Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

Pt. 2

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

Pt. 2

Tags

Top gun xreader bradley bradshaw x reader rooster bradshaw fic

Robert "Bob" Floyd Master List

₊˚⊹ Robert "Bob" Floyd ₊˚⊹

˖⁺‧₊ Key₊‧⁺˖

♡ xFem!Reader

☁︎ xDisabled!Reader

ꨄ︎ Soulmate AU

One Shots & Two Shots

Joy in Shattered Glass ~ Written for @/sailor-aviator's Christmas writing challenge!

(Coming Soon!)

Requests Open!

Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole ~ A second chance romance! Reader's Best friend! Natasha Trace and Asshole! Bob Floyd (In Progress) ♡ ( x Reader )

Series

Sneak Peek

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen (Coming Soon)

Part Fifteen (Coming Soon)

Fated to Run - Fated to Fly ♡ꨄ︎ (COMPLETE. WC 24,700+) ~ A four part soulmate AU where the words "Oh, it's just Bob" are scrawled onto the readers skin, but it's not Bob who says them, but the first person the reader meets who talks about Bob! A little twist on the soulmate thing!

1 2 3 4

Tags

robert floyd bob floyd robert bob floyd bob floyd x reader robert floyd x reader bob floyd x y/n bob floyd x you robert floyd fic robert floyd imagine robert floyd x you

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starfulhabitz

2 weeks ago

Would anyone be interested in any of these ideas for Bob Floyd x Reader stuff? 🫣 cause I might be brewing something up in the wipsss

- Bob Floyd x Reader : You are Bobs childhood friend, venturing out to for a job opportunity that counts as a secretary at the Naval Base and he ends up finding out due to her going to the Hard Deck ???

- Bob Floyd x Reader : You are a teacher and there’s a field trip to the Naval Base, and that’s where Bob snd reader meet eye to eye and sparks fly yay!! Hes good with the kids—well all his team is— but he sticks out to you.

- Bob Floyd x Reader : Youre bobs ex lover. Not officially married but both of you too afraid to take that step. Only thing keeping you together? Your children, both twins. One girl, one boy. Both troublemakers and full of mischief to get their parents back together.

Tags

bob floyd top gun: maverick x reader robert bob floyd bob floyd x reader robert bob floyd x reader bob floyd fanfiction bob floyd imagine bob floyd fluff top gun maverick fanfic

47 notes View Post

starfulhabitz

1 year ago

me, a supposed writer, when i can’t find the very specific scenario i made up in my head in any fanfic: am i- am i supposed to write it myself??

18K notes View Post

starfulhabitz

8 months ago

Cards Close to the Chest // Bob Floyd

Summary: When Bob & Phoenix fall from the sky, Bob’s closest kept secrets come to light as two of the most important people in his life race to his side.

Warnings: Bob Floyd x F!reader. Fluff (poorly written) Mild cock-sure Jake Seresin. Hospitals. F18 accident. Wholesome read.

Word Count: 3k

Author Note: I was just feeling some fluffy Bob content and I thought this would be a good way to break up the tension with all my over dramatic angst/whump. Thank you so much to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading this for me! Vee did gods work with this one.

Main Masterlist | Bob Floyd Masterlist

No significant other wants to receive that call. That dreaded call that tells you that the inevitable has happened. That phone call that sucks all the air from your lungs and replaces it with cement. The very phone call that alters your perception of life, of time, of all the small arguments you ever had with the person you love so dearly. It's the phone call no significant other wants to receive.

“Is this Mrs Floyd?” The man on the other end of the line asked with a cautiousness that told you he really didn't want the answer to be yes. Your daughter, Millicent, sat in her high chair smashing bananas all over the surface of her tray. Getting to know the texture of the latest solid you had introduced her to.

“This is she? May I ask who's speaking?” You didn't mean to come across as defensive, but the panic inside your chest had well and truly begun to bloom. Your eyes lingered over to the pair of spare reading glasses your husband left lying around the small apartment the two of you and your young daughter had been staying in. If this was the phone call, the very phone call that was about to alter your life forever you couldn't help but to think of the last time you saw your husband wear those frames.

“Mrs Floyd, Y/n, my name is Pete Mitchell, Captain Mitchell, or Just Mav will do–” The man on the other end of the line rambled off the list of names he went by. You didn't care all that much, but you let him go on. Your eyes drifted back toward your daughter, the very embodiment of half you and half your husband. Robert Floyd. In your mind, you prayed to whatever god was listening that this wouldn't be the phone call every military spouse dreaded.

“There was an accident during a training exercise your husband was involved in this morning.” The words all sounded broken and inaudible, all but the few key details.

‘Husband’ ‘Involved’ ‘Accident’

“Is he–” Mav knew what the question was going to be, so he gave you no chance to ask, he wanted to be the one to call, he wanted to be the one to tell you that although your husband had been involved in a training accident, he was still in one piece and very much alive.

“He's alive, still very much in one piece ma’am–” Mav caught himself smiling ever so slightly, despite the looming knowledge in the back of his mind that the situation could have been a lot worse. “They want to keep him overnight for observation, so if you'd like to come in and see him, I'm sure Bob would really appreciate it.”

The sigh that left your body, the shock that overwhelmed you, the tears that stained your cheek you weren't aware were there all told you one thing—you couldn't live without your husband.

“O–okay.” You nodded to yourself as if the man on the other end of the line could see you. “Y-yes, I’ll, uh, just get our daughter sorted and I'll be right in.”

It was then Maverick’s turn to sit in the deafening silence that threatened to consume his entire being. Bob had a daughter? That added a whole other layer to the incident he hadn’t accounted for.

Bob kept that card close to his chest, his daughter, Mille, was his pride and joy.

“Try to keep in mind he's okay Mrs Floyd,. Your husband’s a very skilled weapons system officer and his training truly saved his life today.” You hadn’t taken your eyes off your daughter since you remembered how to breathe as you stood in the middle of the small apartment kitchen. She was so innocent, so young, so mesmerised by her dad that she would have known something was wrong if he didn't come home.

“It's never been my husband's ability that I doubt, Captain Mitchell.” You replied as you wiped away your tears and reached for a sponge to go about cleaning up your daughter's high chair mess. “It's the system he works for that keeps me up at night.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake Seresin had never been so relieved when he was told that both Bob and Phoenix were alright and almost injury-free. Phoenix had a few bumps and bruises, a minor cut on her forearm, and a minor concussion that would surely see her grounded for a week at the minimum.

Bob was the same, only his ribs had taken a pretty nasty beating when he hit the ground with an unprecedented amount of force. Still, the usually arrogant, somewhat self-loathing, and above all infuriatingly good aviator wasn't about to say how relieved he truly was.

But he did, however, offer to take Phoenix some personal belongings for her overnight stay in the chateau short-stay ward of the Miramar Base Hospital.

“Just hold on a minute, sweetheart!”

Jake didn't mean to stick his nose where it didn't belong, but the ear-piercing cries of a child that couldn't have been any older than one broke him out of his mid-afternoon trance. The carpark at the Base hospital was packed to the rafters, but surely there would have been a parent’s park closer to the entrance?

Jake wished with every fibre of his being that he could have kept walking, he wished he just could have kept putting one foot in front of the other. But his mother raised him right. With a heavy sigh and a regret deep in his chest, Jake doubled back a few paces and turned his attention to the woman struggling to get up the stroller.

“Ma’am, I hate to be a bother but do you need a hand?”

“Me?” You turned around to address the man who’d been the only person to stop while others had walked right on past and whispered under their breath. Some had even stopped to watch, but no one had offered a hand. “Yes, yes please I just need someone to–”

Assessing the situation, Jake was sure he knew what the issue was.

Within a few seconds of you trying to explain what was wrong, the man who’d stopped to help had placed the bag he was carrying over his shoulder down onto the ground and stepped hard onto the safety that was jammed.

“How did you know to do that?” You asked with a look of disbelief as you immediately raced around to grab your daughter out of the car. She was distraught. “Shhh, I’m here, see I told you just a few minutes, didn't I baby?” You tried your best to soothe the crying tot.

“My sister has the same stroller, gets jammed all the time.” the man smiled politely as he stood by the now perfectly erected stroller. “Jake, Jake Seresin.”

“I recognise the callsign–” You replied when you finally allowed yourself to take in what the man was wearing. The same Nomex flight suit your husband frequented more often than not. “Yeah, Hangman, you work with my husband.” You beamed as you bounced your daughter softly until she was calm enough to be placed into her stroller.

Jake was racking his brain trying to figure out who the hell your husband was. He thought he knew everything about everyone he worked with. From the secrets Rooster tried to keep to the fact Payback had a raging nut allergy. BuUt a wife and child? Who the hell had a wife and child and hadn’t bothered to mention it?

“I work with your husband?” Jake repeated back to you like he was still trying to play catch up. “Sorry, I must be having a mind blank, with all due respect to your husband.”

“Bob Floyd?” You mentioned your husband's name like it was honey on your tastebuds. Jake truly couldn't compute what you were saying. Bob fucking Floyd was married? Bob Floyd had a kid!? “He had a training accident earlier today with his front seater, scared the absolute hell out of me.” You tried to laugh, but you weren't about to mention to Jake that you'd spent the better half of forty-five minutes in the shower with your daughter having a full-blown panic attack after Mav had called.

“You're Bob's wife?” Jake asked with a frown that was so deeply indeed on his forehead you truly weren’t sure what was so wrong about the fact you were Bob's wife. “Bob has a wife?” As you clipped your daughter in, Jake picked up the bag he’d been carrying up to the entrance of the hospital before he stopped to help you.

“Together seven, married for three.” You proudly smiled as you started walking your daughter’s stroller towards the hospital. Jake kept himself in line, walking by your side as he tried to compute the information he was being delivered. “Bob’s a pretty private person, please don't be offended if he didn't tell you we existed.” This wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last time you were left to explain that yes, your husband was in fact your husband.

The chuckle that left Jake's mouth told you it wasn't about being offended.

“No Ma'am, no offence taken–” He explained through the shit- eating grin. “I just wasn't aware Bob had it in him is all.” The idea Bob had a wife was an easier pill to swallow than Bob having a whole ass child. In Jake's mind, Bob was far too ill-equipped to know how to use what he had. Or at least that was the rough opinion he had of the wallflower-esk weapons system officer. “But it's nice to know the guys got a family.”

“He does, he’s got us–” You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears. “Isn't that right, Millie girl?”

Jake had never stopped to wonder what the loves of his coworkers were like. Sure, he knew Phoenix and Rooster prior to their return to TopGun, but never once had he stopped to think if Bob had a family.

“He’s a real lucky guy.” Jake confirmed as he walked with you. “Gorgeous wife, cute kid, I'm sure he’s gonna be really happy to see you after the day he’s had.”

***~***~***~***~***~

In all the time Bob had flown for the United State Navy, this had been his closest call with death. The bed sheets that covered the small hospital bed scratched at his exposed skin. The paper-thin hospital gown that now adorned his body left little to the imagination if he stood.

The very last person Bob expected to see enter his hospital room was Jake Seresin. Bob thought he was having an all-out nightmare when the cock-sure aviator walked in with a shit-eating grin as wide as his cheeks would allow him.

“No–no absolutely not.” Bob shook his head in utter disbelief. “You don't get to come in here and give me shit after I fell hundreds of metres out of the sky.” It had been a rough day to say the very least and all Bob wanted more than anything else in the entire world was to hug you and his baby girl. “Hangman, I'm so serious right now–” Bob pressed as Jake stood with a proud chest and that smug ass grin by the door of his hospital room, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“You know, that's no way to talk to the man who saved your damsel in distress wife in the carpark–” Jake replied as you rounded the corner and pushed your daughter’s stroller into the hospital room. “Funny, I don't think any of us knew you were married, Floyd.”

Bob's demeanour immediately softened as you made your way over with tears of mixed emotions welling in your eyes. Bob’s eyes mimicked yours, those baby blue eyes were quick to fill with clear but heavy tears as you sat on his bedside.

“I'll leave you guys alone.” Jake knew when to leave a room, and he had someone else to go see after all. Phoenix, probably the only woman on the planet who could keep his ego from inflating to new heights. “Put some WD40 on the safety of your daughter's stroller too. It's starting to lock up–” Jake made sure to tell Bob before he left the room, still carrying the bag full of Natasha’s personal belongings he promised he would hand deliver. Bob's precious cargo however, the family that loved him to the moon and back and three times over, seemed like a more pressing delivery to complete first.

“Bob–” Your hands were on your husband's cheeks the second Bob leaned in to kiss your lips ever so tenderly. The pads of your thumbs worked to wipe away the tears that spilled over his lower lash line, staining his cheeks with a salty layer of tears. “What on earth am I gonna do with you, hey?” You smiled through the kiss, speaking against your husband's supplye lips as he tried to keep his composure. “Falling from the sky like that? You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry–” It was the first thing Bob was able to muster as you pulled away and reached down for your little girl. “I'm so sorry. Phoenix got us out of a pretty rough spot, she's the reason I'm still here.”

You’d never met the woman who was currently flying with the love of your life, but you had to trust her. There was no room to not to.

“Someone was enjoying her banana mush when Captain Mitchell called.” You explained as you picked up your daughter and handed her to Bob who was waisting with open arms and bright eyes. He was so relieved to be able to hold his daughter again, you could see that much as clear as day. “Isn't that right Millie, yeah–yeah, Dad really threw a spanner in the works, didn't he?”

“Hey, baby girl.” Bob mumbled into the crook of his little girl's neck as he held her close to his chest. The burn in his ribs was worth it as she used his thighs as a stable surface to tiptoe on. “Oh my goodness, I can't even begin to explain how much I love you both.”

“We love you so much.” You leaned in once again to kiss your husband's lips. “I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You don't get to scare me like this again, okay?”

Bob knew that you knew he couldn't promise you that, that was the worst part. He knew this could happen again and possibly be a worse outcome than this. But Bob also knew you needed reassurance he was here, that he was safe and that he wasn't going anywhere.

Death himself would have to drag him down to hell kicking and screaming before he ever left you.

“I'm not going anywhere baby, not now, not ever.” Bob cooed as he kissed you back, thankful he got to come home to his girls after such a life-threatening accident. The WSO knew he would have to see a shrink before getting in the cockpit again. How he was going to explain away the nightmares of leaving his wife a widow and his daughter fatherless he’d never know. “I’m here, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

“Phoenix, I don't think you're supposed to be walking?” Jake's voice echoed down the hall as you and Bob looked towards the door of his hospital room. There, in the doorway, stood Natasha Trace with wide eyes and shocked horror written all over her face. It was clear to you at that moment that Bob hadn’t told her either, Bob hadn’t told anyone about you or his daughter. You were the two closest cards he kept close to his chest.

“You have a family!?” Phoenix asked almost as if the answer was unclear. “Bob, you have a family and didn't tell me? Didn't tell any of us?” There was a rhyme to Bob's reasoning as to why he kept the two of you a secret. Bob just wanted something all for himself. He liked to keep his work life and private life as separate as possible. The Navy could be all-consuming on its best days, coming home to you and knowing not a single person could interrupt or stop by was simply the best version of heaven neither Bob could ever think of.

He just wanted his family all to himself, something the Navy couldn't control, couldn't touch, couldn't taint.

“Nix, this is my wife, Y/n, and my daughter Millicent.” Bob introduced the pair of you softly. “My best girls. “My whole world is in these two.”

You sent the clearly distressed aviator a simple smile and a soft wave as you stood from your husband’s beside. You understood this was a lot for her to take in. The idea that her WSo had more to lose than she ever thought.

“I'm still getting over the fact you have a daughter.” Jake interrupted from behind Phoenix as you walked closer to where she stood to take her in a warm embrace.

“Jealousy is a disease, Seresin, I can tell you exactly how I made my daughter too if you want?” Bob held his daughter in hips lap as she babbled to herself as he helped her stand on her feet. She wasn’t walking yet, not even close. But she loved to stand.

“My husband tells me you’re the reason he's still alive.” You spoke to Natasha like she deserved to be told this accident wasn't her fault. It could have happened to anyone. It shouldn't have happened to your husband and his front seater, but that was the luck of the draw–and you were blatantly aware it could have been much, much worse.

“So, thank you for making sure he gets to come home another night.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Tags

bob floyd robert bob floyd x reader top gun imagine bob floyd fanfiction bob floyd imagine bob floyd fluff top gun bob

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starfulhabitz

1 week ago

I can't have what I want (but neither can you) | Bob Reynolds

Bob Reynolds x F!Reader

Summary: You don't know how to explain the feeling when you see Bob and Yelena together. You don't understand it, and you don't like it. You think maybe you're not a people person, maybe you're better off being on your own. You take matters to solve this problem your own way, but everyone doesn't agree with your logic.

Stand-alone. One-shot.

"'Cause I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten, it's crazy I can't have what I want, but neither can you"

Warnings: 18+MINORS DNI. Minor spoilers for Thunderbolts! Smut (my first time writing smut deserves a warning itself tbh)

Not proof read/edited. Maybe later. Idk. I hate editing.

a/n: I am so obsessed with this man...I just couldn't not write a fic. He has been rotting my brain since I saw Thunderbolts and I don't see my obsession ending soon lmao....also my first time fully writing smut. I tried.

ao3 | masterlist

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The sound of laughter echoes around the living space as both you and Bob are scrolling through the endless selection of movies, making fun of each-others movie preferences. The light from the city is reflecting through the window glass, it’s a beautiful night and the two of you wanted to spend it indoors while everyone else in the Tower tended to their own business.

It’s one of those rare quiet and peaceful nights at the Towel. You decided why not take advantage of it, hauling Bob out of his room and inviting him to a movie night (a movie night that doesn’t involve unnecessary commentary or spoilers).

“We’ve gone through an entire collection of romcom’s…do you not watch anything else?” Bob teasess as he nudges your shoulder, a small grin spreading across his face. You roll your eyes, tossing the remote to his lap.

“Okay, drama queen. You pick.”

Bob chuckles, causing his knee to press lightly against yours. He’s warm – you notice with every light tough to the shoulder, whenever your bodies lightly brush against eachothers, he’s always warm. Being close to him is no different from wrapping your body with a freshly dried blanket. Months since the New York incident, your downtime has been spent with Bob. You found comfort in him, his quiet smile and haunted eyes enticing you. He was both gentle and strong, it was impressive. Bob was the only person who made this new life you’ve all been pushed into feel like a home.

After what seemed like endless scrolling, Bob lands on Warm Bodies. “Zombie movie. I think this one’s a winner.”

“God help us,” you groan. “This is still romance.”

“Sure, but it’s with zombies.”

You hum in response, sinking your body further into the large couch and glance back at him. You offer him a shrug – accepting the film of the evening.

The sound of the movie beginning echoes through the surround sound, and it’s all you're able to hear as the two of you focus on the screen in front of you. That is until the moment was interrupted by the elevator door’s ding.

Heavy footsteps make their way towards the couch, not shying away from being the only loud thing in the room besides the TV. You turn your head as they approach, it’s Yelena.

“Movie night?” she asks, a grin spread across her cheek. She’s in a grey sweatshirt, her blond hair is pulled back by a headband.

You turn your head back, nodding in response.

“Nice,” she makes her way to the other side of Bob, dropping her body next to his. “What are we watching?”

“Something with zombies, y/n says they fall in love.” he replies, turning to her with a wide smile – his soft eyes gazing over at her, his half-laugh expression you try to believe is just for you.

It’s uneasy, the feeling at the bottom of your stomach. It’s doing more flips than you do during a mission, your arms crossing quicker than you realize how you’re reacting. It’s completely illogical, there’s no reason for you to feel this bothered.

But you watch them, you see the way she nudges his arm, how he doesn’t pull back. With you, Bob seems almost hyper-aware of his proximity to you, but with Yelena, it’s almost as if physical boundaries don't exist. He is completely comfortable with her. You begin to watch him watching her, how his eyes follow her subtle movements, how captivated he stares at her as she laughs – confident and magnetic. Why did he never look at you like that? The thought sneaks its way to your head, you can feel your heart rate slowly begin to increase. Something is pulling tight in your chest.

You don’t understand it, but you sure as hell don’t like it.

“I’m actually kind of tired,” you say quickly, standing up before you are able to finish your sentence.

Bob diverts his attention towards you, “Already?”

You lower your head, nodding sheepishly. The walk to the elevator feels as if it’s a few miles away as opposed to a few feet, each step feeling as if you’re walking in slow motion.

Behind you, you hear bodies shifting.

“You sure?” Bob mildly shouts, his voice dripping in confusion.

When you finally make it inside the elevator, you pretend not to hear him. The sound of your finger pressing the button rapidly becomes the loudest noise – the desperation to be anywhere but the common room being obvious. When the door finally closes, it’s quiet but your thoughts seem to be so loud. There’s a mix of emotions and ideas going through your head, but you're unsure how to make sense of any of it.

As you push open your bedroom door – it feels heavier than usual. The shallow light of your lamp shining too bright, and your bed looking like the ultimate safe space.

You’re not used to this feeling – it’s beyond foreign and it startles you. Not even the most dangerous mission can make your stomach churn the way it does when you see Bob watching Yelena. It’s been like this for weeks at this point, your breath becomes shallow when they share an inside joke together. Your heart races more than you’re used to when you see Yelena place her hand on his shoulders. There's a nauseating feeling that takes over when every moment with them, you feel like a third wheel to their friendship. They share a specific bond, and a friendship like there’s can’t be replicated. They’ve been through too much, know each other too well.

It’s way more intimate than any kind of friendship you and Bob have.

But you’ve known this. This isn’t new. Their friendship wasn’t some kind of secret, it’s been this way since you joined the New Avengers and it’s been this way since before you were recruited in.

But recently, you haven’t been fine. You try to convince yourself that you’ve been sick, but the feeling of unease only happens when you’re around them.

You just don’t know why.

You're settled in bed, it’s dark, and you want to be asleep. You’d do anything to be asleep. The weight of the blanket over you should be comforting, but it just makes you feel too aware. It’s fabric grazing over your skin, the rustle of the sheets whenever you shift in place. While your room is dark, the light from under the door can’t seem to escape your focus. The realization that the movie night you planned is now happening without you.

You try telling yourself that this is ridiculous. Why did you leave? Exactly what was the problem? Bob and Yelena are close friends, but they’re also your friends. They’re your team and co-workers, you all live under the same roof now – so why was your brain doing this to you?

A soft tap on your door pauses your thoughts, your name being softly said against the other side.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, for a few seconds, you actually forget to breathe.

It’s Bob.

He stops tapping your door before he says, “Can I come in?”

You don’t respond, keeping your body still. You hope the lack of any sound, any proof that you’re awake would cause him to walk away. To leave you and your thoughts alone.

“I’m coming in.”

You make a small noise as you hear the door slowly creak open, quickly pulling the cover over your head. Your body is still as you hear footsteps slowly approach you.

For a moment, you think of getting up. Explaining yourself and wanting to offer an apology, ending the movie night before it even really started. But you lay there, still and motionless, pretending to be asleep.

It feels like there’s someone hovering over you, you hear the sound of shifting on the ground. You imagine Bob standing over you, fidgeting as he contemplates whether to wake you or let you rest. Luckily for you, he takes a step back, you hear his footsteps slowly begin to sound further away before he lightly shuts the door.

A loud gast escapes you, from the breath you forgot you were holding. You kick your sheets off you, releasing the sticky hold it had on you due to your sweat.

You’re unsure what you got yourself into, or how you got there in the first place. You just want things to be as they were, you want to feel normal again.

You have got to do something about this.

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You don’t mean to avoid him – that wasn’t the plan.

At least not at first.

You just needed some space, some perspective, some time to breathe and allow yourself to be level headed.

It was just easier to be all of those things without Bob. And without thinking about how he looks at Yelena, and without wondering if he’s ever looked at you that way (and to you, that’s wishful thinking). But, who cares. They’re friends. You’re friends. You’re all friends, there’s nothing wrong with that.

And yet, the ache lingers. The feeling you got before sneaks its way into your body whenever you share your space with them.

It was subtle at first – you skipping out on team meals. You’re not in the common room often anymore, you prefer to spend your evening locked up in your room or training by yourself in the training room.

And it’s peaceful.

There’s no aching feeling in your chest, there’s no butterflies flying freeling in your stomach, there’s no feeling of uncertainty or disappointment. You tell yourself, maybe you’re off being alone. Perhaps, you’re not someone who functions well in teams, you’re probably just naturally a lone wolf.

And no one questions it, you hardley figure anyone even notices the fact that you’ve lightly pulled away.

Well, at least most of them.

You can’t help but see the quiet looks Bob sneaks at you during meetings. You try to ignore the way his smile lighty drops when you answer him too quickly, or when you look too eager to leave. He stopped trying to sit next to you or stopping by your room when he’s bored.

It hurt more than you thought it would.

While you realize that this was the plan, this was your intention, you wanted space and you got it. But it still hurts.

These days, the only thing that helps is being in your room or the Tower’s gym.

You decide today is one of those days. The world outside was too loud, just like in your head. You needed something to focus on, something to ground your body and allow your mind to be still.

The Tower gym offered it all – empty, nothing louder than the echo of a weight dropping to the ground. It was the kind of noise you needed, it was the release your body was begging for. This was the place where you could move your way through the internal noise. You could sweat it out. Punch those intense feelings away.

The current victim of your frustration was the punching bag, each strike against it vibrates up your arms like lightning. You finally felt like yourself again, the feral rhythm of your fists, the feeling of your strength, how accurate all your hits were. It reminded you of how accurate and sure of yourself you always used to be.

You feel your sweat drip down your chest. Your hoodie was tied around your waist, your sports bra sticking onto you like a second layer of skin. It was incredible – you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to think.

You didn’t want to think of how you managed to fumble your forming friendships. Or about how even being forced into a team, you manage to isolate yourself from everyone. Not about how Bob looked at Yelena like she hung the stars herself. Not about how easy it is for him to welcome her into his embrace, or how unguarded he is around her. You didn’t want to think about how your chest had pulled so tightly at the sight, you felt like you could barely breathe.

“Woah,” a voice called out from the entrance of the gym, loud and sharp enough to separate you from your focus. “I never want to be on your bad side.”

You pause mid-swing, averting your gaze to the doorway. You find John Walker leaning against the frame, sleeves pushed up and his arms crossed. He lets out a light whistle, a half smirk spread across his face.

You wipe off your forehead with the back of your wrist, becoming too aware of your apperance.

“If you annoy me enough, you might become the new bag.” You say, and gratifyingly, Walker lets out a rare laugh.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks while stepping inside.

You reply with a shrug, turning back towards the mats. “It’s a free gym.”

He drops his bag and follows you, silently joining your workout.

In no time, it led to the two of you on the sparring floor, bodies intertwined and slamming into each other. The first few minutes of the spar was silent, just heavy breathing and grunting surrounding the two of you. It was the kind of silence neither of you mind.

“Who pissed you off?” and then, Walker spoke.

You don’t reply, trying to force yourself out of his hold.

“C’mon, y/n.” he hisses, nudging your knee with his, holding onto you. “Your going at it like this is personal.”

Twisting your body, you manage to escape his hold. You stumble in front of him, landing on your knees. You shoot him a glare, “This is how you make friends?”

He flashes you a toothy grin, “I mean, it’s working. Isn’t it?”

You roll your eyes, but a chuckle manages to escape your lips. Walker offers you his hand, helping you up from the ground.

You stretch your body for a second, rolling your shoulders before responding back to him. “Let’s spar. Talking optional.”

Walker takes a step back, raising his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering. “Optional? That’s a shame. You have such a nice voice.”

You scoff at his antics as you stepp into stance. He follows suit, preparing for the first most. You begin to stab at him once, then twice, and he braces it well. His arms are strong and hands steady, not holding back. It wasn’t long before you started picking up the pace, the sound of shuffling feet and strikes drowned out any of the previous spiraling thoughts you had.

Walker ducks one of your strikes and smirkes as you lightly stumble. “You sure you not training for a match with anyone specifically?”

“If you keep talking, I might be.”

His laugh is loud and smile is wide, “Feisty. I like it.”

You can’t help form a grin across your face, and before you know it, you let out a full body laugh. Breathless. Genuine.

You dodge another playful jab and attempt to shove Walker backward. He managed to catch your wrist mid-shove, and twisted it softly. It messes with your momentum, causing you to stumble into his chest, letting out a quiet yelp. His hand settles at your waist, pulling your bodies closer together.

“Woah,” he teased. “If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask.”

“I’ll make sure to lead.” you winked at him, pushing him back playfully.

“So you’re one of those.”

The two of you laughed, and for a moment, it was nice. This was the first time in weeks you weren’t spending your free time alone. It was simple. Flirty. Harmless.

It was fun.

Until the door opened.

The sight makes your stomach drop for reasons unknown to you.

It was Bob.

He stood at the doorway, his broad shoulder tense, arms to his sides and fingers lightly fidgeting against one another. Even under the low gym light, he was golden.

He stood there silently, not saying a word. His eyes were too busy locked on the scene in front of him.

Your body is pressed against Walkers, his hand still hovering near your hip. Your cheeks are flushed, your in your sports bra, your smiling like before and laughing like Walker was God's gift to Earth.

Bob’s face was unreadable. He was too still, too quiet.

“Hey,” you managed to choke out, still a little out of breath. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Bob didn’t look at you, his eyes still laying on Walker's hand on your body. “Didn’t realize I was interupting.”

Walker shifts, hands still on you. He doesn’t notice your body tensing up or your breath becoming staggered. “We’re just messing around. You want in?”

Bob’s eyes flicked to you, and for a second, you think you see his brown eyes quickly shift to gold. You can’t put into words the emotion going on behind his eyes, but it isn’t just irritation.

“No,” Bob says flatly. “I’m good.”

With that, he turns his body and walks out.

“Uh…” Walker finally releases you, helping you find your balance as your bodies seperate from each other. “Did I miss something?”

You shook your head slowly, trying to prevent your body from freezing or your mind becoming a frenzy. The gym that was once your safe space is now added to one of the places you are going to have to avoid. There’s a weight in your chest that is settling like concrete the longer you stand there.

“I’m gonna shower.” You say softly before leaving to your last sanctuary: your room.

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The halls of the Tower always manage to feel too long when you don’t want to be found.

You try to take the short way to your room, quickly leaving the bathroom as soon as you finish your post-workout shower. You try to ignore the uncomfortable dampness of your hair, or the chill spreading through your body under your over-sized nightwear. The only thing you want more than anything is to be alone in your room. You want to shake off the unnerving weight pressing down on your ribs. You feel guilty without having a reason to be. You feel like you did something wrong. You tell yourself that you might just be flustered, Bob just happened to catch you off-guard in a compromising position. It could have been anyone, and you’d probably feel the same way. It didn’t mean anything.

But then you remember his eyes. How he looked at you (even though he was trying not to). He didn’t just look irritated or disappointed. But something else.

You managed to finally turn to the last corner – but then you were stopped short.

He was there, leaning against the wall outside of your room. Your sanctuary. The place that was supposed to be safe.

His arms are crossed, head down like he’d been waiting on your arrival for some time. His hair caught the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting warm shadows across his cheekbones. You can see his chest rise and fall at a steady pace, like he’s focusing on it. He looks so calm on the outside, but you knew him too well.

His jaw was tight. His posture was tense. If you didn’t look close enough, you’d miss the slight frown forming from the corner of his lips.

“Bob..”

He looked up slowly at the sound of your voice.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, but not soft as it was once before. It wasn’t gentle or warm. It was just quiet.

You shift awkwardly, looking down at the droplets falling to the ground from the ends of your hair. You’re determined to look anywhere but at him. “Did you need something?”

“I think we need to talk.”

You sigh, slowly nodding your head. You slowly go past him, still not looking up. You unlock the door, stepping inside as Bob follows behind you, then closes the door behind him.

The lamp was the only light on in your roon, an amber gold hue shining a dim light around the two of you. You stand near the bed, holding your damp towels awkwardly. Bob stayed close to the door, like he didn’t have permission to come closer.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, the two of you sneaking glances at each other, waiting for the other to speak first.

Then, Bob lets out a deep exhale. “Are you mad at me?”

The question hurt. Hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“No..why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, his voice slowly growing sharper in frustration. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No I haven’t –”

“Yes, you have,” he interrupts. “You ditched me on movie night, which was your idea. You stopped hanging out in the lounge. You sprint out of a room when I walk in. And then today…” his voice trails off, his jaw twitching before he begins to speak again. “Today I saw you. I saw you all over Walker.”

You swallowed, the feeling of guilt crawling over your body again. “We were just training.”

Bob nodded slowly, finally looking you in the eyes as if he was looking for answers. “Right. Just training.”

“Bob…”

“I’m not mad,” he said between breaths, trying to calm himself. His voice is quiet again. “I just..I don’t understand what I did. If I even did anything. Did I bother you or something?”

Your throat tightens. Your fingers fidget against the towel in your hands, finding comfort in squeezing something. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?” His voice cracks with something raw, something new. “Was I around you too much? Talk to you too often? Did I..make you uncomfortable? Whatever I did…I…I think you need to tell me.”

“You didn’t,” You said quickly, trying to ease his mind. You toss the towels in a bean bag not too far from you. You slowly begin to take a step forward. “Bob, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you pulling away from me?”

Your mouth opens lightly, but nothing comes out. How can you explain a feeling you don’t understand? How could you explain what you’re going through without shattering the friendship you’ve built? How can you tell him I hate seeing you smile at her like that without sounding crazy?

While being so deep in thought, you don’t notice how Bob was currently looking at you. Really looking. Like he was searching for answers from your face.

Your silence and worrisome look on your face broke something in him. It’s as if he was finally able to connect the dots that have been in front of him all along.

“You’re…jealous?” He asks, both you and himself. “That’s what this is?”

You flinch – the word you’ve been avoiding like the plague finally making it to the surface. “I’m not–”

“You are,” he takes a step forward. “You’re jealous of…Yelena?”

Your heart pounds against your rib cage, your ears become hot and you feel your body tense. This isn’t what you wanted, this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have.

“Why?” He asked. “Why does it bother you?”

You shake your head. You don’t want to say anything, but it spills out against your will. “Because – because I see how you look at her. How you smile at her. How comfortable you are with her. And I know you care about her. And I know I shouldn’t care, it’s stupid and petty, but I do care. I hate that I care because it really doesn’t make sense and –”

Your voice broke, eyes widening as you just realized what you’ve said. You press your hands to your face, hoping to disappear. This was all too overwhelming, the adrenaline rushing too fast to know what to do with it.

“I didn’t..I dont want to feel this way,” you whisper through your fingers.

Bob was quiet for a second. A part of you hopes he’s so repulsed, so turned off that he just walks away and avoids you the same way you’ve been avoiding him.

“What way?” He asks softly.

You dropped your hands, heart in your throat. Your voice is working before your brain is, your thoughts and feelings finally being exposed to both you and Bob.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You said it, quickly and softly. They were barely there, if Bob wasn’t listening carefully, it could’ve been missed. But as quiet as you were, it rang like thunder against the windowstill.

You see Bob staring at you, stunned and speechless.

You begin to rush to fill the silence, coming to terms with what you just confessed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. I thought it would just go away. I wanted it to go away, or at least for it to stop hurting. But then today, I saw you and you saw me, and God – I'm just so sorry. I dont want to ruin anything –”

“Stop,” he said quietly.

You froze, afraid and relieved. It was finally out there. You finally admit to yourself what you’ve been going through, and now he knows too. But you were afraid that you would lose him, and that him not knowing would have been better.

Bob takes two steps forward, slowly as if he is waiting for you to tell him to stop. He cups your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. His eyes were shining, warmed and in awe at the sight of you flushed in front of him.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He says.

Then he kissed you.

It was slow, as if he’s been waiting to do this forever. Like he’s savoring this moment, wanting to remember how your mouth felt against his.

You melt into him, hands clutching the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer.

Your lips part with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” He whispers against you. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

You let out a shaky left, still gripping to his shirt. Slight tears cling to your lashes. “We’re both idiots.”

“Maybe,” he whispered while pecking your forehead. “But we’re idiots together.”

You kiss him again – this time deeper, more certain, more hungry. His arms wrap around you fully, pulling your body close to his. This time he was less hesitant, less shy.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he gently backs you towards your bed. There is no rush in the way he touches you, only devotion. It’s as if he was memorizing every breath, every sound coming out of your mouth, every shiver.

The back of your knee hit the mattress, and he pauses. Slowly parting his lips from yours.

“You okay?” He murmured against your lips.

You nodded, breathless. “More than okay.”

He gives you his soft smile that beams across his face, it makes your chest ache. Oh, how’ve you missed him.

His hands are careful as they slide under your shirt, fingers brushing up your sides, tracing your skin with feather-light touches. Goosebumps bloom across his skin, finally being able to feel you. He slowly peeled the shirt over your head, slow and unrushed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re perfect.” he said, his voice low and awed.

You begin to tug at his shirt in response, “So are you.”

He chuckled at your playfulness, letting you pull his shirt off.

You take a quick look at him, the way his hidden muscles flex at every movement, the definition across his chest. You can't help but have your hand trace along his chest, adoring evey inch of him.

You look up to see him looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world he could see.

You slowly lean back on the bed and he follows, settling over you gently. He braces himself on his forearms as he kisses you – slower, lazier, like he never wanted to let the moment end.

Your legs tangle beneath him, his hands trace lines down your arms and outside of your thigh. You let out a soft gasp as his lips travel to the edge of your jaw, then the side of your throat, and the line of your collarbone.

“Tell me when to stop..” he whispers between kisses.

“I won’t” you whisper. “I want this..I want you.”

His breath hitches at your response, his grip around you tightening. His hand trails down your body, before finding your most sensitive area. At first contact, your hips shift lightly, causing Bob to press down slightly firmer. He circles you – slow and soft, the pleasure causing your head to tip back. Bob begins to place kisses ontop of your exposed throat, wet and firm, like he was trying to leave a mark – like he wants to prove to everyone that you belong to him.

His circles catch up to your moans. Every gasp and whisper results in him pressing harder, circling faster.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers into your ear. “You sound so perfect.” Your back arches at his soft praises, there’s a heat building up between your legs. He has you wrecked and he hasn’t even entered you yet, you’re a whimpering mess who is struggling to ask for more.

Bob places a kiss back to your mouth, it’s sloppy and desperate. He’s moaning into you, your reaction to his touch is making him insane. It’s not enough – he wants you a wreck, he wants you to beg and plead, he wants you to want him the same way he’s been wanting you.

His fingers dip lower, and he feels you. Soaked, warm, you're throbbing at his touch. It takes everything in him to not choke at the sensation, he focuses on your whimpering to keep him at ease. You arch deep into his fingers, thrusting into him for friction.

“Oh my g-god…” you manage to breathe out. Bob hisses as your nails dig into his back, his fingers following the rhythm of your hips. Your moans slowly begin to get louder, your pace on his fingers increasing.

“You can cum for me,” Bob whispers into your ear, as if he’s giving you permission to release.

And you do, whimpering his name, your hips dropping to the mattress. He is still slowly pumping in and out of you, still pleasuring you as you come down from your high.

You let out a disappointed sigh when his fingers leave you, but you’re quickly surprised when you see him put his fingers in his mouth – tasting you. He moans as he savours the taste of you, of what he’s done to you.

He lowers his head, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close, slowly separating your thighs, thrusting up against him. You feel him, he’s hard and his tip is brushing up against you.

“I want you…” you whisper against him.

“God…you drive me crazy.” he whimpers out.

After trailing soft kisses around you, he slowly begins to ease into you. The world around you shrunk – the only thing existing is breath, skin, and heat.

It started off slow and tender, his movements careful as if this could end any moment. He begins to murmur your name like a prayer, rocking into you with patient rhythem. He was paying attention to every reaction you had, making sure to keep note of everything he did that felt good to you.

“I’ve got you” he whispers into you, your moaning against him as his hands grip at your hips, pushing himself deeper inside you. He groans as he feels you gripping him, your slick causing the sound of your skins slapping to echo around the room.

“You feel so good around me…you feel so good,” his cheeks are flushed. His thrusts begin to stutter, no longer feeling controlled like before. Bob is allowing himself to lose himself into you, gripping you harder and kisses sloppier. “I’m – oh, I-’m –”

You kiss his jaw, rocking your hips in return. The feeling of your clit rubbing against him and his fullness thrusting overwhelming you, causing your second orgasm to approach.

“Me too…keep going…gonna cum for you,” you manage out, before you whine out multiple “fuck’s” as you cum around him. Feeling you finish while he was inside you was all it took for Bob to cum with a broken gasp, releasing all of him inside of you. He continues to pump into you slowly after you both cum, kissing you through the shuddering aftershocks.

He gets off of you, plopping himself besides you. You curl into his arms, your bodies warm and hearts full. He presses a kiss at the top of your forehead, caressing your shoulder with the hand that's to your side.

“I never want you to ignore me like that again, I won’t let you.” He confesses.

You hold onto him tighter, apologetically. “I won’t. I promise.”

And for the first time, the ache in your chest was gone. The endless months of doubts and feelings of uncertainty no longer existed.

The only thing left was Bob, and finally feeling like you belong.

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bob reynolds bob reynolds x reader

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