hi im quinn! in school right now, so i might not be super active. was first active around 2020 in the criminal minds fandom. exploring new things now! thanks for supporting me and my work!
working on a new bradley piece this week! just got settled in my internship and finished up some grad school applications! hoping to have this piece out in a week! thank you for your support and patience with my schedule! ❤️
summary: adopting a retired police dog from the local station seemed like a good idea. late night cuddles on the couch, early morning barks to start the day, and long runs in the park are now a normal part of bradley's routine. but what happens when his furry friend takes off one morning, leash slipping through his hand, and instead barreling towards someone new?
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (not really but kinda), dry humping (i'm a freak), hand job, fingering, reader is shorter/smaller than bradley (he looks down at reader and picks reader up), strangers to lovers (guys don't fall for the cute guy with a dog ruse unless it's bradley), no use of y/n
word count: 11.1k
a/n: been a fiend for bradley ever since watching topgun again in theaters. that mustache does things to me... also this a very bradley centered fic! loved exploring him as a character in this! enjoy! :)
masterlist
Bradley doesn't know what stopped him on his way off base. Usually, he's barreling towards the exit, can't wait to get home and start his weekend, even if that means reruns of old sitcoms and quiet nights on his back patio alone. Maybe it was the bright pink of the poster, contrasting against the dark navy blue, kaki tan, and army green of the base. Or maybe it was the fact that the piece of paper was dead center on the communal bulletin board. But, ultimately, Bradley's pace slows as he gets closer to the board and catches sight of a picture of a group of German shepherds, all lined up in perfect order, but still somehow looking so happy.
Adopt me! Come by the Coronado Police Station this weekend to meet your new best friend!
Bradley pauses as he reads over the text, taking in the place, date, and time. Tomorrow morning, a fifteen-minute drive from his small two-bedroom house. He doesn't know why, but he reaches into his back pocket to take out his phone, snapping a quick picture. Bradley looks over his shoulder, seeing if anyone has caught him in the act. And just as quickly as he had stopped, he was off again.
The drive home should feel like any other; wind in his hair, aviators over his eyes blocking the rays of the setting sun, and soft classic rock from the radio. But Bradley couldn't help but feel like something was missing.
Phoenix went on and on today about how her family is visiting her for the weekend, saying how excited she is to see her parents again. Bradley smiled at her, genuinely happy at the news.
Bob had talked about staying in with his girlfriend this weekend, saying they were going to try out a new recipe of banana bread they saw on the Food Network earlier this week. Bradley had hummed, telling Bob to save him a slice and to bring it in on Monday.
Jake had even told Bradley about the long run he was going on with a few of the newest TOPGUN class recruits, saying he was going to put them through hell this weekend. Bradley just laughed and grimaced at this, thankful his time in the program hadn't been led by someone as ruthless as one of his best friends.
But as the keys hit the small dish on his counter, Bradley couldn't help but tune into the creaks and groans of his house. Nothing else, just the small and quiet sounds. Even as he cooked dinner that night, the boiling of the pasta seemed drowned out by the stillness of the kitchen, of everything that surrounded Bradley. The episode he had seen at least three times now seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Bradley only heard his breathing and the occasional dripping of the faucet.
The hot summer nights were grueling. Not only due to the heat of his sticky skin against the now warm sheet, but also because Bradley could hear every little bug from the window above his bed. Cicadas seemed to chirp, grasshoppers seemed to sing, and if he listened closely, he could even sometimes hear the buzzing of the fireflies. Too quiet, but so loud. Loudness from the wrong sounds, the ones nobody noticed. Loudness from the beating of his heart from underneath his skin. Loudness of the crinkling sheets beneath his grasp. Loudness from the unsteady breath that escaped his lips.
Reaching for his phone, Bradley looked at the most recent picture in his camera roll. Swiping out and clicking the clock icon, he set an alarm for 8 AM sharp.
જ⁀➴
Bradley pulls into the parking lot and takes in the sight around him. Cars are already packed in the lot, despite it only being 5 minutes since the adoption event started. Minivans and SUVs are taking up most of the spots; his Bronco seems out of place among the other cars. The California sun is barely starting to warm up the air, but Bradley knows in an hour he'll be thankful for the loose Hawaiian shirt he wears.
Off to the right side of the building, he can hear children laughing and dogs barking. Tucking his keys in his back pocket, he makes his way towards the noise.
Like he suspected, families are standing around chatting with volunteers in bright pink shirts, the same pink on the poster from the base. Kids are wide-eyed and fascinated with all of the dogs they see. It's not just German shepherds, but smaller dogs too, and all types of breeds. He wonders why his poster only had the proud-looking line-up when there were so many other options.
But like a man on a mission, Bradley peers over the crowd of people and spots K-9 in big black letters near the middle of the scene. Sending small smiles and tapping his left hand anxiously on the side of his thigh, Bradley weaves through the crowd. Taking in the well-behaved group of dogs before him, he settles down a bit. There's only one volunteer over in this area, a woman with her back turned away from him. It only settles him more, giving him the space to really look over the animals. Some of the dogs are panting, as if being out on the grass has somehow exhausted them. Others are playing with each other, rolling around, and showing their bellies. But one dog sits near the woman, curled in on itself, head tucked into her side.
Without meaning to, Bradley watches this dog, missing the way the woman looks at him fondly.
"He's just a little shy, but I promise he's a good boy," your voice snaps him out of his trance.
Bradley doesn't think he's ever thought so hard about what to say next. You have a soft look on your face, eyes darting back and forth between him and the dog that sits so close to you. The morning light is peeking out from beneath the tree branches, golden rays dancing across your skin. Bradley is glad he doesn't have his sunglasses on right now.
"What's his name?" Bradley walks closer to you, and you turn your body towards him. The dog next to you perks up a bit at the movement.
You smile a little before saying it, "Ducky." Seeing the way his brows raise, you laugh a bit. "He's just a bit of an odd pup out, thought the name suited him."
Bradley couldn't help but feel like it was fate. Ducky and Rooster. It was almost laughable.
"You said he's shy," Bradley led on, looking up to you as he sat on his haunches next to the dog.
"Yeah," you hummed. "Definitely my sensitive boy out of the group. These guys are retiring K-9, but Ducky has a bit of a soft side, wasn't trained properly as a puppy." Your voice seemed to waver a bit at the end of your sentence.
Bradley watched as your throat bobbed before you spoke again. He could tell where this conversation was going, but didn't want to interrupt. The look in your eyes was fiercely protective.
"He was abused by his first owner. So he has some PTSD tendencies. Hyper vigilant, can get really avoidant and shy, whines a lot when he's feeling anxious," you tell Bradley, petting the dog softly.
But nothing in your expression tells him that you don't care for this dog, that you think he's broken because of all of these things. It makes his heart beat a little quicker.
"But Ducky's a good boy. You just have to put some work in to see that." As you say his name again, Ducky peeks out from where he's hiding in your side. You smile a bit at this, ruffling his ears. "You wanna say hi to the sweet man?" you ask in a soft voice, like you're talking just to the dog, like Bradley's not right next to you, hearing every word.
He holds his hand out slowly, knowing not to move too fast. "Hey, Ducky. I'm Bradley." As soon as he says it, he feels a bit silly. But the way your smile deepens makes him continue. "Looking for a home, buddy? I got a nice backyard."
"Oh, he'll love that. Runs around like a bunny when he's all riled up," you told him with a smile on your face, now looking only at Bradley.
Bradley smiles at that, only imagining the life this dog could bring to his quiet house.
Finally, Ducky nudges his outstretched hand, sniffing it first, then licking it softly. He hears you gasp lightly at the action, nothing big though, trying not to disrupt the moment.
"He never does that," you offer. Bradley can see your head shaking slowly as Ducky continues to push into the man in front of you.
Bradley feels his heartbeat steady. It's quiet around him. Even with the squealings of the children around him and the barking of the other dogs, Bradley only hears the little laps of Ducky's tongue against the skin on his hand. But this quiet is something he can get used to, something that grounds him.
"It's a 150 dollar adoption fee, right?" Bradley asks, not tearing his eyes away from the dog in front of him. Ducky's big brown eyes seem to bore into his soul, making him ask the question before even thinking about what he's saying.
You bite your lip before speaking, trying to hide the big grin on your face, even though you know Bradley can't see it. "Um, no fee for him. I already took care of it."
Your words confuse Bradley. He looks over to you for an answer but sees clearly why you had paid the fee yourself.
Quickly, a hand comes up to your cheek as you wipe the stray tear away from your face. "I just didn't want anything to deter someone from taking him home." Bradley's heart clenches at this as you offer him a smile and you fan your eyes.
"Well, what do you say, Ducky? Wanna come home with me?" Bradley finds himself talking to the dog again, not feeling as silly this time around.
જ⁀➴
Bradley looks at the large, fluffy cream colored dog bed lying next to his and the brown wicker box overflowing with colorful chew toys with a small smile. Ducky had been a little hesitant to leave your side at first when he realized what was happening, but with some whispered assurance and a kiss on the tip of his wet nose from you, he jumped into Bradley's Bronco, settling in the passenger seat.
Ducky had whined when Bradley peeled out of the parking lot. The man had glanced over at Ducky as he stuck his head out of the window and looked in your direction. His eyes found your figure in the mirror, blue denim, and a sweet pink-colored top catching his eye. He saw the way you brought one hand up to your heart, and as the other wiped at your cheeks. You loved this dog, every bit of your being told him that.
Bradley couldn't help but feel bad as the dog's whines continued throughout shopping for essentials, the drive home, and the arrival at his house.
Ducky had opted to lie in Bradley's brown leather chair as soon as they got into the house, and he decided to take it as a good sign. But as the day continued, Ducky had barely left the spot, and small cries were coming every few minutes.
Opening up the sliding glass door to his backyard, Bradley called Ducky over, beckoning him to come out and play. But the swings of the bright blue and purple rope and the energetic movements from Bradley weren't doing anything to move Ducky from his spot.
Even when making dinner, Ducky had barely budged from his spot on the recliner. With the wafting scent of the food on the stovetop, Bradley was sure that Ducky would appear by his side sooner rather than later. But nothing came of it, even with the temptation of a seared ribeye with Ducky's name on it.
He had tried speaking softly like he had seen you do earlier that day, but Bradley didn't want to push the poor dog more than it seemed like he already did. Instead, he turned on the television and sat in the company of the shy dog.
It wasn't until Bradley was tucked under his sheets that he heard the faint noise of shuffling paws on his hardwood floors. Ducky sat next to the side of the bed, noticeably avoiding lying on the dog bed next to him. Bradley laughed quietly at this, furrowing his brows a bit.
He wasn't quite sure what to do, to be honest. Growing up, he never had dogs or cats or anything of that sort in the house. He figured it was hard enough being a single mother of a toddler; the added stress of an animal just wasn't feasible in his situation.
Sure, his friends growing up had dogs. He recalled throwing around a tennis ball with one of his friends and their black lab in their backyard almost every day during the summer before 7th grade. But Bradley had never lived with a dog. Never had to deal with big brown eyes looking at him as he lay underneath the sheets.
"You okay, buddy?" he asked in the otherwise quiet room.
To this, Ducky started whining.
"Oh, come on. I thought we got over that a few hours ago," Bradley groans, rolling up to sit in his bed now.
Bradley was man enough to admit it was hard to drag Ducky away from you during the adoption this morning. Ducky's whines as you gave him a few last pets and spoke gently to him, did tug on Bradley's heartstrings. Bradley was sure the dog next to him couldn't stop thinking about your kind eyes and sweet disposition; he certainly couldn't.
Bradley's hands were rougher than yours. He felt the softness as you handed the leash to him this morning. You had explained to him a routine that Ducky usually had with the unit, your hands animated as you looked between the pair in front of you with a smile. Occasionally, one would come down to rub the top of his head. Ducky was probably missing that, missing you.
On top of that, when Bradley smiled at the dog next to him, he couldn't help but think of how goofy he looked compared to you. Your smiles were gentle, drawing him and Ducky in from a few feet away. He could tell you had that kind of magnetism, that kind of energy that just took hold of people and didn't let go. Bradley struggled to think of what the dog in front of him thought as he shot him another small smile.
And Bradley couldn't let go of the way you switched from talking to him to Ducky. How you had described Bradley with a soft tone and warm look in your eyes. You didn't even know him. How did you settle on "sweet man" from what Bradley was giving you this morning? It was a little too mind-boggling to think about for too long.
Shaking away the memories of this morning, Bradley was brought back to the dog that sat at his side. With a small sigh, he pointed to the bed next to him. "That's your bed, Ducky. It's time to go to sleep."
This only got him louder whines.
Bradley sighed and shook his head. He felt clueless.
"Do you want to come up here?" he tried, patting the comforter near his feet.
Within seconds, Ducky was jumping onto the bed and taking claim to the opposite side of the bed.
"Unbelievable. I try to get you to listen all day, and this is what you respond to," Bradley laughed as he looked at Ducky with a smile, not able to get mad at the dog as he cuddled up similarly to this morning with you.
The whines had stopped now, replaced with steady breathing and a small huff. The buzzing of the bugs outside his window that seemed so loud yesterday was now quiet. Bradley was only keying in on the ups and downs of Ducky's chest, something more grounding than he realized.
"Alright, Ducky. Time for bed," Bradley spoke again to the dog, stroking the fur on his back gently. Lying his head back down on his pillow and continuing his movements, Bradley was asleep within minutes. Soft snores from both him and Ducky fill the house with a comfortable, peaceful energy.
જ⁀➴
It was a bit daunting at first. That first week with Ducky was definitely a learning curve. Trying to adjust his routine to best suit the dog's needs hadn't been quick or easy.
The first morning, Bradley woke up to licks on his face and playful growling. At first, Bradley thought Ducky wanted attention, some pets, and cuddles. But as soon as he sat up in bed, Ducky was bolting to the front door.
Sitting in front of the door with the green leash in his mouth, Ducky whined as Bradley slowly made his way down the hallway.
Still adorned in his slippers and ratty college football shorts, Bradley closed the front door and took off with Ducky as the sun rose in the distance. After a few minutes of tugging Bradley down the block, Ducky broke out into a trot, urging Bradley to keep up with him.
That's how Bradley ended up running barefoot in his neighborhood at 5 in the morning, slippers in one hand and leash in the other. He had passed Mrs. Greene, Mrs. Johnson, and Mrs. Nguyen on their morning aerobic walk with a small nod and smile. The older ladies had laughed at the scene, something Bradley couldn't help but join in on.
An hour later, they ended up back at Bradley's house. This time, Ducky barked happily as he opened the sliding glass door out to his backyard, running circles in the yard much like you had said he would. Bradley found himself watching with a disbelieving smile on his face, wishing he could somehow tell you that you were right.
A few weeks later, Bradley runs shirtless, tennis shoes on his feet now, with Ducky on an early May morning. The sun is just starting to peak out from the greenery lining the trail they take every morning. Bradley's grateful for the cool morning air as sweat wicks at his lower back and hairline. A combination of the morning dew and perspiration rolls down the muscles of Bradley's body as he jogs.
Suddenly, Ducky pauses once they reach the familiar park. Bradley looks down at his dog and then up to see what he could possibly be stopping for.
Seeing nothing but the group of older women with small hand weights and crows in the trees, Bradley bends down to Ducky's level. "What's up, buddy? What do you see?"
But as soon as Bradley settles down next to the dog, Ducky's leash is slipping through his fingers. He reaches out to grab onto anything, his dog, his collar, his leash, but ends up grasping at the air instead. Ducky is taking off in a sprint before him.
Rising to his feet and going after him. Bradley swears under his breath and calls out loudly, "Ducky!"
He finds himself weaving through the playground, wood chips kicking up in his wake. But his eyes widen as Ducky zeroes in on a group of women at the edge of the park.
He sees them all stretched down in downward dog as Ducky gets closer and closer. Again, Bradley calls out, "Ducky!"
At this, he sees a few heads turn towards the sound of his voice. But only one woman looks in the direction of the blur of fur coming straight for her. A yelp is heard as Ducky barrels into her, knocking her from her place on the mat. Gasps are heard from the surrounding women, and Bradley's chest heaves as he sprints to catch up to his dog and pull him off the stranger.
But as he gets closer, his heart calms at the sound of laughter. Ducky is lying on top of this poor woman, but at least he's not attacking or barking or anything of that sort. No, he's just licking and nuzzling into the figure on the ground.
"I am so sorry. I don't," Bradley gets out quickly, stuttering a bit as he looks around at the group with an apologetic smile. "He never runs away like that, I'm sorry. Ducky, get over here!"
But the dog stays put, and the laughter doesn't stop. But finally, Ducky is pushed up from the figure on the ground, and Bradley's heart races once more when he sees your face peeking out from behind the ball of fur.
"Oh, it's you." He doesn't know why he says it, but it comes from him like a breath of relief.
You laugh at this, not even taking in the way Bradley scolds himself at the odd behavior.
"And it's you and Ducky!" Your attention is on the dog in front of you, petting him and smiling brightly, only glancing up at Bradley once before returning to the panting dog rather than the panting man.
Bradley kneels down next to you, sweat still rolling down his skin. He doesn't catch the way your cheeks flush as you take in his build. Muscles are a mix of the perfect summer tan and red rosy dusting, no doubt from the sprint he took off on to get here. His arms strain as they go behind him, veins jumping out from his skin. From this position, his tight stomach is also on full display, ridges and divots begging for your attention.
What you don't realize is that Bradley is doing the exact same thing to you, drinking you in fully. You're in flow yoga pants, calves peeking out from the wide-legged flare of the pants. And your top half is barely hidden, only wearing a sports bra, pretty and pink like the top he had seen you in a month ago. The straps dig into your shoulders, and Bradley takes in the swell of your breasts as he follows the scoop of the top.
A bark from Ducky snaps you both back into reality. Some of the women around you laugh.
"You guys seem to be doing well," you spoke softly, voice just as sweet as Bradley remembered.
"Mm, yeah. We've got our routine now, he's been great," Bradley tells you, reaching to pet his dog.
You watch the action fondly, seeing the way Ducky leans into his touch now. The moment is sweet and completely yours, at least that's what it feels like as you and Bradley make eye contact and share small smiles. But a voice clearing is heard as you and Bradley remember where you are.
You turn to a young woman next to you, speaking quicker than Bradley has ever heard before from you. "I'm gonna go with them, I'll be back soon." She nodded at you with a gleaming look in her eye that Bradley didn't quite understand. But you turned quickly towards him, grabbing Ducky's leash and apologizing to the other women around you.
As soon as you had walked away from the group, they resumed their positions, some of them craning their necks to watch the scene a few feet away from them unfold.
"I'm so sorry about that, again," Bradley told you, grimace on his face as you handed him the leash.
But you just shook your head and smiled. "No, no. It was nice seeing you guys again. I was wondering how he was doing with you," you told him. Bradley hoped you didn't catch the way he swallowed hard at your words. Leaning down a bit, your hand came down to Ducky's face. "But you like the sweet man, huh? I knew you would."
Bradley's cheeks flush at the repetition of your description of him, yet again.
The sun paints everything a nice golden color, pinks in the sky still dancing a bit in the distance. But Bradley can't peel his eyes away from you, and it seems like you are having the same problem.
"I should probably get back." Your head is pointing in the direction of the class, now moving through another pose.
"Yes, yeah. Sorry," he doesn't know why he apologizes, but the smile on your face doesn't make him think about it for long.
"Well, bye, Ducky. And bye..." you lead off, looking for him to pick up the end of your sentence.
"Bradley," he says, hoping you say it back to him.
"Bye, Bradley," you tell him, turning away from the pair, but not before sending them one last glance over your shoulder. And Bradley doesn't realize how long he stands there and hangs onto your words, only focusing on the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. It had never sounded better, sounded sweeter from you.
Begrudgingly, he turns, ushering Ducky to follow him.
"I know, Ducky. Come on," he says, starting off in a slow jog as his dog turns back and begins to follow him. But as the day continues, Ducky's whining starts up again, and Bradley can't help but think of you.
જ⁀➴
Pool balls clack up against each other as Bradley misses yet another wide-open shot.
"Jesus, Rooster," Jake laughs loudly. "Missing your dog so much you can't even focus on one little game of pool?"
It was partly true. It was Bradley's first night out since getting Ducky; he had been opting to spend the nights and weekends at home with the dog rather than out drinking with the squad.
But before Bradley could defend himself, mouth already opening to fire back, Bob had cut in, "No, he's definitely distracted because of the girl."
Bob sipped his soda innocently as the group of pilots turned in his direction with peaked interest.
Looking at Bradley, Bob grimaced; he was always a little loose-lipped after his 3rd soda of the night. "Shoot. Sorry, Bradley."
This set off a chain of questions from the group as Bradley's head hung low, hand coming up to the back of his neck to rub harshly at the skin.
Bradley had confessed his feelings to the WSO earlier this week, not being able to get the image of you out of his brain the entire weekend after Ducky had run you down in the park. He just had to tell someone, and Bob seemed like the logical choice. Smart, level-headed, in a stable relationship. But the words from the WSO only sent him into a spiral as he had finished describing you.
"Sounds like your perfect woman."
Bob's voice seemed to be on repeat the entire week. And God, he was right. You were perfect. More importantly, Bradley felt like he was going through withdrawal. Every time he looked at Ducky, he thought of you. He reasoned that getting out of the house and spending some time with his friends would be good for him.
Evidently, his secret being outed wasn't what he had in mind for tonight.
"Idiots, shut it!" Phoenix's voice rang out above the others. The group was now silent, all looking to the woman. "What girl?" she asked hesitantly.
With a sigh, Bradley's shoulders slumped. "The woman who I got Ducky from. I ran into her again last week, doing yoga at the park on one of our morning runs. And I don't know," he says, face twisting, not even sure why he's volunteering this information to his friends. "I just... I can't stop thinking about her."
The group is silent, understanding and hearing the sincerity in Bradley's voice.
Jake lets out a whistle at this. "Let's get you another drink, lover-boy." And at this, the group seems to hum in agreement.
The blonde clamps a hand down on his shoulder, guiding him to the bar.
"And you don't have her number?" Jake asks as they weave through the crowds of people.
"No, man. I mean, I don't even know her name. The adoption paperwork happened quicker than I expected, and I was just standing there like a dumbass the second time," Bradley grumbles, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Yikes. Any chance she's gonna do yoga again this week?" Jake asked as they sat at two open seats.
"I looked, it said the yoga happens the first Saturday of every month. So, I just have to wait," Bradley explained, feeling a little embarrassed at the admission.
"A month?! Good luck, my friend. You've gone crazy after only a week," Jake laughed. Bradley rolled his eyes at this and groaned, knowing Jake's words held some truth to them.
"Hello, gentlemen. I've got a drink here for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw," Penny's voice makes Bradley's head snap up. Her hand is pointing in across the bar, and when he follows it, he can't help but swear.
"Holy shit," Bradley laughs, turning to Jake with a smile and wide eyes.
"Holy shit, that's her?" Jake asked, looking at you and your friend at the opposite side of the bar, taking in the way she poked your sides and laughed.
"That's her," he spoke breathlessly. Penny grinned at the scene unfolding in front of her.
"Go, dumbass. Go!" Jake pushed him off the barstool, both hands guiding him in your direction.
Bradley recognized the girl sitting next to you, the same one at the yoga class the other day; she was probably your best friend if he was guessing. The way you smiled at her, cheeks flushing as she spoke, and sent you a wink made Bradley giddy. She grabbed her purse and hopped off the stool, gesturing for him to come take her spot before squeezing your hand and leaving.
"Hey," he says, sitting next to you, disbelief on his features.
"Hey, you," you tease back. "Are you in the Navy?"
Bradley takes in the way your eyes narrow at him, like you're trying to put pieces together. He nods and smiles, "I am, TOPGUN graduate."
"So you saw the poster I put up? For the K-9 unit?" You were smiling brightly now, like you had guessed correctly.
"I did. The pink's what got me." Bradley's eyes met yours. This conversation seemed different than all the other you had in the past. Before, you were calm and collected, but here you were excitable and giggly.
"I totally thought you were a firefighter," you spoke honestly. "I put the K-9 posters up at the base, the fire station, and places like this," your finger wagged as you spoke, gesturing to the bar.
"Disappointed?" he asked, a teasing smile on his face.
You held your hands up in faux surrender. "No! Not at all. Impressed actually."
He grinned at this, settling into the conversation more and more. "And what do you do? Not a police officer, right?"
"No, vet actually. I just work pro bono with the police department, specifically for the K-9 unit. Those guys are hard workers, and usually get roughed up after big jobs," you told him with a small smile.
Bradley put together some pieces of his own. How you knew so much about Ducky, why you had gotten so close to him. You had probably gotten to see the pup at his lowest.
Bradley nodded, "Now I'm impressed." You smiled wider at this, laughing at his words.
For the first time since sitting with you, Bradley fully took you in. Your denim shorts that rode up just a bit and your white tank top, the V-neck framing your collarbones and chest perfectly. Your cheeks had a slight blush to them; he couldn't tell whether it was from him or from the fruity drink you seemed to be working on.
Again, you did the same thing. This time, though, Bradley was in a tight white T-shirt and jeans that seemed to strain against his thick biceps and thighs. His hair wasn't as windswept as it had been that day in the park; now it was pushed back slightly, a single curl coming down on the left side of his face.
The squad watched as the two of you talked, Jake practically skipping back to the group to tell them the good news. Every time they glanced over, you and Bradley had gotten closer and closer, fully leaning into each other.
You both sported matching smiles and flushed cheeks the entire night, despite letting both of your drinks sit and become lukewarm. The alcohol couldn't be to blame for the way you were acting.
They saw how Bradley's eyes softened as they met yours. How his shoulders relaxed after each laughing fit. How he opened himself completely in front of you.
You had talked about everything. It seemed to flow so easily out of Bradley, even the hard things. When you asked about his family, you must have noticed the way his face dropped slightly, instantly placing a supportive hand on his thigh. He had told you about his family, the squad, about Maverick. It was nice. You asked questions, not the kind that he had an automatic response for, but ones that made him think.
"Who on the squad is most like a sibling to you?"
"What dish instantly brings you back to childhood?"
And his favorite, "What's your favorite story about your dad?"
He asked you about school, and you indulged him in crazy stories from your early days in the profession. How you had worked out on a farm in Wyoming one summer and helped with the births of calves. It had been a lot more physically exhausting than you would've imagined. How you had studied in Australia for an exchange year, learning all about marine wildlife and how to care for them. The way your eyes lit up when you told him about a baby turtle hatching you had witnessed had him giddy.
You had told him about all the adventures you had gone on and all the ones you wanted to do in the future. Swimming in Baja, Mexico, with the Whale Sharks was at the top of your bucket list, and while Bradley was a bit scared of deep waters like that, he had to admit it didn't sound as scary if you were going to be by his side.
In exchange, he told you a few things about his time in the academy. The risks he had to take on missions, the close calls that happened more often than he would like. He saw the pain this job caused his mom, and he didn't want you to go into this without knowing the risks. But the way you bit your lip and told him that you thought what he was doing was so brave made his heart race and a wide grin break out on his face. You had hit his shoulder lightly at this, saying you were serious, but Bradley just smiled wider.
"Is there anything else I can grab you two tonight?" Penny asked, wiping down a glass as she looked at the pair, effectively popping their bubble.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. We stayed way too late," you spoke, digging into your wallet to pull out some bills to give the kind woman.
"Sorry, Penny," Bradley chuckled, handing her a handful of cash before you could even finish fumbling with you wallet. Your eyes met him, mouth about to open to argue, but he just offered you a hand as he hopped off the barstool.
"Goodnight, you two," she called as you both walked out with sheepish smiles.
You hadn't dropped Bradley's hand as you led him through the parking lot to your car. He relished in the warmth and softness; the feeling was vaguely familiar as he recalled the earlier touches from when you had first met.
"This is me," you told him, as moonlight danced across your features. Bradley couldn't help but run his eyes over your face, thinking to himself how beautiful you looked.
"Can I get your number?" he asked brazenly, a tad louder than he needed to. You giggled at this but nodded regardless, hands reaching for his phone as he stared at you.
Despite the cold breeze that came from the ocean just a few meters away from you both, Bradley felt a deep warmth spread in his chest. He opened your car door, closing it softly as you waved through the window. And once you backed out of your spot, Bradley found himself smiling all over again at the paw print stickers on your back window.
જ⁀➴
3 months later...
You and Bradley sprawled out on his couch as the movie finished up in front of you, Ducky sitting by your feet. Lying on Bradley's chest, you couldn't help but listen to his heartbeat beneath you.
These past few months with Bradley had been nothing short of perfect. He had texted you the morning after you had sat at the Hard Deck for hours, asking if you were free for dinner that same night. You remember laughing at his eagerness to yourself, but agreeing nonetheless.
He appeared at your door at 6:30 PM sharp, taking you out to a nice dinner on a beach patio. You teased him about not bringing Ducky, saying you thought they were a package deal, but you quickly paused the teasing after seeing how nervous he was by the way his cheeks flushed brightly.
He asked you about your career out here, only really talking about school last night with you. He said he wanted to learn more about you now. It was more thoughtful than you had expected.
Halfway through the dinner, you moved your chair over to Bradley's side of the table, something that caught a glare from the hostess. But you had to, as you scrolled through pictures and pictures of animals on your phone. You told him each of their names and all the little quirks they had, told him about the family you had worked with, and how much each of these animals meant to people. You hadn't noticed, but he smiled the entire time, not really looking at your phone but instead at the way you lit up when you spoke about the animal you've worked with.
When the date wrapped up, you told him that you'll just have to see his dog another time, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before you closed the door to your apartment. He hadn't seen you peek through the curtains, but you saw the way he pumped his fists like a dork while walking to his car. You couldn't help but fall even harder for the man.
Two days after your first date, Bradley had asked you to meet him in a little coffee shop near your apartment. He had apologized countlessly for the timing, seeing as he had requested 6 AM as the time, saying it was okay if you wanted to wait for the weekend, but his training schedule was just a little hectic at the moment. But you insisted it was okay, saying you had your own share of early mornings too and that you wanted to see him.
As he walked you to your car after a quick coffee and pastry, you smiled at him. Leaning against your car, you tugged him down by the collar of the familiar plain white tee he wore, pulling him in for a kiss. Bradley's hands found purchase on your hips, fingers giddy against your scrubs.
It was the fifth date, and both of you opted for a night in, where he promised to cook for you. It had also been the first time you had been in his apartment, Ducky clinging to your side the entire night.
Bradley had asked you to be his girlfriend before dinner was even finished, too distracted by the way you sat on the countertop to focus on the food simmering around him. You laughed as he flushed from the question and the sound of the smoke alarm going off, but ultimately said yes with a smile as he leaned down, caging you against his firm chest and the cabinets, to capture your lips in a deep kiss before waving a towel in front of the alarm. You couldn't help but laugh as you moved to open the sliding glass door to let the smoke out of the little house and to get some fresh air for yourself, too, after feeling how Bradley's hands rested on your thighs.
Recently, though, you had been having your fair share of sleepovers with the tall aviator. The first time he had slept over, you had shared one too many glasses of wine over sushi takeout from your favorite place downtown. After glancing at the clock and the empty bottle between you, you asked quietly if he wanted to spend the night.
Bradley hadn't ever seen you so shy before, but he figured the rosiness of your cheeks definitely matched his own and said nothing. Instead, he nodded, kissing your forehead sweetly as you further pushed into his hold.
He remembers feeling your soft face up against his bare chest as you dozed off, not being afraid to lean into his side once you had settled under the covers. The smell of your shampoo and lotion was strong, wafting off of you after your shower. Bradley lay there for a few minutes. Not daring to close his eyes, he instead wanted to take you in as you slept on top of him. The combination of your sweet smell and soft skin had the man reeling.
Now you lie on the couch at his apartment, and Bradley sees your eyes blinking away sleep as you curl up to his side. With a kiss pressed to your hair, your eyes widened as Bradley ushered you to the bedroom. Big hands coming up to your sides to support you, strong chest pushed against your back to guide you.
It was the first time you had slept over at his. But after grabbing a quick shower, inspecting all of the hair and body care products he had available, you took your place in bed. Bradley's sheets were softer than yours, and you wondered why it had taken so long to sleep over at his.
But before you were about to call out and ask him, the answer came jumping onto the bed next to you, taking Bradley's spot. You laughed softly as Ducky turned on his back, urging you to rub his tummy.
Getting out of the bathroom, with nothing but a tight towel around his waist, Bradley groaned. You giggled at this, but Bradley shook his head you and Ducky all cuddled up already.
Walking into the small closet on the other side of the room, your eyes tracked Bradley. The way the small towel around his hips was working to show off his deep V-line had you squirming in your spot on the bed. You watched his back muscles push and pull as he rolled his neck and stretched a bit while walking. Maybe you could offer to work out the knots; it'd be a win-win situation for you and your boyfriend.
As he emerged from the closet in nothing but a pair of boxers, you urged yourself to calm down. It wasn't like it was your first time seeing him in this state; you did have sleepovers at your apartment quite often. But it was the first time that you could actually do something about it.
There had been countless times when you and Bradley had been pretty handsy, but all of them seemed to be interrupted. Whether it was an emergency call from the clinic or an alert on Bradley's phone that Ducky had knocked over another vase in the house, something always tore you away in those moments.
You had felt Bradley's frustration, seen it firsthand. The way his jaw ticked each time, and his hands got all grabby before either of you had to leave. You didn't blame him, often finding yourself rubbing your thighs together after your time together was interrupted. Maybe even having a wandering hand shoot down your panties if he was the one who had to go.
But tonight you might have him all to yourself, whether that means deep kisses or holding each other tightly and finding sleep. That was until Ducky refused to move.
"Come on, Ducky, off the bed tonight," Bradley told the dog, standing over him.
"You let him sleep on the bed regularly?" you asked with a playful look on your face. Bradley caught your tone quickly, sending you a lighthearted eye roll.
"Yes, because I love my dog," he spoke, ruffling Ducky's ears.
"But what's the big bed for then?" you questioned again, smile growing bigger with every second.
Bradley wanted to lean over and kiss it off your face. But with the big dog in his way, he just shrugged. "He didn't like it."
You giggled at this, Ducky turning to you at the sound. "Gosh, he's a big softy, huh?" you told Ducky in a sweet tone, something that made Bradley suck his teeth and grin.
But with Ducky's attention elsewhere, Bradley was able to shift the dog to the end of the bed. Getting under the covers, Bradley reached for you automatically. Instead of feeling the cotton of your pajama pants that you usually wear, he instead felt your warm skin.
Seemingly watching the confusion spread across his face, you offered an explanation, "Your sheets are nice. And it's a little hot out."
If nice sheets and 90-degree weather were what it took to get you in the little lacy pink underwear your wore now, Bradley would buy a set in every color and run his heating system even on hot nights like tonight.
But instead, he just hummed, fingers tracing over the lacy trimming of your panties.
On top of this, you wore one of his old Navy shirts. Not expecting to sleep over, you had limited options available. Bradley had never been more thankful.
"Let's go to bed, pretty girl," Bradley told you as he saw the way your eyes started to blink closed again. You nodded sweetly at this and settled under the covers as he turned off the lamp on his nightstand.
Settling under the covers, Bradley's big hands found your stomach, pulling your back into his chest. From this position, sure, his hands could roam all over you, and he could touch anything that begged for his attention. But what stopped him in his tracks was the smell of his body wash on your skin.
It made logical sense. You had showered before getting in bed while he washed up the dishes and straightened the living room, but it didn't hit him until this very moment that you were fully his. The woman he had pined over for a month, not even knowing your name, only remembering your kind eyes and soft touch. Now, you were in his bed, falling asleep next to him in his shirt after washing yourself with his body wash.
What did he do to deserve you? You who cared for animals so much that you made a career out of it. You who held his hand and kissed away his tears when he finally told you about what happened to his father. You, who at every chance were unapologetically yourself, either dancing in the kitchen while making dinner or sobbing your eyes out while watching Marley & Me for the hundredth time.
He loved you. Bradley realized in that moment that he loved you. More than he had ever loved anyone like this before.
At the thought, his hands had squeezed your waist tightly, and you stirred next to him.
"Baby, are you okay?" you asked, voice laced with sleep.
Letting his grip on you loosen, he was quick to come down and kiss your neck in an apology. "Sorry, just thinking about you. Didn't mean to wake you up."
You hum, shifting against him slightly. Your neck is now on full display, and Bradley just couldn't help himself.
Feeling his warm mouth work against your sensitive neck made you squirm against him. Bradley's mouth was relentless, biting and licking underneath your jaw and down the side of your throat. Your breath hitched as he moved a spot near your pulse point, chest rising and falling dramatically.
Bradley's hands wrapped around your stomach once more, but this time, one of his hands snaked underneath your shirt. "Can I touch you like this?" his voice was deep, breath hot against your ear.
"Yes, please," you whispered.
Suddenly, his mouth was back on your throat, and your hips pushed back further into his now hard length. His hand came up to grab your tits. They were in the perfect position for Bradley, who was able to pinch and roll your nipples in between his big fingers.
"Oh gosh, Bradley," you huffed, eyes fully rolled back into your skull as his hand worked against your puffy nipples and he ground his length into your ass.
"Yeah, baby, feels good?" he asked in a cocky coo, watching the way you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded up and down at his words.
Your mouth opened, not quite knowing exactly if you could speak with the way his touch seemed to intensify in mere seconds. But still, you tried, aching for him now, "Touch me, please. Down-"
A loud bark had you jumping out of your skin. Ducky growled at Bradley, starting to shield you protectively.
You laughed at his dog's actions, and Bradley looked at you in disbelief.
"Ducky, down! Off the bed!" Bradley's voice was loud, but it carried no real weight to scare the dog. Ducky instead settled down in between you two, almost pushing Bradley off the bed.
You laughed again.
"This is unbelievable," Bradley scoffed as he threw the covers off his body and got out of bed. From here, you could see the way his length strained under his boxers.
But it wasn't long before Bradley was over at your side of the bed and scooping you up into his arms.
"What are you doing?" you asked, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
"Trying to give my girl what she wants. This time uninterrupted," Bradley huffed, sending a glare at Ducky on the bed as he carried you outside the bedroom.
But when Bradley closed the door, Ducky only started scratching and barking even louder. You looked at him with a small smile, pressing a kiss to his temple to calm him.
"I've got an idea," he spoke, something dancing in his eyes. "Go open the door to the patio."
"Bradley, no! You can't leave him out there!" you chastised with a small frown on your face.
He hummed, head falling into your shoulder. But just as quick as it fell, it came back up again.
"Okay, you go outside then. Wait for me," he told you, planting a searing kiss on your lips that made you forget any questions you had. Bradley placed you down softly and watched as you padded over to the back patio, underwear now clinging to your skin in a way that almost looked uncomfortable.
But as soon as he heard the click of the sliding glass door shutting. He opened the bedroom door and let Ducky inspect the living room.
"I don't know where she is, buddy," he told the dog, shoulders shrugging, really trying to sell the bit. Ducky sighed and made his way back into the bedroom after a few sniffs and laps around the couch.
After seeing him settle back into the bed and toss and turn for a few minutes, Bradley crept out the back door, swiping the big, soft blanket you liked so much, on his way.
"What'd you do?" you asked the man as he came up to you and draped the blanket around your shoulders.
"He's sleeping. Do you really think so poorly of me?" he teased, hands once again coming to your waist.
"I never said anything," you shot back, failing to hide the small smile on your face.
Bradley walked backwards until he reached the little love seat on his back patio, pulling you down so you were sitting on his lap. You smiled at the eager look on Bradley's face, giggling to yourself.
"Hi," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours.
"Hi," you teased back, meeting his lips halfway.
Bradley's mouth moved in a delicate, yet passionate way. His hands were planted firmly on your hips; you could feel his thumbs pressing into your skin as the kisses turned more intense. You gasped as Bradley dragged your core across his hard length, cotton rubbing together to create a dizzying friction.
Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bradley pushed his tongue into your mouth, licking into it with urgency. The noise that came out of your throat at his movements was quiet, but Bradley heard it nonetheless. Groaning into your mouth, Bradley moved your hips once more, going a bit crazy at the feeling of your heat against him.
"Come on, baby. Show me how much you need me, huh?" he broke the kiss to speak, eyes searching yours. But all he saw was the gloss already over them as you nodded quickly and threw your arms over his shoulders.
Bradley kissed down your neck as your hips started to move back and forth against his length. Your pace was slow, but he heard the hitches of your breath and decided not to push you just yet. His hands instead crawled up underneath your shirts and began to toy with your nipples again. At this, you captured your bottom lip between your teeth and nuzzled your head into the crook of Bradley's neck.
"So sensitive for me. Doing so good. You like it when I touch you like this?" he asked, nudging your head out from its hiding place.
With another nod of your head, Bradley grabbed your chin, quickly swiping your bottom lip out of its hold.
"Wanna hear you, please, baby," he begged, kissing your face sweetly. It was the exact opposite of how his other hand moved under your shirt, twisting and rubbing your pebbled nipples like they were his own special toys.
"Feels so good, Bradley," you said breathlessly. At the sound of his name falling from your lips, Bradley's hips jumped to meet the steady rhythm of yours. You yelped as he did so, but he was quick to capture your lips in another deep kiss, keeping his hips pressing harshly into your heat through the cotton of both your underwear.
"You're driving me crazy," he confessed, hand coming up to the hem of the old Navy shirt you were wearing. Looking to you for permission, you nodded wordlessly and felt the shirt being taken off your body.
Bradley threw the shirt across the patio and drove straight into your chest, taking one of your nipples between his lips. He lapped and sucked, feeling your hips roll with more urgency across his length at his ministrations.
"So beautiful, baby," he spoke in a low tone before switching to your other breast. One hand snaked around to hold onto your lower back, helping you with the drag. The other pinched at your now wet nipple softly.
"Bradley," you warned, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the combined feeling of his mouth, hands, and hips. The new pressure from the hand on your back was now pushing your hips in the perfect position, feeling his tip make contact with your clit through the cotton.
The man watched as you became consumed with pleasure, lip wobbling as your hips moved back and forth. He felt your fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, surely leaving marks.
His mouth popped off your nipple and made its way up to your open mouth, licking into it once again.
"Gonna come for me, baby? It's okay, I wanna feel you come. I'm right here," he spoke softly to you, watching your brows furrow and face twist.
The words and the intense look in Bradley's eyes made the tension in your tummy snap, hips moving fast to chase your high. You tried collapsing into your boyfriend, but with a firm hand that stayed on your jaw, you were forced upright, looking straight at Bradley as you came on his lap.
Your bare chest heaved as you came down from your high, pressing into Bradley's warm figure. His hand traveled from your lower back up to your hair, stroking it sweetly while placing soft kisses on your hairline.
"Can I feel you?" Bradley asked, fingers now toying with the lace on your underwear again.
"Yeah, but I wanna feel you too," you told him with a small smile on your face, bringing your fingers down to the waistband of his boxers. He chuckled at your actions, but still brought you into a sweet kiss.
Your hands pushed down his waistband and grasped his length in your hands. He was heavy in your hold, twitching as you rubbed a finger down the side of his member, tracing a prominent vein.
"So big," you whispered, more so to yourself, but the way Bradley's fingers moved to push into the front of your underwear made you think he must have heard you, too.
You felt one hand plant firmly on your waist while the other cupped your heat softly. His middle finger circled your entrance, rubbing little circles and spreading the wetness around, something that had you squirming in his hold. Bradley's thumb rubbed similar circles on your clit as you hunched over into his hold.
Your hands worked to rub at his tip, one hand coming up to your mouth to collect some spit, making the movements more fluid. Bradley shuddered as you found a steady pace, feeling your fingers continuously working over his sensitive head.
A finger pressed into your entrance, stretching you in an unfamiliar way. You whined into Bradley's neck at the feeling, tensing up for a moment. But he was quick to keep rubbing little circles against your nub, relaxing your muscles.
The finger pumped in and out of you at the same pace as your hand. Bradley's lips find your neck once more, now breathing heavier and lapping at more of your skin. As you ground down on him further, he moved to push another finger inside your wet entrance.
"Jesus, baby. Feel so fucking good around my fingers. Can't wait to have you on my dick," he groaned, feeling you clench and squeeze around his fingers. You moaned at his words, pushing further into him to rub your breasts against the hard muscles of his chest. Your nipples rubbed harshly against him as you moved your hand more quickly to keep up with the rhythm of his fingers.
"Need you, please, Bradley. Now," you gasped, feeling your stomach wind up again. He nodded at your words, pulling his fingers from your entrance and instead picking you up off his hips, pushing you up against the wood railing of the patio.
"This okay, baby? You okay with me taking you like this?" Bradley asked, referring to your back meeting his chest, taking you from behind. Your stomach jumped at his words as you braced your hands against the railing.
"Yes, please, Bradley." The words were barely off the tip of your tongue when you felt Bradley tug down your underwear, leaving you completely bare in the warm summer breeze. He quickly did the same with his own underwear, fully allowing his member to spring free and rub on your ass.
One of his large hands came to wrap around your hips while the other guided his cock into your entrance. Feeling your breathing pick up, Bradley placed sweet kisses on your neck before whispering, "Breathe for me, baby. I got you."
Taking a deep breath, you exhaled as Bradley pushed into you. It was only his tip at first, but the way you pushed your hips back at the feeling of him drove his hips further, pushing in fully.
Gasping at the stretch, your head lay back on Bradley's broad chest as he snuck his other hand around to toy with your tits. Your nipples were still sensitive from his actions earlier, so this only caused you to push further into his hold.
"Can I move? Are you okay? Need to hear you, talk to me, baby," Bradley told you, kissing the top of your head softly.
"Feels really good, please, Bradley. Need you to move," you complied, as he nodded, pressing his hips into you before drawing out and pushing in again.
You whine as he sets a steady pace. His hands roam all over your body, trying to grab onto every part of you. Your tits, your thighs, your throat. You feel your eyes cross once his thumb lands on your clit once more, squirming and crying out in a nonsensical plea.
Bradley watches as you start to fall apart on him. His hips are moving to piston his hard length into your warm heat, finding it hard not to fully bend you over the railing and have his way with you. Instead, setting a pace that had you crying out every few seconds, mouth open, and eyes closing at his deep movements.
The crude sounds of his hips meeting your ass were filthy and the loudest thing in contrast to the otherwise quiet night. The extra squelching sounds surely come from the previous orgasm you had. Bradley wondered what you tasted like, but he'd have to save it for next time.
"So good, feels so good. My pretty girl," Bradley groaned, head dropping to kiss along your exposed jaw line, hand pushing your tummy to arch you even further into his hold.
You moaned in response, feeling him deeper, feeling more pressure. "For you, only you, Bradley," you told him, head turning to capture his lips in a kiss.
Bradley felt a surge of energy at your words. His thumb worked in tighter circles against your clit, the kind that had you shaking earlier on the loveseat.
"Yeah? This is my pussy, baby? Gonna let me fill you up?" he asked, spit mixing with yours as he bit harshly on your bottom lip.
"Mhm, please. All yours," you cried out as his other hand came to hold across your hips, helping him push you to the edge by bending your frame even more than it already was. Your back arched away from Bradley as your hips and head pushed back to meet his solid body.
"Fuck, baby. Can't say shit like that," he scolded, but his hips kept pounding into you.
Bradley's filthy mouth was somewhat shocking to you. The only other time he had cursed around you was when he had stubbed his toes on the corner of your bed 3 weeks ago. So his words sent a chill down your spine despite the heat of the summer air.
Bradley's thumb stayed in its spot, working your clit and making you twitch and begin to thrash in his hold. But his other arm thrown around your hips made sure that you still felt his deep thrusts.
"Bradley," you breathed out, head tilting back to look at the man. Sweat dripped from his hairline, but he still moved to swoop down and catch you in a searing kiss.
"I got you, I got you. Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come on my dick." His words pushed you over the edge as he licked into your mouth once more after speaking. The constant rub from his thumb and deep thrusts had you shaking as you worked through your high with him.
Seeing the way your body tensed, your tits bouncing with every movement, and your thighs shaking, had Bradley releasing in you with a low groan. His hips canted into you, slowing down slightly with each thrust, only moving to help you both work through your respective highs.
He had neglected to turn on any porch lights to not alert any neighbors or even Ducky, but the way the moonlight streamed through the trees and painted your features was something Bradley wished he could remember forever. Your lips were still parted, taking labored breaths. Your eyes were glossy, like you were trying to focus and come back into your body. Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of rosy pink than he had ever seen on you before.
You were beautiful.
Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek, and he felt you smile against his lips.
"Feeling okay, that wasn't too much, pretty baby?" he asked, genuine concern making his brows furrow.
You moved a thumb up to smooth the creases, kissing him softly on the nose with a small giggle. "Felt really good, Bradley. Gonna need some help walking, for sure though."
He chuckled at this, kissing your lips this time, deep and slow.
"I can help with that," he told you as he pulled out, both of you wincing at the loss. He quickly picked you up bridal style and carried you into the house, only letting your feet touch the ground as he set you down on the edge of the guest room bathtub.
Bradley moved to start the water, running his fingers under it to make sure it wasn't too warm or too cold before plugging the tub.
His big hands came down to frame your face, fingers a little wet, but you leaned into his touch regardless. "Gonna go grab our stuff outside and start a pot of tea and come back, okay?" he asked, searching your eyes. You smiled at him, and he leaned down once more to capture your soft lips between his own, the brush of his mustache making you giggle into the kiss.
"I love you, Bradley," you told him, lip now pulled between your teeth as you looked sheepishly at him.
But the man smiled wider than you had ever seen as he began to pepper kisses all over your face and head. You giggled at this, hands coming up to hold his which still framed your face.
"I love you so much," he told you, coming down to peck your lips once more, but the sound of the whine made you and Bradley turn towards the entrance of the bathroom.
Ducky huffed, lying on the cool hardwood, making you and Bradley laugh.
"We love you too, Ducky," the man teased, sending you a wink as you bit back a grin at the sight in front of you.
working on a new bradley piece this week! just got settled in my internship and finished up some grad school applications! hoping to have this piece out in a week! thank you for your support and patience with my schedule! ❤️
summary: bob floyd was in a pickle. his ma and pa were expecting him to bring someone home for his older brother’s wedding. are you up for the challenge of being his fake girlfriend for the week? or will it ruin your friendship?
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem and male receiving (bob eating it from the back), male masturbation, roommates/friends to lovers (my fav trope sue me), no use of y/n
word count: 14.3k
a/n: bob is a total mama's boy in this, but in such a good way. can you guys tell i just love bob so much? i hope you enjoy!
masterlist
your call sign: bee
In a month, Bob was expected back in Montana for his older brother's wedding. But he stared at the most recent missed call from his Ma and grimaced. How was the wedding already so close? And how had he dropped the ball this badly?
A few months earlier...
"Ma, yes, I'm still coming," Bob spoke into the phone pressed against his cheek and shoulder. His hands were folding his fresh laundry as it lay out on his bed.
"And your older brother needs to know if you're bringing someone with you, honey. There's no shame in coming home alone again..." his mother said in a sweet voice, but Bob knew what the underlying tone meant. All his life, he never had anyone to bring home. It was like an ongoing joke inside his family at this point. No high school or college girlfriends seemed acceptable at the time, but now he was a Navy pilot and couldn't get a girl? Well couldn't get the girl he really wanted.
Before he even thought about what he was saying, he blurted out a response, "I'm bringing someone."
What.
"What?! Robert Floyd, you better not be messing with me!" his mother squealed over the phone. "Jim!" Bob had to pull the phone away from his ear with a grimace as his mother shouted for his father. "He's bringing someone!"
"About time," he could hear his father's gruff voice on the other end of the call. "Was gettin' worried about him out there in California. That boy's not built for the beach."
"Oh, you hush! Honey, I'll go ahead and let Mark know. I love you!" his mother's excitement could be felt through the phone, her voice all high and pitchy.
"Bye Ma, I love you," Bob huffed out. What did he just do?
"How's she doing?" Bob jumped at the sound of your voice, quickly turning to you. You lounged against the door frame of his bedroom, wearing nothing but a sports bra and some running shorts. He hadn't expected you to be home from your run with Phoenix so soon.
"Ma? Oh, uh, yeah, she's good. She's good, nothing new, y'know," he fumbled through a response, trying to not to look at the way the beads of sweat ran down your neck.
You hummed at him, "That's good. Are you still up for Thai food tonight? The new place on 4th?"
Of course, he was. When you first mentioned it last weekend, he had almost jumped at the opportunity. Sure, he liked Thai food, but sitting across from you and sharing a meal was what Bob really cherished. "Yep! Yeah, that sounds good. Ready in an hour?"
"You read my mind, Bobby," you said with a grin as you backed into your room across from his.
Present time…
“What’s wrong?” you saw the scowl on Bob’s face as he stirred the pasta like he had a personal vendetta against it.
“Huh? Oh, um, just thinking about my brother’s wedding,” he said like even the thought made him sick.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said as you prepped the various vegetables on the countertop around you. “I love weddings. The outfits, the candles, the flowers! I can’t wait to get married. And I don’t want to have a big wedding, y’know? But like more of a backyard, summer barbecue type of vibe. Oh! And I want all my bridesmaids in different color dresses!”
Bob watched you as you described your perfect wedding, mentally taking notes. The way you had set down the knife to wave your hands around was adorable. You were always so animated, unafraid to show your emotions.
“But Bobby, the best part about weddings is…” you left the ending open for him, ushering him to fill in the blank.
“The cake?” he questioned. To be honest, he was trying to appeal to your sweet tooth.
“I mean, yeah, that’s pretty high up there. But no, it’s the look right before the first kiss. So many people say it’s the first look or the actual kiss, but for me it’s that moment where everyone knows what’s coming next and the purest emotions are on the bride and groom's faces,” you explained in pure joy and awe, like you had experienced this feeling yourself. It was sweet to watch. Your wonder and love for the simple things were something Bob loved about you.
“But, why is that moment better than the first look?” he asked innocently.
You sighed wistfully. "Just that moment when you can see the excitement on the groom's face, and he can barely contain himself. And the bride is usually so bashful, but always so excited. It's just so sweet, Bobby."
It did sound sweet. If Bob and you were getting married, he doubts he'd be able to contain his eagerness before the first kiss. No, he'd be way too focused on you to even listen to the officiant of the ceremony. Surely, he'd forget what to say, and he'd be a mess through his vows.
Bob was quiet for a minute or two, and you wondered what was going on in his head. You saw the way he had a small smile on his face, like it was hidden and just for him at this moment. And the way his shoulders relaxed, going more and more slack as time passed.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" you asked him with a teasing smile.
"Yeah, maybe," he chuckled and went back to stirring the pasta. Bob wanted to stay in this moment forever with you. It was so domestic. Cooking together in the kitchen you shared, laughing and throwing each other playful looks, talking about weddings. Maybe one day you'll talk about your wedding. Anything you wanted for the big day, Bob was sure to agree.
Living with you had been both the best and worst thing for Bob. A few months into the program, your lease was about to let up, and you were scrambling to find a new place. Bob hadn't known you prior to the mission that brought you all down to San Diego, but you had become close very quickly. Being two of only a few backseaters in the squad, you and Bob had spent a lot of time together in training and going over mission briefs. He had met a handful of WSOs in his time in the Navy, but knowing you was like a breath of fresh air. You never diminished your position or your knowledge, even when other pilots would question your place in the military. It was a learning curve for him to be around at first; seeing you go toe-to-toe with cocky pilots was daunting. He learned that's where your call sign came from, Bee. You were sweet, but could sting when you wanted. Soon, he got used to it, becoming more confident in himself in turn.
When you joked about bumming it on Phoenix's couch until you found a new place, Bob chimed in, "You can stay at mine. I have a spare bedroom, never really got around to using it."
"Wait, really?" you asked, fully turning your body towards him. You always did that, too, gave your full attention to whoever you were talking to. It was a bit intimidating. Bob was only now getting used to it, but still felt his heart beat pick up.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind having a roommate," he said with a soft smile.
"Oh, Bobby, I could kiss you right now!" you said with a big grin, squeezing his forearm. He wished you had.
It wasn't until you had fully moved in that Bob realized the full consequences of his actions. You were horrible to live with.
Not in the way that you left dishes in the sink to "soak" all week, or you forgot to switch your laundry out for hours on end, or even in the way that you would blast music loudly at 2 in the morning. No, you didn't do any of those things. In fact, you always cleaned up after yourself, and Bob too, taking his plate right from his lap before he could protest. You cleaned the whole apartment, top to bottom, on Sundays. Your music carried throughout the hallways as you moved from room to room. Best of all, you baked! Every week! Trying a new recipe and being a little messy was your favorite way to unwind from a hectic work week, and lucky for Bob, he was your taste tester. Sure, you brought in your treats for the entire squad on Mondays, but Bob got to sit at the counter and watch you work. You would always gravitate towards him during this time, either letting him try the new brownie batter before you added more sugar or asking him how many chocolate chips are too many.
You were a great roommate. Always so courteous and kind. Anyone would be lucky to share a space like this with you. But it was torture actually living with you.
Too many times, Bob has caught a glimpse of you walking around in nothing but a shirt and some panties. To be fair, it was almost always after you had showered and were walking to your room. But as Bob watched you track down the hallway, he cursed himself for offering up the room in the first place.
And since moving in and getting closer, you had become even more touchy than usual with him. You were quick to give out hugs and other normal affectionate gestures to everyone on the squad, Bob included, even when he had only known you for a few weeks. But now, it was like Bob's personal space was your personal space. You always pressed into him when maneuvering around the small kitchen. Bob always held his breath, feeling you up against him, reaching for the oregano or paprika. Recently, too, your hand would work its way into his windswept hair after long days at the beach. The way your nails would drag against his scalp made him want to groan every time.
But worst of all were busy nights at the Hard Deck. On multiple occasions, barstools would fill up quick, only leaving the squad with two or three seats. It was fine for most of the night, with everyone so invested in the latest match of pool between Bradley and Jake. But after a few hours, you needed a break and always found your way into Bob's lap.
"I can get up, so you can sit," Bob stammered out the first time you sat on his lap. The rest of the squad shared amused looks, careful to hide them from both of you.
"It's okay, Bobby, I know you wanna sit too. Plus, you're comfy," you said, wiggling around trying to find the best position like he actively wasn't about to combust.
A bump of your hip snapped the man back into your kitchen. "Everything okay over there, space cadet?" you asked, tilting your head to look at him better.
"Mhm, yeah. I'm okay," he said in a small voice, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes.
Furrowing your brows, you wondered what was making Bob so distant tonight. "You know you can always talk to me, right?" you offered with a small smile. People say that but rarely mean it. But you meant it, and you wanted him to know that. He just nodded his head and continued stirring the boiling pasta. "Okay, Bobby. I'm here when you want to talk," you said as you rubbed up and down his back. You swore you saw a chill run up his spine.
You watched the way his face continued to fall as you worked on dinner. Bob was always quieter than you, so gentle and sweet. But you hoped whatever was bothering him would go away, or that he would talk to you about it at least. As the night continued, he gave you those small smiles, and your worry just grew.
જ⁀➴
"Why don't you just ask Bee?" Phoenix questioned as she grabbed the drink Penny put on the bar top. The Hard Deck was busy with patrons in all corners of the joint.
"I can't just ask her!" Bob squeaked out; he felt his cheeks flush at the thought of it.
"Why not? Because you have a crush on her? Come on, Bob," she teased him with a shit-eating grin on her face. She watched him slump against the bar as if she had just punched him in the gut. "If you won't take me, then why not Bee?"
Bob sighed, given that they had this conversation almost every day. Before training, after training, and even during training. Even the clear blue skies weren't safe from Natasha's questions. "It's not like I don't want to take you. But my parents know you. They're expecting me to bring someone home, y'know."
"Someone to give them grandchildren," Phoenix cackled as Bob groaned loudly. Penny placed his fizzy soda on the bar with a smile, knowing all about the man's debacle. Natasha thanked her, and they made their way back to the squad.
"Don't say that! I don't even, I can't even think- Oh jeez, Phoenix. No more talking about this. I've decided." The pilot swore she had never heard his voice that pitchy before. Bob shook his head as he wove through the crowd of people.
Once they had settled back into the fray of the squad, Natasha finally took to giving actual advice, not just teasing her back-seater. "I think you should just be honest, tell her. It's Bee."
"Oh yeah, let me just tell her I've been in love with her for months on end now. She's gonna think I'm a creep! Luring her into my apartment, making her live with me," he half shouted, half whispered at her. "And I also said, I didn't want to talk about this. Especially with her right there." Bob glanced at you laughing freely with Bradley, head thrown back. Your energy was contagious to the people around you, as he saw Bradley and Mickey spotting matching smiles. Bob found himself smiling to himself, too.
"She wanted to live with you, idiot. And I'm not saying confess your love. Just ask for this favor. You don't have to give anything away if you don't want to," she said matter-of-factly. If only it were that easy. Within minutes of you being in his childhood home, Bob would surely fold and show all the feelings he's been trying so hard to hide. One conversation and approving nod from his mother, and he'd propose on the spot.
The pair were too entrenched in their conversation to see you making your way over. You didn't mean to snoop, but you couldn't help overhearing snips of their chatter.
"I just don't know what I'm going to do. I have to tell Ma I'm not bringing anyone," Bob muttered, dragging a hand down his jaw.
"To the wedding?" You whipped around and saw Bob's eyes almost pop out from behind his glasses. Phoenix, however, let a mischievous glint dance on her face as she watched the two of you. Directing your attention back to Bob, you continued, "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But if you need someone, I'll go."
Natasha let out the biggest cackle you had heard; it even caught a few of the other aviators' attention. She looked to Bob, who seemed to be frozen in time, and decided she would do her best friend a solid.
"His family is expecting a girlfriend. That's why Bob is having such a hard time," she explained. But you just furrowed your brows further at this.
"I'll be your girlfriend," you said. At this, Bob nearly fell off his barstool. "I mean, I can be your pretend girlfriend for a week. I'm really good with parents and family and stuff. And we know each other well, too! I'm sure we'd be a convincing couple. So, yeah. If you need someone." Suddenly, you felt awkward under his gaze. You definitely gave it away. Who just proclaims they'd be someones fake girlfriend?
You met Jake's gaze from across the pool table and saw him biting down on his bottom lip, trying to suppress the grin on his face. Flashing a 'Help me!' face in his direction, the blonde man made his way over to you.
"Offering your fake girlfriend services again, Bee?" he asked with a raised brow. Both Phoenix and Bob shot him quizzical looks. "Bee came out to dinner with my folks when they were in town a few weeks ago. They were on me about not settling down, but she quelled those fears. Swear I've never seen my mom fall in love faster."
"Really?" Bob asked, looking between both of you. "You met his parents?" A flash of hurt crossed his face. You had missed it completely, but both Hangman and Phoenix caught the distress on his face.
"That's perfect! Right, Bob? Bee would be great," she hit his arm, trying to snap him out of what Jake had just said. The three of you looked at Bob, waiting for his response.
He nodded slowly before responding, "Yeah, I mean, if you're okay with missing the full week. I'd love to take you." Natasha grinned at his recovery, mentally noting to pat him on the back about it later.
"I can talk to Maverick about it tomorrow. I'd love to come," you said bashfully. Jake smiled knowingly at your response. He locked eyes with Natasha and winked. The woman just rolled her eyes but got the signal.
"When was the last time I beat you in pool Hangman? I think my trophy needs a little dusting off," she challenged, gaining the attention of the squad and taking it off Bob and you.
"Looking for a rematch? I'm happy to oblige," Jake said in a sickeningly sweet tone. He stepped closer so only she could hear the next part of his sentence, "I'll win this game, just like I'll win our bet."
"In your dreams, Seresin," she scoffed. "Rack 'em!"
જ⁀➴
Jake's couch had become a second home to you at this point. Its cushions surely remembered the way you would slump into them every weekend. Being Jake's back-seater was a challenge at first; you were never one to back down, and neither was Jake. It wasn't until you both had figured out that instead of going up against each other, you could turn your focus on the pilots around you. So as time went on, you bonded over your love for college football, dad rock, and surprisingly, the Great British Bake Off.
"Oh come on, Tom! No one is going to win with a ganache like that," Jake exclaimed from the end of the couch. There was no quippy response from you, and Jake raised an eyebrow in your direction. You had been like this all week. Mopey and weird. Your usual trash talk to other pilots or Maverick was replaced with a stone-cold face. It was just as intimidating, but Jake knew something was up.
Clutching the throw pillow in your arms, you couldn't even focus on the monstrosity that was Tom's cake on your screen. No, all that ran through your head was how you were going to contain yourself around Bob and his family. In just two days.
With a whack, fabric came flying on top of your head.
"Ow! Jake!" you exclaimed, immediately putting your arms up to protect yourself from further attacks.
"Jake! Don't Jake, me," he sassed you, only making the pout in your lips grow deeper. "What is going on with you? Is this still about Baby on Board?"
"Don't call him that," you grumbled, taking your pillow and whacking him across the chest.
He just rolled his eyes and continued, "Seriously, you need to get it together. Baby on Board and his family are expecting a perfect girlfriend, and right now, you're this."
You scowled at him as he chastised you. "Jake, that's mean. I just," you sighed before continuing. "I just don't know how I'm going to do this. A whole week? He'll know!"
Your dramatics were nothing new to Jake, but when it came to Bob, it seemed like you dialed it up tenfold. "This opportunity has been placed in your lap. I think you should take advantage of it, embrace it," he suggested.
"That's easier said than done," you mumbled.
This upcoming week made you queasy just thinking about it. It wasn't that you didn't want to go to meet Bob's family. No, you wanted all of it. But not like this. From the first day you met Bob, you knew you were in for it. His cute glasses and sweet smile almost had you confessing by the end of the first week.
When he asked you to move in with him, you had happily agreed. But as the arrangement unfolded, you realized what kind of agony would be in store for the near future. The way he always carried in all the groceries, not letting you lift a finger. How he always drove you, never letting you sit behind the wheel, no matter what kind of day he had. And he was so handy around the apartment, too. One day, the garbage disposal in your kitchen stopped working, and just as you were about to call someone, Bob brought over his tool kit and got down on his knees. It was way more attractive than it needed to be.
But these little daily pains were nothing compared to what you had walked in on about a month ago. You were about to go on your daily run with Phoenix when she called you from the car to cancel. Turning your keys and walking back into the house, you slipped off your sneakers and began padding down the hallway towards your room.
Just as you were about to head into your room, there was an odd sound. At first, you thought it was the apartment, settling, or something that people always say when a building makes noise. But as you paused, clutching your shoes and phone close to you, you knew it was something else. It was him.
His moans were unmistakable, so vocal and loud. And you froze. For a few seconds, you just stood there, listening. Listening to Bob falling apart. The schlepping of his hand against himself was unmistakable. The rocking of the bed, too. You had to peel yourself away from this. Away from his noise. So that's what you did.
You tried to forget it. But a part of you wanted to remember, as horrible as that sounds. You hadn't been able to look Bob in the eye for a few days after, and when you did, the heat in your tummy would start again.
The thought of sharing this week with Bob was more daunting than any mission you had ever faced.
"Hey! Are we going to watch this episode, or are you just going to sit and stew the whole night?" Jake's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Sorry, just a little worried still," you said quietly. Jake had never seen you like this before, so in your own head.
He slid down the couch and placed an arm around your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay, I promise. Your biggest worries right now should be if Tom can figure out his presentation for the judges."
You giggled at his teasing. "Fucking, Tom," you murmured under your breath.
"Yes, fucking, Tom! God, he's selling it!" Jake boomed next to you, throwing you into another fit of laughter. "Seriously, Bee. Don't worry too much about this week."
"I will be texting you live updates every hour, I hope you know," you said with a grin.
"Wow, only hour updates. I was expecting every 5 minutes," Jake teased, poking into your sides. You just swatted his hands away, fighting off a smile.
જ⁀➴
Stepping onto the packed dirt and smelling the fresh Montana air was a relief to Bob. The picturesque mountain ranges were illuminated by the strong moonlight, and the sky was lit up by thousands of twinkling stars. It was something to get lost in, and that's exactly what Bob found as he turned to look at you. "It's so beautiful," you said, eye going a little wide, and your voice was quiet. Bob figured it was from your hours of traveling, maybe partly from the awe of the view.
Without looking away from you, he responded, "Very beautiful."
Bob's moment of peace with you was interrupted by a swift closing of the front door and a cheery voice. "Bob! Oh, honey, you made it safe!" an older, but spry woman ran up to Bob. You looked at the pair as they embraced and caught a look at them, side by side. Bob was much larger than the woman, towering over her. His arms stood out against her frame as your eyes trailed across his large muscles and hands without even realizing what you were doing. And his nose, it was the same as the woman who stood next to him. The cute button was something you always caught yourself looking at when tracing the map of his face.
A squeal snapped you out of your daze, and you were quickly met with a tight hug and a rushed introduction of Bob's mother's name, Pam. "Oh wow! You must be Bee! You are so gorgeous. I don't know why Bob kept you hidden from us for so long." She leaned back a bit and took you in, dragging her hands across your frame and face. You giggled at her ministrations.
"Thank you for having me this week. I'm so excited to get to know you all," you said with a sweet smile.
"Oh, we are so happy to have you, Bee! Such a cute little nickname, you don't mind?" she asked, but continued on anyway. "We were a little worried about Bob for a while there. Honestly, never thought he would-"
Bob's eyes widened, knowing the long list of stories his mother could tell you. "Alright! Alright, let's not talk about all that just yet," he cut her off with a blush that dusted his cheeks.
"Honestly," you started, gaining the attention of both Bob and his mother. "Bob is the best thing that's ever happened to me. You raised such a kind and thoughtful man. I'm so thankful for him." Your eyes met his as you spoke, sharing a look of genuine care. Pam caught the way you looked at her son and smiled knowingly.
"Well, you two had better head on up to bed. Your Pa is sleeping, but he'll be up bright and early. And everyone will be over tomorrow night to meet you, Bee," Pam said, finally letting you out of her grasp. Instead, she placed a hand on your lower back to guide you inside.
You turned to grab some of your bags to take inside, but instead saw Bob balancing all of your luggage in his hold, just the same as when you left the apartment and at the airport. He shot you a look, telling you to head inside. You rolled your eyes, but mouthed 'thank you' as you kept walking with his mother.
She led you to a small bedroom upstairs in the rustic-looking house. It was cosy, a queen bed with golden colored quilt, a small adjoining bathroom, and a small window with lace curtains. She gave you another quick hug and whispered 'goodnight' before heading back down the stairs to bed.
Bob set down your bags and let out a deep breath.
"You okay? Wanna shower first? You had a long day," you said, a hand coming to his shoulder and rubbing it sweetly. He melted into your touch, unconsciously leaning into you.
"No, no. You go first, I'll be okay," Bob said softly, trailing off a bit towards the end. You had been traveling since that morning, and you could tell how tired the man in front of you was. Your flight was a few hours long, and since his family didn't live in Bozeman or Billings, Bob had to rent a car and drive 3 more hours out to the small town.
"Bobby, go shower and get ready for bed. I'll unpack and lay out the clothes for tomorrow." You took your hands and placed them on both sides of his shoulder, pushing him into the bathroom as he chuckled lowly.
Bob gave you a tired, but grateful look before he closed the bathroom door carefully. Today had been long, but seeing the way you interacted with his mother made it all worth it.
Stepping under the warm stream of water, Bob felt his muscles relax instantly. He didn't want to take long in the shower, knowing you were waiting for him, but he also needed a few moments to himself. Reflecting on your day together, Bob felt himself getting half hard at the thought of you.
On the plane ride over, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder, your body angling into his. With your odd positioning, your tits were pressed right up against him for the majority of the flight. It took everything in him to keep his gaze straight ahead on the action movie playing on the little screen in front of him and not your soft, full chest.
His right hand drifted down, gripping himself firmly.
And your hair. You had been tucked right under his chin, and the scent of your shampoo was overwhelming. Sometimes, Bob would catch a whiff of it floating down the hallway after your showers, but now it was coming at him in waves. He felt like such a creep, but what was he supposed to do? Push you away from him? Bob didn't know the next time you would get so close to him.
Now, his cock stood proud under the stream.
In the car ride over, you had made it a point to keep him company since it was so late at night. Finding a radio station that played old country music, you began to sing along to almost every song that played. After the fourth song, Bob knew it wasn't a fluke that you knew all the lyrics so well. You explained that your college roommate was from Wyoming and was constantly playing her music in the dorms.
Bob knew he needed to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn't help the way he looked over to your figure sitting beside him. Your lips moving along to whatever song was playing, your thighs pressed up against the leather seat of the truck, and the way your hand would occasionally find its way to his upper back, rubbing soft, smooth circles into it, all drove him to glance over at your sweet face.
His pace was steady now.
Bob felt so dirty, touching himself like this with you, only a thin wall away. But he knew if he didn't do it now, he wasn't sure when he would get a chance this week. So he hunched over the corner of the shower, trying to focus on anything but you. But like every time before this one, Bob's mind only wandered to thoughts of you.
What would you look like with water cascading down your tits? Or how your back would arch into the tile of the shower as he fucked you from behind. Best of all, how your face would twist with pleasure as he drilled into you, making you cum all over his thick cock.
That's what always got him to finish. Thinking about you, your pleasure. He caught the groan in his throat before it sounded, instead biting down on his free fist, whining lowly.
After cleaning up fully, Bob looked around the bathroom and realized he hadn't brought any clean clothes in with his. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped out sheepishly.
At the creak of the bathroom door, you looked up from your place on the ground. You were met with Bob's nearly bare form. Water droplets from his hair were dripping down his shoulders, finding their way down his chest and waist. As you tracked one of the droplets, your eyes stopped when they met his waist. Bob's v-line was even better than you had imagined, and you had thought about it a lot.
He had an aversion to taking his shirt off around others, and that was reasonable. Especially in front of a bunch of macho, testosterone-fueled Navy men. But you had always wondered what he looked like under the kaki uniform he wore so often. Seeing it up close almost had you drooling.
"Forgot a change of clothes," he explained in a quiet voice. You just hummed, not trusting your voice. Pushing up off the ground and padding over to the dresser, you opened a drawer, and Bob found all of his clothes folded and set perfectly. His heart warmed at the thought of your delicate fingers working across all the clothing he had packed for the week. You had obviously taken care of his stuff first, as your luggage was still open on the floor.
Bob grabbed a change of clothes and kept his voice at the same quiet tone, "Thank you, Bee." You smiled up at him, staring a bit too long. But quickly, you fumbled to grab your nightwear from your bag and made your way into the bathroom.
Bob dropped the towel from his waist and began to dress. He didn't miss the way your eyes trailed down his body, and honestly, it made his stomach flip. Just as he was about to lie down and call it a night, he realized you hadn't discussed the bed situation. Bob would never want to make you uncomfortable, so he shuffled down the hall and found his way into the spare linen closet, grabbing a fluffy comforter and some blankets to lie down on the floor beside the bed.
Not too long after, you emerged from the bathroom and furrowed your brows at the sight of the empty bedroom, expecting to see Bob knocked out on the bed from such a long day.
"Down here," Bob's voice startled you as his hand shot up in a lazy wave from the other side of the bed.
"Bob? What are you doing?" you asked the man, walking over to see him laying down on the makeshift bed he had set up on the hardwood floor.
He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting your eyes. "Didn't want to make you feel like we needed to share the bed or anything like that."
"We've literally fallen asleep on the couch together," you said, narrowing your eyes as a teasing smile made its way to your face at his chivalry. "I don't mind sharing the bed at all, Bobby. And that can't be comfortable."
"No, no. Ma's got the best blankets. Feels like a cloud," Bob explained with a soft smile.
You narrowed your eyes at the man before speaking, "With you back? Do you remember earlier today when we got off the plane?"
Bob recalled the moment of weakness. He had stretched out a bit too far after sitting for hours on end and felt a tug throughout his body, wincing a little. You had fused over him for the next 30 minutes, almost refusing to get in the car if you couldn't drive. But Bob, of course, got his way.
He looked as if he was about to argue with you. Bob was hardheaded sometimes, but you knew just the right thing to say to knock him out of it.
"Plus, if your mom comes to wake us up and she sees you sleeping on the floor, everything would be ruined," you offered. Seeing a look of recognition flash across his face, he nodded slowly, like he was considering your words. "Come on, Bobby. I'll help you fold everything and put it back."
You giggled as he sprang up from the floor, a hand already coming down to his lower back.
"I knew your back was going to hurt! Comfy my ass," you said, smacking him lightly across the chest. He just smiled at you, joining in with some soft chuckles that warmed your heart.
Curling into bed, you felt sleep hit you almost immediately. Letting your eyelids droop, part of you wanted to stay up and think about tomorrow. To pick Bob's brain about who might show up. Worry about what they would think of you. But the sound of Bob's voice made your heart slow and breathing even out.
"G'night, Bee. Thank you again for coming with me," Bob told you, not even sure if you were lucid enough to hear him.
"Anything for you, Bobby. Goodnight," you said in the softest voice he thinks he's ever heard from you. Your words slurred a little and were definitely muffled by the pillow, but he still heard you. He saw your eyelashes flutter across your cheeks as you settled into sleep. The way your mouth opened slightly, lips parting so delicately. How your body seemed to curl into itself, making you look so small and fragile.
Wishing to hold you close to his chest like earlier today on the plane or to grasp your hand to hold in his sleep, Bob just stayed up for a few minutes longer to watch your sleeping form. Soon enough, his thoughts of you became muddy and distant as sleep took over, claiming you both now.
જ⁀➴
Bob had awoken to soft beams of sunlight streaming through the lace curtains. Everything was quiet, and Bob let himself lie for a moment, taking in the peace. Just as he was about to stretch and get up, he looked to his side and saw you.
Your cheek was still flushed up against the pillow, and your hair was in a bit of a mess as it rubbed on the fabric. It wasn't rare that Bob got to see you relax, but it was rare to see you completely void of all concerns. Usually, you were still holding some type of resistance in your shoulders or furrowing your brows slightly, even when lying across the couch at the end of the day. But now, you looked completely free. He smiled a bit at this.
Like you had sensed him mentally tracing the outline of your nose or the apples of your cheeks, suddenly your eyelashes fluttered, and you opened your eyes.
"G'morning, Bobby," you half mumbled-half whispered into your pillow. You weren't sure he understood you until hearing his telltale chuckle that was seemingly reserved for you.
"Morning, Bee," he said softly, voice a little deeper than usual. You chalked it up to the morning hours, but it still made your tummy flip. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mhm," you hummed. Bob saw that you made no effort to move from your comfortable position and chuckled again.
He often teased you for being so out of it in the mornings, but Bob had never seen you so unguarded. On the weekends you had off from training, you would usually pad into the kitchen, eyes still a little puffy and your movement still a little soft. There was one time Bob had to quickly intervene before you poured your coffee into your cereal bowl instead of your mug. But right now was different.
"Don't laugh," you grumbled. "Need like five more minutes. Or maybe ten."
Just as Bob was about to say okay and lie back under the covers with you, he heard a familiar pattern of steps making their way up the hallway.
"I'm afraid you're not going to get that, Bee," he spoke, seeing your brows fold in on themselves at his words. But soon, the bedroom door opened, and Pam was rushing to hug you good morning.
"I can see Bob has been soft on you, letting you sleep in," she joked as you shot up in the bed to meet her embrace. "We Floyds are early risers! Better start building the habit now."
"Oh, I know. Bob's up every morning at the crack of dawn, it feels like. Always hear him trying to be so quiet around the apartment," you said with a yawn as she drew away from you. Bob's cheeks heated at the thought of you being so in tune with his morning routine.
"Well, I won't rush you this morning, but breakfast will be ready in 20 minutes. Then we'll head into town afterwards, alright, Bee?" she said with a fond smile on her face. You nodded your head, saying a quick thank you as she closed the door and left.
The room was silent for a few seconds as you and Bob shared a small smile and knowing look at what had happened. "I'm only getting up early for her this week, Floyd. Don't expect any new habits when we're back home," you joked, a teasing smile on your face.
"Oh, I know. Wouldn't want to disrupt your morning routine of inside-out jeans and backwards shirts," Bob said with full seriousness as he pushed the covers off his body.
"Whatever that happened like one time," you said, pursing your lips. Hearing his laughter fill the air made your face flush with embarrassment. "One time! It was one time!"
Your protests at his teasing had no effect. Instead, Bob's laughter seemed to increase ten-fold as he doubled over in the bed.
"Bob, stop! It was one time!" you whined now. "You said it wasn't that bad."
His laughter subsided as he began to speak, "I know, I know." There was a silence that lasted for a few seconds until he spoke again, "But it was so funny, Bee." With that, Bob burst out laughing again as you half groaned, half laughed loudly.
From the kitchen, Pam smiled to herself, hearing her son's laughter carry throughout the house.
જ⁀➴
That night, like Pam had promised, Bob's extended family was over. Honestly, Bob was a little worried for you. His family could be a lot, and given that this was the first time he had brought anyone home, he expected everyone to poke and prod at you. But as his family filed into the house, your bright smile had never faltered.
Sometime after dinner but before dessert, Bob had lost you in the crowd of Floyds. He had walked through the house about ten different times at this point, looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Seeing the worried look on his face, his father gently grasped his son's shoulder to gain his attention.
"She's outside," he said lowly. Bob nodded and walked with purpose towards the back porch. His mind racing, thinking of all the possibilities that would've pushed you to escape outside. Were you crying? Was this all too overwhelming? Did someone ask you a rude question? Had you finally gotten sick of him? Sick of this role you were playing?
Right as he was about to push the door open, Bob paused. He saw you outside, but you weren't alone.
Gathered around you in the grassy field was a gaggle of small children, all laughing and smiling. Bob couldn't tell exactly what you were playing with the children, but after one of his younger cousins ran up to you and tapped your hip, he understood immediately. Bob smiled to himself, seeing you take off into a run as all the children screamed joyfully.
"She's sweet. Reminds me of your mother." Bob was snapped out of his trance as his father spoke. "Good job, son," he added, hand coming to clap softly on Bob's back.
Bob felt his heart race watching you. He knew you were perfect, living with you and being best friends had proven it to him. But he had never seen you like this, so carefree and thoughtful. Sure, there were nights when Jake or Bradley would get a bit too carried away at the Hard Deck, and you would be right by their side, taking care of them. But it wasn't even close to this.
Bob saw you chase around the children, never gaining too fast on the younger kids, but still giving the older ones a run for their money. He watched as all the kids gravitated towards you, all of their smiles and laughs being thrown your way. And Bob understood this feeling deeply. He had always felt a pull towards you. It came out in various ways, like always finding your eyes when Coyote would say something outrageous during training. Or bursting out into synchronized laughter whenever Jake would ultimately lose another game of pool to Nat. And his favorite was the way you would find your way over to Bob whenever you were in a large group. You could talk to Jake or joke around with Bradley, but whenever the full Dagger Squad was together on a crowded night at the Hard Deck, you were glued to Bob's side. These moments let him know that you were undeniably in each other's orbit.
Finally, Bob pulled open the door and walked out to you and your new friends.
"Uncle Bob!" one of the children exclaimed. You whipped around, seeing Bob walking up to you with a small smile on his face.
"Thought I lost you in there," he joked. You smiled, not speaking but walking closer to meet him in the middle. He met your kind eyes, but upon looking into them further, he squinted a little at you. Just as he was about to step back, you lunged forward.
"Tag! You're it!" you blurted out, giggling as you sprinted in the opposite direction. The children seemed to follow your example, all shrieking and laughing as Bob took off.
Suddenly, you heard little cries of your name. Turning around, you saw Bob gaining on you. Before you knew it, his hands grasped your waist, picking you up a few inches off the ground, bringing you into his chest.
Tucked close into him now, you felt his breath on the back of your neck. The heaving of his chest against your back had you squirming. "Can't get away that easily," his voice close to your ear. Biting down on your lip, careful to not let the whine out, you felt your tummy flip at the position he had you in.
You had come outside to escape, yes. But not from Bob's never-ending list of uncles or aunts. From him.
During dinner, he had been nothing but kind to you. Caring. Attentive. And it had been like that all day. From when you left the house and went into town with him and his mother, you hadn't as much as blinked before Bob made sure you didn't have to lift a finger. Sure, he had done this to a certain extent back in California, not letting you open the door or always opening glass jars for you when in the kitchen together. But today was a different level.
Pam insisted on getting you a pair of real, genuine cowgirl boots. She marched you into "Jesse's Boots & Shoes" and immediately sat you down on one of the little benches. After gathering what seemed like half the merchandise in the store, she came back to you with stacks of boxes full of different types of boots.
As you began to bend down to untie your shoes, Bob suddenly appeared in front of you. On his knees.
"I got it, don't worry," he said, before delicately unlacing your shoes. His large, warm hand flew up underneath your calf, and the other shimmied off your shoe. Then he looked up with that sweet smile and repeated the whole process on your other foot. You could've sworn you saw Pam snap a picture.
Later in the day, you made it back to the house and were helping Pam fix up some lunch. She handed you a big yellow onion and a kitchen knife, but before you could even take hold of the wooden handle she had outstretched to you, Bob had rushed into your view. Stealing the onion out of your right hand and gently pushing you out of the way of the cutting board, you looked at him incredulously.
"I know how watery your eyes get. I got it, just go sit down," he offered with that same sweet smile.
"I can cut one onion, Bobby," you said, playfully trying to grab the onion from his hand. He just raised his hands above his head, ensuring you wouldn't be able to reach him.
"I got it, Bee. Don't try to argue," he challenged, raising his brows. Huffing, you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that was creeping on your face.
Pam once again snapped a picture. This time, giggling to herself a bit like she knew this was going to happen.
The third time was right before everyone had arrived. You were upstairs, checking your hair one last time and making sure your outfit looked okay, when you noticed you had forgotten to put your necklace on this morning.
After retrieving the delicate piece from the bathroom, Bob had seemingly appeared. Seeing the jewelry in your hand, he walked forward with purpose, holding out his palm. You raised an eyebrow at his actions.
"Seen you do it a million times," he started. "Let me."
You nodded, not trusting your voice once again, dropping the piece into his hand. Softly, his free hand came down to your hip, guiding you to turn around.
Then, you felt his arms go around your shoulders, not touching, but there. It was so quiet in that moment. The only noise you could hear was the creaking of the old house and Bob's soft breathing close to your ear. It was distracting. Maddening, after the day you had.
Clasping the necklace around you, his hands dropped. Turning back around, you were met, once again, by the same sweet smile.
"You look beautiful, Bee," he told you before backing out of the room. "I'll be downstairs whenever you're ready."
Driven outside, you had wanted to sit on the porch for a bit. Think about what this weekend really meant for you. For Bob. For your friendship. But your plans were quickly interrupted after feeling a little tug on your leg and hearing a quiet invitation to a game of tag.
"Robert Floyd, you'd better let go of that girl! We've got apple pie coming out the oven!" Pam's voice drew you back into the heart-racing position you were in. Bob was quick to set you down, smoothing his hands over your hips in an effort to fix the creases in your dress that his hold had caused. But you saw the raging blush that crossed his face and burst out into a fit of giggles, and soon, all of his younger cousins were doing the same thing.
"I think this might be your inside-out jean moment," you teased with a smile, seeing the blush turn to a darker shade.
"Not funny," he said sternly, but you could tell he was trying to hold back a laugh.
"Mm, I recall saying something earlier this morning like that." You grinned at him, walking closer to the house, but your body was still fully facing the man in front of you. "But Bobby, it's so funny!" you laughed, throwing your head back. Bob couldn't help but smile, even if it was at the expense of his own actions.
What neither Bob nor you realized was the crowd of onlookers peaking through the windows, watching as Bob Floyd was struck with a look of love.
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You had been right. The look before the first kiss was the best part of a wedding. Bob doesn't remember the last time he'd seen his older brother so giddy.
You, on the other hand, had missed it completely. Looking at the man who sat next to you instead. You saw the way the corners of Bob's mouth pulled upwards, smiling brightly.
The week had gone smoothly, both of you getting away with touches that were a little more lingering than usual or looks that called for a deeper conversation. To Bob's family, this looked like restraint, manners, and control. To you, this was torture, heartache, and suppression. You didn't know how many more instances of Bob's big hand on the small of your back you had in you before you broke completely. His gentle guidance and care throughout the week had been something that you reveled in. Returning to California, returning to normalcy, it all seemed so distant.
Sipping some champagne, you sat with Bob at the reception. Stringed bulbs lit up the night. Bright colors popped from all of the flowers that seemed to be placed on every table. And sweet music filled the air, inviting everyone to dance.
Bob studied your face under the night sky and limited lighting. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Dread filled his heart, though. The thought of this week just being a glimpse into what life would be like if he got up the courage to ask you to be with him weighed heavily on his heart.
Going to bed with you every night was something Bob didn't even know he was missing, but now he craved it so deeply. Being able to talk to you and share his thoughts with you right before bed. Getting to hear you ramble on, either about your worries or joys, was something he began to love more than anything. The way your voice would begin to taper, become gentle, when you were truly tired and ready for sleep. How you supported your face under your small palm while talking with him in the dark. How your eyes would become glassy and glazed over as you finally hit the pillow. These moments became precious to him.
"All couples! Head to the dance floor now! Tell your partner how much you care about them, and let's dance!" The DJ's voice broke Bob's train of thought. Without thinking, he rose out of his seat and offered you a hand.
Sheepishly, you took it, letting him guide you.
A soft, slow melody filled the air as you began to take your place with Bob. His hands brushed your hips, stiff, like he was in middle school, and it was his first time slow dancing. You chuckled a little under your breath.
"What's got you laughing now?" he asked, soft and sweet. Eyes searching yours with intensity you had only seen from him this week.
You looked at him for a moment and just grinned, like you knew something he didn't.
"Just so stiff, Bobby. Relax," you told him, pushing into his space a little more. Your hands found their way around his shoulders, palms settling on the broad plain of his back. Now, your face met his chest, and you melted into him.
Bob felt the sway of your hips and the light movement of your feet. If it wasn't for you, he would've stood still, not knowing what to do with you like this. Sure, he had danced like this before. But it was never this intimate. This deep. This connected.
At any moment, Bob felt like he was going to let the words spill out of him. Tell you how he was really feeling. It seemed so easy.
The way you interacted with his family. Cooking with his Ma, talking about college sports with his Pa. Even the way you talked with his brother and sister-in-law. Though it was brief, you made an immediate connection. You and his sister-in-law, chatting away like you had grown up together. And he didn't miss the way his older brother shot him a look of surprise, but approval.
But it wasn't just about them. It was also about the way you just fit so well into his life. Sure, you weren't an early riser, and Bob had learned this weekend that you weren't the best with large animals, but he didn't mind. If being with you meant slow mornings where you would coax him back to bed, hands grasping for him to come lie with you beneath the sheets, he'd be okay with that. More than okay. And if the biggest animal you owned was a chocolate lab, that would be okay by him, too.
Slowly, his large hands came around your waist, more secure and grounded. And Bob closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. Taking in this moment with you was the most important thing to him.
You danced under the twinkling lights and stars, no concern for the people around you. No concern that this was fake, that it was all pretend. Because right now, it felt real.
Hearing the thump of Bob's heart calmed you. It was grounding you, just like the gentle guitar in the background. You swayed like that for a while, but eventually the pounding of his heart and the steadiness of his figure became all too much. While the music swelled, so did your chest. Heaving up and down at a much more rapid pace.
Bob, feeling the sudden shift in your energy, pulled back, but just slightly. Still close enough to hear the hitch in your breath, to see the quiver of your bottom lip.
Your eyes blinked rapidly. Looking up at Bob seemed like an impossible task. But with a gentle touch to your chin, you did.
"Bee?" he asked softly. Concern written across his face.
"I'm sorry," you said, even quieter. With slow moments, you pressed your lips to his.
Your lips were softer than he imagined. The way your lips slotted between his was like second nature. And before you could pull back, he learned in deeper. Taking the hand that was under your chin and pressing it into the back of your head. Meeting you in the kiss, he pressed closer to you, and you felt the strong hold he had on your hip.
Bob wanted so badly to lick into your mouth, to mix your spit. But he restrained himself upon feeling the slight jump below his waist.
The solid kiss made your tummy turn in a way you didn't think was possible. Something deeper took hold of you as you melted, once again, into the man in front of you. The heaving of your chest was still present, but now it was fueled by want rather than anxiety.
Pulling away slowly, your breathing was heavy. Your eyes searched his, trying to see what he was thinking. What would his reaction to your impulsivity be?
Before your question could be answered, you were being pulled by one of Bob's cousins, urging you to go line up for the bouquet toss.
Bob watched as you were ripped away from him. His hand came up to grab onto you, but his fingers slipped against the fabric of your dress. Your eyes widen, head whipping around to look at him. But just as quick, you broke your gaze.
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As soon as the door to the guest bedroom clicked shut, you immediately began apologizing.
"Bobby, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, and I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking," you said, hands coming up to your face in an attempt to hide from him.
"Bee," Bob tried to cut in, but you could barely hear him over the sound of your racing heart and rambling words."
"I didn't mean to ruin this. Ruin this weekend and make you feel uncomfortable. Ruin what we have. Our friendship," you kept going, stomach now turning at the thought of losing Bob from your life.
"Bee," he started again, but still you weren't hearing a thing he said.
Your hands now rubbed nervously down your dress, like you were trying to wipe off what had happened earlier that night. "I'm gonna go take my stuff and sleep in the bathroom or something. You don't have to share a bed with me tonight. And if you want me to move out, I will. I'm sorry, I just, I don't know-"
"Bee!" Bob's voice startled you into silence. He stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands, trying to quell your nervous energy.
Bob's hand closed around your wrists. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you looked at your best friend.
"Tonight," he started, hand rubbing softly against yours. "What did the kiss mean?"
He took a deep breath as you just stared at him.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you said, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
"I'm not mad, and I'm not uncomfortable. I just," he took another deep breath before continuing. "I just want to know what it meant to you. Why you did it."
A tear slipped down your cheek at his soft-spoken words.
"I love you," you said quietly as more tears fell from your eyes. "I kissed you because I love you. Because I'm in love with you. I'm sorry, Bobby."
You felt your world crumbling around you. Years of friendship, laughter, and good memories all seemed to blur past you. Surely, when you got back to California, Bob would ask you to move out. The thought made you sick to your stomach.
Bob stared at you, silent. He felt like he was dreaming. All week, he had been trying to tell you how he felt. Been trying to get the words out. And here you were, saying everything he was thinking.
His hands quickly came up to your face, wiping the tears away. You couldn't look at him, eyes closed and body closing in on itself.
"Bee, will you open your eyes, please. I just want to talk to you," Bob pleaded. "I need to tell you something. Need you to look at me."
You shook your head, starting to feel like everything was all too much. Of course, he was still being sweet to you. After everything, after all of what you said and did. The thought made more tears come to your eyes.
"Please, please look at me," he asked again, thumbs now stroking your cheeks. Bob could see the internal debate you were having as your lips pushed deeper into a pout.
But after a few seconds, you opened your eyes. Blinking away the last bit of tears, you tried to look at the man in front of you.
As soon as your eyes met his, Bob smiled at you sweetly. "I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. And I'm sorry about this week. I should've told you how I was feeling, but I thought everything would go okay. That we could just go back to being normal after all this."
Your shoulders relaxed with his admission, your mouth opening just a bit to look at Bob in awe.
"But we can't," you said, voice still small. It made Bob's heart ache thinking about all that you were feeling this week, knowing he was feeling the same way.
"No, I don't think we can." His eyes dropped to your lips for a split second. If you weren't watching him so closely, you would've missed it.
Something in your stomach turned at the thought of kissing him again. Your chest began to rise and fall much like it had earlier.
Still holding your face in his hands, Bob leaned in slowly. Slow enough to let you pull away if this was something you didn't want. Slow enough that seconds felt like minutes.
Finally, your lips met for the second time that night. Less rushed than before and softer. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.
The kiss was sweet. Bob's heart was racing out of his chest, having you like this. He was content letting your lips brush up against each other in a soft manner. But each time you kissed, he got hungrier. It wasn't until you let a soft sound slip past your lips and into his that he pressed into you harder.
Suddenly, Bob was walking you backwards into the bed. You felt one of his hands leave your face and come down to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him.
"This okay?" he asked breathlessly as you nodded, not trusting your voice.
With that, Bob got to work on the zipper at the back of your dress. He felt your hands in his hair, on his arms, pulling him in closer. Finally, the dress dropped and you let it fall to the floor.
Bob's eyes scanned your body. Wearing the prettiest set of black lace underwear and a matching bra, he felt his stomach turn. You were perfect.
Quickly, his hands were all over your body as you fell back with him on the bed. Feeling his hard length grind down on your barely clad heat had you biting down on your lip. Bob worked his mouth against your neck, looking for the spot that would make you moan against him. His licking and biting made your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him even closer if possible.
"Please, Bobby. Need you," you whispered. His head shot up to take you in. Your eyes were blinking quickly, like you were struggling to keep them open. Your mouth parted slightly, like you couldn't take deep enough breaths. Your hair splayed out around you, like you were an angel come down from heaven.
"Want me to touch you?" Bob asked as you whined, head nodding. "Gonna have to be quiet for me, okay? I wanna help you."
"Okay, I'll be good. Promise," you said, eyes searching his. Waiting for his movements to change. Waiting for him to help you feel good.
His hands moved from your hips down to your heat. Only one hand cupping it at first, while the other worked at the back of your bra. Pushing into your underwear, Bob's big hand began to feel you everywhere. His thumb quickly found your clit, and you thought you were seeing stars as he rubbed it softly.
You felt the tightness of your bra loosen, and Bob's other hand quickly moved to take it off you completely. Seconds after, his mouth came down to your pebbled nipple, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it into his mouth.
Your jaw dropped at the feeling. His kisses and ministrations made your hips jump up into his hand. "Need more, wanna feel your fingers," you said softly, trying to keep your promise to him.
Popping his lips from your tits, Bob looked at you with darkened eyes. "Being so good for me. I can feel you, so wet for me," he praised you, but still, his hand made no effort to move further into your heat.
Your brows furrowed at this, and you propped yourself up to look at the man lying above you. "Bobby, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek sweetly.
There was no way he could resist you when you asked so sweetly. His hand made its way towards your opening, stretching your underwear a bit. Bob played with you a bit more, and you whined into the pillow next to you.
"Sorry, honey," he whispered into your ear. "Just love your little pussy so much."
Your jaw dropped at his dirty words and at the feeling of two of his fingers stretching out your heat. They felt so thick, and Bob knew exactly what he was doing, moving them with expert precision. Pushing in slow and deep, reaching your spot almost immediately, your back arched off the bed into his touch.
Bob watched as you crumbled at his touch. It had to be a dream. The way your tits heaved up and down made him dizzy. Your face, now driven into the pillow next to you, silencing your noises, made his cock jump from beneath his trousers. You lying on the bed, almost completely naked, and he still fully dressed, made him bite down on his lip hard.
He was trying to take his time with you. Be gentle. Get to know your body. But every noise that escaped you and every look of longing you shot him made his resolve crumble. He could spend hours like this, with you at his disposal to play with. But sweat beaded down his forehead in restraint. Bob had to know what your tight pussy felt like around his cock.
A hand on his bicep pulled Bob from his thoughts. He felt your pussy clench up at his fingers, and he instantly moved his thumb back up to your clit. The reaction was immediate. Your body curling off the body and into him, Bob leaned into you, taking one of your tits into his mouth again, sucking harshly this time.
"Oh, fuck," you whispered as your orgasm ran through you. You never knew your orgasms could be so intense, but with Bob's constant attention to your body, you had never felt better.
Delicately, he pulled his fingers from your entrance and leaned down to kiss you sweetly.
"You're so beautiful," Bob said breathlessly. Then he brought his fingers up to his mouth, and you felt your pussy throb all over again at the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers. "Taste so good, too," he said, popping his fingers from his mouth. "Can I taste you?"
You nodded, but apparently, this wasn't enough for him anymore.
"Wanna hear you," Bob spoke softly. "Killing me, not being able to hear all your cute noises."
"Sorry," you said bashfully. "Yes, please."
"Don't gotta say sorry. Doing so good for me, my beautiful girl." Bob leaned in to kiss you again, making you feel his want and warmth as he licked into your mouth. His mouth traveled down your body, stopping to suck dark marks into your throat and all over your tits. But you didn't stop him, not really caring about how you would cover them up in the morning. His nips and licks were much more convincing than anything your brain told you.
Finally making his way down to your heat, Bob pushed your underwear to the side. Licking a broad stripe with his flat tongue, he tried to feel all of you. Your thighs worked to close around him, but his strong hands came up to grip them just hard enough to remind you of his strength, but not hard enough to hurt you. Continuing, he kissed all over your heat, much like he had just licked into your mouth. The movements made you dizzy.
Focusing on your clit, you felt one of his hands leave your thigh and dive into your heat again.
"Bobby," you whined. Quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, remembering what you had promised him. He looked up at you, chuckling a bit at your movements. But the vibrations against your heat only made you squirm and cry out more.
Removing his mouth from your heat, he kissed your thighs sweetly.
"Need me to help you, honey?" he asked, voice low and eyes dark as they looked at you.
"Mhm, please," you whispered, still moving your hips against his fingers.
He smiled at your movements. "So needy," he whispered more to himself than anything. "Didn't think you'd be that way."
Your tummy flipped at his admission. Even if he hadn't explicitly said it, just thinking about Bob touching himself to the thought of you made your pulse race like crazy.
Pulling your underwear away from your heat, Bob tossed them across the room. His hands now moved to your waist, picking you up effortlessly, flipping you on your tummy softly.
Your neck craned back, a puzzled look on your face. But he was already meeting you half way, coming up to kiss you again and ask a question.
"This okay, honey?" Bob asked, one hand coming to raise your hips. Another guided a pillow beneath them. Your stomach turned at the thought of what he was about to do.
"Yeah, it's okay," you whispered. He smiled at this, placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. But soon, his hand was pushing your head into the pillow, tucking your hair behind your ears, making sure you were comfortable. But still, his hand came down to guide you into the plush surface beneath you.
Not seeing Bob and only feeling him was something you never thought you would love. But the way his hands dragged down your body, fingers toying with your body, and firmly kneading your ass made your breathing sharp and shallow. Bob made his way down to your heat once more, licks more confident and sure now.
Sure enough, you whined into the pillow underneath you, pushing your hips back into Bob as he continued to work at your entrance. His tongue pushed in and out of you, sucking harshly. Hands spreading your ass, allowing him to kiss you better, get deeper.
It was quick for you to feel the familiar tug in your tummy return, ready to snap at any moment. Snaking a hand under your tummy and to your clit, Bob worked diligently to make you feel good, rubbing tight, small circles.
Your hand flew back, trying to grasp at anything you could. Your fingers found his golden locks, and you gripped them tightly as you came for the second time that night.
After a few last licks, Bob kissed up your back, letting his body sink into you a bit. It wasn't until his kisses reached your neck that you felt his hard length straining against your ass.
"So good, honey," he whispered, placing sweet kisses against your hair once more. "Gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?"
Soon, he moved to shift off the bed. But you shot up, grabbing his forearm.
"What's wrong?" Bob asked, concern evident on his face as he looked at you. He wondered if it had been too much. He had indulged a little bit, but he thought that you were feeling good. Or maybe he was pulling away too soon, maybe you wanted to cuddle a bit more before he got up. But what you said next made his heart jump.
"Wanna feel you. Do you not want to?" you spoke softly, forehead creasing in on itself.
Bob smiled at your question, coming back into your space, pressing his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss, too. Something about them was so sweet and gentle, but so deep and longing at the same time.
"Course I do, just didn't want to push anything," he spoke, pulling away a bit. "And, I don't have anything here. I didn't bring any condoms," Bob whispered the last bit, like it was a secret.
"I'm clean and on birth control," you offered with a small smile that Bob swore would be the death of him.
"Me too," he said, immediately backtracking at the sound of your giggles. "I mean clean. No birth control."
Your smile grew wider at his words. Even when Bob didn't mean to, he made you laugh, always making you feel good.
"Can I see you? Think it's a little unfair you're still dressed," you teased him. Even with the faint glow of the moon and the soft bedside lamp, you were able to see the way Bob's ears turned pink.
Without a word, he began to unbutton his shirt. Scooching toward him on the bed, your hands made quick work of his belt, button, and zipper. Bob would've laughed at your eagerness if he weren't feeling the exact same way. Kicking off his pants and underwear and whipping the shirt off over his head, Bob stood before. Your tongue peeked out a bit at the sight of him.
His abs are sculpted and molded to perfection; you were able to gawk at them more openly now than a few nights ago. As your eyes traveled further, you saw his V-line, prominent and defined. And his length stood proud in front of you. Chills ran down your spine at the thought of taking all of him. You leaned down, falling on your elbows before him. Kissing his pink tip, your tongue began to kitten lick at his head.
Bob groaned audibly at the sight in front of him. Your ass up, mouth working against his length, and eyes looking up at him for approval. This wasn't real, surely. Any minute now, he would wake up in bed, spoiled underwear once again. But as you moved to take his length further in your mouth, Bob couldn't deny what he was feeling.
Knowing that if you sucked his length much longer, he wouldn't last, Bob softly grasped your head in his hands, moving you away from his length and instead onto the bed like you once were.
Lying back on the bed, you watched as Bob moved over your body. Settling on top of you, you found yourself face-to-face with him. Smiling at him, your eyes met, and you couldn't help but laugh a bit to yourself.
"What's got you so happy?" Bob asked, leaning down to kiss your neck as you let the giggles flow freely. He smiled at you, the kisses sweet rather than searing like they were before.
"I just love you," you whispered. Bob's head shot up, dopey grin now on his face.
"I love you," he whispered back. Leaning down to kiss you again, you thought about how you would never get used to this. Just a few hours ago, you were anxiety-ridden with thoughts of losing your best friend to a dumb mistake. Now, all your nerves were still on fire, but for a different reason. Bob's lips worked against yours until you felt your tummy flip again, and it seemed he felt the same way; one of his hands moved down to grip his length. Guiding himself to your heat, you felt Bob shudder in your embrace, but his lips never left yours.
Bob groaned against your lips as he pushed into you. Only a few inches at first, seeing the way your body would react to him. Your chest heaved, and your eyes screwed shut at the unfamiliar feeling. But your hands pawed at his chest and back, trying to bring him closer to you.
"Doing okay, honey? Feel good?" Bob asked, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.
You whinnied a little as you answered, "Feels good. So good. You're so big."
"You can take it, can't you, honey?" Bob asked, pushing a bit more into you as your jaw dropped at the feeling. He was now kissing up and down your throat again, unable to keep himself away from your soft, dewy skin for too long.
The man felt you pulsed around him. Your heat seemingly needing more from him. Before Bob could ask, you spoke in a breathless whisper.
"More, please. I can take it."
With that, he pushed into you fully. Balls settling against your ass, pelvis meeting yours. His arms came around under your back, bringing you tight into his embrace. Bob made sure to hold onto you, made sure he was taking care of you.
When he started moving, it was filthy. The sounds couldn't be masked as he moved in and out of your heat at a steady pace, deep enough to be hitting your spot in just the right way. Your bodies began to sweat and shine under the soft bedroom light.
You tried biting down on your lip, tried to not let the sounds escape you, but it was no use. The way that Bob moved above you drew out soft, airy noises. Bob saw that you struggled to control yourself and fully feel pleasure, so he took matters into his own hands.
Placing a large hand over your mouth, Bob met your eyes. They shot wide open at first, maybe a flicker of embarrassment, but soon they became droopy again as you focused more on his thrusts into you.
"It's okay, honey," he leaned down to talk near your ear. "Know it feels good. Just gonna help you a little."
You nodded at his words, clenching around his length again. Your moans were now muffled behind his big hand. The feeling of Bob asserting himself over you made you dizzy. You knew he was confident and could take charge if need be, but this was something else. Bob worked with precision, seemingly adjusting to your every move. It wasn't long until his other hand left its spot on your hip and made its way down to your heat once more, circling your clit in what you now learned was your favorite way. His big thumb moved in tandem with his thrusts, and you opened your eyes to look at the man above you.
Bob, seeing the way your eyes glossed over, kissed your lips, briefly moving his hand before placing it back and speaking, "It's okay, I got you. Wanna feel you cum around me."
With that, the knot in your tummy unraveled. Shaking against Bob, you pushed your body as close to his as possible. Still working into you, Bob felt the way you squeezed his length and couldn't hold back anymore, coming to his high with you.
Slowly, Bob moved his hand from your mouth and instead stroked your hair, placing a kiss on your hairline. You smiled at his actions, despite being exhausted from your rigorous activities.
"I love you," Bob told you. He watched as you relaxed against the bed, shifting slightly to hold you better.
"I love you, Bobby. Thank you for inviting me this week," you said sweetly, sharing another kiss with him as he was still nestled inside you, neither of you moving to get up just yet.
He smiled at your words. Thinking back to this week and all that had happened, Bob was grateful you were by his side. From his rambunctious family to the quietness of rural Montana, you fit in perfectly. Bob couldn't wait to bring you back, properly this time.
જ⁀➴
Like always, you and Bob went along with the squad's outstanding Saturday night plans at the Hard Deck, not caring that you had just gotten back to California a few hours prior. Jake grinned at the sight of you walking into the Hard Deck, hand in hand with Bob. He watched as Bob carefully guided you through the crowd of people, delicately holding onto your waist and shielding you from the rowdy patrons.
"Well, well, well," Jake teased as soon as you had both made your way over to the pool table full of aviators. "Looks like my plan worked."
Bob's brows furrowed at this, immediately looking to you.
"No way, Bagman, you aren't getting the credit for this," Phoenix chimed in, abandoning the game of pool.
Now it was your turn to look at Bob with confusion on your face.
"I was the one who sold Bee about the parents thing," Jake argued. You felt your face flush at his admission of your white lie.
"Well, I was the one hyping Bob up for weeks about getting her to come," Phoenix fought back. Bob closed his eyes, not thinking he could survive the look of amusement on your face.
Suddenly, both of your pilots turned to you.
"So who did it?" Phoenix asked. Both you and Bob looked at each other, puzzled.
"Oh come on," Jake said exasperatedly. "You know what were talking about. Who made the first move?"
The squad was silent, watching both you and Bob under a microscope, it seemed. A slight tilt of Bob's head in your direction made Jake cry out triumphantly, pumping his fists into the air.
"I knew it! I knew it! Suck it, Phoenix," Jake whooped as onlookers watched with amusement at his antics.
"Knew it?" Bob asked, almost scared for the answer.
Jake grinned at the both of you. "Yup!" he said, popping the ending syllable in a way that made Nat's eye roll even farther back into her head. "I knew Bee would make the first move. She's gutsy! No offense, Baby on Board."
"Jake," you chastised, but knew the nickname was all in good fun now.
"Where's my twenty dollars? My wallet seems to be missing something," Jake faux-questioned, turning his attention to Phoenix.
Digging into her back pocket and sifting through her wallet, she slapped a crisp twenty-dollar bill into Jake's outstretched hand with a groan. Jake almost giggled in delight, a sound you had only heard come out of him once or twice.
"I just want to say," he started, raising his glass to the group, "that I, Jake Seresin, best pilot among us, was instrumental in ending our suffering. That is, watching these two dance around each other forever like little lovesick puppies."
The group groaned at his statement, but raised their drinks nonetheless. You giggled into Bob's shoulder, and he smiled widely at the sound. His eyes found yours and saw a playful look on your face. Before he knew it, you leaned into his space, pressing your lips to his.
The group watched as he melted into your touch, half-cheering and half-whistling.
Pulling away slightly, you smiled at the man next to you. Bob's cheeks were now dusted with pink, but he still wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you close into his hold.
thank you thank you thank you for 1k notes!!! i am finishing up finals this week and will be back to writing every week if i can! send in requests and ill work on them as soon as i am able to! 😇 thank you all again for supporting me and helping me get back into writing here ❤️
summary: leading a double life wasn't easy. your heightened senses did seem to make everything a little clearer. well that was until they didn't.
warnings: bad guys, superhero violence (guns), heights, yearningggg (clark is a lovergirl) and pure fluff! - no use of y/n
word count: 5.9k
a/n: really living out my marvel/spidey girl dreams in this one. also i hope my dcu knowledge is okay, kind of just pulled from my love of cw's the flash (i love u grant gustin). hoping to make this more of a little mini series, so here is the first part! enjoy!
masterlist
Clark stirred his morning coffee, adding just the right amount of sugar and cream. He wondered if he should start you a cup or if you would come in with a fancy new drink from that place down the street you've been trying out this month. Despite knowing how you took your coffee, Clark still hadn't managed to have a normal conversation with you, even though you had been working at the Daily Planet for five months.
Ever since you started, Clark had been nothing but flustered and stuttering anytime you came into his atmosphere. Instead of looking at him with wide eyes or backing away slowly from the conversation, you just smiled at him, kindness in your gaze. It made Clark even more nervous.
"I got it!" you exclaimed, power walking into the bullpen. Heads turned in your direction. Even though you were new and most people would shrink in on themselves at all the attention you were getting, you had instead built a reputation around your outgoing personality. "Jimmy, I got it."
You slammed a picture onto the man's desk with a wide grin on your face.
"No fucking way," Jimmy said, brows furrowed in disbelief as he rose from his seat and picked up the photo.
Clark honed in on your conversation from the kitchenette nearby. Thank goodness for super hearing.
"I know!" You were practically jumping for joy at this point, and Clark had to bite back a grin as he faux sipped his coffee.
"How the hell did you get this?" Jimmy asked you, still not tearing his eyes away from the photograph.
"I don't know! I don't know!" you exclaimed. Not able to contain your excitement anymore, you gripped Jimmy's forearms and shook him and squealed. Clark wondered what you could be showing Jimmy that had you this ecstatic.
The sound of heavy footsteps seemed to be missed by you and Jimmy, but Clark watched as Perry approached you two with a stern look on his face. "What's going on here? People are working," Perry's voice was firm, but had a hint of curiosity.
You snatched the paper from Jimmy's grasp and presented it to your boss, a grin never leaving your face.
Everyone watched now. It was rare to see Perry in a good mood, and what you showed him would determine if the entire office would suffer from his grumpiness.
"Holy shit," Perry spoke, mouth dropping open just a bit in awe. "When did you take this?"
"Last night! During the attack near Fourth and Bellemont," you stated happily. But Clark's smile quickly dropped. That's where he was last night. Where Superman was.
Perry looked around the room, searching for a certain pair of eyes. "Kent!" he boomed out, pointing at Clark as he choked on his coffee. Hurrying over to the man, Clark quickly wiped the dribbles of liquid from his chin. Great, just another embarrassing moment for you to witness.
"This is going to be your front page cover for tomorrow's paper. I need that story on Superman by the end of the day," Perry said, showing Clark the photo you had been passing around.
When Clark looked at the picture, he had to admit that it was great. It was him, flying high above the city, cape flapping victoriously in the wind, zoomed out enough to see the villains he had defeated but close enough to catch the stoic look on his face. The angle seemed almost impossible, like you had scaled a building just to get the shot.
"Holy moly," Clark spoke.
"I know, right? I could die happy right now. That's the best picture I've ever taken." You smiled widely at Clark, hands coming up into little fists as you pumped them up and down in the air. He chuckled at your antics, never shy around him or anyone else.
"How do you even get a shot like that?" Jimmy questioned. "I've been trying to take pictures of Superman for years and never gotten one like that."
Perry, Jimmy, and Clark all looked at you, waiting for your answer.
"Right place, right time, I guess," you said with a small smile.
"More like perfect place, perfect time," Jimmy scoffed. "Does Superman owe you a favor or something?"
You laughed at this. "Gosh, no. Never spoken to him, actually. Unlike Clark and Superman, we've got a strictly professional relationship." You wiggled your brows in Clark's direction as his cheeks turned pink.
"Not this again," Clark grumbled, hand coming to drag down his face.
Just as you and Jimmy were about to pounce, Perry chimed in, "Alright, alright. Get back to work." Taking the pictures, Perry pushed it into Clark's chest. "End of the day, Kent."
"Yes, sir," Clark politely said as Perry trudged back to his office.
By the time the office door shut, Lois and Cat were gathered around you. "Lemme see," Lois said, snatching the picture from Clark's grasp as you giggled at her antics.
"Oh, wow. This is really good," Cat spoke in awe. You could now feel your cheeks burning under the watch of all your friends. "I say we go out and celebrate tonight," she slipped in casually.
This caused an array of responses from your group. Jimmy whooping, cupping his hands to his mouth. Lois grimacing, probably thinking about the last night you had all gone out and ended up leaving the bar in a hurry after Cat had basically gotten free drinks from about half the patrons. You 'oohed' at the idea, not really a big drinker, but Clark knew you liked to celebrate and make memories more than anything. And Clark, who shrugged his shoulders, like he didn't have anything better to do tonight.
"O'Malley's it is!" Cat announced, clapping her hands together in light applause.
Soon, the group departed, leaving just you and Clark in the middle of the bullpen. Clark looked to you, then looked away. Internally debating whether he should congratulate you on your picture-taking skills or if he should save it for tonight.
But, before he could get the words out, you spoke, "Got a little something there, Kent." Your manicured finger came up to the right side of your own chin. When Clark reached up, he felt the now cold and wet coffee that he had apparently missed.
Walking to your desk, you winked at him, shooting him a playful smile. Oh golly, he was in for it.
જ⁀➴
As you swung through the streets of Metropolis, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You had been at this gig, this superhero thing, for around 2 years now. First in Central City and now in Metropolis. You had to admit you did miss the meta-based problems of your hometown; fighting aliens and creatures wasn't something you were used to at first, but as you swung around the new city more and more, you became accustomed to the unearthly problems at the end of dark street corners.
It had been a quiet night, a quiet week, ever since Superman took down the big bad on Monday night. But it wasn't likely to stay quiet for long.
Before the sound of a large crash, your body was automatically drawn to Centennial Park. Sure enough, from the rooftops, you saw Atomic Skull wreaking havoc throughout the park, releasing blasts of energy into any tree or boulder that stood in his way. It wasn't long before Superman made his way onto the scene, facing Atomic Skull.
You swung your camera up to your face, pulling your mask over your head slightly to see the scene and lighting better. Snapping a few pictures seemed harmless. Your growing collection of rooftop shots of Superman was quickly growing, and you kept them to yourself for the most part. But the picture you took on Monday was too perfect to keep hidden.
As the park became more and more torn up, a crowd of civilians had half formed and half ran in terror. You couldn't blame them; you did the same thing, just from a different height. But you watched as Superman kept turning his back, trying to make sure everyone was safe.
Superman began to stagger a bit. It was mostly unnoticeable, but your keen senses caught it immediately. His punches lacked in power, and his footing wasn't as sure as it had been ten minutes ago.
After a large burst of energy, Superman was pushed back, spine cracking against a tree. You put your camera down, watching the scene unfold, wondering what to do.
You hadn't fought any crime while in Metropolis. Superman and the Justice Gang had a capital on all the ugly personalities that came storming through the city. And if anyone in your personal life made the connection that you and Spider-Girl had shown up around the same time, it would be hard to explain.
Only your best friend, Mary Jane, knows about your secret identity, seeing as she was with you during the particle accelerator explosion. But to everyone else, you were just a photographer. Just someone who fit in with the crowd.
You didn't know how long you could stick to the sidelines. Seeing Superman get thrown into the ground, dirt and grass kicked up around his large form, was your breaking point. Webbing your camera to the building and pulling down your mask, you swung down, careful not to attract the Atomic Skull's attention.
Coming from behind, you launched onto the villain. Kicking his back, making sure it would take a few seconds to get back up again.
Citizens gasped at your arrival. "It's Spider-Girl!" You heard one of them exclaim as you swung past them.
Quickly thwiping a web at the back of Atomic Skull's head, you pulled him from the ground and swung him into the air. The crowd's breath caught. You heard Superman, too, but to quell everyone's fears, you shot out a few more webs, all attaching themselves to Atomic Skull's limbs and the tall trees in the park.
Flying through the air, Superman came to deliver the final blow, knocking the Atomic Skull out and sending everyone into a fit of cheers.
Sticking to the side of a brick and cobblestone building, you hummed to yourself at the citizens, all snapping pictures of you. No hiding anymore.
Snapping your head to the side, Superman appeared. Up close, he was something to marvel at. Hair, windswept but still put together. Cheeks, flushed with a touch of dirt. And eyes, shiny and somewhat familiar.
Clark.
Your heart raced as you put the pieces together.
"I don't think we've met," he stated, hand reaching out to yours.
You took it in your grasp, still blinking to yourself at the revelation. "No," you said breathlessly. "I don't think we have."
"Superman," he offered, a small smile on his face.
"Spider-Girl," you gave back, voice shakier than it had ever been talking to Clark.
He cleared his throat, hand lingering in yours for a few seconds too long. "Thanks for the save."
You nodded and smiled, but quickly realized he couldn't see your face under your mask. "Yeah, of course. We make a good team."
Why did you say that? God, now Superman is going to know you have a crush on him, well, him and his counterpart.
But instead of flying away from you, you heard laughter instead. Kind and unguarded. Something you could never really get from Clark. The thought made your heart pound.
"Yeah, guess we do," Superman spoke softly, like he was trying to keep this moment between just the two of you even though hundreds of civilians were snapping pictures and videos of your every move.
You were almost jealous of the good angles they were getting. Maybe some of them captured you leaning into Superman. Maybe some of them caught the way he smiled and laughed at your cheesy joke. Maybe they caught the way his hand lingered after he shook yours. But they all captured the start of something new and sweet.
જ⁀➴
Clark walked into the Daily Planet the next day with a floaty feeling. He wasn’t sure what it was, but meeting Spider-Girl last night was different than interacting with any other superhero he had met before. The feeling of her gloved hand in his last night still lingered from last night, leaving a tingling feeling that warmed up his whole body.
After arriving home later last night, he watched almost every video that the internet had about you. He saw the way you swung into action with no fear. The way you webbed together buildings and structures to save the city. Clark had to admit that he paused that particular video once or twice. Your arms looked defined and strong underneath your suit, something that had Clark a bit breathless. He even found a video of you swinging from a burning building with a small child, holding them close to you and gently wiping the tears from their eyes once you reached the street.
Clark was enamored.
“What’s got you so happy?” Lois questioned, seeing the dopey grin on his face.
Clark’s cheeks flushed. “What? Nothing,” he said, not dropping the smile from his face.
“Sure, Kent,” she muttered into her coffee, turning back to her work.
Like he had sensed you, Clark’s head shot in your direction as you walked into the bullpen. Smile still on his face, his eyes met yours. But instead of the normal kind look you would shoot his way, your eyes widened, and you tripped over your own feet.
He could hear Jimmy chuckling as you walked over to your desk, teasing you for your clumsiness. You grumbled a bit more than usual. But Clark chalked it up to a bad night's sleep or a rough morning commute.
But as the week continued, Clark couldn’t help but notice your odd behavior. You would chat with Lois in the copy room and even talk about college basketball with Steve, but as soon as Clark even opened his mouth, you darted towards the nearest exit.
Did he do something wrong? Clark recalled all your interactions last week and found nothing that stood out. So, what had you acting this way?
After it hit the three-week mark of you actively avoiding Clark, he had to do something.
Placing a to-go bag on your desk, Clark watched as you looked up to him. It was the first time in what felt like forever that you met his eyes.
“Saw you didn’t have lunch in the fridge,” he offered, awkwardly swinging on the balls of his feet as you said nothing.
He could hear your heart pounding, something that had never happened any of the other times you had casual interactions with him.
“It’s from the Thai place just down the street. Jimmy said you liked to go there after work sometimes,” Clark started again, feeling nervous under your gaze.
Just as he was about to turn around and go back to his desk, he heard you squeak out, “Thank you, Clark.”
If it wasn’t for his super hearing, he’s sure he would’ve missed it. So instead of sulking, a bright grin found its way to his face. Hearing your voice again, directed towards him, made him feel on top of the world.
“Of course! I hope I got your order right. If not, I can run back and get something else,” he told you with full sincerity. A small smile found its way to your face at this, and Clark reveled in the moment.
“I’m sure whatever you got will be great. Thank you,” you spoke softly, breaking eye contact now.
Clark hummed, nodding his head up and down, a big smile still on his face. Hearing your heartbeat start to slow, he turned back to walk over to his desk, letting out a small sigh.
He hoped whatever was happening between the two of you would go back to normal soon. He missed the way you would teasingly poke his sides as you moved through the kitchenette in the office. He missed the way you would grab his mail for him every morning, always placing the stack on his desk with a wink. He missed the way your eyes would meet his when Jimmy said something outrageous. Now, he watched as you tried to contain your reactions instead.
The entire rest of the week, Clark watched you. You sent him a few more small smiles, made a little bit more eye contact. But it was nothing like it was before.
And what drove Clark up the wall is that he had no idea what had caused this sudden shift. He thought about asking you, but every time he thought he had the courage, he chickened out.
All the writers and photographers for this week's paper crowded into the packed conference room. Like always, you came in 2 minutes before Perry could start. Clark watched as you scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. Locking eyes with him, Clark gestured you over. Sure enough, he had expected this and saved you a seat right next to him.
"Saved it for you," he said softly as he moved his jacket off the seat.
You sent him a small smile of appreciation and a quick thank you.
At least it was something. But not even a month ago, you would've squeezed his arm, saying how sweet he was while shooting him a large grin.
Clark resigned to watching your mundane actions. His eyes followed as your pen glided across your paper, your handwriting the perfect mix of messy and neat. He watched as you tucked pieces of your hair behind your ears, framing your perfect face. He licked his own lips as you mouthed the important dates that Perry called out; your own lips looked so puffy and soft. Clark wondered what they would feel like against his.
Perry dismissed everyone, and just as you were about to rush out with the crowd, Clark's large hand grasped your wrist. "Can I," he started, stumbling over his words a bit as you looked at him with wide eyes. "Can we talk?"
"Yeah, Clark. Are you okay?" you asked in the now-empty room. Concern painted across your features as all your attention was finally on him.
Clark sighed, but still had a small smile on his face. "I just was wondering if," he cleared his throat awkwardly. The words seemed to be trapped. "Um, if you were coming out tonight? To O'Malley's?"
"Oh," your breath hitched at his questions, like it wasn't what you were expecting. "I'm a little busy tonight, actually. I'm sorry," you said, taking your hand back and turning around and out of the conference room. He felt like you took his heart as you left.
જ⁀➴
You hung upside down, watching the sun set. Gosh, you felt horrible avoiding Clark like this. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like a lifetime of watching his sad puppy eyes track your figure in the office.
But ever since you found out he was Superman, you haven't been able to look at him the same. Sure, you worked with other superheroes before, but no one knew your real identity. Being so close to Clark, you were worried about him catching on, finding out who you really were.
You knew how dangerous that could be for both of you. Thinking back about the first year you had your power, your heart still clenched at the thought of Doc Ock coming to your apartment and taking Mary Jane as leverage in the sick game he was playing with you.
You remember her face. How scared she looked. How she cried out for you. How she had gotten hurt.
You remember how reckless you had been. How stupid. How naive. You vowed to never let something like that happen again, keeping your identity under lock and key, even from other heroes.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and suddenly you felt a gush of wind as Superman appeared right next to you.
"Hi, Spider-Girl," he said with a smile.
"Hi, Superman," you replied, heart feeling heavy, finally getting to talk with Clark, even if he didn't know it was you.
He had been so sweet to you. Well, he always was. You knew he was a little shy, but he still made an effort to smile and talk with you almost every day in the office. You remember your first week when you couldn't figure out how to get the copier to work. He had sheepishly come over to you, with blushing cheeks, and barely said more than three words unless it was about the machine in front of you.
Sure enough, he got the thing to work, handing you your papers with a soft look in his eyes.
"I hope you know that I'll be coming to you any time I have issues with the copier now," you joked, watching the flush on his cheeks deepen even more.
"I've got no problem with that," he spoke softly, shrugging his shoulders.
And when you interacted on a night out, he always seemed to hover near you, looking out for you.
"Where are you going?" he questioned as you put your drink down and made your way out of the booth.
"Bathroom, just wanna wash my hands. Feeling sticky," you told him, scrunching your nose.
Clark nodded, but you could feel his eyes watching your every move. It was only when you returned to the table that he seemed to calm down.
Getting up again later that night, Clark shot you a questioning look. You shook your empty glass at him and looked towards the bar. He looked as if he was about to join you when Jimmy roped him into the latest conversation about the online trolls that Superman had, a topic Clark was unable to remove himself from.
The bar wasn't crowded, but there were still a good number of people around you. You asked the bartender for another Shirley Temple, your drink of choice whenever you went out. You knew it was odd, but your fast metabolism made it hard to get drunk unless you shot back entire shelves of drinks. And when you did, your wallet didn't appreciate it nearly as much as the bartender on the receiving end of your tips.
"Hey there," an unfamiliar voice sounded next to you. A man sitting alone sent you a smile and a look that made you feel uneasy. You saw the way his eyes dragged down your frame, stopping to look pointedly at your chest and ass.
You turned back to the bar, rolling your eyes and hoping your drink would come out sooner rather than later.
"Why so prissy? Got a boyfriend or something? He doesn't gotta know were talking," he chuckled to himself, taking a long sip of his drink.
"Not interested," you said, not even sparing a glance at him.
You hear him scoff, followed by the scraping of his chair. When you finally turned, he had gotten so close to you that you could smell the sickening mix of cigarette smoke and alcohol on his breath.
Before you could even open your mouth and tell him off, you felt a large hand over your shoulder.
"Everything okay over here?" Clark asked, staring the man down like he was about to shoot lasers out of his eyes.
The man muttered to himself and turned back to his seat at the same time your drink was placed in front of you.
"Sorry," Clark said, removing his hand as you walked back to the table.
"No, I appreciate it, Clark. You're like my very own superhero," you giggled, settling into the booth once more. You hadn't missed the pale look on his face when you had told him that, but now you were able to connect the dots as to why it happened.
"Slow night, huh?" Clark said, leaning back in the air like he was reclining. His question snapped you out of your daze.
"Mhm," you agreed. There was an awkward pause. You didn't want to say too much, give him anything to connect him to you. But you couldn't exactly swing away from him either.
"Can I ask you something, Spider-Girl?"
"Go for it," you said, now rocking back and forth, trying not to focus on his focused gaze that was fixed on you.
Clark sighed before continuing, "Have you ever messed up with someone and not known how to fix it?"
Your heart stopped. Was he asking about you?
Clearing your throat, you spoke, "Yeah, I've been there."
Clark's head whipped towards yours. "Golly, it's horrible! I have no idea what to do." His fingers ran through his hair, ruining his pushed-down curly locks.
You watched as he displayed clear distress. "I'm sure whoever they are, they'll come around. Don't give up," you told him, feeling your stomach drop as his frown deepened.
He just hummed and dragged a hand across his face. A crashing sound in the distance had both of you on alert.
"Race you," you teased, already thwiping away through the city, only turning around once to see him chasing after you with a wide smile. Your heart warmed at the sight, it was better than the permanent frown he seemed to be wearing around you recently.
જ⁀➴
On Thursdays, you stayed later than the usual crowd at the Daily Planet. You took this time to edit your raw photos, as Perry liked to have a handful of photos for next week's papers ready by Friday.
The sun had gone down about two hours ago, and your stomach started to grumble. Sighing, you closed your laptop and stuffed it in your bag along with the other miscellaneous items on your desk.
Clark watched as you stepped out of the Daily Planet. Quickly making his way to your side, your head turned just seconds before he reached you.
"Clark?" you asked, brows furrowed.
"Thought you could use a commute buddy," he started. "You always stay so late on Thursday. It's not safe on the S Line after dark." Clark saw your face flush, and he quickly regretted saying so much.
"Gonna stand there the whole night and make me take the late train?" you teased, a small smile now making its way to your face.
"No, no! Let's go, lead the way!" Clark snapped out of his overthinking and joined you, walking side by side down the streets of the city.
Looking down at your form, Clark saw how the streetlights highlighted your face. The slope of your nose looked so prominent and defined, the rosiness of your cheeks on full display, and the twinkle of your eyes seemed to captivate him even more than usual. You weaved effortlessly through the crowd, like you had lived here your whole life. It had taken Clark some time to adjust to the hustle and bustle of the city, but you seemed to squeeze through strangers like it was second nature.
You made your way up to the platform for the S Line, and seconds later, the train came rushing in. Wind picked up around you, pushing your hair back and away from your face. Clark was mesmerized. If it wasn't for your small hand on his arm, he would've been frozen in his spot.
Like always, the cart was packed, but you managed to find two empty seats. Your thigh pressed against Clark's, and he swore he could feel the heat of your body through his dark blue slacks and your black tights.
The ride was mostly silent for you and Clark; he didn't quite know what to talk about with you in this newfound silence that had occurred over the past few weeks. The loud click-clacking of the tracks was nothing compared to how Clark honed in on your slow and deep breaths, like you were trying to calm down and regulate. You turned to him before he could look away, and you watched as his eyes traced across your features, flushing again under his watchful gaze.
Clark cleared his throat awkwardly as you tried to stiffle a laugh at his odd behavior.
"You're being weird," you told him blankly, but the small smile on your face told Clark you were poking fun at him, not chastising him.
"You're being weird," he mimicked, feeling the corners of his mouth tug upward. You broke out into a full smile at this, turning away from him, shaking your head. Clark’s heart tugged at this. Your smile always made his stomach do somersaults, but even more so when he was the cause.
With a small chime, you stood up, tugging on Clark's white button-down, once again sending him a playful smile. Finally, he felt like things were going back to normal.
"Did you eat yet?" he asked as you walked down the street towards your apartment.
"No," you huffed. "And you just reminded me that I forgot to go grocery shopping." You laughed at your own forgetfulness, sending Clark a small pout.
"Why don't we stop at Tony's? We can get a pizza and salad," Clark offered, trying to text the waters once more.
You nodded your head. "That actually sounds really good. It's down on Buckner, right?" you asked, pointing to a right you would have to make coming up. Clark hummed in agreement, and you continued walking.
It wasn't like Metropolis wasn't safe. It was, more so than other cities that didn't have their own posse of superheroes to protect them. Certainly more so than Gotham. But there were some streets that had poor lighting, cracked and uneven sidewalks, and a general air of unease. Buckner was one of those streets.
You felt it before it happened, turning around quickly. A man stood behind you with a gun, it was shaking in his hand a bit.
"Give me your wallets," his voice was quieter than you expected. But when you and Clark didn't move to grab your cash, he yelled, "Now!"
You could see the internal debate Clark was having. Does he step forward, save you, and let you know his identity? Or does he shield you, protect you like any other person would, giving the man his wallet without a protest?
The street was dark; you could barely make out the man's face as he stood in front of you, pointing the gun. That meant he could barely see yours as well. With that in mind, you acted.
With a flick of your wrist, webs shot out and stuck the gun to the nearest brick wall. Clark looked at you, shock on his face, but you once again shot webbing at the man, this time aiming for his hands, feet, and eyes.
Crumbling on the ground, the man cried out, "Oh, come on, lady! This is just my luck."
Clark stared at you, mouth slightly open in shock. "You're-" his voice seemed to catch in his throat.
"Yep," you said nervously, grimacing at him, worried about how he would react.
"Is that why-" he started again.
"Uh-huh," you answered, hand coming up to tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ears.
"And you know that I'm-" Clark gestured with his hands, letting you fill in the blank again.
"Yes, as soon as you introduced yourself. I've got like a 6th sense thing," you told him, face now flush as you thought of the best way to explain your odd sense of knowing.
"Oh wow." Clark stood next to you, awe-struck.
To some degree, he was confused. Confused about why you didn't just tell him. Why didn't you think you could trust him with something like this? But another part of him was relieved. Relieved that he hadn't done anything bad to drive you away. Relieved that things might go back to normal now, he could get what he had with you back. And relieved that you and Spider-Girl were one and the same, his dueling crush on both of you was getting to him a bit more this past week.
"I'm sorry. I just, I thought it was for the best. I didn't want either of us to get hurt because of it," you explained, eyebrows folding in on themselves.
Clark saw the look of hurt dance across your face and understood immediately why you kept this from him. Understood that you thought you were protecting him.
Reaching for your trembling hands, he said, "It's okay, I get it."
Gravitating towards him, Clark saw how your eyes fell to his lips. He leaned in an inch more.
Just as he saw your eyes flutter shut, the man on the street spoke again. "So, are you guys going to call the cops?"
This snapped you and Clark out of the trance you were in. You quickly let out an incredulous chuckle at the situation you were in. "Yeah, sorry," you replied.
"No, I get it. The gun and everything."
Clark had already begun dialing 911 to report everything, and after he did, you quickly left before anyone could connect the two of you to the webbing on the assailant. He glanced at the pizza place just up the road, and you nodded, laughing once again at the events of the night.
જ⁀➴
"Looks like you two are back to normal," Jimmy observed as Clark walked away from your desk, both of you grinning like idiots at one another.
"Mhm," you said, spinning your chair around to face him. "Walked me home last night, got some dinner."
Jimmy gasped, bringing a hand to his chest in shock. "So you told him!"
"Not here!" you chastised, whacking him with a new paper lying on your desk. He laughed at your flushed face.
"Oh come on! The man walks you home and buys you dinner, and you're not even going to give him a kiss on the cheek!"
"We were working stuff out last night. It wouldn't have been the right time," you said sheepishly, knowing it was just another excuse.
"What am I going to do with you two?" he spoke, rolling his eyes playfully. "It seems like Spider-Girl and Superman have a better chance at getting together than you do."
You laughed loudly at this, making a few heads turn in your direction as Jimmy gave you an odd look.
"Okay, weirdo. Sorry, I forgot about your crush on Superman, too," Jimmy said, raising his hands defensively.
"Jimmy!" you grumbled again, quickly swiveling your chair to look and see if Clark was listening to your conversation.
"Well, I'm rooting for you. Clark. Superman. But I think our gentle giant might be the better match. And I don't know if I can stand another night out where he hovers by your side like a lost puppy," Jimmy told you, leaning back in his chair.
You glanced across the bullpen to where Clark was sitting and working on his next article. You could see the passion and intensity in his features as he wrote. The way he pursed his lips when he got caught on a word. How he would drum his fingers on the desk as he reread his work. The satisfied little smile on his face when he finally closed the laptop.
"Both of you. Lovesick puppies," Jimmy cut into your train of thought, and you felt your cheeks heat up at his teasing.
You'd tell Clark eventually. But after last night, you wanted to keep things to yourself a little longer. Hold onto this little secret and let things get back to the way they were.
summary: bob floyd was in a pickle. his ma and pa were expecting him to bring someone home for his older brother’s wedding. are you up for the challenge of being his fake girlfriend for the week? or will it ruin your friendship?
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral fem and male receiving (bob eating it from the back), male masturbation, roommates/friends to lovers (my fav trope sue me), no use of y/n
word count: 14.3k
a/n: bob is a total mama's boy in this, but in such a good way. can you guys tell i just love bob so much? i hope you enjoy!
masterlist
your call sign: bee
In a month, Bob was expected back in Montana for his older brother's wedding. But he stared at the most recent missed call from his Ma and grimaced. How was the wedding already so close? And how had he dropped the ball this badly?
A few months earlier...
"Ma, yes, I'm still coming," Bob spoke into the phone pressed against his cheek and shoulder. His hands were folding his fresh laundry as it lay out on his bed.
"And your older brother needs to know if you're bringing someone with you, honey. There's no shame in coming home alone again..." his mother said in a sweet voice, but Bob knew what the underlying tone meant. All his life, he never had anyone to bring home. It was like an ongoing joke inside his family at this point. No high school or college girlfriends seemed acceptable at the time, but now he was a Navy pilot and couldn't get a girl? Well couldn't get the girl he really wanted.
Before he even thought about what he was saying, he blurted out a response, "I'm bringing someone."
What.
"What?! Robert Floyd, you better not be messing with me!" his mother squealed over the phone. "Jim!" Bob had to pull the phone away from his ear with a grimace as his mother shouted for his father. "He's bringing someone!"
"About time," he could hear his father's gruff voice on the other end of the call. "Was gettin' worried about him out there in California. That boy's not built for the beach."
"Oh, you hush! Honey, I'll go ahead and let Mark know. I love you!" his mother's excitement could be felt through the phone, her voice all high and pitchy.
"Bye Ma, I love you," Bob huffed out. What did he just do?
"How's she doing?" Bob jumped at the sound of your voice, quickly turning to you. You lounged against the door frame of his bedroom, wearing nothing but a sports bra and some running shorts. He hadn't expected you to be home from your run with Phoenix so soon.
"Ma? Oh, uh, yeah, she's good. She's good, nothing new, y'know," he fumbled through a response, trying to not to look at the way the beads of sweat ran down your neck.
You hummed at him, "That's good. Are you still up for Thai food tonight? The new place on 4th?"
Of course, he was. When you first mentioned it last weekend, he had almost jumped at the opportunity. Sure, he liked Thai food, but sitting across from you and sharing a meal was what Bob really cherished. "Yep! Yeah, that sounds good. Ready in an hour?"
"You read my mind, Bobby," you said with a grin as you backed into your room across from his.
Present time…
“What’s wrong?” you saw the scowl on Bob’s face as he stirred the pasta like he had a personal vendetta against it.
“Huh? Oh, um, just thinking about my brother’s wedding,” he said like even the thought made him sick.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you said as you prepped the various vegetables on the countertop around you. “I love weddings. The outfits, the candles, the flowers! I can’t wait to get married. And I don’t want to have a big wedding, y’know? But like more of a backyard, summer barbecue type of vibe. Oh! And I want all my bridesmaids in different color dresses!”
Bob watched you as you described your perfect wedding, mentally taking notes. The way you had set down the knife to wave your hands around was adorable. You were always so animated, unafraid to show your emotions.
“But Bobby, the best part about weddings is…” you left the ending open for him, ushering him to fill in the blank.
“The cake?” he questioned. To be honest, he was trying to appeal to your sweet tooth.
“I mean, yeah, that’s pretty high up there. But no, it’s the look right before the first kiss. So many people say it’s the first look or the actual kiss, but for me it’s that moment where everyone knows what’s coming next and the purest emotions are on the bride and groom's faces,” you explained in pure joy and awe, like you had experienced this feeling yourself. It was sweet to watch. Your wonder and love for the simple things were something Bob loved about you.
“But, why is that moment better than the first look?” he asked innocently.
You sighed wistfully. "Just that moment when you can see the excitement on the groom's face, and he can barely contain himself. And the bride is usually so bashful, but always so excited. It's just so sweet, Bobby."
It did sound sweet. If Bob and you were getting married, he doubts he'd be able to contain his eagerness before the first kiss. No, he'd be way too focused on you to even listen to the officiant of the ceremony. Surely, he'd forget what to say, and he'd be a mess through his vows.
Bob was quiet for a minute or two, and you wondered what was going on in his head. You saw the way he had a small smile on his face, like it was hidden and just for him at this moment. And the way his shoulders relaxed, going more and more slack as time passed.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" you asked him with a teasing smile.
"Yeah, maybe," he chuckled and went back to stirring the pasta. Bob wanted to stay in this moment forever with you. It was so domestic. Cooking together in the kitchen you shared, laughing and throwing each other playful looks, talking about weddings. Maybe one day you'll talk about your wedding. Anything you wanted for the big day, Bob was sure to agree.
Living with you had been both the best and worst thing for Bob. A few months into the program, your lease was about to let up, and you were scrambling to find a new place. Bob hadn't known you prior to the mission that brought you all down to San Diego, but you had become close very quickly. Being two of only a few backseaters in the squad, you and Bob had spent a lot of time together in training and going over mission briefs. He had met a handful of WSOs in his time in the Navy, but knowing you was like a breath of fresh air. You never diminished your position or your knowledge, even when other pilots would question your place in the military. It was a learning curve for him to be around at first; seeing you go toe-to-toe with cocky pilots was daunting. He learned that's where your call sign came from, Bee. You were sweet, but could sting when you wanted. Soon, he got used to it, becoming more confident in himself in turn.
When you joked about bumming it on Phoenix's couch until you found a new place, Bob chimed in, "You can stay at mine. I have a spare bedroom, never really got around to using it."
"Wait, really?" you asked, fully turning your body towards him. You always did that, too, gave your full attention to whoever you were talking to. It was a bit intimidating. Bob was only now getting used to it, but still felt his heart beat pick up.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind having a roommate," he said with a soft smile.
"Oh, Bobby, I could kiss you right now!" you said with a big grin, squeezing his forearm. He wished you had.
It wasn't until you had fully moved in that Bob realized the full consequences of his actions. You were horrible to live with.
Not in the way that you left dishes in the sink to "soak" all week, or you forgot to switch your laundry out for hours on end, or even in the way that you would blast music loudly at 2 in the morning. No, you didn't do any of those things. In fact, you always cleaned up after yourself, and Bob too, taking his plate right from his lap before he could protest. You cleaned the whole apartment, top to bottom, on Sundays. Your music carried throughout the hallways as you moved from room to room. Best of all, you baked! Every week! Trying a new recipe and being a little messy was your favorite way to unwind from a hectic work week, and lucky for Bob, he was your taste tester. Sure, you brought in your treats for the entire squad on Mondays, but Bob got to sit at the counter and watch you work. You would always gravitate towards him during this time, either letting him try the new brownie batter before you added more sugar or asking him how many chocolate chips are too many.
You were a great roommate. Always so courteous and kind. Anyone would be lucky to share a space like this with you. But it was torture actually living with you.
Too many times, Bob has caught a glimpse of you walking around in nothing but a shirt and some panties. To be fair, it was almost always after you had showered and were walking to your room. But as Bob watched you track down the hallway, he cursed himself for offering up the room in the first place.
And since moving in and getting closer, you had become even more touchy than usual with him. You were quick to give out hugs and other normal affectionate gestures to everyone on the squad, Bob included, even when he had only known you for a few weeks. But now, it was like Bob's personal space was your personal space. You always pressed into him when maneuvering around the small kitchen. Bob always held his breath, feeling you up against him, reaching for the oregano or paprika. Recently, too, your hand would work its way into his windswept hair after long days at the beach. The way your nails would drag against his scalp made him want to groan every time.
But worst of all were busy nights at the Hard Deck. On multiple occasions, barstools would fill up quick, only leaving the squad with two or three seats. It was fine for most of the night, with everyone so invested in the latest match of pool between Bradley and Jake. But after a few hours, you needed a break and always found your way into Bob's lap.
"I can get up, so you can sit," Bob stammered out the first time you sat on his lap. The rest of the squad shared amused looks, careful to hide them from both of you.
"It's okay, Bobby, I know you wanna sit too. Plus, you're comfy," you said, wiggling around trying to find the best position like he actively wasn't about to combust.
A bump of your hip snapped the man back into your kitchen. "Everything okay over there, space cadet?" you asked, tilting your head to look at him better.
"Mhm, yeah. I'm okay," he said in a small voice, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes.
Furrowing your brows, you wondered what was making Bob so distant tonight. "You know you can always talk to me, right?" you offered with a small smile. People say that but rarely mean it. But you meant it, and you wanted him to know that. He just nodded his head and continued stirring the boiling pasta. "Okay, Bobby. I'm here when you want to talk," you said as you rubbed up and down his back. You swore you saw a chill run up his spine.
You watched the way his face continued to fall as you worked on dinner. Bob was always quieter than you, so gentle and sweet. But you hoped whatever was bothering him would go away, or that he would talk to you about it at least. As the night continued, he gave you those small smiles, and your worry just grew.
જ⁀➴
"Why don't you just ask Bee?" Phoenix questioned as she grabbed the drink Penny put on the bar top. The Hard Deck was busy with patrons in all corners of the joint.
"I can't just ask her!" Bob squeaked out; he felt his cheeks flush at the thought of it.
"Why not? Because you have a crush on her? Come on, Bob," she teased him with a shit-eating grin on her face. She watched him slump against the bar as if she had just punched him in the gut. "If you won't take me, then why not Bee?"
Bob sighed, given that they had this conversation almost every day. Before training, after training, and even during training. Even the clear blue skies weren't safe from Natasha's questions. "It's not like I don't want to take you. But my parents know you. They're expecting me to bring someone home, y'know."
"Someone to give them grandchildren," Phoenix cackled as Bob groaned loudly. Penny placed his fizzy soda on the bar with a smile, knowing all about the man's debacle. Natasha thanked her, and they made their way back to the squad.
"Don't say that! I don't even, I can't even think- Oh jeez, Phoenix. No more talking about this. I've decided." The pilot swore she had never heard his voice that pitchy before. Bob shook his head as he wove through the crowd of people.
Once they had settled back into the fray of the squad, Natasha finally took to giving actual advice, not just teasing her back-seater. "I think you should just be honest, tell her. It's Bee."
"Oh yeah, let me just tell her I've been in love with her for months on end now. She's gonna think I'm a creep! Luring her into my apartment, making her live with me," he half shouted, half whispered at her. "And I also said, I didn't want to talk about this. Especially with her right there." Bob glanced at you laughing freely with Bradley, head thrown back. Your energy was contagious to the people around you, as he saw Bradley and Mickey spotting matching smiles. Bob found himself smiling to himself, too.
"She wanted to live with you, idiot. And I'm not saying confess your love. Just ask for this favor. You don't have to give anything away if you don't want to," she said matter-of-factly. If only it were that easy. Within minutes of you being in his childhood home, Bob would surely fold and show all the feelings he's been trying so hard to hide. One conversation and approving nod from his mother, and he'd propose on the spot.
The pair were too entrenched in their conversation to see you making your way over. You didn't mean to snoop, but you couldn't help overhearing snips of their chatter.
"I just don't know what I'm going to do. I have to tell Ma I'm not bringing anyone," Bob muttered, dragging a hand down his jaw.
"To the wedding?" You whipped around and saw Bob's eyes almost pop out from behind his glasses. Phoenix, however, let a mischievous glint dance on her face as she watched the two of you. Directing your attention back to Bob, you continued, "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But if you need someone, I'll go."
Natasha let out the biggest cackle you had heard; it even caught a few of the other aviators' attention. She looked to Bob, who seemed to be frozen in time, and decided she would do her best friend a solid.
"His family is expecting a girlfriend. That's why Bob is having such a hard time," she explained. But you just furrowed your brows further at this.
"I'll be your girlfriend," you said. At this, Bob nearly fell off his barstool. "I mean, I can be your pretend girlfriend for a week. I'm really good with parents and family and stuff. And we know each other well, too! I'm sure we'd be a convincing couple. So, yeah. If you need someone." Suddenly, you felt awkward under his gaze. You definitely gave it away. Who just proclaims they'd be someones fake girlfriend?
You met Jake's gaze from across the pool table and saw him biting down on his bottom lip, trying to suppress the grin on his face. Flashing a 'Help me!' face in his direction, the blonde man made his way over to you.
"Offering your fake girlfriend services again, Bee?" he asked with a raised brow. Both Phoenix and Bob shot him quizzical looks. "Bee came out to dinner with my folks when they were in town a few weeks ago. They were on me about not settling down, but she quelled those fears. Swear I've never seen my mom fall in love faster."
"Really?" Bob asked, looking between both of you. "You met his parents?" A flash of hurt crossed his face. You had missed it completely, but both Hangman and Phoenix caught the distress on his face.
"That's perfect! Right, Bob? Bee would be great," she hit his arm, trying to snap him out of what Jake had just said. The three of you looked at Bob, waiting for his response.
He nodded slowly before responding, "Yeah, I mean, if you're okay with missing the full week. I'd love to take you." Natasha grinned at his recovery, mentally noting to pat him on the back about it later.
"I can talk to Maverick about it tomorrow. I'd love to come," you said bashfully. Jake smiled knowingly at your response. He locked eyes with Natasha and winked. The woman just rolled her eyes but got the signal.
"When was the last time I beat you in pool Hangman? I think my trophy needs a little dusting off," she challenged, gaining the attention of the squad and taking it off Bob and you.
"Looking for a rematch? I'm happy to oblige," Jake said in a sickeningly sweet tone. He stepped closer so only she could hear the next part of his sentence, "I'll win this game, just like I'll win our bet."
"In your dreams, Seresin," she scoffed. "Rack 'em!"
જ⁀➴
Jake's couch had become a second home to you at this point. Its cushions surely remembered the way you would slump into them every weekend. Being Jake's back-seater was a challenge at first; you were never one to back down, and neither was Jake. It wasn't until you both had figured out that instead of going up against each other, you could turn your focus on the pilots around you. So as time went on, you bonded over your love for college football, dad rock, and surprisingly, the Great British Bake Off.
"Oh come on, Tom! No one is going to win with a ganache like that," Jake exclaimed from the end of the couch. There was no quippy response from you, and Jake raised an eyebrow in your direction. You had been like this all week. Mopey and weird. Your usual trash talk to other pilots or Maverick was replaced with a stone-cold face. It was just as intimidating, but Jake knew something was up.
Clutching the throw pillow in your arms, you couldn't even focus on the monstrosity that was Tom's cake on your screen. No, all that ran through your head was how you were going to contain yourself around Bob and his family. In just two days.
With a whack, fabric came flying on top of your head.
"Ow! Jake!" you exclaimed, immediately putting your arms up to protect yourself from further attacks.
"Jake! Don't Jake, me," he sassed you, only making the pout in your lips grow deeper. "What is going on with you? Is this still about Baby on Board?"
"Don't call him that," you grumbled, taking your pillow and whacking him across the chest.
He just rolled his eyes and continued, "Seriously, you need to get it together. Baby on Board and his family are expecting a perfect girlfriend, and right now, you're this."
You scowled at him as he chastised you. "Jake, that's mean. I just," you sighed before continuing. "I just don't know how I'm going to do this. A whole week? He'll know!"
Your dramatics were nothing new to Jake, but when it came to Bob, it seemed like you dialed it up tenfold. "This opportunity has been placed in your lap. I think you should take advantage of it, embrace it," he suggested.
"That's easier said than done," you mumbled.
This upcoming week made you queasy just thinking about it. It wasn't that you didn't want to go to meet Bob's family. No, you wanted all of it. But not like this. From the first day you met Bob, you knew you were in for it. His cute glasses and sweet smile almost had you confessing by the end of the first week.
When he asked you to move in with him, you had happily agreed. But as the arrangement unfolded, you realized what kind of agony would be in store for the near future. The way he always carried in all the groceries, not letting you lift a finger. How he always drove you, never letting you sit behind the wheel, no matter what kind of day he had. And he was so handy around the apartment, too. One day, the garbage disposal in your kitchen stopped working, and just as you were about to call someone, Bob brought over his tool kit and got down on his knees. It was way more attractive than it needed to be.
But these little daily pains were nothing compared to what you had walked in on about a month ago. You were about to go on your daily run with Phoenix when she called you from the car to cancel. Turning your keys and walking back into the house, you slipped off your sneakers and began padding down the hallway towards your room.
Just as you were about to head into your room, there was an odd sound. At first, you thought it was the apartment, settling, or something that people always say when a building makes noise. But as you paused, clutching your shoes and phone close to you, you knew it was something else. It was him.
His moans were unmistakable, so vocal and loud. And you froze. For a few seconds, you just stood there, listening. Listening to Bob falling apart. The schlepping of his hand against himself was unmistakable. The rocking of the bed, too. You had to peel yourself away from this. Away from his noise. So that's what you did.
You tried to forget it. But a part of you wanted to remember, as horrible as that sounds. You hadn't been able to look Bob in the eye for a few days after, and when you did, the heat in your tummy would start again.
The thought of sharing this week with Bob was more daunting than any mission you had ever faced.
"Hey! Are we going to watch this episode, or are you just going to sit and stew the whole night?" Jake's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Sorry, just a little worried still," you said quietly. Jake had never seen you like this before, so in your own head.
He slid down the couch and placed an arm around your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay, I promise. Your biggest worries right now should be if Tom can figure out his presentation for the judges."
You giggled at his teasing. "Fucking, Tom," you murmured under your breath.
"Yes, fucking, Tom! God, he's selling it!" Jake boomed next to you, throwing you into another fit of laughter. "Seriously, Bee. Don't worry too much about this week."
"I will be texting you live updates every hour, I hope you know," you said with a grin.
"Wow, only hour updates. I was expecting every 5 minutes," Jake teased, poking into your sides. You just swatted his hands away, fighting off a smile.
જ⁀➴
Stepping onto the packed dirt and smelling the fresh Montana air was a relief to Bob. The picturesque mountain ranges were illuminated by the strong moonlight, and the sky was lit up by thousands of twinkling stars. It was something to get lost in, and that's exactly what Bob found as he turned to look at you. "It's so beautiful," you said, eye going a little wide, and your voice was quiet. Bob figured it was from your hours of traveling, maybe partly from the awe of the view.
Without looking away from you, he responded, "Very beautiful."
Bob's moment of peace with you was interrupted by a swift closing of the front door and a cheery voice. "Bob! Oh, honey, you made it safe!" an older, but spry woman ran up to Bob. You looked at the pair as they embraced and caught a look at them, side by side. Bob was much larger than the woman, towering over her. His arms stood out against her frame as your eyes trailed across his large muscles and hands without even realizing what you were doing. And his nose, it was the same as the woman who stood next to him. The cute button was something you always caught yourself looking at when tracing the map of his face.
A squeal snapped you out of your daze, and you were quickly met with a tight hug and a rushed introduction of Bob's mother's name, Pam. "Oh wow! You must be Bee! You are so gorgeous. I don't know why Bob kept you hidden from us for so long." She leaned back a bit and took you in, dragging her hands across your frame and face. You giggled at her ministrations.
"Thank you for having me this week. I'm so excited to get to know you all," you said with a sweet smile.
"Oh, we are so happy to have you, Bee! Such a cute little nickname, you don't mind?" she asked, but continued on anyway. "We were a little worried about Bob for a while there. Honestly, never thought he would-"
Bob's eyes widened, knowing the long list of stories his mother could tell you. "Alright! Alright, let's not talk about all that just yet," he cut her off with a blush that dusted his cheeks.
"Honestly," you started, gaining the attention of both Bob and his mother. "Bob is the best thing that's ever happened to me. You raised such a kind and thoughtful man. I'm so thankful for him." Your eyes met his as you spoke, sharing a look of genuine care. Pam caught the way you looked at her son and smiled knowingly.
"Well, you two had better head on up to bed. Your Pa is sleeping, but he'll be up bright and early. And everyone will be over tomorrow night to meet you, Bee," Pam said, finally letting you out of her grasp. Instead, she placed a hand on your lower back to guide you inside.
You turned to grab some of your bags to take inside, but instead saw Bob balancing all of your luggage in his hold, just the same as when you left the apartment and at the airport. He shot you a look, telling you to head inside. You rolled your eyes, but mouthed 'thank you' as you kept walking with his mother.
She led you to a small bedroom upstairs in the rustic-looking house. It was cosy, a queen bed with golden colored quilt, a small adjoining bathroom, and a small window with lace curtains. She gave you another quick hug and whispered 'goodnight' before heading back down the stairs to bed.
Bob set down your bags and let out a deep breath.
"You okay? Wanna shower first? You had a long day," you said, a hand coming to his shoulder and rubbing it sweetly. He melted into your touch, unconsciously leaning into you.
"No, no. You go first, I'll be okay," Bob said softly, trailing off a bit towards the end. You had been traveling since that morning, and you could tell how tired the man in front of you was. Your flight was a few hours long, and since his family didn't live in Bozeman or Billings, Bob had to rent a car and drive 3 more hours out to the small town.
"Bobby, go shower and get ready for bed. I'll unpack and lay out the clothes for tomorrow." You took your hands and placed them on both sides of his shoulder, pushing him into the bathroom as he chuckled lowly.
Bob gave you a tired, but grateful look before he closed the bathroom door carefully. Today had been long, but seeing the way you interacted with his mother made it all worth it.
Stepping under the warm stream of water, Bob felt his muscles relax instantly. He didn't want to take long in the shower, knowing you were waiting for him, but he also needed a few moments to himself. Reflecting on your day together, Bob felt himself getting half hard at the thought of you.
On the plane ride over, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder, your body angling into his. With your odd positioning, your tits were pressed right up against him for the majority of the flight. It took everything in him to keep his gaze straight ahead on the action movie playing on the little screen in front of him and not your soft, full chest.
His right hand drifted down, gripping himself firmly.
And your hair. You had been tucked right under his chin, and the scent of your shampoo was overwhelming. Sometimes, Bob would catch a whiff of it floating down the hallway after your showers, but now it was coming at him in waves. He felt like such a creep, but what was he supposed to do? Push you away from him? Bob didn't know the next time you would get so close to him.
Now, his cock stood proud under the stream.
In the car ride over, you had made it a point to keep him company since it was so late at night. Finding a radio station that played old country music, you began to sing along to almost every song that played. After the fourth song, Bob knew it wasn't a fluke that you knew all the lyrics so well. You explained that your college roommate was from Wyoming and was constantly playing her music in the dorms.
Bob knew he needed to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn't help the way he looked over to your figure sitting beside him. Your lips moving along to whatever song was playing, your thighs pressed up against the leather seat of the truck, and the way your hand would occasionally find its way to his upper back, rubbing soft, smooth circles into it, all drove him to glance over at your sweet face.
His pace was steady now.
Bob felt so dirty, touching himself like this with you, only a thin wall away. But he knew if he didn't do it now, he wasn't sure when he would get a chance this week. So he hunched over the corner of the shower, trying to focus on anything but you. But like every time before this one, Bob's mind only wandered to thoughts of you.
What would you look like with water cascading down your tits? Or how your back would arch into the tile of the shower as he fucked you from behind. Best of all, how your face would twist with pleasure as he drilled into you, making you cum all over his thick cock.
That's what always got him to finish. Thinking about you, your pleasure. He caught the groan in his throat before it sounded, instead biting down on his free fist, whining lowly.
After cleaning up fully, Bob looked around the bathroom and realized he hadn't brought any clean clothes in with his. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped out sheepishly.
At the creak of the bathroom door, you looked up from your place on the ground. You were met with Bob's nearly bare form. Water droplets from his hair were dripping down his shoulders, finding their way down his chest and waist. As you tracked one of the droplets, your eyes stopped when they met his waist. Bob's v-line was even better than you had imagined, and you had thought about it a lot.
He had an aversion to taking his shirt off around others, and that was reasonable. Especially in front of a bunch of macho, testosterone-fueled Navy men. But you had always wondered what he looked like under the kaki uniform he wore so often. Seeing it up close almost had you drooling.
"Forgot a change of clothes," he explained in a quiet voice. You just hummed, not trusting your voice. Pushing up off the ground and padding over to the dresser, you opened a drawer, and Bob found all of his clothes folded and set perfectly. His heart warmed at the thought of your delicate fingers working across all the clothing he had packed for the week. You had obviously taken care of his stuff first, as your luggage was still open on the floor.
Bob grabbed a change of clothes and kept his voice at the same quiet tone, "Thank you, Bee." You smiled up at him, staring a bit too long. But quickly, you fumbled to grab your nightwear from your bag and made your way into the bathroom.
Bob dropped the towel from his waist and began to dress. He didn't miss the way your eyes trailed down his body, and honestly, it made his stomach flip. Just as he was about to lie down and call it a night, he realized you hadn't discussed the bed situation. Bob would never want to make you uncomfortable, so he shuffled down the hall and found his way into the spare linen closet, grabbing a fluffy comforter and some blankets to lie down on the floor beside the bed.
Not too long after, you emerged from the bathroom and furrowed your brows at the sight of the empty bedroom, expecting to see Bob knocked out on the bed from such a long day.
"Down here," Bob's voice startled you as his hand shot up in a lazy wave from the other side of the bed.
"Bob? What are you doing?" you asked the man, walking over to see him laying down on the makeshift bed he had set up on the hardwood floor.
He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite meeting your eyes. "Didn't want to make you feel like we needed to share the bed or anything like that."
"We've literally fallen asleep on the couch together," you said, narrowing your eyes as a teasing smile made its way to your face at his chivalry. "I don't mind sharing the bed at all, Bobby. And that can't be comfortable."
"No, no. Ma's got the best blankets. Feels like a cloud," Bob explained with a soft smile.
You narrowed your eyes at the man before speaking, "With you back? Do you remember earlier today when we got off the plane?"
Bob recalled the moment of weakness. He had stretched out a bit too far after sitting for hours on end and felt a tug throughout his body, wincing a little. You had fused over him for the next 30 minutes, almost refusing to get in the car if you couldn't drive. But Bob, of course, got his way.
He looked as if he was about to argue with you. Bob was hardheaded sometimes, but you knew just the right thing to say to knock him out of it.
"Plus, if your mom comes to wake us up and she sees you sleeping on the floor, everything would be ruined," you offered. Seeing a look of recognition flash across his face, he nodded slowly, like he was considering your words. "Come on, Bobby. I'll help you fold everything and put it back."
You giggled as he sprang up from the floor, a hand already coming down to his lower back.
"I knew your back was going to hurt! Comfy my ass," you said, smacking him lightly across the chest. He just smiled at you, joining in with some soft chuckles that warmed your heart.
Curling into bed, you felt sleep hit you almost immediately. Letting your eyelids droop, part of you wanted to stay up and think about tomorrow. To pick Bob's brain about who might show up. Worry about what they would think of you. But the sound of Bob's voice made your heart slow and breathing even out.
"G'night, Bee. Thank you again for coming with me," Bob told you, not even sure if you were lucid enough to hear him.
"Anything for you, Bobby. Goodnight," you said in the softest voice he thinks he's ever heard from you. Your words slurred a little and were definitely muffled by the pillow, but he still heard you. He saw your eyelashes flutter across your cheeks as you settled into sleep. The way your mouth opened slightly, lips parting so delicately. How your body seemed to curl into itself, making you look so small and fragile.
Wishing to hold you close to his chest like earlier today on the plane or to grasp your hand to hold in his sleep, Bob just stayed up for a few minutes longer to watch your sleeping form. Soon enough, his thoughts of you became muddy and distant as sleep took over, claiming you both now.
જ⁀➴
Bob had awoken to soft beams of sunlight streaming through the lace curtains. Everything was quiet, and Bob let himself lie for a moment, taking in the peace. Just as he was about to stretch and get up, he looked to his side and saw you.
Your cheek was still flushed up against the pillow, and your hair was in a bit of a mess as it rubbed on the fabric. It wasn't rare that Bob got to see you relax, but it was rare to see you completely void of all concerns. Usually, you were still holding some type of resistance in your shoulders or furrowing your brows slightly, even when lying across the couch at the end of the day. But now, you looked completely free. He smiled a bit at this.
Like you had sensed him mentally tracing the outline of your nose or the apples of your cheeks, suddenly your eyelashes fluttered, and you opened your eyes.
"G'morning, Bobby," you half mumbled-half whispered into your pillow. You weren't sure he understood you until hearing his telltale chuckle that was seemingly reserved for you.
"Morning, Bee," he said softly, voice a little deeper than usual. You chalked it up to the morning hours, but it still made your tummy flip. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mhm," you hummed. Bob saw that you made no effort to move from your comfortable position and chuckled again.
He often teased you for being so out of it in the mornings, but Bob had never seen you so unguarded. On the weekends you had off from training, you would usually pad into the kitchen, eyes still a little puffy and your movement still a little soft. There was one time Bob had to quickly intervene before you poured your coffee into your cereal bowl instead of your mug. But right now was different.
"Don't laugh," you grumbled. "Need like five more minutes. Or maybe ten."
Just as Bob was about to say okay and lie back under the covers with you, he heard a familiar pattern of steps making their way up the hallway.
"I'm afraid you're not going to get that, Bee," he spoke, seeing your brows fold in on themselves at his words. But soon, the bedroom door opened, and Pam was rushing to hug you good morning.
"I can see Bob has been soft on you, letting you sleep in," she joked as you shot up in the bed to meet her embrace. "We Floyds are early risers! Better start building the habit now."
"Oh, I know. Bob's up every morning at the crack of dawn, it feels like. Always hear him trying to be so quiet around the apartment," you said with a yawn as she drew away from you. Bob's cheeks heated at the thought of you being so in tune with his morning routine.
"Well, I won't rush you this morning, but breakfast will be ready in 20 minutes. Then we'll head into town afterwards, alright, Bee?" she said with a fond smile on her face. You nodded your head, saying a quick thank you as she closed the door and left.
The room was silent for a few seconds as you and Bob shared a small smile and knowing look at what had happened. "I'm only getting up early for her this week, Floyd. Don't expect any new habits when we're back home," you joked, a teasing smile on your face.
"Oh, I know. Wouldn't want to disrupt your morning routine of inside-out jeans and backwards shirts," Bob said with full seriousness as he pushed the covers off his body.
"Whatever that happened like one time," you said, pursing your lips. Hearing his laughter fill the air made your face flush with embarrassment. "One time! It was one time!"
Your protests at his teasing had no effect. Instead, Bob's laughter seemed to increase ten-fold as he doubled over in the bed.
"Bob, stop! It was one time!" you whined now. "You said it wasn't that bad."
His laughter subsided as he began to speak, "I know, I know." There was a silence that lasted for a few seconds until he spoke again, "But it was so funny, Bee." With that, Bob burst out laughing again as you half groaned, half laughed loudly.
From the kitchen, Pam smiled to herself, hearing her son's laughter carry throughout the house.
જ⁀➴
That night, like Pam had promised, Bob's extended family was over. Honestly, Bob was a little worried for you. His family could be a lot, and given that this was the first time he had brought anyone home, he expected everyone to poke and prod at you. But as his family filed into the house, your bright smile had never faltered.
Sometime after dinner but before dessert, Bob had lost you in the crowd of Floyds. He had walked through the house about ten different times at this point, looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found. Seeing the worried look on his face, his father gently grasped his son's shoulder to gain his attention.
"She's outside," he said lowly. Bob nodded and walked with purpose towards the back porch. His mind racing, thinking of all the possibilities that would've pushed you to escape outside. Were you crying? Was this all too overwhelming? Did someone ask you a rude question? Had you finally gotten sick of him? Sick of this role you were playing?
Right as he was about to push the door open, Bob paused. He saw you outside, but you weren't alone.
Gathered around you in the grassy field was a gaggle of small children, all laughing and smiling. Bob couldn't tell exactly what you were playing with the children, but after one of his younger cousins ran up to you and tapped your hip, he understood immediately. Bob smiled to himself, seeing you take off into a run as all the children screamed joyfully.
"She's sweet. Reminds me of your mother." Bob was snapped out of his trance as his father spoke. "Good job, son," he added, hand coming to clap softly on Bob's back.
Bob felt his heart race watching you. He knew you were perfect, living with you and being best friends had proven it to him. But he had never seen you like this, so carefree and thoughtful. Sure, there were nights when Jake or Bradley would get a bit too carried away at the Hard Deck, and you would be right by their side, taking care of them. But it wasn't even close to this.
Bob saw you chase around the children, never gaining too fast on the younger kids, but still giving the older ones a run for their money. He watched as all the kids gravitated towards you, all of their smiles and laughs being thrown your way. And Bob understood this feeling deeply. He had always felt a pull towards you. It came out in various ways, like always finding your eyes when Coyote would say something outrageous during training. Or bursting out into synchronized laughter whenever Jake would ultimately lose another game of pool to Nat. And his favorite was the way you would find your way over to Bob whenever you were in a large group. You could talk to Jake or joke around with Bradley, but whenever the full Dagger Squad was together on a crowded night at the Hard Deck, you were glued to Bob's side. These moments let him know that you were undeniably in each other's orbit.
Finally, Bob pulled open the door and walked out to you and your new friends.
"Uncle Bob!" one of the children exclaimed. You whipped around, seeing Bob walking up to you with a small smile on his face.
"Thought I lost you in there," he joked. You smiled, not speaking but walking closer to meet him in the middle. He met your kind eyes, but upon looking into them further, he squinted a little at you. Just as he was about to step back, you lunged forward.
"Tag! You're it!" you blurted out, giggling as you sprinted in the opposite direction. The children seemed to follow your example, all shrieking and laughing as Bob took off.
Suddenly, you heard little cries of your name. Turning around, you saw Bob gaining on you. Before you knew it, his hands grasped your waist, picking you up a few inches off the ground, bringing you into his chest.
Tucked close into him now, you felt his breath on the back of your neck. The heaving of his chest against your back had you squirming. "Can't get away that easily," his voice close to your ear. Biting down on your lip, careful to not let the whine out, you felt your tummy flip at the position he had you in.
You had come outside to escape, yes. But not from Bob's never-ending list of uncles or aunts. From him.
During dinner, he had been nothing but kind to you. Caring. Attentive. And it had been like that all day. From when you left the house and went into town with him and his mother, you hadn't as much as blinked before Bob made sure you didn't have to lift a finger. Sure, he had done this to a certain extent back in California, not letting you open the door or always opening glass jars for you when in the kitchen together. But today was a different level.
Pam insisted on getting you a pair of real, genuine cowgirl boots. She marched you into "Jesse's Boots & Shoes" and immediately sat you down on one of the little benches. After gathering what seemed like half the merchandise in the store, she came back to you with stacks of boxes full of different types of boots.
As you began to bend down to untie your shoes, Bob suddenly appeared in front of you. On his knees.
"I got it, don't worry," he said, before delicately unlacing your shoes. His large, warm hand flew up underneath your calf, and the other shimmied off your shoe. Then he looked up with that sweet smile and repeated the whole process on your other foot. You could've sworn you saw Pam snap a picture.
Later in the day, you made it back to the house and were helping Pam fix up some lunch. She handed you a big yellow onion and a kitchen knife, but before you could even take hold of the wooden handle she had outstretched to you, Bob had rushed into your view. Stealing the onion out of your right hand and gently pushing you out of the way of the cutting board, you looked at him incredulously.
"I know how watery your eyes get. I got it, just go sit down," he offered with that same sweet smile.
"I can cut one onion, Bobby," you said, playfully trying to grab the onion from his hand. He just raised his hands above his head, ensuring you wouldn't be able to reach him.
"I got it, Bee. Don't try to argue," he challenged, raising his brows. Huffing, you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that was creeping on your face.
Pam once again snapped a picture. This time, giggling to herself a bit like she knew this was going to happen.
The third time was right before everyone had arrived. You were upstairs, checking your hair one last time and making sure your outfit looked okay, when you noticed you had forgotten to put your necklace on this morning.
After retrieving the delicate piece from the bathroom, Bob had seemingly appeared. Seeing the jewelry in your hand, he walked forward with purpose, holding out his palm. You raised an eyebrow at his actions.
"Seen you do it a million times," he started. "Let me."
You nodded, not trusting your voice once again, dropping the piece into his hand. Softly, his free hand came down to your hip, guiding you to turn around.
Then, you felt his arms go around your shoulders, not touching, but there. It was so quiet in that moment. The only noise you could hear was the creaking of the old house and Bob's soft breathing close to your ear. It was distracting. Maddening, after the day you had.
Clasping the necklace around you, his hands dropped. Turning back around, you were met, once again, by the same sweet smile.
"You look beautiful, Bee," he told you before backing out of the room. "I'll be downstairs whenever you're ready."
Driven outside, you had wanted to sit on the porch for a bit. Think about what this weekend really meant for you. For Bob. For your friendship. But your plans were quickly interrupted after feeling a little tug on your leg and hearing a quiet invitation to a game of tag.
"Robert Floyd, you'd better let go of that girl! We've got apple pie coming out the oven!" Pam's voice drew you back into the heart-racing position you were in. Bob was quick to set you down, smoothing his hands over your hips in an effort to fix the creases in your dress that his hold had caused. But you saw the raging blush that crossed his face and burst out into a fit of giggles, and soon, all of his younger cousins were doing the same thing.
"I think this might be your inside-out jean moment," you teased with a smile, seeing the blush turn to a darker shade.
"Not funny," he said sternly, but you could tell he was trying to hold back a laugh.
"Mm, I recall saying something earlier this morning like that." You grinned at him, walking closer to the house, but your body was still fully facing the man in front of you. "But Bobby, it's so funny!" you laughed, throwing your head back. Bob couldn't help but smile, even if it was at the expense of his own actions.
What neither Bob nor you realized was the crowd of onlookers peaking through the windows, watching as Bob Floyd was struck with a look of love.
જ⁀➴
You had been right. The look before the first kiss was the best part of a wedding. Bob doesn't remember the last time he'd seen his older brother so giddy.
You, on the other hand, had missed it completely. Looking at the man who sat next to you instead. You saw the way the corners of Bob's mouth pulled upwards, smiling brightly.
The week had gone smoothly, both of you getting away with touches that were a little more lingering than usual or looks that called for a deeper conversation. To Bob's family, this looked like restraint, manners, and control. To you, this was torture, heartache, and suppression. You didn't know how many more instances of Bob's big hand on the small of your back you had in you before you broke completely. His gentle guidance and care throughout the week had been something that you reveled in. Returning to California, returning to normalcy, it all seemed so distant.
Sipping some champagne, you sat with Bob at the reception. Stringed bulbs lit up the night. Bright colors popped from all of the flowers that seemed to be placed on every table. And sweet music filled the air, inviting everyone to dance.
Bob studied your face under the night sky and limited lighting. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Dread filled his heart, though. The thought of this week just being a glimpse into what life would be like if he got up the courage to ask you to be with him weighed heavily on his heart.
Going to bed with you every night was something Bob didn't even know he was missing, but now he craved it so deeply. Being able to talk to you and share his thoughts with you right before bed. Getting to hear you ramble on, either about your worries or joys, was something he began to love more than anything. The way your voice would begin to taper, become gentle, when you were truly tired and ready for sleep. How you supported your face under your small palm while talking with him in the dark. How your eyes would become glassy and glazed over as you finally hit the pillow. These moments became precious to him.
"All couples! Head to the dance floor now! Tell your partner how much you care about them, and let's dance!" The DJ's voice broke Bob's train of thought. Without thinking, he rose out of his seat and offered you a hand.
Sheepishly, you took it, letting him guide you.
A soft, slow melody filled the air as you began to take your place with Bob. His hands brushed your hips, stiff, like he was in middle school, and it was his first time slow dancing. You chuckled a little under your breath.
"What's got you laughing now?" he asked, soft and sweet. Eyes searching yours with intensity you had only seen from him this week.
You looked at him for a moment and just grinned, like you knew something he didn't.
"Just so stiff, Bobby. Relax," you told him, pushing into his space a little more. Your hands found their way around his shoulders, palms settling on the broad plain of his back. Now, your face met his chest, and you melted into him.
Bob felt the sway of your hips and the light movement of your feet. If it wasn't for you, he would've stood still, not knowing what to do with you like this. Sure, he had danced like this before. But it was never this intimate. This deep. This connected.
At any moment, Bob felt like he was going to let the words spill out of him. Tell you how he was really feeling. It seemed so easy.
The way you interacted with his family. Cooking with his Ma, talking about college sports with his Pa. Even the way you talked with his brother and sister-in-law. Though it was brief, you made an immediate connection. You and his sister-in-law, chatting away like you had grown up together. And he didn't miss the way his older brother shot him a look of surprise, but approval.
But it wasn't just about them. It was also about the way you just fit so well into his life. Sure, you weren't an early riser, and Bob had learned this weekend that you weren't the best with large animals, but he didn't mind. If being with you meant slow mornings where you would coax him back to bed, hands grasping for him to come lie with you beneath the sheets, he'd be okay with that. More than okay. And if the biggest animal you owned was a chocolate lab, that would be okay by him, too.
Slowly, his large hands came around your waist, more secure and grounded. And Bob closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. Taking in this moment with you was the most important thing to him.
You danced under the twinkling lights and stars, no concern for the people around you. No concern that this was fake, that it was all pretend. Because right now, it felt real.
Hearing the thump of Bob's heart calmed you. It was grounding you, just like the gentle guitar in the background. You swayed like that for a while, but eventually the pounding of his heart and the steadiness of his figure became all too much. While the music swelled, so did your chest. Heaving up and down at a much more rapid pace.
Bob, feeling the sudden shift in your energy, pulled back, but just slightly. Still close enough to hear the hitch in your breath, to see the quiver of your bottom lip.
Your eyes blinked rapidly. Looking up at Bob seemed like an impossible task. But with a gentle touch to your chin, you did.
"Bee?" he asked softly. Concern written across his face.
"I'm sorry," you said, even quieter. With slow moments, you pressed your lips to his.
Your lips were softer than he imagined. The way your lips slotted between his was like second nature. And before you could pull back, he learned in deeper. Taking the hand that was under your chin and pressing it into the back of your head. Meeting you in the kiss, he pressed closer to you, and you felt the strong hold he had on your hip.
Bob wanted so badly to lick into your mouth, to mix your spit. But he restrained himself upon feeling the slight jump below his waist.
The solid kiss made your tummy turn in a way you didn't think was possible. Something deeper took hold of you as you melted, once again, into the man in front of you. The heaving of your chest was still present, but now it was fueled by want rather than anxiety.
Pulling away slowly, your breathing was heavy. Your eyes searched his, trying to see what he was thinking. What would his reaction to your impulsivity be?
Before your question could be answered, you were being pulled by one of Bob's cousins, urging you to go line up for the bouquet toss.
Bob watched as you were ripped away from him. His hand came up to grab onto you, but his fingers slipped against the fabric of your dress. Your eyes widen, head whipping around to look at him. But just as quick, you broke your gaze.
જ⁀➴
As soon as the door to the guest bedroom clicked shut, you immediately began apologizing.
"Bobby, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, and I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking," you said, hands coming up to your face in an attempt to hide from him.
"Bee," Bob tried to cut in, but you could barely hear him over the sound of your racing heart and rambling words."
"I didn't mean to ruin this. Ruin this weekend and make you feel uncomfortable. Ruin what we have. Our friendship," you kept going, stomach now turning at the thought of losing Bob from your life.
"Bee," he started again, but still you weren't hearing a thing he said.
Your hands now rubbed nervously down your dress, like you were trying to wipe off what had happened earlier that night. "I'm gonna go take my stuff and sleep in the bathroom or something. You don't have to share a bed with me tonight. And if you want me to move out, I will. I'm sorry, I just, I don't know-"
"Bee!" Bob's voice startled you into silence. He stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands, trying to quell your nervous energy.
Bob's hand closed around your wrists. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you looked at your best friend.
"Tonight," he started, hand rubbing softly against yours. "What did the kiss mean?"
He took a deep breath as you just stared at him.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you said, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
"I'm not mad, and I'm not uncomfortable. I just," he took another deep breath before continuing. "I just want to know what it meant to you. Why you did it."
A tear slipped down your cheek at his soft-spoken words.
"I love you," you said quietly as more tears fell from your eyes. "I kissed you because I love you. Because I'm in love with you. I'm sorry, Bobby."
You felt your world crumbling around you. Years of friendship, laughter, and good memories all seemed to blur past you. Surely, when you got back to California, Bob would ask you to move out. The thought made you sick to your stomach.
Bob stared at you, silent. He felt like he was dreaming. All week, he had been trying to tell you how he felt. Been trying to get the words out. And here you were, saying everything he was thinking.
His hands quickly came up to your face, wiping the tears away. You couldn't look at him, eyes closed and body closing in on itself.
"Bee, will you open your eyes, please. I just want to talk to you," Bob pleaded. "I need to tell you something. Need you to look at me."
You shook your head, starting to feel like everything was all too much. Of course, he was still being sweet to you. After everything, after all of what you said and did. The thought made more tears come to your eyes.
"Please, please look at me," he asked again, thumbs now stroking your cheeks. Bob could see the internal debate you were having as your lips pushed deeper into a pout.
But after a few seconds, you opened your eyes. Blinking away the last bit of tears, you tried to look at the man in front of you.
As soon as your eyes met his, Bob smiled at you sweetly. "I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. And I'm sorry about this week. I should've told you how I was feeling, but I thought everything would go okay. That we could just go back to being normal after all this."
Your shoulders relaxed with his admission, your mouth opening just a bit to look at Bob in awe.
"But we can't," you said, voice still small. It made Bob's heart ache thinking about all that you were feeling this week, knowing he was feeling the same way.
"No, I don't think we can." His eyes dropped to your lips for a split second. If you weren't watching him so closely, you would've missed it.
Something in your stomach turned at the thought of kissing him again. Your chest began to rise and fall much like it had earlier.
Still holding your face in his hands, Bob leaned in slowly. Slow enough to let you pull away if this was something you didn't want. Slow enough that seconds felt like minutes.
Finally, your lips met for the second time that night. Less rushed than before and softer. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.
The kiss was sweet. Bob's heart was racing out of his chest, having you like this. He was content letting your lips brush up against each other in a soft manner. But each time you kissed, he got hungrier. It wasn't until you let a soft sound slip past your lips and into his that he pressed into you harder.
Suddenly, Bob was walking you backwards into the bed. You felt one of his hands leave your face and come down to the small of your back, pressing you closer to him.
"This okay?" he asked breathlessly as you nodded, not trusting your voice.
With that, Bob got to work on the zipper at the back of your dress. He felt your hands in his hair, on his arms, pulling him in closer. Finally, the dress dropped and you let it fall to the floor.
Bob's eyes scanned your body. Wearing the prettiest set of black lace underwear and a matching bra, he felt his stomach turn. You were perfect.
Quickly, his hands were all over your body as you fell back with him on the bed. Feeling his hard length grind down on your barely clad heat had you biting down on your lip. Bob worked his mouth against your neck, looking for the spot that would make you moan against him. His licking and biting made your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him even closer if possible.
"Please, Bobby. Need you," you whispered. His head shot up to take you in. Your eyes were blinking quickly, like you were struggling to keep them open. Your mouth parted slightly, like you couldn't take deep enough breaths. Your hair splayed out around you, like you were an angel come down from heaven.
"Want me to touch you?" Bob asked as you whined, head nodding. "Gonna have to be quiet for me, okay? I wanna help you."
"Okay, I'll be good. Promise," you said, eyes searching his. Waiting for his movements to change. Waiting for him to help you feel good.
His hands moved from your hips down to your heat. Only one hand cupping it at first, while the other worked at the back of your bra. Pushing into your underwear, Bob's big hand began to feel you everywhere. His thumb quickly found your clit, and you thought you were seeing stars as he rubbed it softly.
You felt the tightness of your bra loosen, and Bob's other hand quickly moved to take it off you completely. Seconds after, his mouth came down to your pebbled nipple, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it into his mouth.
Your jaw dropped at the feeling. His kisses and ministrations made your hips jump up into his hand. "Need more, wanna feel your fingers," you said softly, trying to keep your promise to him.
Popping his lips from your tits, Bob looked at you with darkened eyes. "Being so good for me. I can feel you, so wet for me," he praised you, but still, his hand made no effort to move further into your heat.
Your brows furrowed at this, and you propped yourself up to look at the man lying above you. "Bobby, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek sweetly.
There was no way he could resist you when you asked so sweetly. His hand made its way towards your opening, stretching your underwear a bit. Bob played with you a bit more, and you whined into the pillow next to you.
"Sorry, honey," he whispered into your ear. "Just love your little pussy so much."
Your jaw dropped at his dirty words and at the feeling of two of his fingers stretching out your heat. They felt so thick, and Bob knew exactly what he was doing, moving them with expert precision. Pushing in slow and deep, reaching your spot almost immediately, your back arched off the bed into his touch.
Bob watched as you crumbled at his touch. It had to be a dream. The way your tits heaved up and down made him dizzy. Your face, now driven into the pillow next to you, silencing your noises, made his cock jump from beneath his trousers. You lying on the bed, almost completely naked, and he still fully dressed, made him bite down on his lip hard.
He was trying to take his time with you. Be gentle. Get to know your body. But every noise that escaped you and every look of longing you shot him made his resolve crumble. He could spend hours like this, with you at his disposal to play with. But sweat beaded down his forehead in restraint. Bob had to know what your tight pussy felt like around his cock.
A hand on his bicep pulled Bob from his thoughts. He felt your pussy clench up at his fingers, and he instantly moved his thumb back up to your clit. The reaction was immediate. Your body curling off the body and into him, Bob leaned into you, taking one of your tits into his mouth again, sucking harshly this time.
"Oh, fuck," you whispered as your orgasm ran through you. You never knew your orgasms could be so intense, but with Bob's constant attention to your body, you had never felt better.
Delicately, he pulled his fingers from your entrance and leaned down to kiss you sweetly.
"You're so beautiful," Bob said breathlessly. Then he brought his fingers up to his mouth, and you felt your pussy throb all over again at the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers. "Taste so good, too," he said, popping his fingers from his mouth. "Can I taste you?"
You nodded, but apparently, this wasn't enough for him anymore.
"Wanna hear you," Bob spoke softly. "Killing me, not being able to hear all your cute noises."
"Sorry," you said bashfully. "Yes, please."
"Don't gotta say sorry. Doing so good for me, my beautiful girl." Bob leaned in to kiss you again, making you feel his want and warmth as he licked into your mouth. His mouth traveled down your body, stopping to suck dark marks into your throat and all over your tits. But you didn't stop him, not really caring about how you would cover them up in the morning. His nips and licks were much more convincing than anything your brain told you.
Finally making his way down to your heat, Bob pushed your underwear to the side. Licking a broad stripe with his flat tongue, he tried to feel all of you. Your thighs worked to close around him, but his strong hands came up to grip them just hard enough to remind you of his strength, but not hard enough to hurt you. Continuing, he kissed all over your heat, much like he had just licked into your mouth. The movements made you dizzy.
Focusing on your clit, you felt one of his hands leave your thigh and dive into your heat again.
"Bobby," you whined. Quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, remembering what you had promised him. He looked up at you, chuckling a bit at your movements. But the vibrations against your heat only made you squirm and cry out more.
Removing his mouth from your heat, he kissed your thighs sweetly.
"Need me to help you, honey?" he asked, voice low and eyes dark as they looked at you.
"Mhm, please," you whispered, still moving your hips against his fingers.
He smiled at your movements. "So needy," he whispered more to himself than anything. "Didn't think you'd be that way."
Your tummy flipped at his admission. Even if he hadn't explicitly said it, just thinking about Bob touching himself to the thought of you made your pulse race like crazy.
Pulling your underwear away from your heat, Bob tossed them across the room. His hands now moved to your waist, picking you up effortlessly, flipping you on your tummy softly.
Your neck craned back, a puzzled look on your face. But he was already meeting you half way, coming up to kiss you again and ask a question.
"This okay, honey?" Bob asked, one hand coming to raise your hips. Another guided a pillow beneath them. Your stomach turned at the thought of what he was about to do.
"Yeah, it's okay," you whispered. He smiled at this, placing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. But soon, his hand was pushing your head into the pillow, tucking your hair behind your ears, making sure you were comfortable. But still, his hand came down to guide you into the plush surface beneath you.
Not seeing Bob and only feeling him was something you never thought you would love. But the way his hands dragged down your body, fingers toying with your body, and firmly kneading your ass made your breathing sharp and shallow. Bob made his way down to your heat once more, licks more confident and sure now.
Sure enough, you whined into the pillow underneath you, pushing your hips back into Bob as he continued to work at your entrance. His tongue pushed in and out of you, sucking harshly. Hands spreading your ass, allowing him to kiss you better, get deeper.
It was quick for you to feel the familiar tug in your tummy return, ready to snap at any moment. Snaking a hand under your tummy and to your clit, Bob worked diligently to make you feel good, rubbing tight, small circles.
Your hand flew back, trying to grasp at anything you could. Your fingers found his golden locks, and you gripped them tightly as you came for the second time that night.
After a few last licks, Bob kissed up your back, letting his body sink into you a bit. It wasn't until his kisses reached your neck that you felt his hard length straining against your ass.
"So good, honey," he whispered, placing sweet kisses against your hair once more. "Gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?"
Soon, he moved to shift off the bed. But you shot up, grabbing his forearm.
"What's wrong?" Bob asked, concern evident on his face as he looked at you. He wondered if it had been too much. He had indulged a little bit, but he thought that you were feeling good. Or maybe he was pulling away too soon, maybe you wanted to cuddle a bit more before he got up. But what you said next made his heart jump.
"Wanna feel you. Do you not want to?" you spoke softly, forehead creasing in on itself.
Bob smiled at your question, coming back into your space, pressing his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss, too. Something about them was so sweet and gentle, but so deep and longing at the same time.
"Course I do, just didn't want to push anything," he spoke, pulling away a bit. "And, I don't have anything here. I didn't bring any condoms," Bob whispered the last bit, like it was a secret.
"I'm clean and on birth control," you offered with a small smile that Bob swore would be the death of him.
"Me too," he said, immediately backtracking at the sound of your giggles. "I mean clean. No birth control."
Your smile grew wider at his words. Even when Bob didn't mean to, he made you laugh, always making you feel good.
"Can I see you? Think it's a little unfair you're still dressed," you teased him. Even with the faint glow of the moon and the soft bedside lamp, you were able to see the way Bob's ears turned pink.
Without a word, he began to unbutton his shirt. Scooching toward him on the bed, your hands made quick work of his belt, button, and zipper. Bob would've laughed at your eagerness if he weren't feeling the exact same way. Kicking off his pants and underwear and whipping the shirt off over his head, Bob stood before. Your tongue peeked out a bit at the sight of him.
His abs are sculpted and molded to perfection; you were able to gawk at them more openly now than a few nights ago. As your eyes traveled further, you saw his V-line, prominent and defined. And his length stood proud in front of you. Chills ran down your spine at the thought of taking all of him. You leaned down, falling on your elbows before him. Kissing his pink tip, your tongue began to kitten lick at his head.
Bob groaned audibly at the sight in front of him. Your ass up, mouth working against his length, and eyes looking up at him for approval. This wasn't real, surely. Any minute now, he would wake up in bed, spoiled underwear once again. But as you moved to take his length further in your mouth, Bob couldn't deny what he was feeling.
Knowing that if you sucked his length much longer, he wouldn't last, Bob softly grasped your head in his hands, moving you away from his length and instead onto the bed like you once were.
Lying back on the bed, you watched as Bob moved over your body. Settling on top of you, you found yourself face-to-face with him. Smiling at him, your eyes met, and you couldn't help but laugh a bit to yourself.
"What's got you so happy?" Bob asked, leaning down to kiss your neck as you let the giggles flow freely. He smiled at you, the kisses sweet rather than searing like they were before.
"I just love you," you whispered. Bob's head shot up, dopey grin now on his face.
"I love you," he whispered back. Leaning down to kiss you again, you thought about how you would never get used to this. Just a few hours ago, you were anxiety-ridden with thoughts of losing your best friend to a dumb mistake. Now, all your nerves were still on fire, but for a different reason. Bob's lips worked against yours until you felt your tummy flip again, and it seemed he felt the same way; one of his hands moved down to grip his length. Guiding himself to your heat, you felt Bob shudder in your embrace, but his lips never left yours.
Bob groaned against your lips as he pushed into you. Only a few inches at first, seeing the way your body would react to him. Your chest heaved, and your eyes screwed shut at the unfamiliar feeling. But your hands pawed at his chest and back, trying to bring him closer to you.
"Doing okay, honey? Feel good?" Bob asked, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.
You whinnied a little as you answered, "Feels good. So good. You're so big."
"You can take it, can't you, honey?" Bob asked, pushing a bit more into you as your jaw dropped at the feeling. He was now kissing up and down your throat again, unable to keep himself away from your soft, dewy skin for too long.
The man felt you pulsed around him. Your heat seemingly needing more from him. Before Bob could ask, you spoke in a breathless whisper.
"More, please. I can take it."
With that, he pushed into you fully. Balls settling against your ass, pelvis meeting yours. His arms came around under your back, bringing you tight into his embrace. Bob made sure to hold onto you, made sure he was taking care of you.
When he started moving, it was filthy. The sounds couldn't be masked as he moved in and out of your heat at a steady pace, deep enough to be hitting your spot in just the right way. Your bodies began to sweat and shine under the soft bedroom light.
You tried biting down on your lip, tried to not let the sounds escape you, but it was no use. The way that Bob moved above you drew out soft, airy noises. Bob saw that you struggled to control yourself and fully feel pleasure, so he took matters into his own hands.
Placing a large hand over your mouth, Bob met your eyes. They shot wide open at first, maybe a flicker of embarrassment, but soon they became droopy again as you focused more on his thrusts into you.
"It's okay, honey," he leaned down to talk near your ear. "Know it feels good. Just gonna help you a little."
You nodded at his words, clenching around his length again. Your moans were now muffled behind his big hand. The feeling of Bob asserting himself over you made you dizzy. You knew he was confident and could take charge if need be, but this was something else. Bob worked with precision, seemingly adjusting to your every move. It wasn't long until his other hand left its spot on your hip and made its way down to your heat once more, circling your clit in what you now learned was your favorite way. His big thumb moved in tandem with his thrusts, and you opened your eyes to look at the man above you.
Bob, seeing the way your eyes glossed over, kissed your lips, briefly moving his hand before placing it back and speaking, "It's okay, I got you. Wanna feel you cum around me."
With that, the knot in your tummy unraveled. Shaking against Bob, you pushed your body as close to his as possible. Still working into you, Bob felt the way you squeezed his length and couldn't hold back anymore, coming to his high with you.
Slowly, Bob moved his hand from your mouth and instead stroked your hair, placing a kiss on your hairline. You smiled at his actions, despite being exhausted from your rigorous activities.
"I love you," Bob told you. He watched as you relaxed against the bed, shifting slightly to hold you better.
"I love you, Bobby. Thank you for inviting me this week," you said sweetly, sharing another kiss with him as he was still nestled inside you, neither of you moving to get up just yet.
He smiled at your words. Thinking back to this week and all that had happened, Bob was grateful you were by his side. From his rambunctious family to the quietness of rural Montana, you fit in perfectly. Bob couldn't wait to bring you back, properly this time.
જ⁀➴
Like always, you and Bob went along with the squad's outstanding Saturday night plans at the Hard Deck, not caring that you had just gotten back to California a few hours prior. Jake grinned at the sight of you walking into the Hard Deck, hand in hand with Bob. He watched as Bob carefully guided you through the crowd of people, delicately holding onto your waist and shielding you from the rowdy patrons.
"Well, well, well," Jake teased as soon as you had both made your way over to the pool table full of aviators. "Looks like my plan worked."
Bob's brows furrowed at this, immediately looking to you.
"No way, Bagman, you aren't getting the credit for this," Phoenix chimed in, abandoning the game of pool.
Now it was your turn to look at Bob with confusion on your face.
"I was the one who sold Bee about the parents thing," Jake argued. You felt your face flush at his admission of your white lie.
"Well, I was the one hyping Bob up for weeks about getting her to come," Phoenix fought back. Bob closed his eyes, not thinking he could survive the look of amusement on your face.
Suddenly, both of your pilots turned to you.
"So who did it?" Phoenix asked. Both you and Bob looked at each other, puzzled.
"Oh come on," Jake said exasperatedly. "You know what were talking about. Who made the first move?"
The squad was silent, watching both you and Bob under a microscope, it seemed. A slight tilt of Bob's head in your direction made Jake cry out triumphantly, pumping his fists into the air.
"I knew it! I knew it! Suck it, Phoenix," Jake whooped as onlookers watched with amusement at his antics.
"Knew it?" Bob asked, almost scared for the answer.
Jake grinned at the both of you. "Yup!" he said, popping the ending syllable in a way that made Nat's eye roll even farther back into her head. "I knew Bee would make the first move. She's gutsy! No offense, Baby on Board."
"Jake," you chastised, but knew the nickname was all in good fun now.
"Where's my twenty dollars? My wallet seems to be missing something," Jake faux-questioned, turning his attention to Phoenix.
Digging into her back pocket and sifting through her wallet, she slapped a crisp twenty-dollar bill into Jake's outstretched hand with a groan. Jake almost giggled in delight, a sound you had only heard come out of him once or twice.
"I just want to say," he started, raising his glass to the group, "that I, Jake Seresin, best pilot among us, was instrumental in ending our suffering. That is, watching these two dance around each other forever like little lovesick puppies."
The group groaned at his statement, but raised their drinks nonetheless. You giggled into Bob's shoulder, and he smiled widely at the sound. His eyes found yours and saw a playful look on your face. Before he knew it, you leaned into his space, pressing your lips to his.
The group watched as he melted into your touch, half-cheering and half-whistling.
Pulling away slightly, you smiled at the man next to you. Bob's cheeks were now dusted with pink, but he still wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you close into his hold.
sorted a-z by fandom & a-z by character
╰┈➤ key: smut ꨄ, fluff ౨ৎ, angst ✶
D C U જ⁀➴
clark kent
𖦹 figure you out (mini series 1/?) | 5.9k ౨ৎ ✶
leading a double life wasn't easy. your heightened senses did seem to make everything a little clearer. well that was until they didn't.
M A R V E L જ⁀➴
bob reynolds
coming soon!
james 'bucky' barnes
coming soon!
joaquín torres
coming soon!
johnny storm
coming soon!
T O P G U N જ⁀➴
bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw
𖦹 puppy love (one shot) | 11.1k ꨄ ౨ৎ
adopting a retired police dog from the local station seemed like a good idea. late night cuddles on the couch, early morning barks to start the day, and long runs in the park are now a normal part of bradley's routine. but what happens when his furry friend takes off one morning, leash slipping through his hand, and instead barreling towards someone new?
jake ‘hangman’ seresin
𖦹 talk too much (one shot) | 8k ꨄ ✶
ever since becoming a pilot for the navy, you had earned the call sign chatter box. but there was one pilot that never seemed to mind, until he did.
robert ‘bob’ floyd
𖦹 ruin the friendship (one shot) | 14.3k ꨄ ౨ৎ
bob floyd was in a pickle. his ma and pa were expecting him to bring someone home for his older brother’s wedding. are you up for the challenge of being his fake girlfriend for the week? or will it ruin your friendship?
summary: ever since becoming a pilot for the navy, you had earned the call sign chatter box. but there was one pilot that never seemed to mind, until he did.
warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, soft dom jake, slight sub reader, language, jake is a little mean (but he makes up for it), friends/roomies to lovers, no use of y/n
word count: 8k
a/n: i'm back! jumping into a new fandom and i'm hoping to post whenever i have free time. thanks for supporting me!
masterlist
your call sign: chatter box
Being a part of the Dagger Squad was one of the best things that happened to you. You were a young, talented flyer; it was evident to anyone who saw you in the sky. You quickly made your way to the TOPGUN program, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but determined nonetheless.
On your first day, you were paired up with Jake Seresin. He had squinted his eyes at you, like he couldn't believe you had made it to the same program as him. But as soon as you took to the sky, all assumptions about you were gone. He was quick to correct his cocky attitude, especially after you flashed a sweet smile his way after both of you dusted the other team in training that day.
Jake and you became quick friends, and he learned quickly why your call sign was Chatter Box. It wasn't that you were constantly talking; no, you knew how to control yourself around admirals and other higher-ups, but when you flew, it was hard to tell whether your jet or your mouth was moving faster. You knew how to make friends anywhere and always managed to make new recruits feel welcome. Bright smiles and genuine questions were a constant with you. Jake swore you were the friendliest person he had met.
So, when you reunited with him in San Diego for a coveted, top-secret mission, you were quick to sweep him into a tight hug. The other aviators watched as you fired question after question in Jake's direction. He smiled the entire time.
Jake had grown to miss your constant chatter in the few years you had been a part. Quickly after you both had graduated from TOPGUN, you were both called to different parts of the world and lost touch. But seeing you again, here of all places — he should've known you'd be called for this mission — was like fate. It wasn't that Jake didn't have a lot of people he could call friends in the Navy, but he hadn't ever clicked with a pilot as quick as he did with you.
The squad saw how close you and Jake were, and honestly, to them, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. Jake was a cocky, stubborn, headstrong, self-absorbed, know-it-all. You were sunshine in a person, all smiles and chitchat to anyone who even glanced your way. But when you were around, Jake seemed to soften. The constant talk thrown his way and little comments every few seconds would've driven him crazy if it came from anyone else but you. They were surprised that he put up with it, let alone fed into it. Always asking you about the latest TV show you were watching or how your family was doing, hell, even the weather could get your motor mouth running. And yet, he never shied away from it, away from you.
You were used to noticing people grimacing or tapping their feet as you made conversation. You expected it at this point. But during your time at TOPGUN, Jake had never once tried to escape your constant chatter. He always made eye contact with you, would hum along with the story you were telling, and even barked out his signature laugh at times. It all made you feel a little mushy inside. Even if you'd never admit it to anyone else, Jake's constant attention during your time together had given you the self-confidence to continue being your outgoing self. It was hard at times to stay bright in the Navy, but with Jake by your side, you never found yourself feeling anything but happy.
It was a no-brainer to ask you to be his roommate when Maverick had told the squad they would be a permanent fixture in San Diego until further notice. Sure, he could've asked Mickey or even Bradley, but everyone on the squad had their own little quirks that he just didn't think he would be able to get past. Bob seemed innocent enough, but one comment about how he had never taken less than two hours at the grocery store was enough for Jake to be driven straight to your arms.
Living together had proven to be even more fun and stress-free than Jake had ever imagined. You had standing Wednesday pizza and movie nights that Jake looked forward to every week. Sure, he had to sit through a lot of chick flicks, but seeing your heart eyes at the sappy stories made it worth it. But it was only because Jake liked to see you happy, not because of the way that your breath would catch without fail when the first kiss or love confession happened. Your lips parting just a bit, and your eyes would go wide, and he didn't know if you had realized it, but you always fiddled with the dainty charm on your necklace. No, he just liked the pizza and the way you let him pick out whatever toppings he wanted. That was definitely his favorite part about Wednesday nights with you.
Jake had a few habits, too, that you didn't seem to mind at the end of the day. He was always up before you, way earlier than you. But he made sure to be quiet as he snuck out of the house for his morning workout. You would only be awoken a few hours later to the smell of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen.
This was Jake's favorite part of the day. Reading over briefing notes from Maverick and having some hot coffee was a great way to settle into his mornings.
"Good morning, sleepy head," he called out. Jake always greeted you as such in the mornings. You figured your bedhead had something to do with it.
"Good morning, Jake," you quietly said back. You were always so soft in the mornings, he thought. The way you padded down the hallway, no sense of urgency, just one slipper in front of the other. And the way you always came into the kitchen looking like you had just rolled out of bed. Your baggy tees and sleep shorts were always a little askew as you reached up into the cabinet for your coffee mug. Jake always took a minute to watch you during this part. You picked a different mug every morning, something he noticed a few weeks into living with you. The way you stretched to reach your coveted cup of choice was cat-like, your shirt and shorts rising just a bit, showing more skin than Jake felt okay seeing as just your roommate.
"Sleep well?" he asked you, not looking up from his laptop as you poured yourself a cup of the coffee he had brewed for the both of you.
"Mmhm," you hummed into your mug. Eyes closing at the first sip, letting the warm liquid flow down your throat. Jake's eyes came up to watch this part of your little routine, always returning to his screen before you could open them back up and catch him. "Anything of note this morning in Mav's announcements?" you asked him as you moved around the kitchen, beginning to make breakfast for the both of you.
"Actually, yeah. Something about a new op in a few months. Says we're going to start training this Monday," he told you with a look of concentration on his face. He looked up to see you staring just as intensely at the eggs you had just cracked in the pan, as he was staring at his laptop. He wanted to smooth out the crease between your brows with a firm, calming fix of his thumb. Instead, he opted to quell your worries with his words. "I'm sure it's nothing too serious. Nothing we can't handle anyway."
You nodded at this and began to settle back into your routine. Jake didn't miss the way your throat bobbed, though, or the way your hands were a little less steady as you sliced the oranges for breakfast.
"Hey," he called out to you, pulling you out of your own mind for a second. "We'll be okay, I promise. No use in worrying about it until Mav tells us the whole story. Plus, we gotta go grocery shopping later and I'm gonna need your organization and that list thingy you always have."
"My Notion list?" you put down the knife as you faced him now. "I don't understand why you need me to go with you every week. And why does it take two hours every time? My list is very organized, sectioned, and everything."
"I just get a little distracted," he shrugged. You rolled your eyes at this, but he didn't miss the small smile that crossed your lips as you went back to slicing the oranges. Turns out, two-hour grocery trips weren't as bad as Jake had thought they were.
જ⁀➴
You were a month out until Operation Black Jay was set to take place. You had been put on the same team as Jake, like always. Even Maverick couldn't deny the great back-and-forth in the way you worked together. Flying together always had its perks. You were the only one on the squad who could keep up and predict Jake's every move. You didn't mind following his lead in the sky as you were already so in tune with him. The squad was always amazed at the way you both flew in sync, but even more than that, they were impressed at the way you and Jake talked the entire run and always managed to hit your marks. Your chatter didn't seem to bother him one bit; instead, it was like your voice and constant talking made him even sharper, move quicker, fly with a freedom that didn't come easy.
But for the past few weeks, Jake had been thrown off center. It came after Maverick started training with both of you as the enemy pilot. He had come out of nowhere, driving you away from Jake in seconds. You tried to avoid him, but it was to no avail.
"Maybe if you focused more on shaking me off your tail than talking with Hangman, you'd still be alive, Chatter Box. You can't be distracted like that again, pilot," Maverick half-chastised, half-teased you.
"Mav, it's how she concentrates!" Rooster chimed in on the channel.
"Yeah, come on, Mav. She can't help it. Especially when Hangman is such a dedicated, attentive listener," Phoenix snickered over the same channel. You could feel your cheeks flushing at her comment. Damn Chili's bottomless margaritas and your loose lips. You had sworn Phoenix to secrecy after she had told you about your ramblings the night before. You covered your face as she recalled the constant talk of Jake walking around shirtless in your shared apartment. And to horrify you even further, Phoenix told you it wouldn't have been so bad if your recollection of his V-line wasn't so accurate and descriptive.
But while you were drowning in embarrassment from your friends, Jake heard something entirely different. You were distracted, distracted by him, and that let Maverick catch you off guard; he had gotten you killed. And to make things worse, Phoenix had pointed out the one thing he had always known but didn't really realize. You were talkative, but with Jake even more so than anyone on the squad. If you had been paired up with Rooster, maybe you could've gotten away from Maverick. Bradley was always good about getting you to focus, but Jake couldn't help it. You talked, he listened.
You had sent him a thumbs-up as you strapped into your jet. Maverick was still drilling you on the various runs and situations you might be in. And today, he would be taking to the air again, going after both of you. Jake was determined to make this run one that counted. One where you both came out alive.
Jake had been trying. Trying to quiet you down, not feed into you as much. He just wanted you to focus, and he was your main distraction. But like always, you had found something to talk about.
"Can we get olives on the pizza tonight? I know you don't especially like them, but we could just do them on half. I've just really been craving that this week." It hadn't even taken 5 minutes to be in the air and you were off.
"Yeah, sure. Turn coming up, stay locked," he quipped back. Jake didn't want to ignore you completely, trying to remind you to stay focused.
"Yay, okay! Wow, that was easier than I thought it would be. I think the last time I brought up olives on our pizza, you fake gagged for like 10 minutes. It was dedication, I'll admit that," you didn't bother responding to his command verbally. You always followed Jake through the air in perfect sync; today was no different.
The airway was quiet for a few seconds, and Jake sighed in relief. Maybe you were finally focusing, looking for Maverick, realizing the stakes at hand.
"And I know I picked last week, but I've been really meaning to watch People We Meet on Vacation. I just finished the book, and I've been putting off watching the movie until I was done. But now I am! And I think it would be so fun for us to watch. What do you think, Jake?" your voice came through his comms, and he felt his heart rate increasing. Maverick was nowhere to be seen, and you were worried about what he thought about the movie tonight, not about the mission facing you.
The Dagger Squad chuckled at your constant ramblings to Jake. But as they watched you fly, you never strayed from Jake's path.
"How does she do it? I think everything just runs a million miles an hour for Chatter Box. Mind and mouth," Mickey joked as the rest of the squad hummed in agreement. Their laughter and comments about your nature were quickly stopped as Maverick appeared next to you and Hangman.
"Surprise, pilots!" he called out, and you could tell he was grinning under his helmet.
"Break! Formation 2B!" Jake barked through the comms. You were quick to follow his orders, dropping in elevation and darting away from Maverick.
"If that doesn't sound good, though, we could watch that one action one you've been talking about. Ooh, or the new one with Timothée Chalamet! I remember hearing Bob talking about it a few days ago at lunch," you chimed in, not even seconds after Maverick's appearance. Jake's stomach churned at the thought of this run going awry again.
"Lost tail. Confirm position Chatter Box, over," Jake's voice came through your channel.
Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior. "Um, coming back into formation. Tail lost, over."
"Copy, let's gun it through the canyon, try to lose Mav before he finds us again," Jake's voice was firm. But his heart rate wasn't slowing down anytime soon. Not until you were back down on the ground, safe.
"Sounds good, lead the way. Over," you replied. Letting out a deep breath, you tried not to think too much about Jake's behavior. It only took a few seconds for your voice to come through the channel once more. "We don't have to watch my movie or get the olives, sorry, I just- Oh shit! Mav's incoming, 3 o'clock! Breaking to 4D!"
Jake's eyes flew to Maverick's jet, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "Copy, going into formation 4D."
"Are you mad at me?"
Were you seriously asking this? Right now?
"Because if you're mad, that's okay! We can talk it out, and I won't suggest olives again. I know I don't like it when you suggest pineapple, so I guess it's only fair."
"Chatter Box-"
"And we don't have to keep watching rom coms. Honestly, I'm surprised at how many you've sat through at this point. I thought for sure after Legally Blonde you would be done."
"Any sign of Maverick? I think-"
"But can we please grab a pint of that one ice cream we both like on the way back tonight? I've been thinking about that today, too, ever since I saw Payback eating a Snickers earlier today. Sorry for exposing you, Payback, but it did look really yummy."
"Confirm position, have you spotted Maverick?"
"Or we could save it for this weekend. Like a little treat for a week of perfect runs, y'know! We've been doing so well recently."
Jake hadn't realized it, but you had made it out of the canyon. You had finished the run. No mishaps, maybe a close call or two, but everything was on the up and up. Like you had said, it's been a perfect week of runs so far. So why did his chest still feel so tight? Why was he gripping his controls like he was afraid they'd run away from him? Why wasn't his heart slowing down?
You touched down on the tarmac and practically jumped out of your jet. The team had lined up near your and Hangman's jets for the quick debrief Maverick would give.
"Nice job aviators-"
"God, do you ever shut up and just focus?" Jake's words sliced through the praise Maverick was about to hand out to both of you. "It's like you can't help yourself! Mav's on our tail, and all you can talk about is ice cream or pizza! I mean, what the hell was that? You're not invested! You don't care, and it's so fucking obvious, I don't get it! I'm trying to get us back down, back to the base, make sure you're safe. And what are you doing? Fucking talking! Constantly! I just-"
"That's enough, Seresin!" Maverick's commanding voice boomed. It was like Jake had been shaken awake at the call. His eyes finally met yours, and what he found was awful.
Tears were pooling in your eyes, one slipping down your cheek as you tried to blink them away. Your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth, probably to stop the wobbling of your chin. And your left hand had traveled up to your dainty little necklace, playing with the charm, like you were trying to distract yourself from Jake's fire. Jake's heart broke in a million pieces as your eyes met his for a fraction of a second before returning to the ground, the tears seemed to flow freely now.
"Drop and give me five hundred for the outburst. The rest of you are dismissed for the day," Maverick's voice was steadier this time, but just as biting.
Jake's eyes widened as you began to turn away from the scene. Not even staying to rip into him the way he deserved. "Wait, I didn't-"
"Drop! Now! Make it a thousand!" Maverick stepped in his line of sight, blocking any connection Jake might be able to make with you right now.
You wanted nothing more than to run to the locker rooms, strip out of your flight suit, and take a scalding hot shower. But just as you were about to escape, you felt a large hand wrap around your shoulders and pull you into a tight embrace. And you broke. Standing in the hanger, your tears were flowing freely against the kaki uniform that was pressed against your cheek. One hand rubbed soothing patterns into your back while the other wrapped around your head, providing some protection from prying eyes.
It felt like your whole world was coming down on you. Was that really what Jake thought of you? That you weren't invested, weren't focused? Just because you talked? And you thought he liked it, liked when you talked. Maybe you read all his smiles wrong, when you should've been looking to see if they held more pity than sincerity.
Hiccups began to come up from your throat, and the arms that were wrapped around you just tightened.
"It's okay. I know that was rough, but you're okay. None of what he said was true. You're going to be okay, and I'm right here for you."
At his words, you began to sob harder. Your body was shaking now.
"Do you think we can move to the locker room? I want to sit with you, make sure you're okay. Does that sound okay?"
You just nodded, your hand gripping onto his uniform even tighter as you fell apart. Guiding you through the hanger and into the locker rooms, you felt the strong arms that were holding you up begin to loosen and help you to sit up against the lockers.
"You're already doing so much better. Breathing so good. You're going to be okay, I promise."
He was right, the sobs had started to subside. The hiccups disappeared as you drew in deep breaths. The shaking began to turn back into a steady, strong body as his big hands rubbed up and down your back and cradled you in his hold.
After a few minutes like this, a few minutes of catching your breath, you untangled yourself and looked up at the man who held you so dearly.
"Doing better? I'm sorry, that really sucked," Bob's face was screwed up and looked a little sour as he looked down at you.
You just nodded, unable to find the words for how you were feeling.
"I can go grab Phoenix, she can help you out of your flight suit and rinse off. I know you must-"
"Please don't go yet." Your voice was the quietest Bob had ever heard.
"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'm right here," he said, nodding his head. You nudged back into his hold, and he felt a new batch of tears begin to soak his shirt again.
જ⁀➴
You were thankful you packed such a good go bag. Maverick had given the squad Thursday and Friday off after everything that happened. Said everyone needed to calm down and unwind for a few days. Phoenix met you and Bob in the locker room a few minutes after he had managed to calm you down. She ushered both of you out to Bradley's jeep, ignoring your protests and insisting you would stay with the three of them for the long weekend.
And you were grateful for that. Going back to yours seemed too daunting right now. Having space away from Jake would be good. At least that's what you were trying to tell yourself as the countless calls and texts rolled in throughout the weekend. You hadn't looked at them or listened to the voicemails either. But it was Sunday morning, and you knew you would have to face Jake sooner rather than later.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Phoenix asked as you loaded your things into the back of Bradley's jeep.
"I'm sure, Nix. I'll be okay, I promise," you grasped her hands and squeezed them tightly.
"Yeah, and I'll be there just in case any ass-kicking does need to happen," Bradley chimed in with a shit-eating grin that made you both laugh.
"You'll be okay. I know he didn't mean it, you guys will be okay," Bob said sweetly. He always balanced all of the hot-headed, impulsive pilots so well.
Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thank you for everything. You're the sweetest ever, Bobby, seriously." As you pulled back, you saw the subtle blush creep up his neck. He just shook his head and gave you a bashful smile.
"Ready?" Bradley asked as he started the car. You nodded and climbed into the passenger's seat. Waving bye to your friends, you were off, not quite sure if you were ready to face Jake yet.
Bradley didn't grill you about what you would say to Jake when you got home or how you were feeling about everything on the drive over. Instead, he just turned the radio on and let the wind flow around you. It whipped your hair in every which way, but it was nice to feel the freedom of sitting in Bradley's passenger seat, just letting the world go by around you. His silence was something you liked about him; he was always so grounded and careful. It was admirable, especially to someone like you.
Soon enough, Bradley stopped outside your small rental house. He helped you with your bags and walked you to the front door, almost letting you turn the key, but before you could do so, he wrapped an arm around your waist and then your shoulders. It was sweet. You could feel every bit of Bradley's emotions in the hug. Telling you to be strong, to not back down, but that it was also okay to call for help and to cry.
"Good luck, call us if you need anything."
"I will Roo, thank you again."
"I mean it seriously. I will take any opportunity to smack Hangman around," his grin told you he wasn't being serious, well, at least not completely.
"Okay, okay. I'll call if I need any muscle," you giggled at the man. He nodded and squeezed your shoulder one last time before turning to walk back to his car.
When you entered the house, everything was a mess. It seemed as if a tornado had been wreaking havoc in the living room, the kitchen, the hallways, and Jake's room. The only thing that had been left untouched was your space. You made a beeline for your room, slipping off your clothes and starting your shower. If Jake were sticking to the schedule for your Sundays together, he would be at the grocery store for another hour or so. That gave you more than enough time to take a nice, long shower.
The hot water was refreshing, like a nice cleanse from this weekend. You knew in your heart that something else was going on, something else had caused Jake to act like that. But it didn't mean it hurt any less.
Jake stumbled through the front door, grocery bags in tow. Without you to shop with him, Jake had been more efficient than usual, already back at your shared place in under 45 minutes. He took a minute to set down the groceries on the kitchen counter, and it was then that he heard the shower running down the hall. You were home.
Like a madman, he ran around the apartment cleaning everything. He hadn't expected you to come back so soon. God, he was such a dick, took out his frustration on you for no good reason. After his push-ups, Maverick had sat him down to take a look at the flight path you had run that day. You were reactive, smart, and focused. You flew better than Jake had, taking each turn with an eased precision. Maverick hadn't said anything the entire time, just let Jake stew in his stupidity.
The entire weekend had been torture for him. He half expected you to ignore him the entire time you were home, but when he got back to an empty apartment, he knew he had messed up big time. Jake tried calling you, texting you, checking your location. He just had to know you were okay.
It was about the 5th voicemail he had left you. His eyes were red and raw, and his voice a little shaky. His large body had been sprawled out on the couch; he was camping out in your living room just in case you decided to come home.
"Hey, just calling to see if you're okay. Bobby texted me that you're staying with them, which is good. I'm glad you're with them," he sighed, trying to stay composed.
But the thought of you not even wanting to be home with him broke his heart. Not wanting to talk to him. To try and work things out.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, honey. I know I fucked up, and I know you didn't deserve that. I took out my stress on you, and that's not okay. Please just come home. Please. I want to talk to you. I just want to-" The beeping from his phone signaled that Jake was out of time. He slammed his phone down on the coffee table in front of him.
Jake spent days like that. Grieving your relationship, grieving what could've been. It was hard for him to admit, but Jake had fallen for you. From the early-morning scramble you did to get out of the house on time, he remembers watching you hop around the house in one shoe, keys in hand, always managing to forget something. The way you would sit on the couch and read for hours on end during the weekends. More often than not, he would join you for a bit, take your feet, rest them on his lap, and give you a foot rub on occasion. Other times, you would complain that he was purposefully trying to tickle you, so you swung around and rested your head in his lap instead. The way that your eyes always found his during a joke, like you were looking to see his reaction and share that moment with him. How you would always glue yourself to his side during busy nights at the Hard Deck, either looping a finger to his belt or guiding his hand to rest on your hip as you maneuvered throughout the crowded space. Jake wasn't dumb; he didn't miss all of these things as they were happening right in front of him. But he never thought he would lose you like this. That one day, all of it would just stop, disappear forever.
So when he heard the shower running in the distance, Jake made sure to get his shit together.
He heard the shower stop running just as he had finished folding the throw blankets in the living room. His heart was hammering in his chest. Would you come out of your room? Talk to him? Or would you lock yourself away for the night? Ignore him? Maybe you just came back to get all your things. To pack everything up and leave.
His thoughts were cut short at the sound of your slippers; the familiar sound was music to his ears. Your hair was still wet, you were in an oversized Navy shirt, and your sleep shorts, and your eyes were a little red and puffy, something that was definitely his doing.
"Hey," you said.
"I am so sorry, honey." Jake saw the way your eye began to well up at his apology. He took a step forward, not wanting to pressure you, but also needing to hold you so badly. "Can I... Can we talk? I'm not sure if you got my messages, but I want to talk to you. I want to apologize."
You nodded your head as another tear slipped down your cheek. Making your way over to the couch, Jake hesitated for a moment before settling next to you.
Just as he was about to start his speech, your voice broke through the silence. "Why'd you say that, Jake? I thought," Your voice was fragile-sounding, and you took a deep breath before continuing. "I thought you liked it when I talked to you. I thought it made you fly better; you always told me you fly better with me. I'm sorry I didn't-"
"Don't you dare say sorry," Jake was quick to cut you off. "I'm sorry. I was a jerk, and all those things I said, I didn't mean them. I know it's not an excuse, I know that, but I've been so worried about this mission. I don't... I don't know what I would do if I were the reason you didn't make it back safe."
"What?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the man sitting next to you. His hands were twitching at his sides, like he was aching to reach out and hold something. To hold you. Slipping your hands into his, you started again, "Jake, there's no universe where I don't make it back because of you. You make me better. You make me want to come back down."
At your admission, Jake's throat tightened. "I just... This mission is different. I'm leading us, and I'm responsible for you. I don't know what I would do if... If something happened and I didn't tell you." Again, you were confused by his words. The look on your face urged him to continue. "I... I don't know what I would do if something happened to you and I didn't tell you how I felt. If we never even got to try. If I never got to kiss you or hold you or tell you how much I love you."
Jake heard your breath hitch. Your mouth parted and eyes wide. Your fingers found your necklace once more. His eyes found yours, then they flickered down to your lips, then back up to you. Inching closer to him, you nodded your head at him. That's all it took.
His hands grasped your face, bringing you forward and into his hold. The kiss was gentle, but hungry. Jake kissed you like you would leave any second, like this wasn't real. And to him, it didn't feel like it. Your soft lips were even better than he had dreamt about. And the way your eyelashes fluttered shut almost undid him.
After a particularly bruising kiss of his lips, you gasped into his mouth. Jake took the opportunity to push further into your mouth, to take all that you were giving him. At this, your hands flew to his shirt, to his hair, just trying to hold onto something, something to keep yourself grounded.
"Jake," he heard you whisper as he started kissing down your neck. His hands now wander down your side, slipping under the old tee you were wearing, finding purchase at the softness of where your tummy meets your hips. His lips lifted off of you as he looked into your eyes, hands never loosening.
"I'm sorry, honey. Let me make it up to you. Can we try this? I promise I'll be good, I'll take care of you." With each word that left his lips, you felt the throbbing in between your legs grow stronger and stronger. You nodded, and he was back on you. His lips tracked down your throat, taking his time to make you squirm in his hold. His hands inched further up underneath your shirt, and he looked at you for permission.
"Yes, please. Touch me, please," your voice soft and breathless. Jake could've sworn he was dreaming. His rough hands met no resistance as they crawled up your torso, his cock throbbing when he felt your pebbled nipples, no bra covering them. At the first roll of them in between his fingers, you whined and pushed your hips into the couch.
Jake sank off the couch and knelt in front of you, tugging your shirt off as he continued to worship you. After you threw the tee onto the ground, he was quick to grab your hips, tugging you toward him. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples as his hand tugged at the other. He hovered over you, and all you could do was arch up into his hold. His free hand slithered down the front of your shorts, and upon feeling your heat, Jake groaned.
You were soft in his mouth. Jake swore he could spend hours flicking your tits until you were squirming from overstimulation. Seeing how reactive you were to his movement was nothing compared to his fantasies of having you like this. Your whines were quiet, and your eyes rolled back. But that would have to wait for another time.
Feeling how wet you were, Jake sucked harder around your nipple, squeezing and tugging around your other boob harshly. Grinding into the couch seemed like his only salvation as his fingers dipped lower and lower into your underwear. His middle finger teased your entrance as his thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles as you continued to arch into his hold.
"Please, Jake. Need you to touch me more, please," your voice came out in a small whisper. God, you were perfect. He didn't even have to ask you to tell him what you wanted. Saying please like the sweet girl you were. It was only fair that he rewarded you.
Sinking a finger into your heat, your jaw dropped at the stretch. "Feel good, honey?" he asked, and you immediately nodded your head. "That's good, being so good for me. Want me to finger this little pussy 'till you come around me? Want me to take care of you?"
"Yes, yes. Please take care of me," you gasped at his words. Core pulsing around his digit at the way he was talking to you.
"Anything for you, honey. I'll take good care of you," he groaned, feeling the way you tightened around him. Watching your face twist with pleasure was his new favorite sight. His mouth latched onto your nipple again as he sank another finger into your entrance. Your whines were music to his ears as he continued to work on your clit.
Pleasure was building up in your belly, and you didn't know how much longer you could hold on like this. Sure, you had imagined what kissing Jake might have felt like or the way he would hold you as he fucked into you, but seeing him on his knees, worshipping you, was something else entirely. Your hips chased his movements, and you made the mistake of glancing down at his own hips. They were flush against the couch, rubbing in a firm and steady pace. You clenched around his digits at the thought of him inside of you, fucking you in that steady rhythm.
"Gonna come for me, honey? I can feel your tight, little pussy gripping me. You can come, it's okay," he said in between kisses to your neck.
You hummed at his words. "Okay...Okay. Gonna come, Jake. Oh gosh." Your fingers buried themselves into his hair, tugging as you arched in his hold. The knot in your tummy unraveled as he continued to kiss all over your body.
Jake watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, how you tugged your lip between your lips, the way your perky tits rose and fell in shallow breaths. He couldn't wait to see what you looked like falling apart on his cock. The way your eyes would roll back as it sank into you. How you would grip his arms as he pushed in, inch by inch.
"Gotta have you, baby, please. Need you so bad. I'm about to explode in my shorts if I can't have you," he confessed to you, lips tugging the skin around your jaw.
"Yes, Jake, please. Need you too."
Upon your admission, Jake scooped you up into his arms and charged down the hallway. There was no way your first time together was going to be on the couch you had gotten off Facebook Marketplace. He'd probably have you ass up on it another night, face digging into the cushions. Another thing to look forward to for Wednesday movie nights. But for now, he wanted to show you how much you matter to him. He wanted to take care of you.
Lying you down on your soft sheets, Jake tugged your bottoms off, kissing around your inner thighs as he worked himself out of his shorts and shirt. You propped yourself up on the back of your forearms and watched the sight. Giggling to yourself, Jake's eyes met yours. But as soon as his shorts dropped to the ground, your giggles stopped. To say Jake was well-endowed would be an understatement.
"Not laughing anymore, huh, honey," he teased you as he caged your body around his.
"Wasn't laughing," you huffed. "You're just a little eager, is all, makes me smile."
Jake narrowed his eyes at the mischievous look on your face. "I got another thing that will probably make you smile," he grinned at you. You rolled your eyes at his cocky attitude, but still held a small smile on your face. "Got condoms in here, honey?" he asked as he reached over you and tugged the drawer of your nightstand open.
"No, but it's okay. I'm on birth control and clean. If you're okay with it?" you bit down on your bottom lip, a little nervous for his response.
His eyes found yours quickly. "Oh, if I'm okay with it?" You just hummed, avoiding his eyes. "I'm okay with that, honey. I wouldn't mind feeling your tight, warm pussy around my dick. Can only imagine what it'll feel like when you come around me."
"Jake!" you cried out, cheeks flushing at his vulgar words. But just as you were about to continue to chastise him, you felt one of his hands guiding his member towards your entrance. And soon, all the air was sucked out of you.
Pushing into you made Jake's eyes roll back into his head for a few second, but he was quick to put his focus back on your face, your body. On the way he saw the veins on his cock pulse as it pushed deeper into you. Or the way your face screwed up a bit, mouth open though, giving him the perfect in. He kissed you hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and he felt the effects of his actions immediately at the clench of your pussy around him.
"Fuck, honey. Feel so perfect. Pussy's all ready for me, feels so good," he groaned in your ear as the last inch of him sank into you. His heavy balls resting on your ass, his fingers gripping your hips. You could tell he wanted to move, but held back. "Feeling good? Want you to feel good. This is for you, okay."
His words made your heart beat a little quicker. And the way he kissed the top of your forehead didn't help either. Soon, Jake's mouth made its way down to your cheeks, to your nose, to your lips. You kissed him deeply, humming into his mouth. He felt your legs wrap around his waist and a slight nod of your head.
"Ready? You can tell me to stop anytime, honey. I want to take care of you," he kissed your lips one last time before he started moving in and out of your wet pussy. Groaning, Jake dropped his face into your neck as he moved his hips in and out.
He was slow at first, taking the time to let you adjust, to see how you reacted to his body. But after a few minutes of working you on his cock, Jake's right hand left your hip and started playing with your tits. This elicited a whine of his name from your mouth, as it was ever the sensitive area for you. Picking up the pace, Jake felt the way you began to grab onto him. Arching into his hold, trying to meet the rhythm of his cock sinking into you. You needed more.
"Please, Jake. Need more," you gasped.
"Yeah? Need more? Want me to fuck you harder?" His words made your mouth fall open. The way he talked to you was so foreign, but not unwelcomed.
"Mhm, please."
"Okay, honey. I've got you. Gonna fuck you the way you want, the way your little pussy needs." With that, his hips began snapping into you, grinding the same rhythm that you saw earlier on the couch.
The weight of his body on yours was heavenly; you could feel the thick muscle working against you. Your clit hits the perfect spot in his firm stomach. His hands grip your hips, hard. Surely there will be bruises tomorrow, but it will be worth it.
The bed creaks at Jake's pace, and he throws an arm above you, holding onto the headboard with a white-knuckle grip. He watches the way your tits bounce with every thrust, nipples all perky and red from his teasing earlier. But the way that his cock disappears into your entrance makes his stomach churn. You're taking him so well; your noises are music to his ears.
Sure enough, after a roll of his hips, you grip onto him, tugging him closer to you. Jake's arms wrap around you as he pistons in and out, the new angle making your moans grow louder and louder with each thrust. Bringing his thumb down to your clit, makes the pressure in your tummy snap.
Jake revels in the feeling of your nails scraping down his back, the way your legs shake around his waist, and most of all, the way you say his name, whispering it so soft and sweet. That makes the thread snap in him as he pumps his load into your soft, warm pussy. His hips slow down and he kisses all over your hairline, whispering sweet nothings to you.
"Did so good for me, honey. Felt so good. Gonna pull out, start us a bath, okay?" he asked in between kisses to your face. Humming at his words, he ducked down to kiss your lips one last time before pulling out and running to start a bath for the both of you.
જ⁀➴
The squad wasn't the least bit surprised when they saw Jake fusing over your flight suit and helmet on Monday before our trial run. You swatted his arms away from your head, but he went right back to tightening your chin strap.
"So, he finally told her," Bradley said with a hum.
"Took both of them long enough," Phoenix groaned. "I swore if I hear another story about Jake did this for me this weekend, or Jake did that, isn't he so sweet? I was gonna barf." The squad cackled at her imitation of one of your love-sick rants. But it would go unknown to the two of you who were meters away from the squad.
"Jake, it's too tight now. I feel like my teeth are glued together," you complained as he fiddled with the straps on your helmet.
"Good, that means it won't come flying off or rattle," he grinned down at you, patting your head. You rolled your eyes, but he was being quite cute. After your bath last night, he had ordered takeout from your favorite place in San Diego, and you finally got to watch the new rom-com on your list. He never left your side the entire night, and you're pretty sure the deliveryman thought you were in a hostage situation with the way Jake was holding onto your hip. But true to his word, he took care of you. Talked to you. Made you feel better about everything that happened the week prior.
Not even twenty-four hours later, he was back to fussing about you and your safety.
Jake saw you squint up at him through your visor, and chin strapped be damned, he almost unclipped it to pull your helmet off and kiss you. Instead, he opted to smoothing down your shoulder, squeezing up and down.
"Ready to kill it, baby? Week two of perfect runs," he asked with a teasing smile.
"Sir, yes, sir! Maybe I could lead this time, y'know cause I'm so reactive and quick and-"
"Not happening. You follow me, I need you looking out for my behind," Jake huffed.
"Mm, not a bad view," you teased with a wink. Jake just narrowed his eyes at you as you began to laugh to yourself.
"Alright, love birds! Let's try this again!" Maverick's voice startled the two of you out of your moment. But just as quick, you caught Jake's eyes again. You both made your way to your jets and strapped in.
Jake looked towards you, and soon his voice was filling the channel, "I'll see you up in the air, honey."
"You'll hear her before anything, Hangman," Rooster chimed in, and you both heard the laughter of the squad in the background.
"That's mighty fine with me. Just me and my Chatter Box. Ready to smoke you all, again," he said with his signature Texas charm.
"Let's see about that," Maverick called out. "Hangman, Chatter Box. You are a go."
summary: cute things some of the boys do as your boyfriend
pairings: akaashi keiji x reader, bokuto koutarou x reader, ushijima wakatoshi x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: akaashi rest his hand on reader's thigh, ushijima briefly thinks about having kids with reader (if there's something, please tell me!)
quinn speaks: can y'all tell how much i love them?
— AKAASHI KEIJI
akaashi will drive you anywhere. you mention that you need to get a new winter coat, akaashi will drop what he's doing and grab his keys. you're going out to get grocieries for dinner tonight, akaashi is already slipping on his shoes and taking the keys from your grasp.
during long road trips he'll always be behind the wheel while you sit next to him, navigating and playing music. your road trips always seem to stretch on really long as akaashi isn't too much of a fan of energy drink or drinking tons of coffee. he'd rather spend the night in a little inn than driving at night when he's already getting drowsy.
it's not like he won't let you drive or that he thinks you're a bad driver, it's nothing like that. it's just he subconciously does it. he'll hear the jingle of the keys and rush to the front door to accompany you to where ever it is you need to go.
it's okay though. he always does that thing where he rest his hand on the back of your headrest when reversing. you get to see his tongue poking out a little, a habit that's stuck from young age, in order to focus. the way his hand rest on your thigh doesn't have you complaining either.
— BOKUTO KOUTAROU
bokuto's apartment is nicer than yours. it always confuses you when he comes over and makes himself right at home, especially when you see the way he acts in his own apartment.
he's stiff when sitting on his couch, but sprawls out on yours. he barely ever uses his kitchen, but he teaches you how to make his favorite foods in yours. his shower consists of a bottle of shampoo and body wash that your sure have been there since you've started dating, but he always digs into your sugar scrubs, lotions, and various soaps. he's always up late either scrolling on his phone or just laying and looking at the ceiling while in his bed, but within minutes of being laying on your comforter, he's out like a light.
bokuto likes your apartment. it's full of things that just scream your name. the various pieces of art work that hang on your walls are much more sentimental than the ones his interior designer had picked out for his apartment. the different types of plants that are scattered in every corner of your house just give more life to your place.
finally you ask him. why? why does he want to be in your little apartment when its an extra 20 minutes away from his work and when it's almost 1/3 of the size of his and when you've got new problems that pop up every other week.
at first he doesn't answer and you're scared you've scared him off or said something wrong. but then he takes his hands in your and tells you, "it just feels like home because of you."
— USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
children have never been especially drawn to him. instead, the stoic look on his face scares them and his large build only solidifies those feelings. it's never really bothered him, or rather he doesn't let it bother him too much. he knows that he's intimidating, even to grown adults, so he doesn't worry about it.
however, as soon as he started dating you, children would flock around the pair of you. every date and outing you've been on with him, at least on kid has approached you. they always approach you first, still a little uneasy of the big man that stands next to you.
lost kids that cry about their moms and dads, kids who tell you that you're pretty while bashfully hiding behind their hands, kids that ask you to pass them the ball when it stumbles in front of you. you always handle them with grace and cheer.
lost children get to hold your hand as you ask them questions and look around for their parents. you always compliment the bashful children, their cheeks glowing at your kind and genuine words. kids who wave at you and send you big smiles as you kick or throw their ball back.
ushijima knows it's early to be thinking about this, but he can't help it. he hopes that with time, you'll hold the same warmth towards the both of your future children.
quinn speaks: someone pls get me a boyfriend... this is getting embarrassing
— KOZUME KENMA
kenma often stays up late to game. he never expects you to wait up for him, but you often find yourself on the living room couch as he sits in front of the tv and meticulously clicks on his controller. kenma always notices when you lay down behind him, although you usually stay quiet as a mouse.
he looks back to check on you periodically; sometimes you'll be scrolling on your phone or have a book in hand. but once it hits the 1:00 am mark, you always find yourself curling up and falling asleep. so, kenma will pause his game and make sure to grab your favorite blanket -- you've never explictly said this, but he can tell as it's the one you always grab -- and drape it over your sleeping figure.
after that, he won't stay up too much longer. kenma always finds himself curling up right next to you.
— SUNA RINTAROU
you think suna is seriously addicted to back hugs. you'll be standing at the kitchen counter, just grabbing a few things out of the cabinets for dinner, and then your boyfriends will apere out of thin air. arms wrapping around your middle and head resting on top of yours.
when you stand in front of the mirror to put on your various jewlery pieces, he'll be there in just a few seconds. trailing kisses down your neck and shoulders, whispering about how pretty you look.
outings with your friends should be safe right? nope, suna is just a clingy around your shared friends despite the shit that he gets from the twins. suna will just bury himself deeper into you. fingers gripping a bit tighter at your hips, arms a bit more flexed against you, and head buried so far into your hair that you're concerned for his air supply.
what can he say, back hugs are the perfect way to go in any situations.
— TSUKISHIMA KEI
does he do it on purpose? or is it just a reflex after all this time? as soon as you're in arms length, tsukishima gently tucks the hairs that frame your face behind your ears. when you sit across from each other when eating dinner, when your scanning the bookshelves at your local library, and especially when laying in bed together.
you don't dare confront him about this little habit, scared if you mention it he'll stop. so, instead you bask in confusion. every time he tucks your hair back, your checks flush for a few seconds and your eyes go wide before you regain control and continue doing whatever you were doing before his interruption.
little do you know, that's exactly why he does it. he knows that he can easily fluster you with his words, but doing it with his actions is just so much more fun.
— KAGEYAMA TOBIO
anytime kageyama's fingers brush against yours, within seconds he is slipping his hand into yours. no matter where you are or what you're doing, his finger will lace with yours and he won't let go until he absolutely has to.
right before press conferences his coach will have to grip his jersey and tug him along, a sad pout gracing his features for a few seconds as he looks at you longingly. in busy crowds while waiting for the subway, he'll grab onto your hand and make sure that his grip is strong enough to keep you close to him. at home when your sitting at the dining room table, typing away on your laptop and just taking a break to stretch your fingers out. in those situations you find yourself tying with just one hand while the other rubs circles on kageyama's knuckles.
kageyama doesn't quite know why he does it. maybe it's because of the way your palm fits perfectly in his or maybe it's because it keeps him from picking at his cuticles or rather it's because the warmth in your hand that just seems to shoot straight up his body. he doesn't really care to find a reason to his actions, he'd rather just spend more time holding your hand in his.
warnings: late night walks/runs, reader wears an oversized sweater, and bo is afraid of the dark (if there's something, please tell me!)
quinn speaks: best boy <33 wrote this last night when i couldn't sleep
— BOKUTO KOUTAROU
bokuto sat up in his bed. after tossing and turn for what seemed like hours, he had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. his head pounded, but not in a bad way that makes you want to squint your eyes and rub your temples. no, it was in a good way. thoughts racing, not even the music playing in his ears could cover them up.
every thought seemed to be linked to you. everything little thing just reminded him of you.
he really should go to sleep seeing as he had practice in the morning, he reasoned with himself.
you always got to school early and would run into bokuto during his morning practices. always sending him a kind smile and shy wave before you continued on your way. sometimes he would follow after you just to see where you were headed and without fail, you would tuck yourself in the same corner of the school library everyday.
even on the days when you seemed tired, bags under your eyes a bit darker and yawns more frequent, you would arrive on schedule every time.
the covers were too hot.
on rainy days, you wore a blue and green sweater to class. it draped over your figure, way too big for you. he wondered if it was your boyfriends or your brothers or maybe a friend? he wanted it to be his, because the way you brought your hands over the sleeve to make sweater paws and the way you buried yourself in the collar when a gust of wind would come into the classroom. it drove him crazy.
he wanted to bury you in blankets and oversized sweater alike on days like that. bring you warm tea and fuzzy socks, anything to make you feel comfortable on the colder days in tokyo.
it was too dark in his room.
the lights flickered off in the classroom as students began to panic. the snow that was falling from the window certainly had to be the cause of the black out. bokuto never really had liked the dark, always opting to sleep with a night light whenever possible and never go on runs too late into the night.
you seemed to notice the way he tensed up and anxiously bounced his leg. with a light tap to his shoulder, he whipped around to face you. one hand outstretched and holding an earbud, gesturing for him to take it. as soon as he placed it in his ear, he swore the best song he had ever heard came on.
his hands were sweaty.
bokuto laid on the floor of the gym, all tired out from practice. he made his way towards the doors, thanking his coaches, teammates, and mangers before leaving with his bag slung on his shoulder and water bottle in his hand.
the closing of the east entrance door made his head swivel. down the stairs you padded, making your way the same direction he was walking. calling out to you, he asked what you were still doing at school so late.
with your explanation out of the way, he told you he would walk you home. it didn't come without some refusal on your part, but after he explained that he wouldn't feel right if your walked home alone in the dark, you agreed. truthfully, while you were relieved -- partially fearing the walk home -- bokuto was more anxious than ever.
but eventually, bokuto would retire. face on one pillow and arm hugging another one, thoughts of what it would feel like to finally hold you in his arms plaguing his mind before his droopy lids fell.
he would soon find out, he figured. on the bedside table a neatly written speech and dainty little neckless, both had your name written all over them.
summary: cuddling between reader and some of the boys!
pairing: miya atsumu x reader, kita shinsuke x reader, aone takanobu x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: atsumu pulling you to cuddle, kissing your neck, and tickling you — thunderstorms and forehead kisses in kita's — staddling aone for some kisses (if there’s something, please tell me!)
quinn speaks: i think i've caught the cuddle bug :/
atsumu clings onto you as the both of you watch the scary movie playing on his television. blood splatter flashes across the screen as both you and your boyfriend cringe and look away.
“really? don’t separate now ya idiot!” atsumu groaned as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your waist and hid his face in the crook of your neck.
soon after he said that, a high pitched scream could be heard as atsumu’s hands grew even tighter on you. “babe, loosen your hands,” you told him as he just whined into your neck.
“can we turn this off?” he mumbled, definitely a bit embarrassed. even though you couldn't see his face a pink blush was making its way up his neck and to his ears.
“course we can.” you reached for the remote and turned off the television. much to your surprise, atsumu gripped your hips so that you were now laying down on the couch; back up against his chest, he covered your neck in feathering kisses.
it’s like he was reading your mind. as soon as you opened your mouth, atsumu was already answering your question. “just wanna stay like this awhile, sweetheart,” his words were a bit muffled in your skin, but you were able to make it out.
“don’t worry tsum, i'll protect you,” you cooed at him. atsumu rolled his eyes at your teasing and quickly his fingers were dancing across your stomach, laughs and giggles spilling from your mouth along with insincere apologies.
kita held you close as thunder clapped, the both of you were huddled under the covers of your shared bed. the pattering of rain was heard on the roof and windows, all in all it was quite peaceful aside from the cracks of thunder that happened sporadically.
it wasn’t like kita and you were afraid of a bit of thunder and lightning, but this storm in particular was really bad. so bad that kita's work had been called off for a week and you had gotten the okay to work from home.
one of kita's arms was wrapped around your waist and the other one was cradling the back of your head. a particularly loud clap had you gripping onto kita’s soft sweater and your boyfriend brought you closer to him, if that was even possible at this point.
“doing okay?” he asked you softly.
“yeah, you?” you replied, voice muffled a bit due to your position.
“yeah, baby, i'm okay,” he told you. kisses were placed on your hairline as you hummed in content.
suddenly the thunder didn’t seem so loud compared to the steady beat of kita's heart and slowly but surely, it lulls you to sleep. kita watched as your features became relaxed and your hands seemed to loosen their hold on him. he decided to follow you into sleep, shifting slightly to tangle your legs with his a bit tighter and pulling your head under his chin.
rain continues to hit down as you and kita cling onto each other.
aone sat on the couch, hands laced together as he twirled his thumbs. half his attention was on the television show playing in front of him and the other half was on the door near the kitchen. you texted him saying you had to stay a bit later than usual and that he could start on dinner if he wanted. aone decided to wait, despite the growling from his stomach, but the ache in his heart was much stronger.
work wasn’t necessarily hard today, but it did tire him out a bit more than usual. his lower back is sore and his eyelids a bit droopy, sleepiness almost overtaking him.
when he heard the familiar jiggling of your keys and the hinges of your door creaking softly as the door opened, he got up from his spot on the couch but didn’t move to meet you. aone never wanted to take away your space, especially when you got home from work. no matter how much he longed to hold you and place his lips against yours.
“honey?” you called out a pet name as you slipped off your shoes and set down your bag. you moved around the house to find your boyfriend and finally finding him, you brought your arms around his neck as he planted hands on your waist.
he glanced down nervously at your lips, so you leaned in as to tell him that you wanted the same thing. your lips stayed together as he brought you down to the couch, now your legs on either side of his outer thighs.
the kisses were long and sweet, almost longing. soon you pulled away and rested your head on the man's shoulder as he hooked his head over your shoulder. you could feel him breath deeply against your neck as well as the feeling of his hands crawling up your back to rub it lightly.
you stayed like this for a like while longer before tugging your head from its spot on him to look him in the eyes. "wanna get take out and watch our show?" you suggested with a quirk of your head.
"yeah, you can order from here right?" his eyes didn't meet your as he mumbled the last part of his sentence. luckily, you were able to catch onto what he was saying and in response you giggled lightly and pulled your phone out of your pocket, dialing the familiar number.
summary: ushijima comes home to you after a long day
pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: one kiss and toshi grabs readers hips to pull them up out of a chair (if there's something, please tell me!)
quinn speaks: i think toshi would make the best hubby ever <33
ushijima set down his volleyball bag on the bench near the front door. kicking off his shoes and padding through the house in his white socks, he poked his head around trying to spot you in the many various places you seemed to be drawn towards. if he was being honest, it did remind him of a house cat.
but, you weren’t curled up on the couch watching a show nor sitting at the dining table reading something. ushijima stilled, he knew you were home as the food that sat on the stove was still warm and your shoes were by the door when he first came in, but usually you waited for him downstairs somewhere.
marching up the steps he saw the light of your home office was on and when he carefully listened he could hear the clacking of your keyboard keys. he pushed open the door softly so as to not disturb you and saw that you had your hair up, pencil resting between your lips, and eyes moving all over your screen and desk. remembering the project that you had due in a few days, everything seemed to make a bit more sense to the tall man.
his hands came down on your shoulders and you jumped a bit at the action. pulling yourself away from the screen and taking the writing utensil from your mouth, you spun in your chair to face him.
“hi, toshi,” you said softly.
“hello, my love,” he replied, bending down to kiss you. your eyes fluttered shut and hands came up to hold his face.
pulling away, he brought his hands to your waist and tugged you out of your chair.