaded with her, his hand shaking against her back. She chuckled, nodding into his shoulders.
“Cam, that's amazing.” He gushed. 
“It’s all real I swear.” She gushed. He pulled away from her, wiping away the tears that stained his cheek. “Oh don't cry.” 
“I’m not–I just can't help it.” Bob tell’s her, she shakes her head as she leaned forward, pulling by his cheek, inhaling  deeply as she kissed him. His free hand caressed her waist, his thumb grazing over stomach. She pulled away as she embraced him once more, the sunlight illuminates their shadows onto the hardwood floor.
TAGGED: @sorchathered @fairyheart @mamsieur @sugarcoated-lame @sebsxphia
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lavenderbradshaw · 2 years ago
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Two Paper Airplanes
You and Bob have never had a hiccup. He was always the same-old Bob, kind and loving and gentle. You think that's all going to change after the birdstrike, after you tell him some news.
Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?
“Eject, eject, eject!” 
The sound of Phoenix and Bob’s voices over the radio make you want to hurl. Literally. You feel your stomach twist so quickly you barely know what’s happening until Rooster has a hand on your shoulder. You don’t say anything, the placement of your hand on your abdomen must be enough for him to deduce what’s happening. He calls for Hangman to bring him a trash can, and you almost ask how he can tell, how he just knows you’re going to throw up. You can’t, though, because in a blinding sequence of events, you end up on the floor. Jake’s holding your feet against his stomach, still standing to try and get blood flow back to your head. Rooster is fanning you, almost hilariously, with a chunk of papers. You lick your lips, which are too numb to feel, and Halo sighs. 
“You scared the shit out of us,” she gasps out, her hand clutched in yours. “You okay, Dreamer?”
You close your eyes for just a second , opening them again to see Maverick crouched next to you now. You flinch, the memory of him being up in the air with Bob and Phoenix when they- 
“Bobby?” You whisper, quiet as a mouse. He nods his head and then shakes it.
“He’s okay. They’re gonna check him out, probably keep them both overnight which is normal,” he says, still shaking his head. “He’s okay. Why don’t we get you checked out?” 
20 stitches in a hospital room
Between the two of you, there are 20 stitches. Four in your hand from where you’d sliced yourself with the kitchen knife just a few days ago, and 16 stitches in a small cut on his shoulder from a rock he’d uncomfortably slid on as he landed. Parachute operated fine, canopy operated fine, everything is fine. 
Except there are 20 stitches and one test result remaining completely hidden. 
You sit at his bedside while he naps off whatever they’d given him. He’s grounded for a few days, just to recover, but you wish he were grounded forever. You’d give everything you had to make sure he never got in another jet. 
“Are you okay?” He whispers, his hand in yours. You’re staring off at the wall, or maybe the window, he can’t tell. But he does know you’re out of it, because he’s called your name three times now. 
“I’m pregnant,” you whisper, so quietly he shifts to hear you better. 
“What, baby? I’m sorry, I didn’t-“
“I’m pregnant.”
When you started crying, I did too
“You’re…” he whispers, pushing himself up in the hospital bed. You don’t stop him—you can’t. “Oh, God.”
“Pregnant. I’m pregnant.”
You aren’t sure what reaction you wanted out of him, but he starts crying. You suppose that’s a suitable reaction, because you start crying, too. 
“If you want to… we haven’t even…” you stumble over your own sentences, shaking your head. “We’ve only been dating a few months, less than a year, and if you don’t want this…”
“No!” He gasps, and your heart sinks. He sees the reaction on your face and he immediately wants to fix it. There’s an overwhelming feeling of dread in the pit of his belly, he wonders if this is how you felt when you heard him eject. “No, not like that, baby, no. I want… I want this baby and a wedding and a million more babies with you.”
You look up at him, eyes wide and lip wavering. “Bob, you don’t have to just… say that.”
“Shut up,” he says, his voice more firm. You look at him closer, now. He has your undivided attention. “No, please, God. It’s you. It’s been you since the moment I saw you. I have a ring in my locker on base because I didn’t know where to hide it at our house and- and I was going to propose but this happened and…”
When the sun came up, I was looking at you 
He’s there every waking moment. Throughout all the waves of nausea and doctors appointments and midnight cravings, he’s a solid, unwavering force until your baby girl comes into your lives in the middle of the plastic tub in the living room. She doesn’t cry, not at first, quiet just like her father. She just opens her eyes, taking it all in, before a solid tap on her butt makes her curl her hands into fists and wail. The sun was just beginning to rise as she slipped from you after a long night, but you’re suddenly more awake than you had been previously. You’re crying, looking between Bobby who was adamant about getting in the pool right behind you and that tiny little baby girl. 
“She looks just like you,” Bob whispers, his hand coming up to meet yours against her back. “She looks like you.”
You just shake your head, leaning it back against Bob. Bob, who was just as exhausted, who had been at work when you called him contracting, who had raced home and changed into swim trunks and got in right behind you in water that was now slightly chilled. “She’s gonna be so much like her daddy. Quiet and kind and loving. She’s gonna be your little girl.”
He can’t stop staring at you, as the sun rises more and peaks into the living room. He doesn’t even stop staring when you’re resting on the couch, curled up in blankets and drifting off to sleep. He just holds your little baby, his little baby, and stares. 
God, he loves you both more than he could have ever imagined.
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themorriganwitch · 2 years ago
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Top Gun Maverick: Wedding glimpses
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Summary: short wedding headcanons/ glimpses
Characters: Bob, Rooster, Hangman
A/N : have fun and comment what you think about it / all images are from Pinterest -> credits go to the creators
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Hangman
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He married on his parents ranch
He was absolutely obsessed about having beautiful wedding pictures/ a perfect first dance
He was highly involved in all the planning
You had to beg him not to wear his cowboy hat during the official part
He totally shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle
Absolutely nailed his vows cause he worked on them for MONTHS
Unforgettable wedding night 🫣
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Rooster
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Beach Wedding
He definetly switched his wedding suit for his fav hawaiian shirt after the official part
Party until the sun rised the next Morning
He played some songs of the Piano for you (one was surely Great Balls of Fire)
You always left two seats empty (during ceremony, the meal and during the Party ) to give Carole and Goose a Part in the Wedding
Phoenix was his best man (and she took the job damn serious)
He bawled when he saw you walking down the beach
My man was drunk af and had the worst hangover the day after
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Bob
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Bookstore wedding
Also a pretty small one
He was nervous af shortly before the ceremony but as soon as he saw you he was in total aw
He held the best wedding speech ever
Incredibly romantic wedding
The type of wedding were literally every guest cried during the ceremony
He organised a surprise firework right after your first dance
He did not cry during the ceremony but as soon as the two of you were alone and he slowly realised everything he absolutely lost it
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babyonboardfloyd · 2 years ago
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morning after | robert 'bob' floyd
pairing: robert floyd x f!reader (almost no descriptions of reader besides tiny hair mention)
warnings: teensiest tiniest allusion to sex, mentions of alcohol, and almost zero proof-reading
inspired by truly, madly, deeply by one direction lol
robert floyd didn’t do one night stands. it wasn’t his thing. he wasn’t the type to get drunk at the hard deck and take the pretty girl home from the bar, like hangman always did. he wasn’t the type to flirt with the stranger that had caught his eye and ask to buy her a drink. he liked to play the long game. admire from a distance, form a friendship, let feelings develop naturally.
that was until he saw you. he had seen you behind the bar of the hard deck one night, your smile radiant as you handed a patron their beer. bob couldn’t help magnetic draw he felt to you. shocking everyone around him, including himself, bob stood up from his stool by the pool table, brushed the peanut shells from his lap, and made his way over to where you stood.
you looked up from where you were now wiping down the bar top, eyes meeting his blue ones behind his huge glasses.
“what can i get for ya?” you asked the bespectacled stranger.
“nothing. um, i -uh, hi. my name is robert and i -uh never do this but you are gorgeous and i just needed to tell you that ma’am”
the blush that crept over your face was burning red as you smiled and introduced yourself back, bashfully accepting his compliment. the rest of the night flew by as robert stayed up at the bar, the two of you laughing and talking all night. even after your shift was over, you remained to have a drink with the man. one thing led to another and bob found himself waking up the next morning, his long limbs tangled in yours, and you breathing softly next to him in your bed.
bob’s heart soared out of his chest. you looked so angelic laying there, the early morning sun peaking through the blinds and falling gently on your cheeks. he reached out and brushed a stray hair away from your forehead, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your face.
you stirred in his arms and blinked up slowly at the man you took home from the bar. in your sleepy haze, you saw a faint look of concern behind his eyes, which you mirrored, worrying he regretted coming home with you.
he spoke gently, hand still gently playing with your hair, “i want you to know that i don’t normally do this, i -uh, i don’t do one night stands. i like to take a girl out a few times, be a gentleman, ya know?,” he laughed once, “and i -uh, obviously we missed a few steps, and i know we only met last night, but i like you, a lot, and i’d love to get to know you even better, take you out tonight.”
still coming fully to consciousness, his words leave you speechless, a gentle blush creeping over your cheeks. your silence sends panic rushing into bob’s mind, and he stammers out, “and i -uh, i totally understand if this was just, like, a one night thing and you -uh, you didn’t feel anything and that didn’t mean anything. i totally get that.”
again, you didn’t say anything, but instead you leaned into the man laying next to you and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. he kissed you back immediately, you could feel the sincerity in his kiss.
“so, uh, does this mean you’ll go out with me?”
you giggle lightly at his question, “yes, robby, i’d love to. and for the record, i don’t do one night stands either, i felt something too.”
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say-al0e · 2 years ago
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Enterprise
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, minors, DNI!
Summary: Bob likes to keep his personal life and work life separate. But returning to San Diego has been difficult so what better time to introduce you to his new friends than Halloween. It is a night for surprises, after all. | Ft. Anon Request for: “Keep your voice down. There’s still a party going on.”
Warnings: A little anxiety, a little insecurity, some teasing from the squad, public oral (fem receiving), Bob’s adorable and the squad is supportive. Anything else, just ask and I’ll tag.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader (wife!Reader)
Word Count: 7.7k Words (...yeah, I know)
Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
Despite popular belief - or unpopular as he was never very well-known - Robert Floyd wasn’t really that awkward. In fact, he wasn’t really that shy, either. He’d been called a litany of things throughout his life, in the Navy and otherwise, but very few of them were words he believed to be apt descriptors of who he really was as a person.
A high school guidance counselor once called him reserved, if a little timid, and those who knew him - well and truly knew him, saw beyond the glasses and hesitant smiles - would agree. He never loved the limelight, had never been one to seize the opportunity to settle into the center of attention, and always preferred to hang around the periphery. He always allowed his actions to speak for themselves and realized somewhere around high school that the role he played fit him well.
Somewhere along the way - around the time he enrolled in the Naval Academy and moved far away from the only life he’d ever really known - he gained a reputation for being quiet, shy,  awkward, invisible. The reputation was one that never really bothered him and, over the years, he began to lean into it. He let his teammates, officers he met in passing, aviators who’d never even met him, believe what they wanted.
Any fight he threw at them would be met with laughter and rolled eyes, anyway, so why try?
What others thought about him never really bothered him - apart from that one girl in grade school, his first crush, whose observation that he was odd really did hurt his feelings. And, if he really thought about it, it was no secret as to how he garnered his reputation.
While those around him spoke freely about their personal lives - plans for the weekend, exciting family news, the things they left behind to join the Navy - Bob kept relatively quiet about his personal life. There was never any shame in where he came from or what he did on the weekends, there was no conscious decision to hide his life, he’d just never really been included in those conversations. His quiet demeanor often saw him forgotten, left just on the periphery, and when he was included, his answers were always only politely considered for a moment or made the punchlines to jokes.
When he was finally invited in, given real friends who truly wanted to hear his answers to those questions, quiet had become a reflex. The Dagger Squad learned a little, was given a handful of answers as to where he came from and why he joined the Navy, but Natasha became the only person who knew anything deeper than surface level.
Robert Floyd was an enigma to those around him and, for the most part, he never even realized others were curious. What he did on the weekends, why he was so keen to flee the Hard Deck after only half an hour, why he lived off-base when nearly everyone else lived in the barracks; those were things only Natasha knew and he hadn’t made much of an effort to change that.
The division of his life, professional and personal, served him well.
That division only really became a problem when it began to take its toll on the one person he hoped to never burden with his career.
As excited as he was to return to Top Gun, to return to San Diego, that return meant uprooting the life he’d spent three years building. There was always a possibility that he’d have to pack it all up and move along to the next base - something he’d come to accept, just as you had - but Lemoore had been home for a little too long.
Though Bob left only a handful of friends in Lemoore, you left the life you spent three years building - a life you’d already left one city to start. A job, a support system in the partners of other Navy officers, new friends, a favorite cafe and bookshop; all were three hours away now, just because you packed up the little house you both spent your weekends fixing up to follow him to San Diego.
Bob knew that allowing his lives to blend, just a little, was the only way to lift some of the weight he’d inadvertently placed on you. So, he started simply.
Natasha was the first - and only - member of the Dagger Squad he introduced you to formally, one-on-one. She was important to your husband, the person he trusted with his life and the person who trusted him with hers, and he knew just how much you’d like her.
There was no surprise that you took to her immediately, falling into an easy friendship that saw you and Natasha enjoying a bond Bob could only hope continued, but one friend outside of work was only the beginning. And when he caught wind of the Hard Deck’s annual Halloween party, Bob decided that your favorite holiday would be the perfect time to truly allow his worlds to collide.
The excitement he saw in the days leading up to the party was enough to quell any remaining anxiety he felt about introducing you. There was never any doubt that you would get along with the rest of the squad, never any shame in introducing you as the love of his life, but seeing the joy with which you prepared reminded him that these people were different - there would be no malice in the teasing they leveled him with, no real question as to how you met that wasn’t genuinely asked.
When the night itself finally arrived, Bob found himself wondering why he ever thought keeping you from the people who were starting to become something of a second family was a good idea.
Regardless of how he felt about introducing you, Bob knew that, if asked, there wasn’t a single soul who would’ve guessed he was seeing someone - aside from Natasha and Bradley, who he was beginning to suspect knew more than he let on. If they had, and if he’d disclosed your plan to attend the party in a couple’s costume, several assumptions would’ve been made.
Any number of guesses would’ve been made - and someone likely would’ve gotten it right - but if he’d disclosed your costumes were from Star Trek, you would’ve been dubbed Bob two-point-oh before ever stepping foot in the bar.
As he’d remained quiet, there was no hiding the surprise on every face - save for Natasha’s - when he stepped into the Hard Deck with you by his side. The reaction was warranted, despite his own costume’s simplicity, and he knew it. He knew that all eyes would’ve been on you, regardless of who you entered with, but his presence at your side only served to garner more attention for both of you.
Of all the patrons in the bar, Mickey seemed to be the only person who had even the slightest clue who either of you were supposed to be. Once the initial shock of seeing Bob with someone wore off, there was a look of dim recognition in his eyes. But recognition was never really the point of the costume and, honestly, no one seemed to be paying that much attention to the clothes themselves as you approached the bar in search of a drink.
Everyone in the vicinity was too focused on the fact that Robert Floyd was not alone and was, instead, accompanied by a woman they deemed well and truly out of his league - a fact he had no intention of arguing with.
It was unnerving and he felt a strange flurry of emotion - a little pride, a little ire, a lot of insecurity - as he struggled to keep from shrinking under the weight of nearly every eye in the room raking over the pair of you. They would all get bored soon, he knew, but it didn’t help that he could practically hear the whispered conversations wondering just what you were doing with him.
Bob’s flight suit, an old one he’d nearly tossed out that had been dyed navy and adorned with custom patches, was straight from the first iteration of the starship Enterprise. Combined with the slicked back hair, it could’ve been something plucked straight from his daily wardrobe. His inner Trip Tucker had yet to be channeled, though he knew it would take a drink or three before he felt compelled to lean into the accent he did his best to hide.
You, on the other hand, leaned fully into the roll of mirror-verse T’Pol the moment you donned your costume. It was bold, a navy crop top and low-waisted pants, and completely out of the realm of comfort but it was fun. And, though he still managed to flush each time you caught him, he’d lost himself eyeing the vast array of exposed skin more than he cared to admit.
Still, as much as he found himself enjoying the costume - and he’d made sure to let you know just how much before leaving home - he could feel himself beginning to spiral into the same self-doubt he tried so desperately to combat. But regardless of how he was beginning to feel, he did his best to swallow those feelings as Penny approached.
Bob’s reputation was not your fault, neither was the subsequent surprise at your appearance, and it didn’t seem that you even noticed the attention as you took in the decor of the bar.
“This place is really cute.” Bob smiled, not at all surprised by your bright-eyed cheer when he needed it most - because you had noticed the attention, as well as the discomfort it brought - and hummed as you waited for Penny to fish out a beer for the patron in front of you. “I get why you guys like it so much.”
“It’s one of the better Navy bars I’ve been to,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his fondness as he removed his hand from the small of your back to step a little closer. He was careful to leave just enough space between you - not so much as to invite any unwanted attention, but enough to feel the warmth of your skin if he turned just so - and tipped his head to smile at you. “But it’s better with you here.”
Bob’s hand found yours then, fingers intertwining with yours, and you sighed quietly at the warmth of him. It was easier to think, to feel grounded in the moment, with his hand in yours and you knew that he felt the same.
A smile, bright despite the warmth of so many gazes settling on your skin, lifted the corners of your mouth as you tilted your head to hide your face. Bob could see it, that same bashful grin you’d always gotten when he laid on the charm, and felt his mood improve as you shook your head fondly. 
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Robbie.”
Though the novelty of your appearance was beginning to wane, Bob could still feel the weight of a handful of gazes pressing on his shoulders. You were well aware of them all, noticed them the moment you wandered in, but the only gaze that mattered to you was his.
Bob was careful not to leer - despite the ease with which he could’ve done so, and the permission you gave him to do so - though his gaze continued to fall to the exposed expanse of your chest. Despite the years you’d spent together, the countless times he’d seen you naked, his cheeks still flushed a little brighter pink each time and you resisted the urge to coo as Penny approached.
Though Bob imagined Natasha would make her way over the moment she saw you, Penny was the first to greet you both. Her smile was bright, friendly, and she managed to hide her surprise, even as she caught sight of the silver band adorning his ring finger.
“The usual, Bob, or are we switching it up for Halloween?” The question was teasing, a thinly veiled prod at the very obvious departure from his usual, but not unkind and he took it in stride as you squeezed his hand.
Usually, when left to his own devices - and dragged to the Hard Deck instead of being allowed to head straight home to you - Bob opted for soda. It was easier to make the drive home then, faster than having to call an Uber or rely on a friend, and gave him an easy out when he bid his goodbyes after less than an hour.
Bob indulged, though he was never fond of getting truly drunk, but only when you were by his side. Drinking with you was more fun - and usually ended with the pair of you tangled beneath the sheets - but Penny didn’t know that. Instead, she’d taken to stocking a few extra glass bottled sodas and offered good-natured encouragement for him to try something new every now and again. He rarely did, almost always opting for a coke, but tonight was a night for changes, it seemed.
“A beer, please, Penny.” Try as he might to hide the accent, a hint of that drawl you loved so much escaped - evidence of just how comfortable he was with you, able to be a version of himself few saw. Penny seemed to notice and pulled a beer from the ice with a grin before raising a brow at you. Before you could open your mouth, however, Bob squeezed your hand and smiled. “And a vodka soda, please.”
Another smile from Penny, one that painted a veery clear picture of her enjoyment at seeing another side of Bob, as she turned to begin your drink while you fixed him with a fond look. “I would’ve been fine with a beer,” you assured him, taking a half-step closer to allow another person easier access to the bar. “It’s busy.”
Bob shrugged, easily accommodating your sudden closeness with a half-smile, as he lifted the bottle from the bar. “But is a beer what you really wanted?”
Just as he had a tendency to diminish himself for others’ comfort, to go with the flow and avoid drawing too much attention, you had a habit of settling. In a crowded bar, a busy restaurant, a bustling cafe, you tried to avoid making a fuss, despite knowing what you really wanted, and he knew that. Something as simple as ordering a drink he knew you’d like rather than one he knew you wouldn’t care for was a small gesture, easily lost in the chaos of your shared lives, but one that managed to warm you from within.
A small ache, pleasant and bright and light and lifting the weight of so many eyes pressing into your skin, settled in your chest as you squeezed his hand three times. “I’m very fond of you. You know that, right?”
Bob laughed quietly as he nodded, that soft smile never leaving his lips as he returned the quick squeezes, but that amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t immediately noticeable - he did a damn good job of hiding his feelings, for the most part - but you’d known him your entire life. There was a depth to those blue eyes, a brightness, that was missing and it gave you a moment’s pause as you tipped your head to study his face.
“You okay?”
Lifted eyebrows displayed his surprise at having been caught - there were moments of doubt where he still seemed caught off guard by your attention, your affection, your love despite having been in love for most of your lives - but he was quick to smile and nod.
“Mm, m’fine.” The reassurance was softly spoken, barely audible over the din of the crowd, and you didn’t exactly believe it. Even as his smile grew a touch brighter, as his eyes lightened a half-shade, even as he lifted his beer and took a sip, your brows furrowed.
Bob’s shoulders were tense, easily visible through the thin material of his flight suit, and you could see the way he chewed the inside of his cheek as he glanced around the crowded bar. His gaze never settled for long, never lingered in one spot for more than a few seconds, and you knew that it had at least a little to do with the attention you were both on the receiving end of.
When he nodded once more, hand slipping from yours to return to the small of your back as Penny placed your drink on the bar, you shot him your own smile - one you hoped looked as reassuring as you meant it. “Whenever you decide you’re ready to leave, you know I’m always down to go home and get comfortable.”
Though he wasn’t one for public displays, Bob tugged you a little closer to press you into his side as he nodded. “One of the many, many things I love about you. But I’m okay,” he assured you, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than you. But he didn’t give you time to dwell as he asked, “Ready to meet everyone?”
There was a time and place to dwell on the feelings you knew were beginning to bubble - it wasn’t that hard to tell. Where at least a little of the tension was coming from as a group of men to your left glanced at the pair of you and began to snicker - and the Hard Deck was not it. So, you simply nodded. “Lead the way.”
As you shuffled through the crowd, headed in the direction of the pool table in the corner, you caught sight of Natasha.
While you were skeptical at first, uncertain as to how well your husband would adjust to life back in Fightertown and being her WSO, you found yourself thrilled to have her in your life. She respected Bob more than anyone he’d ever flown with, and received his respect in turn, and took the time to get to know you both personally. After he introduced the pair of you, you’d started seeing her at least once a week - with and without Bob - and had come to love her almost more than your husband did.
The sight of her was a welcome one, a certainty in the midst of a storm, even as she blinked in surprise at your costume. And though you were half-expecting her to be the first to speak, to break the silence that fell over the group with your approach, it seemed as if no one was really sure what to say.
For a split second, everyone paused before the man you recognized as Hangman - easily identifiable with nothing more than Bob’s stories to help you pinpoint him - beat them all to it.
“Well, well, Baby on Board,” he drawled, cowboy hat tipped back on his head and brows raised as he eyed the pair of you. “Who is this?”
Bob had always been good at hiding his annoyance - or maybe no one ever really cared enough to notice it - but you could see the tic of his jaw as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hangman got under his skin, despite Natasha urging him to ignore the Texan, and you knew that the teasing question would only add to the ire he already felt.
Still, he managed to swallow whatever quip lingered on the tip of his tongue with a sip of beer, even as his fingers pressed a little harder into the warmth of your skin. “This is my wife.” His announcement was followed by your name, spoken into the relative quiet of the group, and saw everyone blinking in surprise. Someone - Fanboy, if the Mandalorian costume was anything to go by - sputtered a sip of beer as another laughed incredulously.
Hangman was the first to recover, lips parting in surprise and grip loosening on his darts as his gaze darted between you both. He allowed himself a real look, gaze sweeping your exposed skin, before he laughed. “Sorry, I think Rooster’s singing has finally ruined my hearing,” he teased, earning an unimpressed glower from the mustached pilot dressed as a rooster. “Did you just say wife?”
The moment the word rippled through the small group, uttered just a little louder, it seemed as if every eye fell to Bob. The silver of his ring glittered in the dim light, bright and eye-catching now that it had been pointed out, and you swallowed your amusement with a sip of vodka.
Though neither of you particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, this was almost to be expected. It had happened more than once, would likely continue to happen, and you found a way to enjoy the surprise on every face as you hummed.
“We’ve been married almost three years now.” As you spoke, you lifted your left hand to his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as their attention fell to your own ring - and patted the Enterprise insignia sewn into the fabric.
While the men blinked, lips parted and brows raised high as they attempted to process the information they’d been dealt, Natasha nudged her way through a set of them.
“I would make a joke about stealing you from Bob if he’s not careful, but the two of you just look too damn good together.” A teasing grin accompanied her words even as she pulled you into an embrace, careful not to spill either of your drinks. “It’s kind of annoying how perfect you look.” It was light, playful, but you both still managed to flush under her scrutiny as she eyed your costumes. 
“Us? Look at you. Giving a whole new meaning to sinful thoughts,” you teased, grinning when Bob laughed at your side and shook his head. “Everyone looks great,” you complimented, smiling genuinely when the others preened. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who in the costumes.” As you glanced around the small group, eager to observe the people who had become Bob’s closest friends, you were met with nothing but a pleasant intrigue. “Robbie’s descriptions have made it pretty easy, though.”
“Aw, Robbie.” Hangman grinned as he reached out to pinch Bob’s cheek, laughing all the while. Even as the others rolled their eyes, clearly seeing where his teasing was going, Hangman continued, “You talk about us? That’s so sweet!”
“Don’t be a dick, Bagman.” Natasha’s huff was lightly scolding, though it lacked the venom you expected, even as she rolled her eyes. She implored Bob to ignore Hangman’s taunts, to not engage - even when he wanted to - but you were grateful she attempted to keep him in check.
Rooster - who you suspected knew about your existence before tonight, whether he was told by Natasha or had simply put the pieces together himself as he looked wholly unsurprised by your presence and displayed a sort of brotherly pride when he regarded Bob - scoffed a laugh.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he warned, partially under his breath.
Hangman, who looked entirely unbothered by the exchange, waved them off with a dismissive hand as he leaned against the pool table and eyed you both. “Anyway,” he drawled, gesturing to the pair of you with the tip of a dart, “how’d you and Baby on Board meet? Library, bookstore?” When you simply raised a brow at him, unimpressed, he shrugged. “I was under the impression he only existed at work and in this bar."
Though he made an effort to conceal his annoyance, from the corner of your eye, you could see Bob roll his eyes. Hangman never truly got under his skin - not in the way he intended, anyway - and the group had even come to like him. There were no ill intentions, not really, but you could tell his line of questioning was not helping the ire Bob began to feel the moment you stepped into the bar.
The more you thought about it, the easier it was to realize that discomfort from the influx of attention was not the only thing bothering him. Though his friends were clearly happy for him, it was easy to see the same look reflected in their eyes that you’d seen in others. They wondered what you were doing with Bob and how they’d gone this long without knowing you existed.
And while he wasn’t the most confident man, Bob was secure enough in your love that he rarely allowed that question to bother him. Tonight, however, it seemed as if he’d fallen victim to the insecurity that sometimes haunted him.
With a sigh, careful to keep your gesture light rather than outwardly comforting - though that was exactly what you intended it to be, a grounding touch to quiet the noise inside his head - you shifted your hand to gently squeeze his bicep. The entire group was wanted an answer, and likely would’ve asked the question in a more polite way, so you directed the reply to them.
“We grew up together.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you spared him a glance, easily remembering the doe-eyed boy with the crooked smile who lived in nearly every childhood memory. “He lived a few houses down from me and our grandmothers were friends. We did pretty much everything together for the longest time. Nothing really happened until he asked me to Homecoming our freshman year of high school, though.”
Everyone, including Hangman, visibly softened at the revelation. The knowledge that Bob married a childhood friend, his high school sweetheart, was wholly unsurprising but enough to pull a simultaneous, “Aw,” from them all. 
“We were high school sweethearts,” he confirmed, smile now reaching his eyes as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. The look softened, if only slightly, and grew a touch melancholy as he laughed quietly. “I would’ve married her then but we decided to take a break and went our separate ways when I got into the Academy and she went down south for school.”
Surprise was evident at the softness of his voice, the ease and confidence with which he declared he would’ve married you a decade ago, but it prompted a fond smile as you shook your head. You would’ve married him then, too, and you could feel your cheeks heat with a pleasant warmth that made you feel just a touch bashful - as it always did when Bob looked at you like you were the only person he could see.
“Worst decision of my life.”
The declaration was teasing, light and exaggerated, but neither of you truly regretted it. Though you were confident Bob was it for you, just as you were it for him, the years you spent apart gave you time to grow. You learned, matured, and became adults without fear of hurting one another along the way. That would’ve been significantly harder with the added worry of a long distance relationship and the first few deployments Bob endured - even if you worried about him, anyway.
It still managed to prompt a laugh from everyone, including Bob, as you returned your attention to the group. “We both came home for the holidays a few years ago, the first time we’d been there at the same time since we stopped seeing each other, and well… You know what they say. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”
Natasha, who knew you were high school sweethearts but hadn’t heard much beyond that, groaned as she gestured at you with her beer. “Ugh,” she scoffed, exaggerated and unable to hide the smile that lifted her lips. “I really want to be annoyed at how that sounds like the plot to some romance movie but it’s too cute to really be upset.”
Hangman, who had - surprisingly - remained quiet for the duration of the story, nodded his agreement. “It’s so cute,” he began, pushing away from the pool table, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“I think it’s nice. We’re all happy for you, Bob” Rooster declared, smile soft as he met your eyes, “and very glad to meet you.”
“Definitely,” Fanboy confirmed, smile bright as he nodded - seemingly uncaring that his helmet began to fall into his eyes. “And you’re a Trekkie! We’re growing in numbers every day.”
The conversation began to dissolve then, breaking apart into a series of side conversations you were no longer the center of as Payback urged Fanboy not to begin a conversation about which series was best. There was no telling when the novelty of your appearance would begin to wane - especially as Hangman and Coyote continued sparing you and Bob cursory glances - but their attention was beginning to wander.
That brief lull gave you a moment to tip your head and meet your husband’s eyes. The look in them was an endearing blend of concern and amusement as his lips curved into a thoughtful frown. “Are you okay?”
Bob’s concern was genuine and you could tell that he was worried his new, boisterous friends might be too much, but it was for naught. Though this was the largest group he’d ever introduced you to, the largest group he’d been content to be part of, you were glad to see that they all clearly cared for him.
Despite the initial teasing - and surprise - it was evident that they were all happy to see that he was loved. Natasha once confided that she’d been worried Bob was going home to an empty house after a night out, that they all worried he was lonely, but knowing that he had you eased that concern.
“I’m good.” The reason you worked so well together came down to a handful of similarities but a world of differences. Though you disliked being the center of attention as much as he did, you were fine with the weight of their intrigue so long, just as long as it meant his world was a little less money when you weren’t around. You lifted a hand to gently squeeze his bicep once more as you spared the group a glance. “I like them,” you assured him. “I’m really glad things are working out here.”
In that moment, you knew that he wasn’t as thrilled as he could’ve been. With the noise of so many thoughts racing through his mind, his mood soured slightly by overthinking and a little insecurity, he’d gone a little quieter than normal. Still, you knew just how relieved he was that his return to San Diego could be good for both of you.
“I am, too.” He drew you in closer then, wrapped an arm around your waist to squeeze you gently, before allowing Natasha to reclaim your attention. “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, crooked smile on full display as she gestured to the small table with a few others.
Bob had never been one to really belong, to fall readily into a group and be at the heart of it rather than the periphery, but this time seemed different. He was still quiet, sometimes forgotten in the fray, but it eased your own anxiety to see them casually toss out questions or pull him into moments of conversation. 
Watching Rooster and Bob converse easily, watching him toss out a few quips at Hangman, watching him laugh with Fanboy; each moment was small in comparison to the grand scheme of things, but each was a great moment. Seeing him find that camaraderie made the move worth it, the stress and the anxiety of building your life from scratch all over again, and you were glad to join him for the ride.
And as you watched him interact, laughing as Payback and Fanboy each attempted to sway him to their side of an argument, you couldn’t help but smile. Though there was still a tension in his shoulders, you could tell he’d calmed enough to start pulling out of his head and returning to the Robbie you knew and loved.
The novelty of your appearance was gone, no longer a thought to those who had no interest in Robert Floyd, and with the weight of so many gazes gone from his shoulders, it seemed as if he could breathe freely once more. He looked as relaxed as you’d ever seen him in the presence of so many people, as at ease as he could be, and you took advantage of the moment of calm.
A soft press to his shoulder distracted him momentarily, drew his full attention from the conversation he’d been in with Rooster, as you offered him a smile. “The buttons are still being weird,” you informed him, gesturing to the top he’d heard you complain about a handful of times already. “I’m going to see if I can fix them. Didn’t want you worrying I got swept out to sea,” you teased, grinning as the apples of his cheeks flushed pink when his eyes fell to your chest.
Without sparing a glance over your shoulder, you knew that Bob refused to let you out of his sight until you disappeared into the small corridor housing the bathrooms. Anywhere else and he would’ve offered to walk with you, to settle at a table near the doors until you were done, but he trusted the Hard Deck a little more than anywhere else he’d taken you - and trusted that you could handle any unwanted attention. He still kept a watchful eye on you, ready to race to your side should you need him, and the thought made you smile, even as you fiddled with the buttons of your top.
When you managed to pull yourself together as best as you could - the top was not one you cared that much about saving as there was no other occasion you could see yourself donning it - but before you could step back into the hallway, a warm set of hands fell to your biceps and gently nudged you back into the room.
The familiar scent of citrus and pine, warm and bright, hit your nose just as the only voice you wanted to hear calmed your now racing heart. “Just me,” Bob assured you, crooked grin softening when you lifted your eyes to meet his. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
As you lifted a hand to your chest, fingers pressing against warm skin, you laughed quietly. “You did,” you teased, voice a touch breathless. The rapid thrum of your heart, a split second of shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins, earned a light laugh from him as you shook your head. “But it’s fine. It is Halloween. Everything alright?”
Bright eyes darkened slightly, a touch stormier than his usual blue, but his features were more relaxed than they had been only moments earlier. The smile on his lips was real, soft and small but genuine, as he hummed. “Fine,” he assured you, nodding as he reached behind his back to lock the door. “Just wanted a second alone.”
When things got a little chaotic, crowd too hectic to. Handle for long moments, he had a habit of stepping away for solace. More often than not, you were pulled along and you couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“You’ll never catch me complaining about that.”
Some small part of you assumed this would be like any other moment of quiet, a brief reprieve from the noise and the crowd just outside the door, but it seemed as if Bob had other plans. His fingers began to brush along the exposed skin of your hips and stomach, touch feather light but leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you searched his face.
There was a look of determination there, a resolve that you didn’t quite understand, but before you could question it, he dipped his head to press his mouth to yours.
The kiss was light, a soft embrace that had you sighing quietly and pressing yourself just a little closer, but you could feel the emotion behind it as his hands stroked your sides. While he wasn’t one for public displays - and while he was able to beautifully communicate his feelings with you - he had a habit of allowing his actions to speak for themselves.
It was rare that he got in this mood, a little anxious and a lot determined - to do what, you weren’t sure; prove himself, remind himself that you were his, quiet his anxiety with the taste of you on his tongue - but you allowed him to take what he needed as he slowly began to walk you backward.
Regardless of the tone set for the night, there was always a gentleness to Bob’s touch. Even when his fingers dug into your hips, short nails biting at the skin while he urged you back against the counter, he was careful to avoid hurting you.
There would be marks there tomorrow, a memory of his touch branded into your skin, but the way he caressed the tender spots always made any momentary discomfort worth it. And any future annoyance - minor, in comparison to everything else - remained far from the forefront of your mind as his hands began to wander.
Under any other circumstances, Bob’s hands would’ve found their way beneath the hem of your top. But given the time you’d had with buttons - and the knowledge you’d given him beforehand, that when the night was over, he could remove the top from you himself - he was careful to stick to teasing brushes of his fingers along your heated skin.
“Robbie.” The sigh of his name was muffled by his mouth, spoken into the relative quiet of the bathroom, and his answering hum drew laughter from you. “Not that I’m upset at all by this turn of events, but where is this coming from?”
Bob pulled away then, lips parted and glasses slightly askew, to smile at you. His hands remained on your skin, lightly caressing the expanse of skin just above the waistband of your pants, as he dipped his head. “I don’t know if I’ve already said this tonight, but you look amazing. I… it’s been hard to think about anything else,” he admitted, flushing slightly as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. “Just really wanted to kiss you.”
It was almost impossible to count how many times he complimented you before leaving home - how many different ways he declared his affection, his pure adoration - but his confession brought a smile to your lips as you raked your fingers through his hair.
“You might’ve mentioned it a couple times, but it’s still nice to hear.” Bob hummed, voice catching in his throat, as you scratched lightly at the base of his neck. He leaned into your touch, eager to lose himself in you, as you grinned. “Kiss me again, please.”
One of the features of your relationship - something you treasured beyond words - was his comfort with the give and take. Despite his reserved nature, Bob was comfortable with you. You’d been there from the beginning, had the experience of being one another’s first and, hopefully, last. There was no room for judgement and he knew that.
Bob could take what he wanted - knew that you would give it freely - and pin you to the nearest flat surface in search of it. He could be domineering, take charge and leave you breathless and desperate, but he could also hand over the reins with no qualms.
Tonight, you imagined you were both on equal footing. Bob wanted to take, you wanted to give. He needed a light push, a nudge in the direction he so desperately wanted to go, and you were happy to give it to him.
The second kiss grew more intense, much faster. There was no secret what he wanted - you could feel the evidence of his desire pressed to your thigh, just as you could feel your own desire beginning to gather between your thighs - and you were happy to give it to him.
Instead of allowing him to continue brushing the waistband of your pants, you popped the button before taking his hand to slip it beneath the navy fabric. You could feel the corner of his lip quirk in a lopsided smile, glad that you wanted the same thing he did, as he complied and slipped his hand between your thighs.
Bob wasted no time nudging the fabric of your panties aside, fingers gathering slick as his thumb bumped your clit. His mouth remained on yours, tang of beer barely noticeable over the mint gum he’d popped the moment you disappeared into the bathroom, as you inhaled sharply at the touch.
“We have to be quick.” Your reminder was muffled but understandable, easy to follow given the circumstances, and Bob hummed his acknowledgment. Public displays were not his favorite, but this was not the first time you’d found yourselves locked in a bar bathroom.
Instead of replying, Bob was quick to remove his hand from between your thighs. He swallowed your huff of disappointment with a laugh as he began to tug the fabric of your pants and panties down and only broke the kiss to follow.
When he fell to his knees, blue eyes lifting to yours, you let out a noise half-way between a whine and a laugh. Bob lifted a finger to his mouth and shushed you, crooked grin growing brighter as he placed a hand below your knee to hitch your leg over his shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he urged, though it was uttered amidst a quiet laughter. “There’s still a party going on.”
Even as he turned his head, pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh - tracing a path he’d committed to memory over the years - your fingers fell to his head as you spared the door a glance. “You sure about this, Robbie? Any of them hear, they’re never going to let you live it down."
“Hate to break it to you,” he hummed, hands smoothing over your skin as he inched closer to where you wanted him, “but I’m already not going to live this down. Everyone knows I have a hot wife, completely out of my league. They’re never letting this go.”
Before you could refute his claim, roll your eyes and chide him for allowing their line of thinking to taint his thoughts, he leaned in and dragged his tongue through your folds. He licked a broad strip, tongue flat and mouth eager, and you could only do so much to keep yourself quiet.
The sight of him alone was enough to have you keening, desperate and eager for him. Those bright blue eyes, blinking up at you from between your parted thighs; hair mussed, curls breaking free from the hold of gel with every drag of your fingers; glasses knocked askew, fogged with the heat of your body and his cheeks as he presses even closer.
Bob had never been one to half-ass your pleasure, always eager to give you exactly what you deserved, and the space made no difference. His fingers dug into your hip to keep you in place, to drag you closer to his mouth as he moaned into you. His tongue swiped, lapped at the aching bundle of nerves, as those eyes searched your face for any hint of discomfort. When he found none, he asked, “Good?”
“So good, Robbie.” Over the years, he’d gotten it down to an art. Bob knew you better than anyone, could read your body better than you at times, and you were reminded of just how easily he could send you soaring the moment he began to alternate between soft flicks of his tongue and broad strokes.
You lifted one hand to your mouth, eager to keep quiet, while the other fell to his hair. You tangled the curls between your fingers, no longer caring about the gel you were ruining, and tugged lightly with every flick of his tongue. Bob gave his all and you took all that you could, grinding your hips and chasing your pleasure.
It was almost embarrassing, just how quick he was able to work you over, but when he knew your body this well, it would’ve been hard for him to do anything more than have you seeing stars. He knew the signs of your impending orgasm, could tell the moment you began to whine and shift in his grasp, and he encouraged you to come with a moan as his eyes lifted to yours.
As you barreled over the edge, Bob helped you through, never stopping his kitten licks as he swallowed all you had to give. Soft hands caressed your skin, touch gentle as you came down, and those blue eyes never left your face as you attempted to catch your breath.
Silence lingered for a moment, your ragged breathing the only sound aside from the dim noise of the party outside the door, before you laughed and shook your head. “I think I’m fine calling it a night if you are.”
Bob grinned, expression bright and eager, as he helped you back into your pants. He took the help you offered for his hair, despite how impossible you both knew it would be to flatten the curls now that they’d been destroyed, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your mouth.
“Lead the way.”
As you made your way through the crowd, back to the bar to pay your tab, all eyes fell to you once more. This time, however, Bob didn’t shrink beneath the weight of their gazes. Their looks were knowing, easily picking apart the pieces of you both that clearly displayed what you’d been doing. But instead of rushing out, he kept a hand on your hip and hid his smile. 
Sometimes, even if a little embarrassment bloomed in the pit of his stomach, the attention was worth it. And even though he knew he’d never hear the end of it, Bob wasn’t quite so sure he minded. Because at the end of the night, he had friends he cared for and the love of his life. And, really, what more could he ask for?
_____________________________________________
Author’s Note: The first time writing for someone new is always a little nerve-racking. Also, the costume might not be realistic for everyone (I wouldn’t wear it) but that’s my dream costume and Bob strikes me as a Trekkie. I’m not sure if this is totally in character for him. He'd be fun to write angst for, though, I think.
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make-me-imagine · 2 years ago
Text
Secret Santa: Part One
12 Days of Christmas: Day 10
Plot: When you and the squad end up taking part in a Secret Santa exchange. The gifts you receive end up being love confessions. But who are they from?
[Bob's Ending] [Fanboy's Ending] [Hangman's Ending] [Rooster's Ending] [Maverick's Ending]
Pairing: Gn!Reader x ??? (Choose your own character ending) *Possible Endings: Bob, Fanboy, Rooster, Hangman & Maverick
Words: 2.9k
A/n: Bob and Fanboys endings will be posted Christmas Eve. And the other three will come out Christmas Day. I will add the links to this fic once they are posted.
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Walking towards the training room, you heard the familiar voices of the other pilots. You had been reunited with the dagger squad, and some other pilots you knew from the past. Another mission, another training program, trained once again by Maverick.
Through the grueling training and test flights, you were enjoying your time being with the others again. Though you had to admit you were excited about one, more than the others, but you were sure they didn't know that.
As you entered the room, your eyes cast over the group. Hangman and Rooster were bickering as usual, while Bob and Phoenix rolled their eyes. Fanboy, Payback and Coyote watched silently, sharing the occasional look.
Seeing you enter Jake turned in his seat "Y/n, perfect, perhaps you could solve our little problem."
"Nope, no." You shook your head as you took your seat, "Do not drag me into whatever is going on, I don't want to be a part of it."
Phoenix and Bob snickered as Jake leaned over"Come on, I think you'd be on my side."
"Like hell they would." Rooster broke in.
You shook your head with a soft smile as you saw Maverick enter. "Pilots, good morning." He said with a cheery voice.
His eyes ran over you and the others as he walked past. In his hands was a Santa hat.
As he stopped at the podium he looked at all of you in silence for a short moment. "Before we start our training today, I thought we might have a little Christmas fun."
You quirked your brow and sat up a bit, you saw the others do the same.
"Sir?" Bob asked with a curious tone.
"Secret Santa!" He said with a smile.
A small murmur went over the group as Maverick shook the hat in his hands. "In this hat are all of our names. You will each pick a name, and over the next three days, starting tomorrow, you have to give your person three gifts."
"Three?" Jake spoke up.
"Yes, three. On day three, by the end of the day, you must give me a slip of paper with the name of the person you gifted, and the name of the person you think is your gift giver. If you guess correctly, you get a day off of training. If you are wrong. You will be cleaning up after the Christmas party."
A small groan came from the group as you all pictured what mess would be left behind after that.
"There are two rules. One, don't get caught leaving your person a gift, or you are disqualified. Two, do not tell anyone who your person is."
As Maverick walked around holding the hat out for everyone to take a name, your eyes scanned over everyone. You wonder who would be the easiest person to buy a gift for. Your eyes lingered on one person as you thought of a thousand things you could get them.
"If you get yourself, grab a different name." He said softly as he continued down the line.
Getting to you, he gave you a small smile as you reached in. Pulling out a slip of paper you opened it to read 'Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace.' You smiled softly before closing the paper and shoving it in your pocket.
After everyone had chosen their names, the class went on like usual, though you knew everyone was a bit distracted, thinking of what to get their chosen person. Though it wasn't a competition, a familiar buzz ran through the room.
You tried not to look at Phoenix, not wanting to give away she was who you got. But you did glance around, wondering if you might find someone looking at you.
You would be lying if you didn't have someone particular in mind as to who you hoped might be your secret Santa. The same person you thought would be the easiest to buy for. Though, the luck of them getting you was pretty small.
By the end of training you had enough time left to go out and try to find a gift for Phoenix. You had thought long and hard about the types of gifts she might like, but you still struggled. Knowing she had a thing for antique and vintage objects, you thought going to an antique store might do the trick.
Walking through the store, you looked at various objects, before finally landing on an old hourglass carved out of wood. It was certainly unique, and looked old. Buying it, you hoped she would like it. Knowing you wouldn't really know for a few days.
Making it back to the base after another hour of shopping you felt relieved, having bought three gifts for Phoenix, and some wrapping paper.
As you walked down the corridor, you saw Bob walking towards you. He smiled and his eyes caught on the wrapping paper in your hands.
"Don't tell me you got all your gifts already?" He asked with mild surprise.
You smiled "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't" You said jokingly as you continued past him, seeing him smile at you as he nodded in understanding.
As you rounded the corner, you looked back, seeing him disappear around the corner. 'I bet he's a great gift giver' You thought to yourself as you made your way back to your room.
Unpacking your shopping bags, you looked at the gifts you got Natasha. The hourglass, a gift card for one of her favorite shops she could never convince herself to buy something from, and a Phoenix pendant necklace you managed to find by chance in a cute shop near the beach. You had almost jumped in excitement when you saw it.
After wrapping the gifts, you finally went to sleep, your last thoughts being about who may have picked your name from the hat.
--- --- ---
During your break in between training the next day, you snuck Natasha's first present out of your room and quickly made your way to her room. Setting the present down in front of her door, you rushed back to your room. Breathing a breath of relief as no one spotted you.
As you rounded the corner to your room, you stopped as you spotted a bouquet of flowers placed at your door.
"Wha-" You looked back down the hall in bewilderment.
You had only been gone for a few minutes, and you hadn't seen or heard anyone else.
"Sneaky" You whispered to yourself as you walked up to your door.
Picking up the flowers, you smiled at them. It was a beautiful bouquet of Gardenias in an ornamental Christmas colored vase. You smelled them as you made your way into your room.
You knew it was a well known fact that you loved flowers, and often knew the meaning behind them, enjoying the symbolism of each individual flower. You were teased by some of the others about this in the past, which didn't really narrow down who might be your secret Santa.
"Gardenias" You muttered to yourself as you tried to remember the meaning behind them.
Seeing a small note in the flowers, you pulled it out to see a short typed note.
'There's importance in the symbolism.'
You smiled as you remembered saying this once when the others were teasing you about why you were so determined to get the right flowers for someone as a gift.
Thinking back to that moment, you tried to remember who was in the room. Maverick, Hangman, Rooster, Bob, Fanboy and Coyote. Well, that doesn't narrow it down much.
"Appreciation? No, that's not it. Joy!" You knew that was at least one of them.
Setting the flowers on your table, you pulled out your phone to look it up. As you scrolled through the meaning of gardenias, your eyes caught on one particular meaning.
"Secret Love?" You asked softly, your heart beating heavily in your chest.
No, it could be the 'you're lovely' meaning. Just a friendly message. Not an admission. Unless it was?
As someone popped into your head, you felt a mild sense of hope, before you pushed it away. It might be a mistake. They may not have seen the meaning of gardenias as secret love.
You decided not to focus on this too much. Not until you knew more, maybe the next gift would tell you?
Hearing your alarm, you made your way out of your room for your next test flight. You took one last look at the flowers as you went.
As much as you tried, the idea of the flowers left for you being a confession stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but look at the others, wondering if it could be any of them.
You had hopeful thoughts for one, but that was all it was. Hope. There wasn't anything that made it seem obvious that they had feelings for you. Nor had there been from any of the others.
You were close to all of them, good friends. But secret love? You really weren't sure.
--- --- ---
The next day the pilots were abuzz with talk of their presents. Each trying to trick their Secret Santa into giving themselves away. Everyone eyed each other with suspicious gazes.
Natasha briefly mentioned the hourglass, and you could tell she had liked it. That was all the gratification you needed.
You kept your present to yourself, knowing that everyone would tease you about the flowers. Asking what their meaning was. You didn't want to out the meaning in case it was a mistake. So you played coy, only making everyone else more curious.
"Maybe their secret Santa forgot to give them their present?" Fanboy asked as he eyed you, his chin resting on the back of the chair in front of him.
You smiled softly at him and made a motion of a zipper across your lips as you looked to the front of the class as Maverick entered.
"Alright everyone, I know you are all talking about your secret Santa's Anyone get caught leaving a present?"
The was silence among the crowd and Maverick smiled "Good, stealth is important, I'd be disappointed if anyone got caught."
You were nervous to head back to your room after training. Expecting another present to be left for you. There was an odd sense of suspense, that you weren't sure was based around excitement or dread.
As you rounded the corner, and your eyes locked onto your door, you felt an odd pang in your chest as you saw nothing sitting at your door. Maybe they hadn't had time to leave it? Maybe they changed their mind on the prssent?
Getting to your door, you opened it, accepting that you were a bit disappointed. As you stepped into your room, you flinched as a small box fell from your door and bounced off your head, landing on the ground.
"What the hell?" You asked perplexed as you looked up at your door, seeing a small piece of tape, had been holding the box there. "How the hell-" You mumbled off as you reached down and grabbed the box.
You looked over at the window, wondering if they used it to get in. Or maybe they got the key?
Opening the small box, your heart was racing. Would this present give away another secret? Would it confirm or deny the meaning of the flowers? And why tape it to the door?
Seeing a small chain, you grabbed it and pulled it out, revealing a small glass apple on the end. It was cute, but you wondered why they chose it of all things.
Seeing a piece of paper in the box, you pulled it out. Taking a deep breath as you opened it.
Another typed out message.
'Did you know in Ancient Greece, to throw an apple at someone was a declaration of love?'
Your breath caught in your throat as you read over the message again and again. To throw an apple? So the rigged the box to fall on you as though they were throwing it at you?
You wanted to laugh, but your heart was hammering too heavily. You sat on your bed and looked over at the gardenias. So it did mean secret love. That wasn't a misunderstanding.
As you sat there, thinking it over, more realizations came to mind.
The person who got you happened to be in love with you, and was now using the secret Santa exchange as a way to tell you.
You let out a long drawn out breath. You were touched, and excited, yet nervous. There was only one person out of all the pilots these gifts would really mean something from. If it was any of the others, could you ever feel the same?
Who would know about Ancient Greece? You wondered. It definitely seemed like some odd fact Bob, Rooster or Fanboy might pick up at some point. Hangman could be a secret romantic. Maverick was playing the game too and he knew a lot about random things.
You felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over you. Lying down you stared up at your cieling as you held the small apple necklace to your chest. It wasn't obvious who it could be. Would it be an insult to this person to keep hoping it was one specific person?
It would only hurt you more if you kept hoping it was them, and you were wrong.
Maybe the third gift would give it away. Sitting up, it suddenly donned on you that you needed to leave Natasha her second gift.
"Shit." You muttered as you looked over at envelope with the gift card. I could slip it into her locker, you thought. Or slip it under her door.
This secret Santa exchange took such a different turn than you were expecting, and you really didn't know how to act.
Looking at the clock, you saw it was nearly time to head out. You were all heading out to get dinner. You'd take the envelope with you, hoping to find a moment to slip it into her bag or car sometime during the night.
And maybe you could gather some hints about who might be your secret...admirer?
--- --- ---
As you walked across the tarmac the next day, your eyes landed on the person walking up to you.
"Nice time." Rooster said as he slowed in his step.
"Thanks, think you can beat it?" You asked with a teasing tone.
"I know I can." He winked before continuing past you and towards his jet.
You smiled and shook your head softly as you headed towards the locker room. After a long day of training, you were finally done.
You even managed to slip the last gift for Phoenix into her bag this morning. Having slipped the envelope under her door the previous night once you got back from the dinner.
During said dinner, hen the topic of secret Santa came up, you tried to pay attention To hints of who might be your secret Santa. But you learned nothing, everyone was keeping it close to their chests.
Today was the last day of the Secret Santa exchange. By eight this evening you had to give Maverick a slip of paper with your guess on it. You had yet to receive your third gift, and had yet to figure out who it was.
Opening your locker, you watched as an envelope fell to the floor. You looked around, seeing and hearing no one else in the room. Picking it up, you opened it, with your heart beating faster than before.
The third gift, what would it be? A full length confession? A gift card?
As you pulled two slips of paper out, your mouth opened slightly in surprise.
One slip was a ticket to a Christmas festival behind held about an hour away tomorrow night. You had wanted to go, but the tickets sold out too fast.
The second piece of paper was a short note, once again typed out.
'I have the other ticket, find me there.'
You stared at the paper in contemplation. So they had every intention of you finding out who they were after all. 'Find me there.'
It had to be someone who knew you wanted to go to the festival. Who did you mention it to?
Thinking back on it you sighed. Five of them knew about the ticket. That hardly narrowed it down. Though you were still aware that that specific someone always on your mind was one of them.
Tucking the ticket and note back into the envelope you put it in your duffle. You needed to decide what to do.
Not only who to guess, but whether or not you were ready to find out who they were. To find out who apparently had hidden feelings for you.
Your mind was heavy with uncertainty as you headed to Maverick's office at the end of the day. As you knocked on the door and handed him the paper, your heart was never steady.
You didn't know who you would find at the festival tomorrow, but you knew who you wanted it to be. Whether or not it was them, you would go, you had to. And if it was someone that you didn't have feelings for, well, you would deal with it then. No matter what.
Even with the nerve wracking thought it was unrequited love you might be finding at the festival, the hope that it was not unrequited, that it was a shared feeling, hidden between the two of you, made it worth the risk.
You just hoped you still thought that tomorrow.
xx End xx
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazansky, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @phoenix1389
Hangman/Rooster Taglist: @readingwithatorch,
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ereardon · 2 years ago
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What Are You Thinking?
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Summary: Bob Floyd is a quiet man. Sometimes you have to ask him what he’s thinking just to know what wheels are turning inside of his head. He always gives you a response, until one day, years into your marriage, he turns the question on you. 
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader 
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: Cursing, death, pregnancy 
Tell me what you’re thinking, you asked softly. 
Bob smiled and pulled you in closer, the heat of his body warming the blankets as you snuggled closer to him in the bed you shared. I’m thinking that I love you. And that was the best damn pie I’ve ever had in my life.
You giggled as he pressed his soft lips to yours, one large hand coming around to cup your head gently. 
For seven years, Bob had never once dismissed your question. You asked it all the time, always trying to read the quiet aviator. Even after years together, marriage and children, part of you always needed to know exactly where his mind was at. 
What are you thinking, you had asked Bob the first night you met. Standing outside the Hard Deck, the cold wind whipping at your bare shoulders. You were in a sundress, and Bob shrugged off his jacket and laid it gently on your shoulders, letting his fingertips hover lightly on your arms before he pulled back. When you had walked in two hours before, Rooster had set his sights on you, but you had turned down his offer of a free drink, waltzing over to the quiet bespeckled man in the corner, sliding into the empty seat next to him, laughing softly as he fumbled his words and his cup full of peanuts. Asked him to dance like no one was watching. Felt his warm hands on your waist. Laid your head to rest on his chest as he moved you in slow circles around the bar dance floor. Turned your face up toward his and smiled. Nodded when he asked you to go for a walk on the beach. Pressed your chest against him, trailed your fingers up to behind his neck, pulled his lips down to meet yours, felt his hands roam the expanse of your back before landing on your waist, grip so tight it would leave bruises that you wanted tattooed across your skin to seal in the memory. 
I’m thinking I never expected this to happen for me, he replied and you wound your arms around him and pulled him in tight and you knew from that moment on you belonged to him.
What are you thinking, you asked the first time he met your extended family back in North Carolina. They were loud and brash and there was always the smell of coffee lingering in the mornings in the house and the sound of thundering footsteps of your nieces and nephews and music flooded the air and you watched as Bob sat quietly and patiently in the living room as your relatives flocked around the handsome aviator, peppering him with questions about the Navy and his intentions with you. 
Bob smiled back at you, eyes sparkling. I’m thinking I can’t wait for them to be my family, too. 
What are you thinking, you asked, turning to Bob where he sat next to you on the sandy beach as the sun slid low on the horizon, casting a sherbert-colored spray across the skyline. 
That I want to spend all of my sunsets with you. He turned to you and smiled. Marry me? 
You cried as he slipped the thin band onto your finger. 
A year later, Bob cried as you walked down the aisle in a satin dress in front of only a handful of family and friends. 
What are you thinking, you whispered nervously as Bob stared at the small test inside of the gift bag. You had rushed to shove it in there, not even bothering to fill the rest of the bag with tissue. 
He pulled it out and held it up, squinting at it, before turning to you, his beautiful face breaking out into a smile. I’m going to be a dad! He pulled you into his arms and you cried as he pressed his forehead to yours and told you how excited he was to see you as a mother. 
What are you thinking, you sobbed once the doctor had left the room after explaining they needed to do more testing to rule out genetic disorders after what she had seen on the ultrasound. 
Bob held your hand in his, pressed a kiss to your temple. Whatever the tests say, we can handle it. 
When they placed your son in his father’s arms for the first time, you smiled up at him, exhausted. What are you thinking? 
Bob gazed down at his squirming son. That he’s perfect. And he looks like you. 
What are you thinking? Bob had just been assigned a mission. Something so incredibly dangerous they had been told to prepare not to come home. Bob found you weeping next to the side of the bed, your son playing in his room with his legos, blissfully unaware that his father had just been called for assignment. 
Bob knelt down and wiped the tears from under your eyes. I love you, he whispered softly. I’m coming home to you, no matter what. You two are my life. 
And he did come home, two months later. He grabbed his son as he leapt into his arms. His eyes widened as you approached him next, belly already rounding out with the second child he didn’t know had been his parting gift to you before the mission. Bob gave you a questioning look and you nodded, and he laughed, tossing his arms around you, pulling you both in for a hug. 
You didn’t have to ask what he was thinking when you saw the doctor place your daughter into Bob’s arms after the C-section. It was written across his face. 
It was the way he looked at you that first night on the beach. The way his eyes locked onto yours as you walked down the aisle, blurring out everyone but him. The way he softened at your touch and how he gazed on your son when he returned home from deployment. 
Three years later, Bob was the one to ask you what you were thinking as you sat down on the couch in shock. 
He took your hands into his own. What are you thinking, Bob asked. 
That I’m not ready to do this alone.
He nodded sadly, face stricken with grief. I know, baby. I wish you didn’t have to. God, I’d give anything to make sure you didn’t have to. 
In the end, you didn’t even have to say it. The words were frozen on your lips, as the machines beeped quietly in the background, Bob’s hand gripped tightly in yours. He was weak, but he was still there. 
I love you, he said and you looked up through the tears. His voice was hoarse, barely audible. That’s what I’m thinking sweetheart. I love you and I love this life we’ve built and I am so sorry that I can’t be here to see it through. 
His eyes caught yours and for the first time, you didn’t have to talk to know what he was thinking. Bob Floyd was the man of your dreams. 
The sun beat down on your shoulders. Everyone else had left. Your son’s hand was warm in your own, your daughter hiked onto your hip, her chubby legs pulling at the black fabric of your dress. 
What are you thinking, your son asked and you smiled down at him. He was too young to understand, but old enough not to forget. He looked so much like Bob when the sunlight caught him just right. 
How much your daddy loved you, you whispered to him. Now blow daddy a kiss. It’s time to go. 
You watched your son press his hand to the casket, leaving a handprint on the glossy wood. 
If Bob had been there, he wouldn’t have had to ask what you were thinking. He would just know. 
Tag list: @double-j @hangmandruigandmav @momc95 @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @brehonodea @crthurston @angelbabyange @jason-toddsthighs @secretsicanthideanymore @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @showmethewayhomehoney @wkndwlff @mygyn @tvjunkie08 @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @seresinhangmanjake
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callsign-cree · 2 years ago
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tracing | robert "bob" floyd
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synopsis | bob loved tracing y/n's palm, and he decided one way to make the view better for the both of them.
warnings | cute bob. afab!reader + she/her pronouns
genre | fluff
wordcount | 0.6k
note | i love bob. thats it. thats the note.
------
she started noticing it a few weeks in. the soft touch of his fingers floating across her palm. he would follow the curves and branches of the creases in a looping pattern. it tickled at first but turned soothing, and by the look of bob, it did the same for him. 
“i like tracing the lines in your palm…it’s distracting.” said bob, trailing his index over the indented creases of her palm. y/n glanced up as she lay into him on the couch, his legs wrapped around her body. leaning back into his chest, she smiled, watching as he continued tracing. 
“i like when you trace them too.” said y/n, taking hold of his moving hand with hers and caressing her thumb across the top. bob’s level breathing calmed her. the smooth, long drawn-out breaths of satisfaction and contentment. leaning her head back, she felt bob kiss the side of her temple. it lasted longer than usual, she couldn’t help but giggle. y/n could feel him smile as he began to pepper her cheek with kisses, slowly moving down until he pressed one, long kiss to her jaw. 
y/n hummed. “what do you want?” 
“nothing..” muttered bob, resting his head in the nape of her neck. wrapping his arms around her, y/n smiled turning her head to look at him. 
“are you sure?”
bob brought his head up, glancing at her before kissing her cheek and readjusting. removing his arm from her body, y/n felt him dig around in his pant pocket. 
“close your eyes…” his southern drawl sent shivers down her spine. closing her eyes, y/n felt bob readjust and wrap his arm around her again. 
“open..” said bob, y/n opened her eyes to spot a black velvet box in his hands. jaw slacking slightly, she furrowed her brows. without words, bob opened the box to reveal a simple ring with a small diamond in the middle. 
“oh my god.” gasped y/n, staring at the ring held out in front of her. 
“will you marry me?” said bob.
y/n turned to face him, before pulling his cheeks to catch his lips. smiling into the kiss, y/n muttered ‘yes’ multiple times between each kiss. bob chuckled and pulled the back of her head toward him, deepening the kiss. pulling apart, bob rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes before breaking out into a smile. tears welled in y/n’s eyes, her cheeks started to hurt from smiling. 
“i love you..” said bob, curling in his bottom lip to stop from crying.
“i love you more.” said y/n, feeling her tears fall. 
bob laughed, pulling his head back and wiping the tears from his eyes.
“now you get to trace my palm whenever you want…” said y/n, wiggling her ring finger in front of him, “with a nicer view.”
“i already had a nice view, i just had to make sure it was never going to leave me.” said bob, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it. grabbing the velvet box from the cushion, bob pulled out the ring and placed it on her finger. y/n watched intensely, smiling as the ring settled nicely on her ring finger. bob grabbed her hand before placing one last kiss on it and looking at her. 
“i know its not the best-” started bob, but was stopped mid-sentence with a kiss from y/n. 
y/n shook her head with a growing smile, “its better than the best…because i know you bought it with the intent of loving me forever and thats all i need.”
bob smiled, placing the box on the table and grabbing her cheeks, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. melting into it, y/n grinned into it. she couldn’t of asked for a better man in her life, even if his version of fun was tracing her palm. but she didn’t mind one bit.
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