Star

She/Her | 25 |Top Gun Maverick| 18+ MDNI | Requests open|

[rockstxr-x]

The Library

Welcome to my blog!

I've recently gotten back into writing so here's my masterlist :)

Jake Seresin

Crashing In: Jake x reader(Bob's sister) Roommates to lovers, slow burn, 18+.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Crashing in One shots/Blurbs:

Oh Christmas Tree

Even in the Dark, You Bring the Light

Part 1

Bradley Bradshaw

Somebody To Love

13 Going on 30

Bob Floyd

Bragging Rights

↘️Also enjoy some of my favourite stories↙️

Fic recs

[bellaireland1981]

Beach Day Encounters

Summary: You take your niece to the beach for the day to build sand castles and cheer her up... you don't expect to intercept football shaped missiles...or to meet a sweet (stupidly hot) naval aviator that captures both your niece's and your attention.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (Nickname Dove/Dovey)

Word Count: 3614 (This could potentially become a series... depending on interest)

Warnings: FLUFF absolute tooth rotting fluff... Just Bradley being his sweet adorable self.

A/N: I don’t own Top Gun Maverick characters but I do own reader OCs characters and original plot lines. I do NOT give permission to copy, translate, sell, repost to other sites, paste into an AI Generator, or any other forms of plagiarism. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. Don’t be an asshole. Reblogs are welcomed. My blog is 18+ minors DNI.

Masterlist (and tag list if you want to join

You were building a sand castle on the beach with your niece when a stray football came flying out of nowhere and would have been a missile to the castle had your reflexes not kicked in to intercept it in time. 

“HEADS UP!” Someone down the beach yelled as another guy came running over. 

“Oh my god I am so sorry, are you ok?” He asked, genuine concern in his whiskey colored eyes. He had on jean cut off shorts and wasn’t wearing a shirt, which just showed off his unfairly chiseled abs. 

“We’re good.” You said, managing to keep your voice normal sounding, despite your brain short circuiting at the incredibly good looking man in front of you…even with the mustache that you’d normally not find attractive. “Managed to intercept the missile before it hit the castle.” You smiled and handed him back the football.

“Well that’s a relief!” He smiled back, his fingers brushing yours as he took it, electricity shooting up your arm. “Wouldn’t want to take out any civilian castles today… especially ones as cool as that one.”

“Livie here is the master castle builder.” You said, smiling at your niece, “I’m just her assistant.” 

“It makes sense that she’s a master castle builder.” He said, smiling and winking at your niece, who blushed and giggled up at him, “I bet she’s a princess in disguise.”

“How did you guess?” You asked in a stage whisper, “That’s top secret information.”

“I’m trained to be very observant.” He replied smiling, then looked at your niece “Your secret is safe with me, Princess Livie.”

“BRADSHAW! STOP FLIRTING AND GET THE BALL!” His friend down the beach yelled. 

“Looks like you’re being summoned.” You smiled up at him. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Patience isn’t really in their vocabulary.”

“Do you wanna build with us?” Livie asked, her big brown eyes looking up at him.

“Liv, I’m sure he wants to get back to his friends and football, sweetie.” You said gently. 

“Actually… building sand castles sounds a lot more fun.” He answered, winking at Livie with a smile, “Let me go toss this ball back to my friends and let them know I’m ditching the for a better offer and I’ll be right back.”

“Ok!” Livie said happily. “See, Auntie Dovey? He wants to play!”

“I guess he does, Jellybean.” You smile softly. 

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be back… don’t build without me.” He said before jogging back over to his group of friends. 

You watched him for a moment but then forced yourself to look away, not wanting to get caught staring. Instead, you turned to your niece and smiled. She was having fun today. It was taking her mind off of her dad being gone, which had been the goal. You reached over and brushed a stray curl from her face. 

“Let’s get some more sunscreen on you quickly” You said, “And maybe take a juice break while we wait for your new friend to come back to build.”

“He can be your friend too, Auntie Dovey.” Livey said sweetly. 

“Thanks, Jellybean.” You smiled. 

You slathered her up with sunscreen again and then reached into the cooler to grab a juicebox out of her and a bottle of water out for yourself. 

“Can I have fruit snacks too, please?” She asked, sipping her juice. 

“Sure can.” You said, reaching into your bag and grabbing a pouch of fruit snacks out. “Disney fruit snacks, good enough for my little Princess.” 

“Thanks, Auntie Dovey.” She said, taking the pouch. 

“Looks like you have found a royal snack.” Bradley said coming back over. He’d put on a Hawaiian shirt… but left it unbuttoned. 

“Welcome back.” You said, smiling. 

“Thanks.” He replied, crouching down next to you and Livie. “So, I realized I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Bradley.”

“Didn’t your friends call you Bradshaw?” You asked, looking over at him. 

“Yup. Bradley Bradshaw.” He said smiling, “My parents had a sense of humor I guess.” 

“I like it.” You said, smiling, “I’m Y/N… and you already know Livie..well Olivia, but nobody really calls her that.”

“It’s nice to meet you both..officially.” he smiled, “Ready to build some amazing sand castles, Princess Livie?”

“Yup!” She said excitedly. 

The three of you played in the sand building a very large sand castle. You watched Bradley with your niece, your heart melting at how sweet he was with her. Livie was loving the attention… you had a feeling it had something to do with her missing her dad. 

“So when you’re not helping princesses build amazing sand castles, what do you spend your days doing?” You asked, putting a shell on the castle as decoration. 

“I’m a Navy aviator.” He said smiling as he handed another shell to Livie. 

“My Daddy is in the Navy!” Livie said, popping her head up, “You fly planes?” My daddy fixes planes!”

“He does?” Bradley asked “That’s a really important job. I can’t fly safely unless my plane works!”

“My Daddy is on a big ship right now.” She said, a little less enthusiastically now. “He’s been there a really really long time. That’s why Auntie Dovey is taking care of me.”

“I’d happily spend the day on the beach with you anytime, Jellybean.” You said, smiling softly at your niece, “But, it has been a long few months and I figured a beach day was in order today.”

“Deployments are tough.” Bradley said, “Especially when they’re long. I bet your Daddy is missing you just as much, Sweetheart.” 

“Can we take a picture of our castle for Daddy?” Livie asked, looking at you. “He loves building castles with me!”

“We sure can.” You said, reaching over to grab your phone. “Hop on into that picture, Jellybean. I’m sure Daddy wants to see his Princess.”

“Here, let me take one with both of you in it.” Bradley offered, smiling. “I’m sure he’s missing you both.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking over at him, “That’s sweet. Although I’m sure he misses Livie most of all.”

You moved so you were next to Livie, your arms around her, both smiling at the camera as Bradley snapped a few pictures. Afterwards, Livie asked to take her bucket and go closer to the water, looking for more shells. You said she could but to stay where you could see her and not to go into the water. She took off running to the wet sand to dig for shells. 

“She’s adorable.” Bradley said looking over at you, “How old is she?”

“She’ll be 7 next month.” You replied, looking back at him, smiling, “My brother, Luke should be back in time…provided the Navy doesn’t extend the deployment….again.”

“Again?” He asked. 

“The deployment wasn’t supposed to be this long. He’s already been out 5 months.” You said. “It was only supposed to be a quick 3 months at sea this time.”

“That’s rough when the short ones turn into long hauls.” He replied, “It’s never been that big of a deal for me, but I know the others in my squadrons have had families to get home to and it’s hard on them.”

“No family waiting on you to get back to shore?” You asked, “Someone special?”

“Nope.” He replied, something looking like pain flashing across his eyes before he masked it again. “No family…and single. My squadron now has become like a ragtag family…and I recently reconnected with my godfather… but that’s… complicated.”

“I definitely understand complicated family dynamics.” You said, looking over to where Livie was still playing. 

“So how’s her mom doing with the deployment?” He asked, chuckling as Livie cheered at finding another shell. 

“Her mom left the picture when she was just shy of a year old.” You said. “Signed over full parental rights and custody to Luke… two weeks before he was set to set sail on a 6 month deployment.”

“Holy shit.” He said softly. “That’s … wow….”

“Yeah.” You replied, “Luke called me in an absolute panic. He was stationed in Pensacola then. I jumped on a plane and was there by that night. We got it all figured out… eventually. I’m a freelance writer and can do that from pretty much anywhere, so I moved to Pensacola then here to San Diego. Whenever Luke deploys, I’m Livie’s guardian.”

“It’s just the three of you then? No parents or other family?” He asked

“It’s… complicated.” You laughed softly. “Parents… never great at the whole parenting thing. We have an aunt here… well sort of. She was best friends with our mom in college and she kinda took us under her wing… made sure we always had what we needed and were taken care of.”

“Looks like you and your brother landed on your feet.” He smiled, “And you’re doing great with Livie.”

“Thanks.” You replied, smiling back. 

Livie came running back with her bucket, dropping down in front of the two of you, smiling ear to ear.

“Look how many shells I found!” She exclaimed, “Can I take them home, Auntie Dovey?”

“Sure, Jellybean.” You laughed, “You can take them home. Those are very cool shells.”

“You’ve got quite the collection there!” Bradley said, looking into her bucket.

“Can we go show Auntie Penny?” She asked, excitedly. “And Amelia?”

“We can stop by before we leave.” You smiled. “I don’t know if Ames will be there.”

“Penny is the aunt you were talking about?” Bradley asked, his eyes wide in shock. 

“Yeah…” You said, you look over and smile in understanding. “You must frequent the Hard Deck…”

“I mean… yeah…” He chuckled, “But… she’s… dating my godfather.”

“Pete's your godfather?” You asked, laughing. “He’s… a bit of a wildcard. But he’s been good for my aunt… this time. Luke, Amelia and I all gave him the shovel talk.”

“He deserves it.” Bradley laughed, “For what it’s worth… I think he’s settling down. Both personally and professionally. He finally accepted the promotion of rank and is staying on at Top Gun. He’s in charge of the Dagger Squadron.”

“Is that your squadron?” You asked 

“Yeah.” He replied, “We were brought together to fly a mission last October and when we got back they decided to keep us as a unit. It took a bit to get all of our orders changed and reassigned.”

“So you’re… here in San Diego permanently?” You asked

“As permanent as the Navy can guarantee.” He replied, “We fly missions and we’ll deploy, but not like other squadrons.”

“I’m glad he’s sticking around then.” You said, “Penny seems really happy.”

“I’m hungry.” Livie said, moving to sit in your lap. “Can we go eat at Auntie Penny’s?”

“We can stop and say hi, but she’s getting ready to open… and I somehow don’t think Daddy would approve of me having you in a bar when it’s open, Jellybean.” You laugh.  “How about we get a pizza on the way home?”

“Cheese and pepperoni?” She asked

“Of course.” You agreed. 

“That’s a good choice.” Bradley said, smiling. “I parked over by The Hard Deck so I can walk that way with you if you’re going there first.”

“Sure, that sounds good.” You replied, standing up and brushing the sand off of you. “We actually parked over there too… Livie just wanted to come down this way to build.”

You helped Livie put her sundress on over her bathing suit and then tucked the towels into the bag. You had on shorts over your swimsuit and had opted for a one piece today so you just pulled a tshirt on over it. 

“I can help carry your cooler, and whatever else you need me to carry.” Bradley offered, smiling. 

“Thank you.” You replied, taking Livie’s hand with your free hand. 

The three of you start walking down the beach heading the way Bradley had come from earlier when playing football with his friends. Once you got close to The Hard Deck’s back entrance, Livie spotted Amelia sitting on the patio and took off running towards her. 

“How does she still have so much energy?” Bradley asked, chuckling. 

“If I knew that, I could bottle it up and make a fortune.” You laughed, looking up at him.

“Or power a small country.” He teased, winking at you. 

“You’re probably not wrong.” You smile, shaking your head.

Livie is showing her shells to Amelia when you get to the patio. She smiles when she sees you. 

“Hey, Dove.” Amelia said, “Hi Bradley. Livie said y’all were building castles today.”

“Hi, Ames.” You smiled, “We were… decided a beach day was needed… and we made a new friend…but I hear you already know one another.”

“Yup.” She smiled, looking at Bradley, then back at you “I did always say I wish I had a brother like you… guess I’m kinda getting one… of sorts.”

“I’ll happily be your big brother, Amelia.” Bradley chuckled, “Is Mav inside with your mom?”

“Of course.” She said, playfully rolling her eyes. “The rest of your squadron is in there too. Mom’s about to open to the general public though.” 

“That’s our cue to run in and see Aunt Penny before the crowds hit and it’s no longer suitable for a 6 year old in there.” You said, laughing. 

You guide Livie into the bar. The jukebox is already on and you notice the group that had been playing football with Bradley earlier was indeed all gathered at the pool table. He didn’t go over to them though, instead he followed you and Livie to the bar where Penny was slicing limes and lemons for the night and Mav was stocking the cooler with beer.

“Auntie Penny!” Livie said excitedly, climbing up onto a barstool. 

“Hey there, Jellybean.” She replied, smiling, “Auntie Dove brought you to the beach today, huh?” 

“Yup!” She confirmed, “And we builded sand castles and Bradley came and played with us! We made a super big castle… with shells for windows!”

“Wow, that sounds like a way cooler day that I had.” She winked at the little girl, then smiled over at you and Bradley. “Hi, Dove, Bradley.” 

“Hi Aunt Penny.” You said, smiling. “We wanted to stop in before we head home to get pizza.”

“I’m glad you did.” She replied, “I was going to call you later anyway. Are you and Livie free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Just getting groceries at some point.” You said.

“Then the two of you are coming over for dinner. Pete and I are going to grill out and take advantage of me not having to come into the bar.” She smiled. 

“Sounds fun.” You said, smiling, “What do you want me to bring?” 

“Just yourself and that sweet little girl.” She winked, then looked at Bradley, “We expect you to be there too, Bradley.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He chuckled, “Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself.” She laughed. 

“How did you manage to end up building castles with Dove and Livie, Rooster?” Mav asked, finishing with the beer in the cooler.

“Jake launched a longshot down the beach and I didn’t get to it in time.” Bradley explained

“Thankfully, I have fast reflexes and saved the castle from being bombed.” You laughed. 

“Then Bradley said he’d build with us!” Livie said happily, looking up at him. 

A woman with dark hair came up next to Bradley on the other side, smirking. She looked over at you and Livie and her expression changed to curiosity. 

“Hey Phoenix,” Penny said smiling, “What can I get you?”

“The squad needs another round please, Penny… on Bagman’s tab.” She replied, smiling. 

“Hey, Nix.” Bradley said

“Hey, Rooster.” She replied, smiling, “I can see why you ditched football for sand castles now.”

“What can I say..” He said, “Livie had a much better offer. She’s a sand castle Queen… you don’t turn down royalty, Nix.”

“I guess not.” She laughed, then looked over at you. “I’m Natasha…or Phoenix… I answer to both.”

“I’m Y/N.” You replied, smiling, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She said, returning the smile. 

“Bradley… why does everyone keep calling you Rooster?” Livie asked, looking up at him. 

“It’s my callsign…. Kinda like a nickname.” He replied, leaning in closer to her, “Pilots all have them…and sometimes everyone uses that more than our real names.”

“A nickname…” She said and you could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she processed the information. Her eyes lit up, she looked over at you, “Like your real name is Y/N but you’re Auntie Dovey.. And Daddy just calls you Dove.”

“Exactly.” You smiled, lovingly at your niece, “And how we all call you Jellybean.”

Phoenix looks at Bradley, raising her eyebrow, smirking. Thankfully, Penny has the drinks ready for her to take to the squad.

“Here you go, Phoenix.” Penny said, winking, “On Hangman’s tab as requested.”

“Thanks, Penny.” She replied, smiling. She picked the tray of drinks up then looked over at Bradley, “You planning on joining us tonight?”

“Maybe later.” he replied, “Gonna run home and shower…change. I’ll text you.”

She nods, looks over at you and smiles, “It was nice to meet you… hope to see you around.”

“You too.” You replied, smiling. Once she headed back towards the pool table, you looked over at Penny, “We should get going. I have to pick up pizza on the way home for Livie and she will be ready for a bath, movie and early bed today after being outside all day.”

“I’ll walk out with you.” Bradley said, smiling. He looked over at Livie who was already looking like her energy levels were waning. “Hey, Princess Livie… want a piggy back ride out to the car?” 

She smiled up at him like he’d hung the moon, her whole face lighting up. 

“Yes, please!” She replied. 

“Hop on up.” He said, then helped her to carefully stand on the barstool so she could climb onto his back. His arms went around her legs to securely hold her while her arms held onto him around his neck as she leaned onto him.  “After you.” He smiled and winked. 

You said goodbye to Penny and Mav and then led the way out to the parking lot and to your car. Bradley carefully crouched down so that Livie could get down, while you put the small cooler and bags into the trunk. He helped her into the backseat and buckled her into the booster seat. 

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you two today.” He said once he’d closed her door. 

“I should be thanking you…” You said smiling, “You really made her day… and I had a lot of fun too.”

“I know I’ll see you both at Penny’s tomorrow for dinner,” He said, looking almost bashful as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “But, would you want to get dinner with me sometime? Or coffee?”

You smile softly, your eyes meeting his, your heart beating a little harder as you reply, “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, smiling the same sweet smile that had made your stomach flutter all day, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’d love to, Bradley.” You replied, butterflies once more fluttering in your belly. “Dinner… coffee… either, or both sound great.” 

“I’ll take both then.” He said, his smile getting bigger. “Since you already agreed… no take-backsies.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow at Penny’s… we can make plans from there.”

“Sounds perfect.” He agreed, “Have a great night, Y/N.”

“You too, Bradley.” You replied, smiling as you opened the door and got in. 

He waved at Livie and then turned to head toward his own vehicle. 

Once you arrived home you ordered a pizza and got Livie in a quick bath then changed into her Pjs. The pizza arrived about 45 minutes later and you set her up to eat while watching a movie. As you ate, you pulled your phone out and sent a quick message to your brother. 

YOU: Hey Big Brother! Took Livie to the beach today… she was in need of a pick me up. We built sand castles so she was in her element (see attached pictures). She’s doing great. School’s out for the summer so we’re hanging out and living our best lives now.  Our sand castle was almost destroyed by enemy fire today (AKA a football)... thankfully all of those backyard rounds of catch paid off and I was able to intercept it before it was a direct hit. It did result though in meeting a really great guy. He’s actually an aviator. He was playing football with his squadron, but then ditched them to build sand castles with Livie the rest of the afternoon. He’s actually Pete’s godson. Small world. Having dinner at Penny’s tomorrow… He’s going to be there too. Lukey… I like him. Also… he asked me on a date. 

Have to go for now, Livie is finishing her pizza. Gonna let her watch a few more minutes of Moana and then get her off to bed. Love you and miss you. ♥️Dovey

You hit send and then set your phone down. A few minutes later, Livie was done with her pizza and already starting to nod off. You paused the movie and helped her up the stairs to get her teeth brushed and then tucked her into bed. You promised tomorrow to help her write a letter to her dad. She wanted to send a picture she drew and tell him all about her new friend. You had a feeling Luke would be hearing an awful lot about Bradley in the coming days.

***

A/N: Thoughts? Do we want more? Leave it here? LET ME KNOW!

***

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[atlaslapis]

(When the team takes Bob out to the Breezy Sea-dollar, he immediately falls in love, insistent on making you an honest woman.)

Crawling back to you (Bob Floyd x Exotic Dancer! Reader) pt.1

(Warnings: inaccuracy with exotic dancing, inaccuracy with navy, MDNI 18+)

———————————————————————————

“Robert Floyd, you’re still a virgin?”

That was the question that was sitting in the air after Bob had gone silent during a conversation within the team about losing their virginity. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to have sex, he just hadn’t met someone he wanted to lose it to. Bob had heard stories of his buddies meeting hook ups who wanted babies because they would be set for life and just overall terrible stories.

“I haven’t met the right woman.” He admitted, eating his peanuts, “I mean I’m content the way I am.”

“Have you ever even kissed a girl?” Hangman asked and Bob grew quiet.

“Oh my god.” Coyote whispered and everyone got quiet along with Bob.

“Have you been to Breezy Sea-Dollar?” Rooster asked, sipping his beer.

“The Breezy what?” Bob asked, clearly confused.

“Oh my god. Bob, what do you spend your money on?” Hangman asked.

Bob didn’t want to admit he spent most of his money on Warhammer figures, model airplanes to set up, and legos. He didn’t want to admit he had a savings account that he put back so much money because he wanted to spoil the girl who would have his heart.

“N-Not a lot.” Bob admitted, “I’m just good at saving money.”

“Take out some money, we are taking you to the strip club.” Hangman said, “I got a girl who will show you a great time tonight Bob.”

“How much money should I take out?” Bob asked, “Like is five hundred enough?”

“Five hundred is plenty, I think it’s one hundred and fifty for a private dance.” Rooster said.

Hangman piped up, “Two hundred if you wanna touch her?”

“Touch her? Touch her how?’ Bob asked and everyone just stared at him.

“Oh you sweet angel child.” Phoenix whispered.

“Touch her like grab her ass or hold her waist.” Hangman explained, “Or just let your hands wander.”

“Just don’t do what Coyote did. She handed his ass to him.” Rooster said with a smirk.

“Don’t start, she’s smacked Hangman before!” Coyote scoffed.

Bob just watched them bicker, quietly eating his peanuts, “What should I wear?”

“Rooster and I normally just wear a button up with jeans. You don’t gotta dress up.” Hangman explained and Rooster nodded.

Bob nodded, “I can do that.”

“Perfect, we’ll go at 7 p.m. tonight. Let yourself loose Bob, maybe have a drink.” Rooster said and Bob nodded along.

“Loose, I can be loose.” He said, already hyping himself up for tonight.

Robert Floyd had no idea what was in store for him tonight.

———————————————————————————

Working as an exotic dancer at the Brezzy Sea-Dollar was your best job yet, I mean what was there not to love? Beach, warm weather, and easy money. It wasn’t a true navy base if they didn’t have a strip club on base. The customers who showed up were for the most part respectable and if they weren’t? Eh, your regulars took care of those who weren’t. It was mostly your regulars and new top gun recruits coming in to go through the program.

So when you got a text from one of your favorite regulars, Rooster, you were hoping he wasn’t going to try to lure you into giving lap dances to the next Top gun class. He had asked you to meet because he had a job for you.

“Roost, I am going to say no if you ask me to give everyone in the Top Gun class a lap dance again.” You said, walking up to Rooster as he leaned against his bike.

“Well hello to you too pretty girl.” He said with a smirk, taking in your outfit.

All you wore was Jean shorts, sandals, and a tank top that showed off your belly button piercing. “Yea Yea, soak it up Roost. What am I doing for you?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Rooster smirked and took out a zyn pack, “I have a guy on my team who has never touched a woman. Like a literally virgin.” He explained, “Hangman and I want him to relax and have a good time. I know you won’t corrupt him too much and you’ll go easy on him.”

“Okay, I can do that. What’s he like?” You asked.

“He’s intelligent, hell of a WSO, and he loves legos. He doesn’t know we know about the Lego thing, so like, don’t mention it to him.” Rooster said.

You nod, “And his name?”

“Bob.” Rooster said.

“Call sign?” You asked, clearly trying to gauge what kind of guy you were working with.

“Bob also.” He said, “I promise he isn’t like a stick in the mud.”

“It’s fine if he is.” You assured, “I’ll get him out of his shell. But I want 250 up front right now. Plus, I’ll throw in a free lap dance to him.”

“And not me?” Rooster scoffed then smirked, “Well I am offended Aquamarine.”

“I know, I know.” You said, “Maybe if you’ll play nice tonight.”

“And about that 250, I don’t know if I can pay that.” Rooster joked, “You may have to sweeten the deal.”

“Yea?” You purred, stepping closer to Rooster, “Me? Sweeten the deal?”

“I want a private dance an hour early, I’ll lie to the boys that I’ll meet them there. Deal?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“How much you willing to pay Roost?” You joked.

“I’ll go up to five hundred. Plus we will pay for each dance and two hundred for each hour. Deal?” He offered.

You stare at him a moment before nodding, “Deal Rooster. Holy shit!” You said with a laugh.

“Gotcha Aquamarine.” He cooed, squeezing your waist, “See you at 6 pm, sweet pea.”

“See you at six Rooster.” You said with a smirk, pushing up his sunglasses.

“Oh, and what should I wear tonight?” You asked.

“Does nothing work?” Rooster joked and you pushed his chest.

“I didn’t know you could be a perv Roost, thought hangman won that title.” You said with a smirk as Roost caught your hands.

He kissed your hands and smirked, “But seriously? Just something cute, not too flashy.”

“I can do that.” You said with a smirk. You and Rooster soon said goodbye and you headed back to your condo to get ready for tonight.

As much as you thought you were prepared for tonight, you had no clue your life was about to change tonight.

———————————————————————————

It was currently 6:55 pm and you had just finished your dance with Rooster. You were in a private dance room that you had rented out monthly. The outfit you chose was an aquamarine color and was a body suit that connected the top with a little circular bedazzled ring and matching heels. Bending over to put in your safe password, Rooster cleared his throat.

“Listen, this is my last dance with you.” He said, fiddling with his phone, “I met someone and I think she’s the one.”

You smiled to yourself and put your money away, “Congrats Rooster. I’m happy for you. I hope to never see you here again then.”

“Same, no offense.” He said with a laugh, “But I plan on making Bob your new regular.”

“I am excited to meet this Bob.” You said with a smile and right on cue Hangman and another guy came into the private dance room.

“You dick, you were hogging her!” Hangman scoffed and Rooster laughed, leaning back into his seat.

“Anyway, I am being rude.” Hangman said, “Aquamarine, this is my friend Bob. Baby on Board, this is Aquamarine.”

“Please don’t call him that. Rooster said with a sigh and you chuckled.

Bob meanwhile was looking at you like you had hung the moon, the way your eyes sparkled in the lights and how your smile was warm and bright at the same time. He didn’t even notice Hangman nudging him in the ribs.

“Bob, say hi.” Hangman hissed, still nudging him.

“Hello I’m Robert Floyd, you are really pretty.” Bob blurted out, his face immediately gaining a blush.

“Can I call you Bob or Bobby?” You asked with a smile and looked to Rooster and Hangman.

“You aren’t gonna call me Baby on Board?” Bob asked sounding shocked, “B-But they call me that.”

“Yea well, that’s a little to mean for my standard, so we’ll stick with Bob.” You said, looking over to the exit then Rooster and Hangman.

Rooster and Hangman immediately got the hint, “Bob, we are gonna go get drinks. Why don’t we get you a whiskey?” Hangman offered.

“I’m okay with a lemonade.” Bob stammered.

“Bob, they don’t have lemonade.” Rooster said with a sigh.

“Yes they do, we have soft drinks. Just say Aquamarine wants it.” You said.

Rooster and Hangman nodded, leaving you and Bob alone.

“Bob, why don’t you go sit down?” You offered, noticing his eyes didn’t stray from your face.

“Y-Yea.” He stammered, “You can call me Bobby.”

“Okay Bobby, well you can call me aquamarine. I’m gonna give you your first dance, okay? Here are some ground rules.” You explained, “If you ever feel nervous or uncomfortable tell me to stop and we will stop, okay? This dance is gonna be all about you, meaning I want this to be enjoyable for you.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bobby said, keeping his eyes on your face.

“Wanna pick your song Bobby?” You asked, moving to your phone.

“It is called, ‘Do I wanna know?’. You probably know it.” He said, looking at his hands.

“Yea by Arctic Monkeys?” You asked, “I know that one.”

Bob didn’t have the heart to admit he was talking about the Hozier cover, but he nodded. “Yea that one.”

You put the song on and made your way to Bob who still had his eyes focused on your face. You couldn’t help but notice he had a boner, but he was acting like he didn’t. He kept himself completely calm and in line.

As the song started, you began to start your dance letting the music flow through you. Bob had his hands on the couch, keeping his eyes on your face, never straying.

“Bobby baby, you know you can touch me.” You explained and Bobby just nodded, almost like he couldn’t speak. You stopped for a minute, “Bobby, may I see your hands?” You asked.

Bob quietly gave you his hands and you placed yours over his and guided him to your waist. You kept your hands over his, guiding him gently while you faced him on his lap.

“What’s your favorite flower?” Bob asked, clearly out of left field.

“I like all kinds, but Lilies are my favorite.” You said, keeping your eyes on his as you rolled your hips. You tried getting a reaction but nothing was working even as you guided his hands to your ass, “What’s your favorite flower?”

“I really like Hydrangeas or peonies.” He said with a small chuckle.

“So you are a sea-man.” You joked, “What’s your job?”

“I am a WSO, Weapons systems officer.” He said, clearly excited you had asked, “I fly with pilots and work with the air operations and weapon systems of military aircrafts.”

“That sounds cool, I like hearing about what you guys do. Mind telling me more?” You asked, continuing do dance.

“Yea of course!” He said excitedly, “I currently fly at McDonnell Douglas F/A-18 Hornet.” He explained, “It’s supersonic and top speed of it is 1,190 miles per hour!”

“Holy shit!” You said with a laugh, “Honestly, how did you get into this job? You don’t strike me as someone who would hangout with Rooster and Hangman.”

“Oh, I have loved air planes since I was little! My dad was in the Air Force and as much as I liked the air force, I wanted to work with these types of planes and wanted to be a weapons systems officer.” He explained, “We used to make model airplanes together. Of course, we still do when I’m home.”

“Wow, so this is your passion.” You said with a smile, still guiding his hands on your body.

“Enough about me though, I wanna know about you.” Bob said, his eyes showing how excited he was to be talking to you.

“Bobby, I am a dancer, you don’t gotta pretend to give a shit about me.” You said with a chuckle.

“But I do! I do give a shit about you!” He said, “Wait no, I mean I care to know more about you.”

You giggled, “Alright, Alright, what do you wanna know?” You asked.

“How did you end up here? Are you from here? Do you like this job? Sorry, this is a lot of questions.” He stammered out, “You don’t have to answer all of them.”

“Oh Bobby.” You said with a chuckle, “I ended up here because this guy I was seeing at the time made it into the Top Gun program and my dad was in the navy, so I followed him out here. Stupidly decision on my end. Anyway, we broke up because he cheated on. So what did I do? I found a nice condo and found work here because I used to teach pole dancing lessons.”

“He’s an asshole.” Bob stated, “I hope he wasn’t a WSO.”

“He was a pilot.” You said with a chuckle.

“To cheat on someone as beautiful and kind as you are should be a crime within itself.” He stated.

You started to blush and he noticed, starting to blush as well.

“Do you surf?” He asked, clearly nervous about the tension that formed in the air.

“Paddle board.” You said with a smile, “Do you surf?”

“Yea I um… I do.” He said, “How would you feel about-” Bob unfortunately couldn’t finish his sentence because Hangman and Rooster busted in clearly tipsy.

“BOBBY’S TOUCHING BOOBIES!” Hangman screeched, “HE GOT TO SECOND BASE!”

Bob and you had been absolutely to engrossed in the conversation to even realize his hands were on your breasts.

“Ohmygod.” Bob whispered, pulling his hands away causing you to lose your balance. His hands shot out to catch you by your waist, by instead he got a handful of ass instead.

“NAH MY MAN IS AN ASS MAN!” Rooster shouted.

“Out before I have you both banned.” You snapped, “Not you Bobby.”

“Not Bobby.” Bob whispered to himself as Rooster and Hangman quickly left you and Bobby alone.

You moved his hands to your waist, “Your hours almost up, do you want more dancing?” You asked.

“I will pay you three hundred dollars to walk the beach with me tonight, we can get ice cream.” Bob said, “And I’ll pay for the ice cream.”

“Bobby, I don’t normally do this.” You explained, “I’m sorry.”

“Please, I would like to know more about you.” He said, looking at you like you were the only one who would ever matter to him.

You sighed, finally breaking that wall, “Sure Bobby, you seem nice enough.”

Bobby nodded excitedly, “Do you need to go home and change first?”

“Do you want me to wear this on our walk?” You joked.

“I like Aquamarine, but I also like you more.” Bob admitted, “I wanna see you as you.”

“Okay. But you don’t have to pay me for this. I want to do this.” You said with a nod and gave him your address.

“Cool, is thirty minutes enough time for you?” He asked as you got off his lap, “And are you sure?”

“ Yes and it is plenty of time, I’ll see you then.” You said with a smile.

He nodded and before he could stand up, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. Bob froze like he couldn’t comprehend a woman wanting to touch him. You took your money and left him stunned and harder than before.

He had to get down his erection fast.

———————————————————————————

Soon you were at your condo, out of your work clothes and into a quarter zip and shorts. You decided to go with your Birkenstock sandals since you didn’t like wearing tennis shoes on the beach. Specifically you decided to pick out a floral perfume, hoping Bob would like it. Right on time, he knocked on your door and you answered.

There he held what looked to be a Lego box.

“Bob, is that a Lego box?” You asked, clearly confused, “Why do you have this? I thought we were going on a walk.”

“I know you didn’t mention roses were your favorite flower. But I bought these pink Lego roses to build and I uh, I don’t have space for them.” He admitted, a complete lie. Bob had bought a vase for them but after building the smaller roses Lego set, he figured he would rather build the other set with someone else.

“Is this confirming a second date? Trying to test me Bobby?” You joked, taking the flower box.

“This is a date?’ Bob asked, confused.

Your face fell and you started to get embarrassed, causing Bob to panic.

“I didn’t want to scare you off! I want this to be a date! I am courting you! Wait, who the hell says that anymore? I mean I want you to be my wife.” Bob stuttered out, “Well wait, not right now. Let’s start off with girlfriend, I would like you to be my girlfriend.”

“Ask me again after our walk, okay?” You asked and Bob nodded.

“Mhm, yep I can do that.” He said, “May I take your hand?”

“Bobby, you don’t gotta ask. This isn’t the club.” You assured, taking his hand.

“Okay.” He said, taking your hand as the two of you walked toward the beach from your house, “Wow, you practically live on the beach.” He said, clearly in awe.

“I do.” You said with a warm smile, “How would you feel about teaching me to surf?”

“I would gladly teach you.” He said with a smile as you two walked in the sand, “I’ve been surfing since I was a kid.”

“Oh yea?” You asked, “Where did you grow up?”

“I was born on Shaw Air Force base. We never really left the south, so that’s why I talk with a southern drawl.” He explained, causing you to laugh.

“Really?” You said with a smile, “I think your accent is cute.”

“Thanks.” He said, blushing, “Um I have to tell you something.”

“Oh yea?” You asked, “And what’s that Bobby? You got a wife and kids at home?”

“No no!” He said with a laugh, “The song I requested for my dance earlier.. it wasn’t technically the right song.”

“Oh Bobby baby,” You said, moving to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have fixed it.”

“No no, I didn’t want you to.” He explained, “But I would like to show you now, if you’d let me?” He asked, pulling out his phone.

“Yea of course you can show me.” You said as he put the song on.

He put his phone in his pocket and offered his hand.

“Are you asking me to dance?” You asked with a warm smile and Bob sheepishly nodded.

“I would like for you too.” He said as you took his hand.

The two of you slow danced, your head resting on his chest as he kept one arm around your waist and the other holding your hand. He gently moved his lips to the crown of your head, pressing softly. You smiled into his chest.

You knew at this moment, the two of you would always be crawling back to the other. No matter what, Bob was always going to be crawling to you.

Bob knew the moment he locked eyes with you, he was going to marry you. Even if it meant crawling to you, meeting you all the way.

As the song ended, you gently opened your eyes and smiled up at him. Bob took it as an opportunity to gently cup your face and lightly rub your cheek. The song restarted itself, the same chords playing in the beginning as you two looked at each other. You could tell Bob was nervous, probably his first kiss. But, you let him lead because for once in your life, you were tired of being the first person to make a move.

Just as Hozier sang the first ‘Crawling back to you’ he kissed you. The kiss was soft and a little awkward, but it was still you and Bob. You brought your hand to cup his face as he moved to dip to you, his hand moving from your cheek to hold your waist.

The song ended again as you two continued to kiss, reminding you two of what was to come.

———————————————————————————

(Pt.2 coming soon)

(Taglist: @phoenix-rising-starbird-one @teascorner @courage-is-all-you-need @unfortunatewriting)

[rockstxr-x]

Ohh can’t wait for part two!!!

[lives-in-midgard]

Mission: bring Bob and you together

Pairing: Bob Floyd x reader, Bradley Bradshaw x sister reader, the whole dagger squad

Summary: After the dagger squad sees how close you and Bob are they start the mission to bring you two together.

Word Count: 2920

A/N: I got this idea after watching Top Gun Maverick at the cinema, I hope you like this!!! 💗

Divider made by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

As Rooster’s younger sister, you’re a special member of the squad, everyone adores you and they always love to have you around. Lately something changed, you didn’t notice the change, but the others did. Everyone in the group has noticed that you and Bob have gotten so much closer in the last couple of weeks.

Jake was the first one who noticed it and pointed it out to Bradley while sitting together at a cozy booth at the hard deck. Bradley didn’t want to believe it at first but then he noticed it too. He noticed the way that Bob is always making sure that you are having a good time, Bob is almost always saving you a seat beside him and then when you sit down beside him his face would light up. You always start to smile when you see Bob, you laugh at his jokes even though they aren’t that funny and then there also is the fact that you started going out more with them even though you used to rather stay at home.

Bradley was protective at first, but he also saw how happy you are when you’re close with Bob and seeing you happy made him happy as well, so Bradley decided that he didn’t mind if there really is something going on with you and Bob.

It was a Saturday evening when you were all coming together at Penny’s and Maverick’s house, it was a small get together with food, drinks and just great company. Even though you knew it wasn’t anything fancy you found yourself standing infront of your closet for way longer than necessary. You wanted to wear something more beautiful, maybe to impress Bob a bit? After a while you decided to wear something that looks beautiful and cute but not too fancy. You took your bag and then made your way to Maverick’s. You decided to walk because it wasn’t that far and you also knew that Bradley, or someone else or maybe even Bob would probably drive you home if it got late.

When you reached their house and approached their backyard, you could already hear the others laughing and talking. As you entered the backyard Jake noticed you first and gently nugged Bradley beside him and pointed at your direction with a grin. Bradley’s gaze snapped toward you and his face brightened as he saw you. He gave Jake a soft smile who then nodded at him softly. Bradley stood up, breaking away from the group and made his way over to you. Jake then walked behind him, both happy to see you. Natasha was also nearby and waved at you with a smile as you walked closer.

“Hey sis.” Bradley said with a warm smile and then pulled you into a tight hug.

“Hey Roo.” You said softly. Bradley didn’t let go of you until you broke the hug first, just like always he made sure to hold you as long as you wanted or needed it.

“Hi little Bradshaw.” Jake said with a chuckle and also greeted you with a short hug. You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but you couldn’t hide a smile. Ever since they got into a relationship, Jake started to have a soft spot for you. Then it was Natasha’s turn to give you a hug.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you’re finally here.” She said and you chuckled. You looked around the backyard and saw Maverick at the grill with Javy, flipping something at the grill and when they saw you the both gave you a smile, Penny just walked outside when some drinks and gave you a smile when she spotted you and Reuben was talking to Fanboy and Bob. When Bob saw you his face lit up and he didn’t even tried to hide it. Natasha tried to hide her grin and looked over to Bradley and Jake, who also noticed. Bob excused himself from the others and made his way over to greet you. Jake tried not to laugh about how eager Bob was to greet you, which made Bradley roll his eyes and Natasha chuckled at the interaction.

“Hey.” Bob said in a warm voice and with a soft smile. You smiled back at him but before you could greet him Bob leant closer and placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Hey Bob.” You greeted him but you were a bit shy because of the kiss that he just placed on your cheek. Bob’s gaze softened at your soft greeting, and he gave you another smile. Bob stayed beside you, not crowding but close enough that you could slightly smell his cologne. Jake fake coughed, Bradley chuckled and then started to lead Jake back to the others, Natasha trailed behind them but gave you a knowing grin.

“So, have I missed anything?” You asked Bob and he shook his head.

“Not much, just food being grilled and the usual banter going on.” Bob answered with a shrug and gently laid his hand on your back to lead you over to the others. You left his side for a moment, so that you could greet Maverick.

“Hey Mav.” You greeted him and he smiled at you.

“Hey sunshine.” He said and pulled you into a tight hug. Maverick has always called you that nickname, since you were little and he still carried you around when your parents came to visit him. You and Maverick were always close and he is always there for you when you have some questions about your parents, even though it still always makes him emotional to talk about them.

After a short talk with Maverick you returned to Bob’s side, who was standing with the others.

“Hey, you have to try the snack that I made, it’s so good.” Reuben said to you.

“No, it’s not.” Bob mumbled beside you which made you chuckle.

“But Mickey brought his self-made nachos.” Bob said and you began to smile.

“Omg, Mickey’s nachos are the best.” You said excited and Bob chuckled. Mickey, who was only a few steps away, immediately looked over to you with a smile.

“See, guys she gets it.” Mickey shouted proud and some of the others chuckled.

“Not this again.” Reuben said a bit annoyed.

“You can’t say that they aren’t good.” You said and looked at Reuben.

“Okay, okay they are fine.” Reuben agreed.

“They are not just fine, they are incredible” Mickey insisted and you tried to held back a laugh, just like some of the others.

“Mickey’s nachos are good, Reuben is just annoyed because Mickey doesn’t like the snack that he brought.” Jake pointed with a smirk, which made Reuben roll his eyes. You chuckled and turned over to Bob, who also had to hold back a laugh.

“Come on, Bob we have to get some nachos.” You said and grabbed his arm, dragging him over to the side of the table where the Mickey’s nachos were. Bob didn’t protest as you started to drag him away, instead he really liked the way that you were holding his arm. Mickey smiled as you two walked over, Bob reached for a plate and put some of the nachos and a sauce on it. Then you went to the table and sat down beside each other. Bob placed the plate in the middle so that you two could share. Sometimes your fingers brushed his when you were reaching for the same chip, and every time it would make your heart beat a bit faster. Between bites Bob glances over to you, a soft smile on his lips when he saw you smiling or laughing because of something that Jake or someone else said.

The party around you continued, Maverick, Javy and Reuben were carrying some of the plates to the table, Penny asked if anyone needed something and conversations began to flood. But at your side of the table? It was just you and Bob in your own little bubble, sharing food, talking and laughing like you’re a couple that has been together for a while.

After a while it got late and Bradley, Jake and Natasha helped Maverick and Penny to carry everything inside while you, Bob and the others started to clean up outside. A while later you all found yourself in the living room.

“I think I’m gonna head home before it gets more late.” You said after a while and looked outside. Bradley wanted to say something, but Bob was faster.

“I can drive you home, if you want.” Bob offered softly.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You said with a smile, Bob smiled back and then reached for his jacket. You both said goodbye to everyone, you walked over to Bradley and Jake to give them a hug and then to Maverick giving him a short hug as a goodbye.

Bob walked beside you as you walked to his car, his hand was almost touching yours. Then before he could overthink it he gently reached for your hand and looked at you. You smiled at him and gave him a nod, silently telling him that this was okay.

Inside Jake was sitting at the couch and looking outside, seeing this sweet moment between the two of you. His smirk widened when he saw Bob reach for your hand, Bradley followed Jake’s gaze and then saw it too. Bob held your hand and then when you reached his car, Bob opened the door for you like a gentleman.

“We need to get them together.” Mickey suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah, they’re so obvious but they won’t notice it. They definitely need our help.” Natasha said and some of the others nodded.

“Okay, but we have to be careful, that’s my sister. She is clever and she would notice if we start planning something.”

“But you’re up for playing matchmaker for your sister?” Javy asked Bradley and shrugged.

“I see how happy she is when she is with Bob and Bob definitely feels the same, so yeah I think we should help them.” Bradley said and Jake smiled softly.

“Okay, Mission get Bob and little Bradshaw together starts now.” Jake said and everyone nodded, even Maverick and Penny.

From that day on they all tried to get you two to spend more time together, doing more movie nights but making sure that you sit beside Bob every time, going to the beach but the others left earlier so that it ended up being only you and Bob at the end. One time you needed help with something but everyone said that they didn’t have time, so it ended up being Bob who helped you.

But even after everything that they tried you both still haven’t confessed your feelings yet. The others already started to get a bit frustrated about how you and Bob won’t notice how obviously in love you are.

You were all sitting together at the hard deck, you were sitting beside Bob sharing some peanuts with him.

“The festival at the harbor is opening next weekend, I thought that maybe we could all go there on Saturday together.” You asked after a while. Bradley nodded but then Jake shook his head.

“Me and Bradley are on a date.” Jake lied and Bradley nodded quickly, even though he felt a bit guilty for lying to you because he knew how much it means to you to spend more time with him.

“Yeah, sorry we can’t.” Bradley said and then Javy and Reuben also said that they didn’t have time.

“I can go with you.” Natasha said with a smile and you began to smile. Then she nodded to Mickey.

“What about you?” She asked him.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come too. Bob?” Mickey asked and then looked at Bob. You looked over to Bob and he then looked back at you.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll come too.” Bob said and fixed his glasses.

“Great, it’s gonna be nice.” You said with a smile.

Saturday came quickly, you were getting ready when you suddenly got a text from Natasha telling you that she sadly can’t come to the festival with you but she told you that Mickey and Bob would still go with you and that they will pick you up.

A few minutes later there was a knock on your door and you went to open it. You expected both Bob and Mickey but then it was suddenly only Bob who was standing there.

“Hey.” Hey said with a shy smile.

“Hey Bob.” You greeted him and he moved closer to kiss your cheek softly. Over the last few weeks, it has become his way of greeting you and you love the feeling of his lips softly brushing your cheek.

“Are we picking up Mickey?” You asked but Bob shook his head.

“No, Mickey just texted me. He can’t come.” Bob explained and fixed his glasses.

“Oh.” You said and then began to get a bit nervous about going with Bob alone.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want but if you still want to go then I would love to.” Bob said and you thought about it for a moment.

“Yeah, I still would like to go.” You said and Bob began to smile.

“Nice.” He said you both started to walk to his car and when you reached his car Bob opened the door for you.

The drive to the harbor wasn’t long and it was shared in a comfortable atmosphere. Bob turned some music on, but not too loud so that you could talk. Bob smiled at you as you talked and occasionally his hand would softly brush your thigh.

When you arrived at the festival you and Bob walked side by side, while his hand softly found yours and intertwined it with your hand. Bob smiled at you as he started to lead you through the crowd. You walked past the different stands with games, or some food or drinks. You walked past a small stage were a band was singing, you stopped for a bit to listen and Bob suddenly started to dance with you slowly, it made you giggle and Bob smiled even more. A while later you stopped at a booth with a game, because Bob insisted that he wanted to win something for you. After he won the game Bob handed you the big teddy bear with a proud smile, and you continued to walk around. After a bit you continued to wander around and found a photobooth. You smiled as you saw it, Bob noticed your smile and started to lead you over to the photobooth.

“You want to take some pictures?” Bob asked and you nodded. Bob smiled and opened the curtains for you, so that you could walk in first. Then he followed you inside and sat down beside you. You sat the teddy bear on the ground and Bob turned to you with a smile.

“Ready?” He asked and waited for your nod and then pressed the start button.

The countdown for the first picture began and you snuggled closer to Bob and he wrapped his arm around you, you both smiled as the first picture was taken. Then everything happened fast, Bob suddenly leant closer, he held your hand and then he suddenly kissed your cheek for the second picture. Then before you could overthink it you leant closer and kissed his cheek. Bob blushed as he suddenly felt the soft touch of your lips on his cheek. Bob shifted slightly so that he was facing you and gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, then he cupped your cheek softly and slowly leant close. He looked you in the eyes for a second, wanting to make sure that you really want this. You gave him a nod and closed the distance between the two of you, Bob smiled and then kissed you. The kiss was slow and gentle. The camera clicked right when Bob’s lips touched yours. When you slowly pulled away from his lips Bob placed his forehead against yours and then placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m in love with you.” Bob suddenly confessed and looked at you a bit shy but when you began to smile, Bob began to smile as well.

“Wait, really?” You asked and Bob chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m so in love with you. I’ve been for a while now.” Bob said with a smile and reached for your hand.

“I’m in love with you too.” You said and Bob’s smile grew and he leant closer again.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asked and you nodded. Bob leant closer again with a smile.

A while later you both stood outside of the booth, looking at the pictures in your hand with a smile. Then you tucked them safely into your bag and Bob tucked his into the pocket of his jacket, making sure that it doesn’t get broken. Bob placed a kiss on your cheek again and reached for your hand intertwining it with yours. You wandered around the festival again, holding each other close while you held the teddy bear with your other hand. While walking Bob was occasionally placing a kiss on your forehead or your cheek.

At this moment this was only about you two, no thoughts about how the others may react when you tell them, just you two walking around, being happy and feeling safe with each other.

Taglist:

@iristheplanet16 | @lovesflourmorethananything | @teascorner |

@stargirl-annie | @kelbrave @elixirfromthestars

[harddeckstories]

To Catch A Hint

Summary : No matter how obvious you make it for him, Bradley just cannot seem to get the hint.

Pairing : Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading💞

Word count : 3.9k

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Yo, Mickey give me the schedule, I want to see who’s playing on the main stage.” Reuben called out to his friend.

“I don’t have it, dude, you do.”

“No I gave it to you after lunch, remember ?”

Mickey pulled out the inside of his pocket to prove his point, “I have nothing.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Reuben turned to the rest of the guys who seemed deeply uninterested and not at all concerned.

“Anyone has it ?”

Jake who was showing something on his phone to Javy didn’t even look up, “do we have what ?”

Reuben pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, God were these guys incompetent when they weren’t flying at supersonic speed in a war machine.

“What are you sulking for, Payback ?” Natasha asked.

As soon as Bradley heard her voice, he looked up from his phone, on which he was pretending to be busy. Sure enough, you were right next to Natasha, back from your little trip to the bathroom.

Bradley had willed himself to not look too excited when Natasha had asked if you, her best friend, could accompany the squad on their outing to the music festival that had settled on the edge of town for a weekend. They all knew you pretty well by now, Natasha had already dragged you along to multiple hangouts with them. But it had only taken a few minutes after your first meeting for Bradley’s heart to do somersaults in his chest at the mere mention of your name. Still, he had yet to make a move. Why ? He didn’t really know. Each time he worked himself up to ask you out, or not even that, simply ask for your number, he would backtrack.

Bradley didn’t consider himself to be a shy guy, hell no. But there was something about you that made him a bit tongue tied whenever you were too close to him, and he would lie if he said that it didn’t embarrassed him a bit, at his age to still feel a schoolboy blush creeping up his cheeks when you sent a smile his way.

“Do you want me to hold your bag ?” Bradley asked, cringing a bit at how earnest he sounded.

You shook your head with a warm smile, “I’m okay, but thank you for proposing, that’s really nice.”

You affectionately squeezed his shoulder and Bradley’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. The sole, brief contact of your hand on his covered shoulder was enough to send butterflies flying in his stomach with the force of ten Super Hornets.

“Yo Rooster, did you get sunburnt on your cheeks ?” Jake questioned with a smug grin, finger pointing to his own cheeks to accentuate his point, “you’re super red.”

Bradley only glared at him, and before he could retort anything, Natasha hit Jake on the back of the head.

“Leave him alone, Bagman.” She warned while Jake looked at her, deeply offended and rubbing the back of his head like the overly dramatic man he was, “now come on troops, let’s go to the main stage. In the toilet, Y/N and I heard people talking about a huge band that’s gonna play there.”

Everyone agreed and quickly started walking towards the main stage. Bradley was walking beside you, instinctively matching your pace to stay close to you. The squad was already quite far ahead when Bradley noticed that you had — purposely ? — slowed down a bit, leaving the two of you separated from the group. And being, if only a little, isolated with you like that made him equally as nervous as it made him giddy.

“Jake’s right you know, your cheeks are kinda red, you should put on some sunscreen.” You said softly, eyes fixed on the crimson hue painting his face.

Hearing the words ‘Jake is right’ coming from your pretty lips perhaps shouldn’t have left such a big sour taste in his mouth. Bradley tried to swallow the feeling off and focused on trying to not blush any harder under your soft and worried gaze.

He cleared his throat, “yeah, I probably should.”

“I have some in my bag,” you said helpfully, looking in your tote bag for the orange tub.

Your concern and desire to help him felt like a soothing balm on his bruised ego and he couldn’t contain the small, sheepish smile that pulled at his lips.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

But when he made a move to grab the sunscreen tube you seemed to be holding out for him, you immediately retracted your hand out of his reach.

“Let me ?” You asked, a glint in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

Bradley let out a small, surprised, but nonetheless absolutely delighted laugh. He stopped in his tracks, slightly lowering himself so it’d be easier for you to reach his face, which had definitely darkened in shade by now.

“Go ahead.” He said, voice dripping with fondness.

The word ‘sweetheart’ almost slipped away from him but he managed to reined it in at the last second. You giggled softly and squirted a small amount of sunscreen on both of his cheeks.

“Let’s not forget the forehead and chin as well…” you mumbled under your breath, which made Bradley smile even more.

Very gently and carefully, maybe more than anyone had ever been with him, you began to rub the cream onto his cheeks, making sure that it was fully covering and protecting his face. The feeling of your delicate fingers almost affectionately rubbing his face was sending his heart into a frenzy, accompanied by a warmth that spread in his entire body. It felt so good and for a moment Bradley was conflicted between closing his eyes to enjoy the experience to its full extent, or stay like this, his gentle brown eyes gazing down at you with surely nothing short of adoration as you focused entirely on getting every little nook of his face.

When you finished, you cupped his face with infinite tenderness.

“There, you’re all good to go now.”

And as quick as you had put them on him, your hands were gone. And the intensity of the longing Bradley felt for your touch probably should have been concerning.

“Thank—“ his voice came out strangely hoarse and he was quick to clear his throat, “thank you, Y/N.”

You offered him a sweet smile, your hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder… for the second time in under ten minutes he noted.

“Well, looks like we lost them,” you said, when you turned your head to look at where the squad was suppose to be, just a bit ahead of you. In their place was now a whirlwind of people passing through, and none of them looked like cocky and overconfident naval aviators.

“It’s okay, we know where they’re going.” He said, voice dropping into a sweet and low register, the way it usually did around you.

Instinctively, and before he could do anything to rein it in, his hand reached out to yours, ready to protectively guide you into the swarming sea of people. And as soon as his hand made contact with yours, it finally registered in his mind. His hand retracted as if he’d been electrocuted by your touch.

“Sorry !” He said quickly, “I just thought— I mean I didn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, you know ?”

God, he was embarrassing himself.

Fearing to see repulsion on your features, his gaze fixated on the worn out and yellowing grass under his feet. A few seconds passed and the lack of any reaction coming from you made his heart sink at the bottom of his stomach. He had fucked it up, fucked it up before he could even make his interest clear, and after all perhaps it was for the best, at least he was fixed now, a girl like you couldn’t possibly be interested in a guy like him anyway—

Bradley’s whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts stopped dead in its tracks, rendered silent by your arms wrapping around his. His eyes snapped back up to meet yours.

“There, that way it’s more secure,” you explained, the warm smile never leaving your lips, “you won’t lose me.”

It was like time had froze for an instant, Bradley looked down at your bright smile that was meant for him, only for him at that moment and he physically felt his heart stutter. The feeling of your body pressed against his arm was almost too much for him, and the outline of your breasts against his arm downright felt like a test from God.

While willing his racing heart to calm down and his cheeks to not overheat, Bradley guided you in the crowd, making sure that nobody was jostling you too much. And his eyes immediately darted to you when he felt one of your hands slip away from his bicep. Just as quickly, he averted his gaze when he saw your hand going to the low neckline of your top, seemingly readjusting it, Bradley just prayed that you hadn’t follow his line of sight.

He was gonna move on, but when you repeated the movement three times just under the span of five minutes, Bradley felt like he could perhaps address the matter.

“Is everything alright ?”

“Yeah, it’s just—“ you did it again, hand coming up to slightly move your top, “this top is gorgeous but it’s itchy as hell.”

You were right. The top was gorgeous, more precisely it was gorgeous on you. All day, Bradley had willed himself to keep his eyes away from the pretty dip of the top which was showing off the swell of your breasts, the top made them sit so prettily, in a manner that had his mind spinning if he thought about it too long. But now that you mentioned it, the fabric indeed did not look very comfortable.

“I think it’s slowly starting to give my boobs a rash.”

Oh.

The mere mention of your chest had his cheeks flaming up again. Damn it, just when he had managed to get his blush under control.

Hearing you complain suddenly, and very strangely he had to admit, gave birth to an urge to fix your problem, provide a solution. And his brain was quick to find it.

“I can give you my shirt, if you want.” Bradley supplied before he had anymore time to think about it, and what was there to think about really ? He’d give you all his clothes in an instant if you’d asked.

You eyed his open Hawaiian shirt, “are you sure ?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I still have my tank top.”

You seemed to think about it for a second but made your mind pretty quickly.

“Well if it’s really not a bother then yeah, I’ll take it. Thank you, Bradley, that’s really nice of you.”

And then your hand came up to squeeze his bicep and Bradley wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to handle all your casual touches, which were very much not casual to him.

“Alright, let’s go to the toilets so you can change, yeah ?”

Turning back around and thus abandoning all the progress you had made in the crowd, you made your way towards the toilet.

“Oh god.” Was the only thing you were able to say as Bradley and you gazed at the endless waiting lines in front of each of the five portable toilets installed by the festival crew. “There literally were only five people ten minutes ago. I’m not waiting half an hour just to change clothes.”

Bradley’s mind was racing, trying to find another solution for you to change with the privacy you deserved. There was no way he would let you change outside here for everyone to see—

“I’ll just change outside.”

His head whipped towards you so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Outside ?!” He repeated, deeply offended and distressed you would even suggest something like that.

But his alarmed tone didn’t faze you, a small smile pulled at your lips, a mix of mischief and warmth that was doing dangerous things to him, “yeah, we’ll find a quiet corner, plus, you’ll shield me, right ?”

Like his life depended on it.

Thus, similar as a man on a mission, Bradley looked for a quiet place in the midst of the festival’s craziness. Anywhere near the toilets was out of questions, as well as any of the stages. Too much people.

Finally, Bradley managed to get you to a more tranquil space, just near some hotdog food truck, he found it bizarre to see a food stand without anyone agglutinating in front of it, but one look at the hotdogs quickly supplied him with all the answers. The trailer was empty, so he ushered you behind it, in the corner. He hastily took off his shirt, opened it wide open to cover you so nobody could even think of taking a glimpse.

“Alright, try to make it quick.” Bradley turned his head to give you privacy and also to look out for any creeps.

He heard you chuckle, along with the sound of moving fabric. “Who knew you could be so assertive ?” You teased.

But Bradley cringed at the tone he had dared to use with you, “sorry I didn’t—“

“No, it’s fine.” The smile in your voice was evident, “I like it.”

Gazing out in the empty part of the festival field, he tried not to say anything stupid now and ruin all the progress he’d made. He felt his shirt slip from his fingers as you delicately took it from him, promptly, he turned around, his back facing you and continued to stretch out his arms to shield you.

After a few seconds he heard you put something in your bag and then your fingers went to gently tap his shoulders.

Terrified of misinterpreting your cue, he asked, “can I turn around ?”

“Yes you can,” you agreed in an endeared laugh.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight blessing his eyes. Standing with a sheepish smile, you were showing off your new outfit to him. Outfit composed mainly of his Hawaiian shirt, falling onto your smaller frame perfectly. The few top buttons were opened, allowing the fabric to reveal just the beginning of the valley between your breasts before draping delicately over them.

Bradley felt like his brain short circuited. You looked nothing short of ethereal in his clothing. And the thought that right now, something of his was touching your arms, your stomach, your breasts… you, was entirely too much.

“Well ? How do I look ?” You prompted, facing his silence.

Bradley cleared his throat, “you— you look good. Great actually, it suits you better than me,” he tried to joke lightly, except it was nowhere near a joke, it was the pure, blatant truth and the casual laugh he had opted for sounded awfully hoarse.

Your smile widened and only then did Bradley catch the way your eyes seemed to be raking appreciatively over his now uncovered shoulders and arms. He preened on the inside and subconsciously puffed up his chest a little, desperately trying to appeal to you in anyway.

“Should we go find the others ?”

“Yeah.” Instinctively, you went back to his side, your arms snaking around his.

While trying to make your way back to the main stage, you passed by a relatively small one surrounded by quite a lot of people, quite the contrast compared to the size of the stage. Lively music was booming from the speakers, and the crowd was happily moving along to the beat. Bradley’s fast pace was suddenly cut short when you gently held him back, tugging lightly on his arm.

“Is everything okay ?”

“Let’s dance, Bradley.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“D— dance ? What about the others ? Don’t you want to get back to them ?”

“Not yet. Right now, I want to dance with you.”

Akin to an angel who came down on earth to bless him with your smile and presence, you gently pulled him towards the middle of the makeshift dance floor, giving him time to backtrack if he wanted to, but there wasn’t any world out there in which Bradley could ever pull away from you. The music suddenly changed. The rhythmic tunes subdued by the gentle sway of a slow dance.

“Ohh, look at that, perfect timing.” You smiled up at him.

Bradley was usually a good dancer, a pretty smooth one if he said so himself, comfortable in his body and the way it moved. But right now all his muscles were stiff, rendered useless and rigid under your expectant gaze.

“Don’t look so nervous,” you chuckled, taking his hands and placing them on your waist.

“I’m not.” He lied, not very convincingly.

Bradley prayed to God that you couldn’t feel the way his hands were slowly becoming clammier as they hesitantly rested on you. Your arms went around his neck, getting a bit closer to him. You swayed naturally to the slow beat of the song, taking him with you, and soon, guided by your elegant steps and soft words of encouragement, Bradley relaxed. Your fingers were lightly playing with the hair on his nape, and the occasional small drag of your nails there was rendering him putty in your hands, a tiny, delighted shiver going down his spine everytime. And for a moment, it seemed as if the crowd had disappeared, leaving you and Bradley alone, he was bathing in your attention and nothing had ever felt this good.

Your eyes were all too warm as they gazed up at him, just the tiniest bit squinted from the smile that never seemed to leave your lips whenever you were in his presence. And Bradley’s heart did somersaults in his chests when he caught your gaze flicking, almost imperceptibly, to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” Bradley whispered in an attempt to not break the moment, voice a bit husky from the closeness he shared with you.

You let out a small, endeared laugh. It was a stupid compliment, you both knew it. It wasn’t dancing, if anything it was more gently swaying and stepping to the side every once in a while, but he’d take any chance to compliment you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And by God did he want to know everything.

And just as he was about to finally voice this consuming desire, the music faded out, immediately replaced by loud drums, shattering the moment in the same time as the courage he had been mustering up all evening.

“Don’t look so gloom.” You almost cooed.

Shit, his face must have shown how annoyed he was at himself. Why couldn’t he just make a move ? The answer came too quick. What if you rejected him ? Bradley didn’t mind getting turned down, sure it was a little humbling at times, but it wasn’t that deep. But coming from you ? That was an entirely different story. One he wouldn’t be able to cope with if it ended badly.

Your voice got him out of his sulking turmoil.

“Bradley ?”

His eyes immediately snapped towards you.

“Yes ?” Voice going a bit high pitched at the end.

A chuckle passed your lips and Bradley got hit with a bone chilling realization, had you just been laughing all day at his inability to act like a normal person around you ? Did you think he was weird ? After all, you never really had the opportunity to truly see what he was like, since he was so guarded and uptight around you. Perhaps you thought he was the awkward, weird one of the squad. Oh god, what if you were just being nice to him out of pity ?

“Could you drive me home, please ? I’m a bit tired.”

That was it. You were tired of him, done, didn’t even want to go back to the squad.

“Are you sure ? Didn’t you want to stay for dinner at the Hard Deck after ?” He tried to reason, having a difficulty swallowing the lump in his throat. “The squad is gonna wonder where we are.”

“Yeah I’m sure, I’d like to go home, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, no problem.”

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least make sure you got home safe after making you endure his presence all day.

“And don’t worry your pretty head about the squad, they’ll manage just fine without us.” You squeezed his shoulder for the nth time tonight, and when it had felt thrilling just a few minutes earlier, it just felt painful now.

“Alright.” Bradley hoped his smile came across as kind and did not convey any of the dread he was feeling up forming a pit in his stomach.

The drive to your house felt awfully charged to Bradley, and not in the way he usually liked. The soft hum from the radio was the only thing filling in the silence in the car. The sun was well set into its descending phase now, subduing a red and pink glow for the dark of the night. Bradley was unusually quiet, in the hopes of getting you the peace and quiet he thought you were looking for, after spending the last part of the evening babysitting him.

“Bradley ?”

God did he love hearing his name coming out of your mouth, and he prayed that after the awkward teenage boy act he had pulled tonight, that he would be given the chance to hear it again.

His eyes flicked over to you, seeing your hands playing with the buttons of his shirt on your chest.

“Yeah ?”

“You really are an oblivious guy, aren’t you ?”

Frowning, Bradley fully turned his head to get a look at you. His eyes widened when he saw you undoing every single button of the Hawaiian shirt, the fabric draping gracefully over your breasts, revealing the valley in between them. He quickly turned his gaze back to the road, his pulse roaring in his ears… and traveling quickly somewhere down south.

“I— um, I’m not sure, what is—“ his eyes flicked to you again, shirt open, your head was lolled to the side, looking at him with something he realized he might have misinterpreted from the start, his gaze returned on the road, taking the turn that led to your house, “what are you saying ?”

You let out a giggle as Bradley parked in front of your place, your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your gaze traveled to his mouth, a smile stretching yours. Wordlessly, you got out of the car. Confused, and ridiculously turned on, he got out as well, rounding the car and watching you walk to your door while he just stood there, unsure of what else to do. Did you want him to walk you to your door ? Did you want him to just leave you the fuck alone…? He was so confused.

And so he just watched as you unlocked your door and walked in… without ever closing it. You turned around in your entrance hall, eyes boring into his despite the meters separating you.

“If you didn’t catch the hint,” you said, and Bradley watched wide eyed as you let the shirt slip off your shoulders and fall gracefully to the ground, baring yourself to him, “that was an invitation for you to get in.”

Oh yeah, he definitely got it now.

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Author's note : I like to imagine Bradley as either this very observant and aware guy, or totally oblivious, there is no middle ground. Also I’m still having a bit of trouble writing Bradley and characterizing him so if you think I wrote him out of character too much, please do tell !!

Alsoooo there are 300 of you guys following me, that’s insane !! Thank you so much, I’m really honored. I have some very excited things coming up and I can’t wait to share them with you all !! Thanks again💞💞

[harddeckstories]

Lost And Found

Summary : Despite how much he irritates you, when Jake loses his father’s watch, you go to the moon and back to bring it back to him.

Pairing : Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader

Important info : Your call sign is Lightning ⚡️ :)

Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading !💞

Word count : 5.5k

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“Lightning watch out !”

You barely had time to register that Javy was screaming your call sign before a ball came crushing down next to you, sending sand flying everywhere on your opened book and sticky, lathered in sunscreen, skin.

Beautiful colors of pink and violet were painting the sky, the sun beginning his descent towards the western aerosphere. It had shined brightly throughout the entirety of the squad’s monthly beach day, bathing your skin in warmth and golden light.

“For fuck’s sake, Javy ! You guys can shoot down a target from two hundred feet while flying at Mach one but you can’t aim a volleyball for shit !” You snapped, dusting the thousands of grains of sands from your book and towel.

Next to you Natasha was hiding a laugh behind her own book.

Pointing a finger at her, you warned, “don’t you dare laugh at me, Nat.” You got up to brush off more sand off your legs, “that’s why I hate going to the beach with them, there’s nothing less relaxing on this earth,” you mumbled out, a frown making the lines on your forehead prominent.

“My bad, Lightning !” Jake called out, his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound, though his tone was very much not apologetic, and the smirk stretching his lips only fueled the irritation simmering under your skin.

Glaring at him, you debated for a second on yelling back a piece of your mind, indulge into this game he seemed to initiate anytime he could. Riling you up, provoking you and then simply grinning like an idiot when you eventually ended up taking the bait.

But for once, you decided to be the bigger person. So you settled on raising your middle finger high enough that he could very much identify what lovely sign you were throwing his way.

“I love you too, darlin’ !” He yelled back.

You rolled your eyes so hard you feared for a moment that they’d get permanently stuck.

“Careful, you’re blushing,” Natasha snickered, still lying next to you.

Scoffing you flipped her off as well, “which side are you on ?”

“The side of love, darlin’.” She smiled in a perfect imitation of Jake’s Texan drawl.

You couldn’t have contained the laugh that broke out of you even if you tried, “shit, you actually sound just like him.”

“I know,” she cooed, obviously proud of her trick, “is it turning you on ?” She inquired, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

A shocked laugh escaped you, “Geez Nat—“

“OH MY GOD WHAT TIME IS IT ?” Javy’s sudden gasp made you both jump as he came running towards you, where all of the squad’s stuff was and he started abruptly digging through his bag.

“It’s seven.” Bob supplied after a quick look to his watch.

“I was supposed to meet my mom for dinner fifteen minutes ago,” he explained, panicked as he was hastily grabbing all his stuff and throwing it carelessly in his bag. “Jake, can you drive me ?”

Usually, you carpooled to avoid bringing everyone’s car and having to park too far away if the beach was busy that day.

“Let me think about it…” Jake walked over, deliberately slow, pretending to think it over.

Javy groaned, not in the mood to entertain his friend’s antics, “come on, man.”

Jake sped up a bit, raising his arms in mock defense, “alright, alright, don’t throw a fit mama’s boy. I’ll drive you.”

As he was gathering his own stuff, you suddenly saw him frown, and then frantically look around. Lifting his towel, emptying his bag only to pack it again, passing his hands in the sand in visible hope of stumbling upon something…

You were about to throw in a witty remark when you noticed something missing on his wrist.

His watch.

His father’s watch.

In its place was now a tanning line. A ribbon of whiter skin surrounded by his Californian and natural Texan tan.

It didn’t take a genius, nor being Jake’s best friend to know how precious that watch was to him, or to guess that it might have been one of the last few things left from his dad.

He wore it at all times. There weren’t much occasion you had seen him without it ever since you’d met him. It had stayed securely around his wrist all throughout Naval Academy, and then had stayed through every one of his deployment until he got permanently assigned in San Diego. During every flight, every mission, every exam even, every casual outing… You could always see the watch rest proudly on his cuff. Perhaps it was the only thing about him Jake didn’t feel the need to flex, a quiet legacy he carried around with him, feeling the weight of it in his every move, every decision.

The only times he ever took it off was during underwater training and at the beach if he went for a swim. Surely a watch like that was waterproof and even capable of descending a few feet deep, but the fact that Jake was unwilling to bring it with him in an environment it was specifically designed to survive in, was only another proof of its value to him.

He never talked about it. Never ever voiced the words ‘my dad’ out loud, but everyone knew. You knew.

Javy was ready to go, packed bag at his feet as he hastily threw in a t-shirt over his head, “Jake ? Are you good to go ?”

Jake froze for a moment. It was rare to see him display anything other than sheer haughtiness. And it weirdly tugged at your heartstrings to see him look so lost for an instant.

You were about to help him look for his watch — sure you hated him, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel empathy for him losing something so precious to him, when—

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He said a bit absentmindedly, his eyes still frantically looking around as he stuffed, slightly violently, all his stuff in his backpack.

He quickly got up, threw the bag over his shoulder as Javy was waving everyone goodbye and starting to make a run for Jake’s truck.

You watched Jake with a shock you hoped wasn’t too visible. Yes, he was the emotionally constipated type, never one to speak about feelings or do so much as even mention or acknowledge them, but surely when he was about to lose, perhaps forever, the one thing that probably meant more to him than the whole world, he would say something, express himself, let it out.

And you knew that if he’d speak up right now, the whole squad would stop everything and help him look for it. Javy would run right back on the warm sand and rampage through the entire beach if he had to.

Surely, he had to know that the squad wouldn’t see him as weak over getting a little panicked upon losing the one item he held so dearly in his heart ?

But you watched, stunned, and for some reason with a weight pressing down on your chest, as Jake looked one last time at the beach, eyes boring into the sand as if the distance would give him some perspective and help him spot the watch in a nanosecond.

“See you on Monday,” he threw to everyone over his shoulder, soundly halfhearted as he turned around and began to walk towards his truck, joining Javy.

The image stuck with you for some reason. it was like seeing him willingly abandon a piece of himself behind, and for what ? Just so he could hold on to his ‘feelings make you weak’ Hangman persona ?

If you had been closer to him, and in any place at all to call him out on this, you would have screamed at him. Yanked him back by the collar and prohibited anyone to leave this beach until the watch wasn’t back on its rightful place, on Jake’s wrist.

“I think I’m gonna head out as well,” Reuben spoke up, “does anyone want me to drop them home ?”

“Me please,” cheered Mickey, dusting some sands off his chest.

“Yes, please. Thanks Reuben,” Bob smiled, gathering his things.

“I’ll ride with Y/N, we’re gonna head back as well, right ?” Natasha turned to you.

If you had been able to say anything other than insults and provocative remarks, you would have reassured him.

If you had been able to consider yourself his friend, you would have helped him look for it.

“Y/N ?”

But you were capable of none nor were you any of those things.

And still—

“Actually I’m gonna stay a bit longer,” you blurted out without really thinking about it.

“You sure ?” Natasha questioned, skeptical.

“Yeah, the sunset is beautiful, it’s still warm and my book is getting really good, I’ll stay for a bit.” You assured, as if trying to convince yourself more than Natasha.

“Alright,” she conceded, still eyeing you a bit suspiciously, “be careful, you text me when you get home and don’t forget that Penny’s right next door if you have any problem,” she pointed to the Hard Deck which was facing the beach.

“Yes mom,” you chuckled as she playfully rolled her eyes at you.

As Reuben’s car drove away, you stood there for a moment. Watching the waves crash on the beach, the soothing sound of it blending with the distant echo of music coming from the Hard Deck. This beach wasn’t an especially popular one, and you marveled for a second at being the only person standing there.

Why had you stayed ?

You kinda had blurted it out without any real thoughts of what you would actually do once left alone.

Because you hadn’t stayed for the sunset or your book, in fact, the book was getting a bit boring if you were honest.

Jake’s expression when being met with the realization he’d lost his watch suddenly flashed into your mind and it made your heart clench. And perhaps it was what prompted you to start digging in the sand where his towel had previously been lying.

“I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” you muttered to yourself while rummaging through the sand, the watch couldn’t be far… right ?

You didn’t even notice when the warm light of the sunset got subsided by the sharp, white one of the moon.

The spot where the squad had previously established its camp was empty. You didn’t find anything apart from a few seashells and a colony of small crabs that you had probably woken up from their slumber.

You probably should have gone home. The watch obviously wasn’t there. But then your gaze drifted out towards the ocean… the guys usually played volleyball closer to the water, perhaps Jake had lost the watch around there ?

The cold breeze coming from the ocean had started to pick up as you searched the grounds of what was previously the volleyball court.

And when you didn’t find anything there, you moved on to other parts of the beach, trying to remember and retrace the entirety of Jake’s steps during the day. Your knees were aching from being constantly on them, hands pruned from the wet sand you’d been digging up, nails completely darkened by the grains. Your phone was slowly dying, using all its battery to shine inside the holes you were digging up, desperate to see a flash of silver. And it was cold, so, so cold. The wind was getting stronger, making you clutch your hoodie tighter around yourself.

The moon had well settled into the sky now, an indicator of just how much time you’d spent there.

You had wanted to give up, oh so many times. But everytime you had wanted to get up and leave, an image of Jake’s face would flash back into your mind. The way he had looked back at the beach, like he was saying goodbye to his dad a second time. And every time, without fail, your brain had conjured images of him getting home, and calling his mom back in Texas, telling her about how he had lost the watch and the image was just too painful for you, enough to bring unwanted and in your opinion, unjustified, tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much.

Anyone could have argued you were being overly dramatic over a guy who you proclaimed your hatred towards from the rooftops. And you would have agreed. But you wouldn’t leave this beach until the watch was secured in your hands.

You were on your hands and knees, near shore where the water was gently lapping up at the sand, bringing new things and taking away some when—

“Y/N ! Is that you ?”

Penny’s voice from the front of the beach made you jumped.

“Jesus Christ, Penny !” You exclaimed, a hand over your racing heart, “you scared the shit out of me !”

Jogging up lightly to meet her, you saw her frown when she took in the state of you, her worried face illuminated by the Hard Deck’s sign.

“What are you doing out there, sweetheart ?” She asked softly, and you could perceive the same tone in her voice she’d use with Amelia sometimes, no doubt that her maternal instinct were kicking in, seeing you all alone, covered in sand and digging up holes in the dark.

“Oh I was— I lost my bracelet earlier, you know we had our beach day with the squad ? Yeah, so the bracelet means a lot to me and I— I couldn’t leave without it.”

You pestered Jake for being emotionally constipated but you couldn’t even admit to Penny, of all people, sweetest woman alive who’d never judge you, that you were doing this solely for him.

“I see,” she said, an empathetic smile pulling at her lips, “I’ll help you.”

“No don’t worry Penny, it’s alright, promise. I’m all good.”

Was there a sick part of you that wanted to be the one to find Jake’s watch ? Maybe, you would deny all of it thought.

“At least I’ll wait for you, I just closed the bar.”

“Don’t worry,” you repeated with the sweetest smile you could mutter out at the moment, “I won’t stay much longer anyway.”

“You sure ?”

“I am, thank you though that’s really nice of you.”

“Could you at least activate your location please ? And also text me when you get home, okay ?”

Saluting her you let out a chuckle, “I will, Penny. Promise.”

“Alright.” She conceded, bregrundly.

She knew this beach was safe, otherwise she would have never left you alone. You parted with a warm hug and watched her drive away, similar to how you’d watched your friends leave a few hours ago now… God, had it been really that much time ?

You were beginning to lose hope, Jake’s watch seemed to have truly vanished, and you tried to ignore the heavy feeling sitting on your chest that came along with this conclusion. Telling yourself to check towards the west side of the beach before leaving, though you knew it was useless, you couldn’t really recall Jake going there, you still crouched, and began to dig, again…

Phone flash blasting in the dark, the light reflected on something then…. Silver !

“Oh my god !”

You rubbed your eyes to make sure the sight in front of you was real and not the fatigue making you hallucinate. But it was real, the small silver circle was still there.

“Oh my god !” You exclaimed again in a laugh, immediately digging in.

And sure enough, the watch was there. Covered in sand, but there. You carefully inspected it for damage, but other than the general dirt, it seemed fine.

Turning the watch over, your eyes caught something. The initials of who you could only guess was his father were delicately engraved in the metal, G.S. Before you could even think about it, your thumb passed, almost tenderly over the gravure.

A small, disbelieving laugh escaped you again, and it was incredibly chocked up. You didn’t even notice you’d been tearing up until you felt something wet roll down your cheeks.

Quickly you wiped the tears off, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up your neck even though you were the sole person standing on this beach, moonlight illuminating your figure.

Forcing your emotions to settle down, it was only a watch for Christ’s Sake, you practically ran all the way back to your car. It felt as if your whole body was buzzing, and you couldn’t explain this weird feeling of excitement and… was it fulfillment ?

A genuine giddiness was coursing through your veins as you drove home, you couldn’t wait for Jake to have his watch again. See him settle, knowing his father’s legacy was in him, like it’s always been and always would be, but the physical representation of it, back on his wrist. The comforting weight of it bringing meaning to every one of his moves.

The excitement kept you awake once you were home, so you took the time to carefully clean the watch. You physically couldn’t give it back to him like that. And soon enough, once you were sure that there was not even the tiniest grain of sand left in any notches, only then, did sleep finally caught up to you.

The sun wasn’t even up yet when you made your way to base the next morning. You had decided that you would just leave the watch in his locker, he didn’t need to know who found it, and maybe he wouldn’t be too happy to see you holding his father’s watch, considering you hated each other…. Right ? At least that’s what you told yourself.

Arriving in front of his locker, you opened his numbered lock, honestly who was stupid enough to put in their birthday as a password ?

But then, anyone could argue that it was weird you knew his birthday, as someone who hated him so much.

Refusing to give this any more thought, you neatly placed the watch in his locker, on a little rag. You made sure one last time that it was perfectly clean, made sure it was not askew, made the sure the rag wasn’t wrinkled…. And for a moment it felt as if you were stalling.

“My god, I need to get a grip,” you mumbled to yourself, finally closing the locker door, a bit more forcefully than you had intended.

“I’m telling you, my mom is obsessed with getting me in a relationship !” Javy complained to Jake on their way to the locker room, “last night she just kept showing me pictures of her friends’ daughters and being like ‘you two would make an adorable couple’ like, oh my god, can’t a man go at his own pace ?”

Jake only hummed, not exactly in the mood to discuss Javy’s mom self proclaimed matrimonial agency.

Each of his step was heavy. Heavy with the lack of sleep and the mass pressing down on his chest. The missing weight on his wrist made him feel strangely stripped bare, like a piece of himself was missing, left where he had abandoned it on the beach the night before.

When Jake had gotten home after dropping Javy off, he had cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he had actually walked away, without even taking the time to look for the watch, no he had just left.

He had to refrain back tears when his mom had called him that night, asking him about his day, and he hadn’t had the courage to tell her what had happened, consumed by sorrow and shame. He felt pathetic. He spent that entire night sulking, thinking about how ashamed his father would be if he saw him like that. It felt like letting him down.

“Like she doesn’t get that I don’t want to settle down, I mean not yet anyway—“

“Yeah, tell her you want to keep bringing girls home from the Hard Deck every weekend for a little while longer, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it.” Jake finally answered Javy’s rant, trying to give his remark its usual wit.

“You fucking jerk, you’re supposed to be on my side !” Javy whined, opening up his locker.

Jake was abort to retort something but the words died on the tip of his tongue when he opened his own locker.

He froze.

He was met with his watch. Neatly placed on a small rag, looking as new as the day he had received it from his dad, just a few days before losing his battle against cancer.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest. How ?

Jake stayed there for what felt like an eternity to him, but was only a few mere seconds, just staring at the watch. He could faintly hear Javy next to him still talking, now rambling about how his mother compared him to his cousin or whatever, but the sound of his voice was drawn out, an echo in Jake’s ears.

With shaky hands, he gently grabbed the watch and immediately turned it over, eyes fixed on his father’s initials that he traced with a tender pass of his thumb, and his heart clenched, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotion.

He had no idea how the watch had gotten there, and perhaps it should have worried him a bit more — whoever this was had cracked the impossible code of his locker for Goodness’s sake ! — but he chose to pay it no mind.

Now Jake wasn’t superstitious or a believer of any kind, far from it, actually. But in this moment, he chose to believe that whatever, whoever had found his watch and brought it back to him, had somehow been missioned by his father, who had probably been very upset about his son being so careless with the precious time teller.

Jake knew it was stupid, truly. His father, from the beyond, somehow orchestrating a whole plan to find the watch left on the beach and leave it in his locker on base, was a stupid theory. But the thought of it made a warmth spread out in his chest and his eyes sting slightly. So he decided that for once, he would let himself believe in a little stupidity.

This weird mix of euphoria and serenity hadn’t left him the entire week. He felt good, more confident now that the watch was back on his wrist. And he would sometimes just stare at it for a few moments, in amazement and incredible gratefulness for having been given a second chance, that’s how he saw it. And he would honor his father in every action he took while securely wearing the watch.

He had found a new vigor, a new desire to win, one that made him better, he thought. Though the squad would probably argue it just made him more insufferable.

So that’s with a pumped up step that Jake walked into the Hard Deck that week end, closely followed by everyone.

“Alright, what do you guys want ?” He cheered, still in an exceptionally good mood.

The squad all gave him their orders before going to find some seats, you merely grumbled a ‘nothing that comes from you’ and somehow, Jake understood it meant a virgin mojito.

He made his way to the bar, patiently waiting for Penny to finish off her conversation with a customer.

“Hey, sailor !” She greeted with a smile when she saw him, “what can I get you and the squad ?”

After he told her, she started to prepare the drinks on front of him, making small talk, asking about training, how life was on base when—

“Oh by the way,” she seemed to remember, momentarily stopping the making of your virgin mojito to look at Jake, “do you know if Y/N found her bracelet ?”

Jake frowned, confused.

“Um, I don’t know. I didn’t know she had lost a bracelet,” he said, head turning slightly to look for you in the crowd and he suddenly frowned more, looking back at Penny, “in fact, I didn’t even know she wore bracelets, her wrists are usually bare.”

“Oh, because I saw her last week, after your guy’s beach day. I closed the bar a little earlier than usual because it was pretty quiet, and she was there, digging in the sand, looking for her bracelet. I proposed to help her but she said she was fine. It was quite late though, so it really must have mean a lot to her, that’s why I was wondering if she’d found it. But I’ll ask her myself later then, thanks Jake.”

Penny’s words had the effect of a sledgehammer hitting Jake right in the chest. The realisation dawned on him and he froze for a moment, not sure what to do with the newfound piece of information.

“You okay ?” Penny asked him, his shock seemingly visible on his features.

Her voice got him out of his trance.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, thank you for the drinks Penny, talk to you later !”

He made a beeline for the spot the squad had settled in, their usual one, next to one the pool tables. He absentmindedly handed the drinks to everyone, keeping your virgin mojito in his hands and making his way over to you. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it was borderline painful. It seemed as though his vision had zeroed in on you, only you. Images of you on the beach at night, cold, alone, tired but still looking for his watch flashed into his mind and he felt a knot get caught up in his throat.

He barely heard the ‘thank you’s’ the squad threw him.

Leaning over some of the high tables near the windows, you were watching Mickey, Reuben and Bob engage in a heated game of pool.

“No Mickey it’s still my turn,” you watched with a smile as Reuben interjected his friend, “you sinked the cue ball so I get to shoot twice, gosh you’d think that you’d know the rules after playing literally every week end !”

You snorted, amused by their banter. And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake walking towards you. Expression unreadable but his step visibly determined.

Arriving in front of you, he practically shoved the drink in your hand.

“I told you I didn’t want anything,” you said, monotonously, nonetheless still grabbing the glass.

Any excuse was good enough to start a fight with him.

You turned your gaze back to the pool game unfolding in front of you, but when the quick wit you were expecting from him never came, you turned back to him, frowning.

His jade green eyes were trained on you. Chest rising up quickly, like he’d ran a marathon before coming here. You didn’t think you had ever seen him so… moved.

“You good ?” You asked, letting your tone convey the tiniest bit of concern.

Jake took a shaky breath, “why didn’t you tell me ?”

The hand that was bringing the glass to your lips froze halfway through.

“Tell you what ?”

“My watch.” Was all he said, eyes still boring into yours, seemingly looking for answers you were absolutely not intent on giving.

Your eyes quickly flicked to the leather band sitting proudly on his wrist.

You had noticed it all week, how it was right back on shining on his cuff. How Jake had seemed to smile even more cockily than before, brighter. And you hadn’t been able to ignore the weird, warmth feeling spreading in your chest every-time you had caught him eyeing his wrist with a flash of pride and cherish.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, forcing yourself to keep an annoyed tone as your eyes flicked back up to meet his.

“There’s no use in lying, I know it was you.” He said, voice firm and steady despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to choke him up, “why ?”

You weren’t known to give up that easily.

“Jesus Seresin, I literally told you I have no idea what you’re talking about, go win at darts or something, leave me alone.”

Swallowing uncomfortably under his prying gaze, you silenced the tiny voice in your head that was telling you just how much similar to Jake you were in terms of showing feelings.

Facing your stubborn resolve in not telling him the truth, Jake let out a small, humorless laugh, “Y/N I just want to thank you properly, so please, for once, just let up.”

Let up. Stop fighting me for a second, was really what he was saying. And looking at him be willing to be honest and open for once did something to you.

“I did it because you looked all pathetic, okay ? And really, I didn’t want you sulking all day on base and mess up every training.” you finally conceded, tone annoyed despite the loud thumping of your heart in your chest, “besides it was just underneath where you had put down your towel, so really you could’ve found it if you had put a bit more effort into it. But I guess that it’s just another thing I’m better at than you, huh ?”

It was a complete lie. And both of you knew it.

Just the fact that you had been the only one to notice he had lost his watch told him everything he needed to know. And he knew from Penny that you had stayed well past midnight looking for it. To see you in front of him, knowing the length you had been to for him — despite what you were saying — made his heart do something inexplicable.

And Jake moved before he could think any more about it. He slightly bent down to wrap his arms around you, slipping under your own and hugging your middle, bringing you into his chest, chin resting on your shoulder, head touching yours.

All your muscles stiffened on instinct. The contact took you by surprise and you stayed frozen like that for a second, letting him hold you without reciprocating the touch.

He was warm, very warm. His arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped across your shoulder blades and the other one across your waist. His body was firm against yours and for a moment, you almost thought you could feel the thumping of his heart against your chest. Your head was resting just shy of the crook of his neck, on his shoulder, and despite yourself, you caught a whiff of his smell, residue of jet fuel, his expensive cologne, the warmth of his skin and something so undeniably him it almost made your head spin.

“Thank you,” he whispered shakily, a small crack in his Hangman armor.

Those words and his tone felt like a detonator, hearing him sounding so small almost broke your heart. It only took a second after that for your arms to wrap around his neck. And as soon as your arms made contact, you felt his whole body relax and melt into you.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered back, rubbing his back comfortingly.

He seemed so small in this moment and it pulled at your heartstrings to know he was letting you be the one to seem him like that.

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” He murmured into your neck.

Oh, but you did. That was the whole reason you had done it.

It seemed as thought the entire bar had gone quiet, leaving only Jake and you, wrapped up in each other. You had no idea how long you stayed like that. But you certainly weren’t complaining, your arms tightening around him was met with the same intensity from Jake.

But the sudden sharp sound of a glass hitting the floor and shattering in pieces took you both out of the peaceful and comfort trance the embrace had took you both in. And you both found yourselves pulling away, reluctantly.

You noticed the slight pink hue dusting Jake’s cheeks, and his green eyes were bright, almost glassed over, shining with unshed tears.

God knew that if you had the courage you would take him into another embrace right here and then, and not let him go until the first rays of sunshine peaked through the windows, or realistically, probably until Penny kicked you out.

But unable to succumb to your deepest desire, no matter how much you wanted to, you instead fell back into your old ways.

“Try not to lose it again, cause I won’t get it for you next time.” You warned, though your tone was missing its usual bite.

You would.

You would do it all over a hundred times if needed.

Jake let out a laugh, a bit choked up, but a genuine one nonetheless.

“I promise.” He said in a smile as bright as a thousand suns.

And you had a scary realization then.

That in fact, there was not a lot you wouldn’t do to see him smile like that again.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

author's note : I have had this fic idea for literally forever and I’m so happy I finally got down to write it.

I really wanted to kinda ‘dig deep’ into Jake’s character here, I hope it worked and that I was able to do him justice. He’s my baby I love him so much.💞

Also quick question, are we sick of Jake and reader being rivals ? It’s like my favorite trope with Jake and the only one I really see fit with a character like him, and I have so many more ideas but they are all with rival reader and I don’t want it to feel redundant for you guys, so tell me what you think !

[callsign-mayhem]

One bed trope with Bradley Bradshaw is a need!! The reader is a little shy (very little) and Bradley is always loudly flirting with her too. It just makes sense. Maybe some misarrangements during a destination wedding for a dagger squad member makes this event happen.

no vacancy (b.b)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Shy!Reader Word count: 10.5k CW: Slightly explicit content towards the end, MINORS DNI. Use of Y/N, a few swears.

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! This one got away from me a bit, so I hope it's not too far off what you had in mind. I had the best time writing this one! The one-bed trope never gets old.

Javy Machado’s wedding was supposed to be a relaxing getaway for you.

He and his wife-to-be, Paisley, had chosen Cabo for their destination wedding, and you were more excited at the prospect of a getaway with your squad than the actual ceremony.

If that made you a bad friend, then so be it.

It was a miracle that you’d all been granted leave for the three-night extravaganza, and you intended to make the most of every second. Your suitcase was full of brand new bikinis with matching sunglasses for each, paperbacks you’d been meaning to read for months, and two cute outfits for each day in case you wanted to change in the evenings. Your wedding outfit was in a separate garment bag, slung over your forearm.

The resort Javy and Paisley had picked was, quite frankly, magical—funny since it was situated in a “Pueblo Mágico,” which translated to “magical town.” Located in Todos Santos on the Pacific coast of Baja California Sur, it had its own private beach with clear blue water and white sand. Plenty of art galleries and surf spots surrounded the area if you fancied any excursions, although you had every intention of spending most of your free time lounging by the pool or swimming in the ocean.

Penny and Maverick checked in first, then the rest of your squad. Everyone was paired off and given their room keys, leaving just you and Bradley. Jake shot you a cheeky wink as he followed Nat across the foyer, and your skin prickled as realisation dawned on you.

‘You two are booked into one of our ocean-view rooms on the third floor,’ the receptionist said with a warm smile. ‘I’m going to give you two key cards, but if you lose them, let me know, and I can make you another.’

Your eyes flicked to Bradley, who had a shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

‘We’re sharing a room?’ He asked.

The receptionist frowned and glanced between the two of you with a confused expression on her face.

‘You’re Mr Bradshaw? And Miss Y/LN?’ She queried. ‘I’ve got you two down to share, as the rest of the rooms are filled with other guests from the Machado wedding party.’

You groaned internally as Bradley’s smile widened. ‘No worries,’ he said, taking the keys.

No worries? Of course he’d say that. And of course you’d be the one stuck sharing with him. Javy probably thought he was hilarious, orchestrating this. You made a mental note to tell him exactly what you thought of that when you saw him at dinner tonight.

It was an ongoing thing: Bradley’s overbearing and loud attempts at flirting with you and your hurriedness in shutting him down. Objectively, you knew he was attractive. And despite his loudness, he was funny, kind, and reliable. Bradley Bradshaw was the kind of guy most women tripped over themselves to be with, and rightly so.

But you?

You’d always believed that you were too quiet for someone like him.

He didn’t seem to share this belief, and he flirted with you every chance he got. Sometimes you wondered if he was just doing it for the bit, but he hadn’t been with anyone else for as long as you’d known him. As far as you were aware, he’d never even taken anyone home after a night at The Hard Deck, and you knew with absolute certainty that he could’ve if he wanted to.

On the walk up to the room, Bradley hummed to himself, irritatingly joyful about this turn of events. You still hadn’t said a word, because what were you supposed to say? “I snore when I’m really tired, and I like to have the windows open instead of the AC. Also, please don’t touch my expensive shampoo?” Anything you thought of in your head sounded ridiculous and obsolete. While Bradley fiddled with the key card, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to text Phoenix if she knew about this. 

Truthfully, you suspected that the whole squad knew. You wouldn’t have been surprised if Bradley had been the one to suggest it. Bradley opened the door and stepped aside so you could go in first, ever the gentleman. The room was stunning. Huge, bifold windows that opened out onto a balcony with a table and chairs for morning coffees, a flat screen TV that you doubted you’d even turn on, ornate decorations and crisp white bed sheets…

On the double bed.

The one large, double bed.

Bradley appeared behind you, smelling of clean cotton and whatever aftershave he always wore that you found yourself searching for in the shops. But that was besides the point.

‘Shit.’

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you just managed to refrain from smacking him around the head.

‘What are we going to do?’ You fretted, scanning the room for a couch or a pullout bed, of which there was neither.

Of course.

Bradley wheeled his suitcase further into the room and pushed his aviators up into his hair. He turned to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to the situation.

‘I can sleep on the floor,’ he offered with a shrug. ‘Or I can see if Mav’s room is any bigger. Maybe he has a couch.’

You ran your fingers through your hair. ‘You can’t share with Mav and Penny. That’s ridiculous.’

Bradley set his backpack down on the bed with a sigh. ‘Then I’ll sleep on the floor.’

‘I find it hard to believe that there’s not a single other room left in this whole place,’ you grumbled, dumping your purse on the bed next to Bradley’s bag.

‘Paisley has five sisters,’ Bradley reasoned, ducking his head into the bathroom to investigate. ‘Coyote has four brothers. They’ve invited most of their friends and family, and our whole squad and all their partners are here. That doesn’t even account for the rest of the people Coyote’s invited from the navy.’

You kicked your suitcase over with a little more force than you’d intended and unzipped it in search of a bikini. Just because you were stuck sharing a room with Bradshaw didn’t mean you had to change the rest of your plans.

‘I can’t imagine wanting a big wedding like this,’ you ruminated. 

‘You wanna get married someday?’ Bradley asked, sliding the balcony doors open.

‘If I find the right guy.’

‘Maybe you already have.’ He teased.

You gave him a flat look. ‘I think I’d know.’

‘See, you say that,’ he drawled. ‘But you seem to be painfully unaware of a lot of things.’

You gaped. ‘I am not.’ You flushed, indignant.

Bradley smirked. ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart.’

You set about unpacking some of your things while Bradley helped himself to drinks and snacks from the minibar.

It was strange to be alone with him in a setting like this. You couldn’t help but wonder if things might be easier between the two of you if he weren’t so damn forward all the time. Even after knowing him for the better part of a year, he always managed to catch you off guard with a flirtatious comment or a sultry stare. It wasn’t so bad at work or The Hard Deck, where you had common ground and the rest of your squad to act as a buffer, but you hadn’t spent a great deal of one-on-one time together.

Mostly because you avoided it.

If you weren’t alone with him, he couldn’t make you flustered. And if you weren’t flustered, you couldn’t make a fool of yourself.

Now, you kind of felt like you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you dreaded to think what was going to be left of you by the end of the weekend.

‘I’m going to the beach,’ you announced, grabbing your bag and a pair of sunglasses.

Bradley looked at you, chocolatey eyes wide and expecting in a way that made you want to run and jump into his strong arms. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but you didn’t give him the chance.

The sight of him was honestly just too much, and you didn’t trust yourself to be normal when he looked at you like that. 

You should’ve known you’d find Bob at the beach with a tattered paperback in hand, glasses sliding down his nose. He was a lot like you in the sense that he wasn’t one for commotion—perhaps that’s why you connected so easily.

When he saw you approaching, his cheeks dimpled with a smile so wide, you couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Hey,’ he said, closing his book. ‘You okay?’

You dumped your beach bag in the sand and pulled another sun lounger over so you could sit beside him. ‘I was,’ you replied as you sat down. ‘Until I got stuck sharing a room with Rooster. Apparently, there are no other rooms left.’

Bob gave you a glib look. ‘You know Javy and Jake planned the whole thing,’ he told you. ‘They made sure there were no more rooms left.’

Indignation sparked in your chest. ‘I knew it! I fucking knew it!’

Bob chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’

You waved him off. ‘I should’ve expected it from those two,’ you said. ‘Who are you sharing with?’

Bob handed you a bottle of water, and you thanked him. ‘Fanboy,’ he sighed. ‘We’re the only two singles left in the group.’

You took a sip of your water—it was nice and cold and just what you needed in the heat of the Mexican sun.

‘You forgot Rooster and me,’ you corrected, pointing your bottle at him accusingly.

Bob gave you a sly grin, which was a rarity for him. ‘Come on, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend with me.’

‘I’m not pretending!’ You sputtered. ‘Nothing is going on between me and Rooster!’

Bob scoffed. ‘Yeah, right. And I suppose the sky isn’t blue, either.’

You lay back against your sun lounger and covered your face with your hands. Sure, Bradley flirted with you incessantly, and yes, maybe you did have a teeny tiny crush on him. But you’d always found it hard to believe that there was any real weight behind Bradley’s words. You told Bob all of this, and when you peeked between your fingers, he was looking at you like you were the biggest moron in existence.

‘Rooster is a lot of things, but he’s not the kind of guy who’d play around with someone’s heart like that. He probably just doesn’t wanna go in too heavy and scare you off.’

Deep down, you probably knew this, but you weren’t ready to face the music.

‘I’m not the right type of person for him, Bob,’ you said quietly. ‘He’s literally the human embodiment of sunshine.’

The pages of Bob’s book rustled as he leaned forward and patted your hand affectionately. ‘Don’t sell yourself short, Y/CS. You’re pretty special, too.’

You looked away, blushing. ‘Thanks, Bobby.’

‘Any time you need a reality check, I’m your guy,’ he joked. ‘But seriously, you should think about what I’ve said. Maybe this weekend is the perfect opportunity to find out if he means what he says.’

Your stomach quite literally clenched at the thought.

Bradley was good at talking, but what would it be like if he actually put his money where his mouth was? You could only imagine what being truly loved by him would feel like, how changed you’d be after basking in his impossibly bright rays.

Water lapped the shore gently as you and Bob fell into an easy beat of silence. You liked spending time with Bob; being in his company was as easy as breathing, and he never asked anything of you. Because of this, you were rarely shy. What you wouldn’t have given for it to be like that with Bradley.

‘What are you reading, anyway?’ You asked, desperate for a change of subject. It was hot enough outside as it was without thinking about Bradley.

‘East of Eden,’ Bob replied, flashing the cover of his book to you. ‘I’ve read it before, but not since high school.’

‘The classic debate of good vs evil,’ you remarked. ‘Just a bit of light reading on vacation, huh?’

Bob laughed. ‘I like to keep my brain fed.’

‘I know you do,’ you smiled. ‘That’s why I love talking to you so much.’

It was Bob’s turn to flush. He looked away and swallowed nervously.

‘What about you?’ He stammered. ‘What are you reading?’

You handed him the battered, well-read copy of one of your favourite books. It was part of a series, and you’d been rereading them for nostalgia purposes. He read the blurb and nodded approvingly.

‘Sounds pretty good, actually.’

A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, making you jump. Thoughts veering totally off track, your body’s reaction told you who it was without you needing to turn around.

‘What does?’ Bradley asked, stepping over the end of your sun lounger and perching on the edge.

‘Y/N’s book,’ Bob replied, shooting you a knowing smirk.

‘What is it?’ He asked, reaching for the book which Bob handed him.

‘Just an old favourite from when I was a teenager,’ you explained, keeping your eyes planted firmly on your lap so you wouldn’t oggle too much. ‘I’m rereading the whole series.’

‘Oh, cool,’ he replied, hand coming to rest on your shin. ‘I forgot my book.’

Your eyes flicked to his calloused hand on your leg. It was such a simple, casual act, but it drove you nuts nonetheless; it was an effort to stay focused on the conversation. ‘I didn’t know you could read.’ You said sweetly, hoping you didn’t sound too affected.

Bob choked on his water, and Bradley tipped his head back and laughed, a full-on belly laugh that made your chest tighten.

‘I’ll have you know, I like reading,’ he said, locking eyes with you. ‘Just have to be in the mood.’ His grip on your leg tightened, and warmth pooled in the bottom of your stomach.

‘That so?’

‘Uh-huh,’ he grinned, winking at you over his aviators. ‘I’m going for a swim.’

And with that, he was off like a shot towards the water, muscles expanding deliciously as he ran.

Bob was trying and failing to contain his laughter.

You read a few chapters of your book, stopping now and then to share lines you liked with Bob, who was doing the same. When Bradley came back dripping wet and somehow even more God-like than he’d been thirty minutes ago, you decided it might be a good idea to go for a swim as well, just to cool down. Being around him on base or at The Hard Deck was bad enough, but on a beach in Cabo in the blistering summer heat when he looked like that? It was impossible to think straight, especially when he pulled a sun lounger so close to yours that the arms touched and took a long drink from your water bottle. The worst part of it was that he did all this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Almost like you were already a couple, which everyone else in your squad seemed to think you were.

Nat and Jake appeared with more drinks and a large platter of fresh fruit to share, which she promptly deposited in Bradley’s lap so she could lay her beach towel out. Jake took one look at Bradley, who was so close to you you might as well have been sharing a sun lounger, and smirked to himself like the cat who got the cream.

‘This looks cosy,’ he drawled, moving his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to another.

Bradley squinted up at him, unable to move without jostling the impressive tray of fruit. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something smart in response to Jake’s comment—something that would probably make you even more flustered—so you jumped up and grabbed hold of Nat’s arm.

‘Shall we go for a swim?’

Nat straightened, eyes flicking from you to Bradley as a knowing look spread across her face. You could feel Bradley’s gaze burning holes into your back, and you adjusted the straps of your white bikini self-consciously, suddenly hyperaware of the miles of skin you had on display.

‘Sure,’ she replied, brows raised. Then, once you were out of earshot of the rest of the group: ‘You’re acting weird.’

You threw your hands up. ‘I can’t help it! I feel like a caged animal!’ She laughed and you shot her a glare. ‘Glad to see my pain is funny to you, Trace.’

‘Oh come on,’ she nudged your ribs playfully. ‘You need to relax, stop taking it so seriously.’

You’d reached the shore. The cool, clear water lapping at your ankles was just the kind of grounding you needed.

‘I can’t help it,’ you whined. ‘There’s too much pressure on the situation. Bob told me that Jake and Javy were behind us sharing a room.’

Nat rolled her eyes. ‘You weren’t supposed to know that.’

‘You knew too?’ You exclaimed, shoving her lightly. ‘I can’t believe you! Dating Hangman is really rubbing off on you in the worst possible way.’

The two of you waded deeper until the swell reached your waists; then, you leaned back and let the tide claim you, your hair fanning out beneath the waves.

‘If it makes you feel any better,’ Nat said, pushing her dark hair out of her face. ‘Bradley didn’t know.’

You regarded your friend. Being the only two females in your squad meant that you were quite close, and you always knew when she was lying. You could tell by the set of her shoulders and the look in her eye that she was telling the truth about this.

‘I just don’t like being backed into a corner,’ you admitted, scrunching your toes in the sand. ‘He makes me nervous enough as it is.’

‘Y/N,’ Nat sighed. ‘Can I give you a piece of advice?’

‘I have a feeling you’re going to anyway, no matter what I say.’

She gave you a glib look. ‘Get out of your own head and just lean into it,’ she told you. ‘So what if Jake and Javy orchestrated the whole thing? At some point, something had to give. He looks at you like you hung the fucking moon in the sky.’

You couldn’t help but glance back at the beach. With the distance, you couldn’t be certain, but you were pretty sure that Bradley was still watching you over the top of his sunglasses.

‘Bob said pretty much the same thing,’ you relented.

‘Well, Bob’s a smart guy,’ Nat said, standing up. ‘If you’re not gonna listen to me, you should listen to him.’

You followed her back to shore, mulling over what she’d said. Did Bradley really look at you like you’d hung the moon? Most of the time, you were too flustered to properly read into it, but maybe your friends were right, and there really was more to his flirting than simply getting under your skin.

As you approached the guys, Bradley tracked you without shame, leaning back on his forearms like he didn’t have a care in the world. You almost lost your nerve when he sat up higher and pulled his sunglasses down further so he could see you better. For once, instead of shying away, you decided to be bold and add a little sway to your hips. His eyes immediately darkened as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

When you reached your sun lounger, you took your time drying off with your towel and brushing the sand from your legs before sitting down. Bradley’s attention never once left you.

‘You’re always looking at me like that,’ you said lowly, so only he could hear you.

‘Like what?’ He asked, smirking.

‘You know what.’

He reached up and ran his fingers through his curls and released a long breath. ‘Sorry. Can’t help it.’

His voice had dropped lower, and he seemed to be struggling to sit still. In the spirit of leaning into it like Nat had said, you allowed yourself a small moment of satisfaction in knowing you had an effect on him.

‘Don’t apologise,’ you told him.

His eyes darted to you, questioning, like he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard you correctly. The air seemed to shift around the two of you, and you were distantly aware that there was no turning back now.

‘I’m gonna go get some ice cream,’ you announced. ‘Want one?’

‘Sure,’ he sputtered, tracking you once again as you stood up. ‘Thanks.’

You flashed him your widest, prettiest smile and relished in the way his lips tugged upward beneath his moustache.

‘No problem, roomie.’

Bradley let you take the first shower when you got back to your room. You took your time washing your hair twice, and then took extra care scrubbing the sand from every inch of your body.

You were stalling.

The Daggers had a reservation at a fancy restaurant a little way from the resort, but it wasn’t for another hour. That meant sixty whole minutes alone in a room with Bradley Bradshaw with nobody to act as a buffer and no ocean to disappear into.

Hence the twenty-minute-long shower.

The bathroom was just as beautiful as the rest of the suite, complete with a waterfall shower, his and hers sinks and light-up mirrors. You stepped out onto the fluffy mat in search of a towel, but all you could find was a couple of small hand towels.

An icy chill ran down your spine as you remembered the towels folded up at the foot of the bed.

Fuck.

Gingerly, you opened the bathroom door and poked your head out. Bradley was stretched out on the bed, flipping through your current read.

‘Can you pass me a towel?’ You squeaked. ‘There are none in here.’

Bradley’s head snapped up.

You watched the realisation that you were naked behind the door wash over him, and his eyes darkened just like they had on the beach. A sly grin tugged at his lips as he set your book down and swiped a towel from where they were folded into swans.

‘What’s the magic word, sweetheart?’ He teased, voice an octave lower than usual.

Your toes curled instinctively, grip tightening on the edge of the door

‘...Please.’

He came right up to the bathroom door, but didn’t hand the towel over right away—just stood there, a little too close, like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to be doing.

His eyes flicked over your face and settled on the water pooling in your collarbones. You thought you saw his breath hitch, though surely smug, confident Bradley Bradshaw wouldn’t be so affected by the sight of your naked shoulders.

You reached around the door and waved your hands impatiently, and he blinked as though startled.

‘Sorry,’ he murmured, biting back a grin as he handed you the towel. When his fingers brushed yours, your breath hitched, and you slammed the bathroom door shut suddenly and leaned against it.

He didn’t even have to try to get you worked up. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing.

After wrapping yourself in the fluffy towel, you bit the bullet and walked out into the bedroom. All your clothes were in your suitcase because—of course—you hadn’t thought to take them in the bathroom with you. You didn’t feel like asking Bradley to root through all your underwear to find you an outfit, thank you very much.

He didn’t move an inch as you sashayed across the room, just kept his eyes planted firmly on the wall in front of him, jaw set like it took effort to keep them there. After the way he’d stared at you at the beach earlier, you weren’t sure why he was bothering to be chaste now. He swiped another towel from the foot of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, all without fully turning around, like he was afraid to look at you.

Or maybe he was afraid that you’d look at him.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, you moisturised and put on your evening dress. It was a cute, baby yellow number that you’d picked out especially for this trip. Admittedly, you’d had Bradley in mind when you’d bought it, though you’d die before ever telling anyone this.

It was hot enough outside that you could leave your hair to air dry, so you grabbed a mini bottle of prosecco from the fridge and a glass and headed out onto the balcony. The view of the private beach was breathtaking and made you wish you could take vacations more often.

By the time you heard the bathroom door open, the sun had started to set, and you’d nearly finished your drink.

Bradley had taken longer than you in the shower, and that was saying something.

You blamed the bubbly for your inability to keep your eyes on the beautiful ocean view, and turned subtly in your seat.

Bradley had his back to you, a white towel hanging low on his waist. Up until now, you hadn’t given men’s backs much thought, but now you were reconsidering. The expanse of tanned skin pulled taught over impressive muscles had you wondering about other areas of his body.

Now who was shamelessly staring?

Practically drooling, you watched him dig through his suitcase for some clothes, mesmerised by his fluid movements—so mesmerised, in fact, you only just managed to turn back around before he dropped his towel to the floor.

‘Hey, Y/CS?’ He called.

Your stomach somersaulted. ‘Yeah?’ You squeaked.

‘This mirror on the wall by the door’s nice, huh?’ He replied, smirk audible in his voice.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to work out what he was talking about. What did a mirror have to do with anything?

Silence stretched out for a second.

Then it dawned on you.

He must have seen you ogling him in the reflection.

Heat crept up the back of your neck as you rubbed your temples, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

After a few minutes of quietly simmering with embarrassment, Bradley appeared on the balcony, dressed in black dress pants and a loose-fitting, white linen shirt. He’d combed his wet hair back, and his aviators were perched precariously on the tip of his nose. To top it all off, he smelled delicious.

‘Ready to go?’ He asked innocently.

You knocked the rest of your drink back and stood up. ‘Yep.’

He followed you across the room, and just as you opened the door, he placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. Gently, he untucked your wet hair from beneath the back of your dress and tucked it over one shoulder so your back wouldn’t get wet. It wasn’t the feel of his fingers against the nape of your neck that startled you; it was the softness of the gesture. It affected you more than his loud, outward attempts at flirting.

You were frozen to the spot as he let his hand linger for a little longer than he should’ve before pulling away.

‘Thanks.’ You squeaked.

He was so close to you that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he said: ‘No problem, roomie.’

The restaurant was called Jazzamango, and it sold the most expensive pizza you’d ever had in your entire life. It had been Mav and Penny’s idea to come here, and they were paying for the whole thing. The Daggers were family, and you were grateful for the way Penny had taken you all under her wing—just because Mav had to, didn’t mean she did.

Naturally, you ended up sandwiched between Natasha and Bradley, because there had been no other seats left when you arrived. It was incredibly hard to focus on your $400 pizza when Bradley’s leg kept knocking into yours beneath the ornately decorated table. Every time it happened, you inched a little closer to Nat.

‘Wanna sit in my lap or something?’ she whisper-shouted after the fourth time it happened.

‘Sorry,’ you hissed. ‘Bradshaw’s all up in my personal space.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you’re sharing a room with him for the next three nights, so you might wanna get used to it.’

You flashed your teeth at her. ‘Thank you for captioning my nightmare.’

‘You know, this whole playing hard to get thing is getting really boring to watch,’ she told you with a smirk. ‘I thought I told you to lean into it.’

His knee touched yours again, and this time you didn’t move away—you told yourself it was because you had nowhere else to go, but was it?

‘Relax,’ Bradley murmured, low enough that only you could hear. ‘You look like you’re about to bolt.’

‘Maybe I am.’ You shot back.

‘Don’t,’ he said simply, before going back to his conversation with Reuben and his girlfriend.

By the time desert came out, you were jumpy, exhausted and ready for bed. Which would’ve sounded inviting after a day of socialising, if not for the fact that you had to share with Bradley.

‘So,’ Nat said suddenly, cutting into her piece of cheesecake. ‘How’s the room?’

You almost choked on your drink, but Bradley didn’t even look up from his plate. ‘Great, actually.’ He said.

‘Is it?’ She asked.

‘Yeah,’ he said, finally glancing your way. ‘We’re getting along really well.’

You kicked him under the table. Hard. His leg didn’t move. In fact, it pressed closer.

You went completely still.

By now, you were sure this man was going to be the death of you, and you were sick of him always getting one up. Resolutely, you put your hand on the top of his thigh and squeezed, hoping nobody would notice. His fork clattered onto his half-empty plate as he glared at you, pupils blown completely black.

‘Yeah,’ you smiled at Nat. ‘We are.’

She couldn’t see your hand from this angle, but she could see the pained expression on Bradley’s face. Honestly, you were taken aback by your own boldness. You had no idea whether to move away or double down, and your pulse was going ohshitohshitohshit.

‘Weirdos.’ Nat huffed.

For the first time since you’d met him, Bradley Bradshaw didn’t have a comeback.

He ate the rest of his dessert in a stunned sort of silence, glancing at you now and then like he was making sure you were really there. 

When you got back to the room, the energy between you and Bradley was loaded in a way it hadn’t been before.

You didn’t know if Bob and Nat’s words had gotten to you, if you’d had too much champagne or if the forced proximity to Bradley had finally broken down the last of your resolve—either way, you were seeing the situation from an entirely new angle.

It was hard to believe that all these months of teasing had purely been for fun when he’d looked at you like that when you’d grabbed his thigh. And this stunned silence he’d been trapped in since the restaurant? It was so unlike him that you could only assume you’d had a real effect on him.

Bradley went over to the minibar and grabbed two miniature bottles of Patròn.

‘Do we have to pay for these?’ He asked, waving the bottles at you.

‘I guess so,’ you replied, following him out to the balcony. ‘Unless the happy couple are footing the bill at the end.’

He handed you one of the bottles and uncapped his. ‘Guess we’ll find out,’ he smirked. ‘You ready?’

You scrunched your nose up. ‘We’re just gonna drink it straight?’

‘That’s the whole point of tequila,’ he reasoned.

Shooting straight tequila in a hotel room with Bradley Bradshaw? You said a silent prayer for your sanity before following Bradley’s lead and downing it, wincing at the harsh taste.

‘I don’t usually drink tequila,’ you sputtered.

‘Neither do I,’ he admitted, smiling sheepishly. ‘Doesn’t normally end well.’

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ you laughed.

And that’s how you and Bradley ended up swapping stories about your worst drunken nights. By the end of it, you were clutching your sides, which ached from laughing so hard, and your jaw hurt from smiling so wide. He made you feel careless and present in the moment, as though nothing and nobody outside of it was more important. It was easier to laugh than to acknowledge what had changed.

Eventually, you cast a glance at the very inviting bed. Bradley watched you intently, like he was waiting to see what you’d say first.

The tequila had gone straight to your head. You leaned back in your seat and took a deep, steadying breath of ocean air.

‘You can’t sleep on the floor, Rooster. I wouldn’t be able to sleep.’

Bradley gave you a bemused grin. ‘You wouldn’t be able to sleep?’

‘No,’ you pouted. ‘Because I’d just be thinking about how uncomfortable you were all night.’

Fiddling with his empty bottle, Bradley smiled dazzlingly. ‘You would?’

Before you could stop the words flying out of your mouth, you asked: ‘Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?’

Bradley’s smile dropped, suddenly serious. ‘Kinda.’

His admission was like a sharp stab in your chest. ‘Well, I do.’

He didn’t drop his gaze from you as he said: ‘That’s good to know.’

Suddenly, the quiet between you was too loud. You couldn’t sit still anymore, and you could feel your clothes sticking to your body.

‘I’m going to put my pyjamas on,’ you announced, getting up from your seat.

‘Need a hand?’ Bradley teased.

Your mouth dried out at the thought. ‘Nope,’ you squeaked, hurrying into the bathroom with your night things.

As you dressed, you wished you’d brought something a bit nicer than an old Harley Davidson t-shirt and skimpy sleep shorts, but you hadn’t been expecting anyone to see you after 10pm. What kind of psycho could sleep in lace, anyway?

After brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, you headed back into the bedroom where Bradley was perched on the edge of the bed scrolling on his phone. He was shirtless in a pair of grey sleep shorts, and your brain short-circuited at the thought of sharing a bed with him.

When you flopped down on top of the duvet, he turned to face you, propping his head up on his hands. God, he was handsome. Nobody had the right to be so perfect.

‘I sleep with the windows open,’ you told him, lips tugging upward. ‘No AC. And sometimes I snore if I’m really tired.’

Bradley laughed delightedly. ‘I sleep with the windows open too,’ he told you. ‘And I snore all the time.’

‘Now you’ve got me second-guessing letting you sleep in the bed with me,’ you joked.

Bradley laughed again, and something in your chest shifted. You found yourself trying to come up with ways to hear that laugh again.

He sat up and moved further up the bed, close enough to you that you could feel heat rolling off him.

‘You’re on my side, though,’ he said huskily.

‘That so?’ You asked, raising a brow.

‘Yup.’

Emboldened by the wicked glint in his eye, you straddled him so you could get to the other side of the bed. Instinctively, his hands flew to your hips, and even though the contact and proximity were short-lived, it still set an electric current buzzing beneath your skin. His little ‘oof’ had your pulse jumping into your throat.

Without giving him any time to respond, you reached over and snapped the bedside lamp on, plunging you into near total darkness. The only light came from the moon, which was almost full up in the sky, and a spattering of twinkling stars.

Bradley pulled the duvet back and nestled beneath it, and you followed suit. You could barely hear the ocean outside over the pounding of your own heart as you grabbed a few of the extra pillows (what bed needed this many?) and made a barrier between the two of you. You knew full well that it was childish, and you felt a bit like an idiot, but really, what other choice did you have?

‘You’re not serious,’ Bradley laughed, voice more unsteady than usual. You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t trust yourself, or that you knew you’d never drift off to sleep if you could feel him lying beside you.

‘Night roomie.’ You said sweetly.

He scoffed, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he said: ‘Yeah. Goodnight.’

You woke up a few hours later completely disoriented.

It took you a moment to remember that you were away in Cabo, and not in your own bed in San Diego.

Slowly, you came to terms with your surroundings: the lovely, light breeze in through the balcony doors, the sound of the ocean gently lapping the shore, and someone snoring.

Your brain hadn’t quite caught up yet—it was still somewhere between sleep and waking.

And then it did, all at once.

The pillow barrier you’d built hastily before falling asleep had been kicked to the foot of the bed. In your sleep, you and Bradley seemed to have found your way into each other’s arms. Your face was pretty much buried in his chest, and both of his strong arms were wrapped around you. He smelled of sandalwood and sunscreen, and he was so incredibly warm.

You’d never been this close to him before. Not like this. Not where you could feel every single breath he took.

The heat you were becoming all too familiar with unfurled deep in your belly. It was desire mixed with nerves and anticipation, and it was slightly intoxicating; better than any expensive champagne.

You debated rolling away, probably should have rolled away. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Bradley was so warm and inviting, and he wasn’t awake to make a sly remark and totally ruin the bliss. Tentatively, you draped your arm across his middle, hand hovering for a second before you let it settle against his back, fingertips tracing slow, absent lines like you were testing whether the moment was real. He shuddered in his sleep, and your breath caught, and not because he’d moved—because he’d felt it.

You bit back a pleased grin.

Just as you’d started to drift off again, his arms tightened around you, somehow pulling you even closer.

‘Y/N?’ He murmured.

You inhaled sharply. ‘Yeah?’

‘Are we cuddling?’

And damn if his raspy, sleepy voice wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever heard in your entire life.

‘I think so.’ You whispered.

Silence for a second, then a quiet, ‘Okay.’

His grip didn’t loosen; it just settled, like he’d decided something. And not two minutes later, he was snoring again.

Just like that.

You didn’t move, not even after he’d fallen asleep.

And that meant something you weren’t quite ready to face just yet. 

Bradley didn’t think he’d ever been this close to losing his mind before.

Every little thing you did drove him insane—the way you got embarrassed and couldn’t hold eye contact when he flirted with you, the smell of your expensive shampoo, the sight of you in that fucking white bikini, water sliding down your stomach and legs.

And now, he could add your little snores and the way you clung to him like a koala in your sleep to the list.

He woke up to you still nestled against his chest, arms wrapped around his torso like you two did this sort of thing every night. It didn’t surprise him that you two fit together like puzzle pieces—he’d always known that you were meant for each other. What surprised him was that you hadn’t moved all night, even after waking up and finding yourself pressed against him. Most of the time, he had a hard time even having a serious conversation with you without you disappearing on him or retreating inward, so he was counting this as a step in the right direction.

Being careful not to wake you, he peeled your arm off him and crept to the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. No matter what, he started every single day with an ice-cold shower, but today it was more necessary than usual. His skin smelled of your perfume, he finally knew what it felt like to hold you close, and after spending the better part of six hours pressed up against your gorgeous body, he was more than flustered.

He gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, suddenly all too aware of his own body, which had totally betrayed him.

He felt more than a little guilty for sorting out his morning problem with you sleeping ten feet away, but what other choice did he have? You cut and run from in The Hard Deck when he winked at you, so he couldn’t imagine what would happen if you woke up to his dick pressing against your stomach. Hell, you’d probably never be able to be in the same room as him again.

Bradley tried not to take it personally; he really did. He understood that you were shy and more reserved than the rest of your rowdy squad. But that was one of the things he loved most about you. He also knew that you didn’t believe that he genuinely liked you, that he wanted more with you than the sex he hinted at too often.

Maybe that was his own fault, but he just loved teasing you so damn much.

As he went through the motions of his morning routine, he thought about how incredible it had felt to wake up cuddling you. By the time he was done in the bathroom, he’d replayed the memory so many times he no longer fully believed that it had really happened. Had he dreamt your arms tightening around him, or the lazy circles you’d traced into his back?

The sight of you tucked up in the middle of the bed, hair splayed out across his pillow, was the only proof he had that any of it was real. Bradley dressed quickly and grabbed his phone and key card. Breakfast would be starting any minute, and he thought you might like some time to yourself to get ready for the busy day ahead. Cocktails had been scheduled for the afternoon, followed by the rehearsal dinner, and he knew you well enough to know that you’d want some time to charge your social battery before all that.

Down in the restaurant, Natasha, Jake, Mickey and Bob were already seated at a table close to the window. Bradley grabbed himself a cup of black coffee and a plate of fresh fruit before joining them.

‘There he is!’ Jake said, smirking smarmily.

‘Fucking finally!’ Nat exclaimed. ‘I need details, now. Did it happen?’

Bradley stabbed a strawberry with his fork. ‘No.’

All four of his squad mates visibly deflated with disappointment. ‘What do you mean “no?”’ Nat demanded. ‘You shared a bed with her! She had like, four glasses of champagne!’

‘So?’ Bradley rolled his eyes. ‘What was I supposed to do, take advantage of her because she was drunk?’

Bob leaned forward in his seat. ‘Did anything happen? Anything at all?’

Bob Floyd wasn’t one for gossip, so if he was interested, then the situation must have been getting dire.

Bradley shrugged. ‘We had some tequila, chatted for a while, then we went to bed.’

‘Did you share the bed?’ Mickey asked, waggling his eyebrows.

‘Yeah,’ Bradley snorted. ‘With a fucking pillow shield between us.’

Jake’s eyes lit up, and Bradley immediately regretted saying anything. If you found out that he’d told anyone about what had gone on behind closed doors, you’d never talk to him again.

‘Come on, Rooster,’ Nat pleaded. ‘Just make a move already!’

‘I don’t know if she wants that! She’s so hot and cold, I never know whether I’m coming or going.’

‘But I bet you wish you were co—’

Natasha punched Jake’s arm, cutting him off abruptly. Bradley busied himself with his fruit, although it was difficult to focus with four pairs of eyes boring holes into the top of his head.

He huffed. ‘We cuddled.’

Chaos erupted. He only meant to give them something to shut them up, but now he was being bombarded with a whole slew of other questions, like “who initiated it?” and “did you get to second base?” Bradley banged his fork down onto the table.

‘Can you guys cut it the fuck out!’ He snapped. ‘It’s none of your business—and if you tell her I told you that, I’ll never speak to any of you again.’

Mickey snorted. ‘Yeah, cos it took you a whole fucking year to even get her in a room alone.’

Bradley picked up a grape and threw it at Mickey’s head.

‘Low blow, Fanboy,’ Nat growled.

Mickey threw his hands up. ‘But it’s true!’

‘Y/N’s different,’ Bob said quietly. ‘If you really wanna be with her, you have to show her that it’s not all just for show.’

Bradley blinked. He knew you and Bob talked a lot, probably because you were both quiet and relatively reserved. Judging by the look in the WSOs eyes, he knew more than he was letting on.

Nat nodded in agreement. ‘Bob’s right,’ she said. ‘Maybe slow down on the flirting and let her get comfortable.’

Bradley chewed on this. Out of everyone in your squad, Phoenix and Bob definitely knew you best. If he was going to take anyone’s advice, it would be theirs. Maybe all his shameless flirting was only harming his cause.

He could tone it back, let you come to him for a change. He just had to hope that you actually did, because he didn’t think he could survive another night in bed with you without kissing you.

Bradley couldn’t stop admiring the way your pretty, blue evening dress clung to your body in all the right places. You looked so stunning he couldn’t think straight, just kept going back to the previous night in his mind.

You sipped your cocktail, smiling slightly at something Penny was telling you.

It was the first time he’d seen you since this morning in the room. When you hadn’t come down for breakfast, he’d taken you up a croissant and some coffee, but you weren’t in the room. He’d checked the beach, the pool and the bar, but he hadn’t been able to find you anywhere. He didn’t even see you when he went back to the room to get ready for cocktails and the rehearsal dinner, which was disconcerting.

It wasn’t until he’d arrived at the garden that he saw you, leaning against the wall with an impressive-looking drink in hand, chatting with Penny. Either you hadn’t seen him come in, or you were ignoring him, because you hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction.

Javy clapped a hand on his back, startling Bradley from his reverie.

‘How’s it going?’ He asked, face split in a wide grin.

‘Good,’ Bradley replied. ‘What about you? Feeling the pre-wedding jitters yet?’

Javy shook his head. ‘Not in the slightest. When you know, you know. I’ve never been more sure of anything my whole life.’

Bradley’s eyes darted to you. ‘I get that, man.’

Javy followed Bradley’s line of sight and smiled sheepishly. ‘I hear mine and Jake’s plan isn’t exactly working.’

Bradley shrugged, hoping he didn’t look as dejected as he felt. ‘Bob and Phoenix think I’ve been coming on too strong, but I’m not sure if it’s that anymore. Maybe she just doesn’t like me back.’

‘Bullshit,’ Javy said. ‘You just need to take a different approach.’

‘Yeah, so I’ve heard.’

‘It’ll happen. Like I just said—when you know, you know.’

Bradley nodded, because he did know. He just wasn’t sure that you did.

You were halfway through your drink when you felt him beside you. You kept your eyes trained on the couples dancing beneath the pergola, which was strung with twinkling, golden fairy lights. Bradley inched closer to you, resting his arm on the back of the stool you were sitting on. You wore a backless dress, and the feeling of his arm against your bare skin reminded you of last night.

‘You disappeared on me today,’ he said quietly.

You leaned back slightly until you were almost in the crook of his arm ‘Sorry.’

‘Everything okay?’

You didn’t even know where to start. ‘Yeah,’ you said. ‘Just wanted some peace and quiet.’

‘Charming,’ he said, voice teasing.

‘I didn’t mean—’ you sputtered, covering your face with your hands. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

His chuckle reverberated through your body. When you removed your hands from your face, he leaned even closer to you. ‘It’s okay,’ he murmured, eyes darting to your lips. ‘I get it. You don’t have to hide from me, Y/N. I can go as slow as you want.’

You lost yourself in the depths of him, totally enamoured. It was as if the rest of the garden had faded away, and it was just you and Bradley left. A few more inches, and you could’ve kissed him. It would’ve been so easy if you could just forget about your insecurities and stop overthinking everything.

‘Why do you keep trying with me?’ You asked a little breathlessly.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thumb lightly brushing your jaw, and your whole body trembled with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ He answered.

Your eyes fluttered closed. His breath fanned across your face as he exhaled, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. Your stomach flipped just as the tip of his nose bumped yours, and

‘Everyone, if you could please make your way to the dining area,’ somebody announced over the microphone. ‘Dinner will be served shortly.’

The spell was broken.

Around you, everyone scraped their stools back or set their empty glasses down on tables. Your body was a live wire, veins coursing with adrenaline that now had no place to go. Bradley pulled back, and your heart sank, and that was when you realised just how much you wanted him to kiss you.

He gazed at you longingly and held out his hand for you to hold, which you took. ‘Later,’ he breathed. 

This time, when Bradley’s leg touched yours beneath the dinner table, you didn’t pull away.

That alone told you everything had changed.

Like last night, you’d spent most of dinner thinking about sharing a room with Bradley, but it was different tonight. You’d given yourself time to breathe instead of immediately talking yourself out of anything. You hadn’t let yourself go round in circles about the cuddling or what it meant, just let yourself accept that it had been nice. And that almost kiss? The way your body and heart had reacted told you everything you needed to know about how you truly felt about Bradley—something you’d always known, deep down, but had been too afraid to let yourself accept.

Part of you still found it hard to believe that Bradley truly liked you, but Bob and Nat’s words were starting to make a lot more sense to you now you’d seen he could give you more than obnoxiously flirty comments that set your skin on fire.

I can go as slow as you want.

Bradley was midway through a conversation with Mav when he filled your wine glass up for you, like taking care of you was something he didn’t even have to think about.

You tipped your head to the side, resting it on his shoulder for two seconds while you thanked him.

Nat, who was opposite you tonight, caught the whole thing and raised a brow.

You flushed scarlet, but didn’t pull away from Bradley, and she smirked knowingly. The two of you were good at having conversations with just facial expressions, and hers right now told you that you would be talking about this later, even if she had to tie you down to force information out of you.

When you finally looked away from her, your eyes caught on Bradley’s. He wasn’t listening to Maverick anymore; he was already looking at you. Not in that easy, teasing way you were used to—not like he was about to say something that would make your cheeks burn and your heart race for all the wrong reasons. This was quiet and steadier, like he was waiting.

Your breath hitched as something warm and certain settled low in your chest.

You didn’t look away this time, and neither did he.

After dinner, Javy and Paisley’s parents gave lovely speeches, and then, as he was basically an extra father for all intents and purposes, Mav gave one too. It made you a little emotional to see Mav standing so proudly as he recounted stories about Javy and his many achievements in the Dagger squad.

By the time all the plates were cleared and the speeches were finished, you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Bradley put a steadying hand on your shoulder. ‘Shall we go up to bed?’

You’d never experienced butterflies like the swarm that fluttered in your stomach at those words. Like going up to bed was something the two of you did—like it was normal. A world existed where those words actually meant something, and the two of you were right on the precipice of it.

‘Yeah,’ you said, taking his hand once again. ‘Let’s.’

He was grinning from ear to ear as you stood up and wrapped your hand around his bicep.

You threw a glance behind you at your squad, who were losing their collective shit. Maverick and Penny shared a knowing look that made you wonder just how many people were rooting for you and Bradley, and whether you were supposed to be flattered or embarrassed by it. 

The room felt different.

When Bradley closed the door behind you, it felt smaller than it had before. You kicked your shoes off and sashayed over to the bed, all too aware of Bradley trailing behind you.

‘Want a drink?’ He asked, voice thick with tension.

You nodded, and he set about pouring two glasses of wine.

He crouched down by the fridge, and you stared at the muscles in his arms as he uncorked a bottle of white wine and poured two big glasses.

It was a stark contrast to how you were used to seeing him: climbing into a multi-million dollar fighter jet, body tense but relaxed at the same time in a way that came only from being in the military. He was a totally different guy in this setting, and you couldn’t decide which version you liked best.

Your brain was ticking again now, starting to spiral. What if this didn’t work out? What if it all went to hell in a handbasket and you couldn’t work together anymore? What if all your worst fears came true, and Bradley decided you weren’t right for him after all?

You snatched your pyjamas from beneath your pillow and clambered off the bed towards the bathroom.

‘Going to change.’ You muttered.

You pushed the door open and stepped in, but before you could close it, Bradley was there, hand around your wrist and a steady look on his face.

‘Don’t,’ he said, gently tugging you towards him. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Do what?’ You asked hoarsely, laying your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

‘Run. You don’t get to look at me like that and then run.’

He was almost pleading, and you were struggling to catch a breath.

‘This whole time, I thought this was just you being…you,’ you admitted. ‘I never thought you actually—’

‘Liked you?’ He released a shaky laugh. ‘I honestly don’t know what else I can do to get you to believe me.’

He let go of your arm and ran his hands through his curls.

‘At the start, I thought you were just flirting with me as a joke,’ you admitted, cheeks flaming. ‘And then when you didn’t stop, I started to wonder why you’d even go for someone like me. I’m quiet and boring, and you’re like sunshine, Bradley,’ you took a breath, and he reached out like he was going to touch you before thinking better of it. ‘Then this weekend, Nat and Bob have been trying to convince me that you really do like me and to just relax, but I can’t because you’re you and I’m me and you just make me so fucking nervous and—’

Bradley’s lips crashed into yours as he pressed you up against the wall, caging you in with his arms. You’d been kissed before, but not like this—not like you were the very air somebody needed to survive. It was natural then, the way you put your hands on the back of Bradley’s neck—still warm from the heat of the day—and pulled him in closer, licking his bottom lip and deepening the kiss. He whimpered, like actually whimpered, when you began exploring his mouth, and your stomach clenched so hard it was almost painful.

When he eventually pulled away, he was panting hard, eyes blown so wide you lost yourself in them for a moment.

‘I can’t believe you’d think that,’ he breathed. ‘You—you’re everything,’ he swallowed thickly, cupping your face in his hands. ‘I’ve liked you since the day I met you, but every day that’s passed since then it’s only gotten stronger. And maybe I should’ve given you more than stupid comments, but I didn’t wanna risk fucking things up with you.’

You closed your eyes and rubbed your nose against his. ‘I’m sorry for pushing you away.’

He kissed you slow and gentle, like he had all the time in the world. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.’ You laid your hands flat on his chest and pushed him towards the bed, collapsing on top of him in fits of giggles. He gazed up at you, well, like you’d hung the moon. Nat had been right about that, at least. With his eyes wide, curls a mess and his lips slightly parted he looked totally disarmed, like you’d rocked the very foundations he existed upon. His hands came to rest on your hips as you leaned down and kissed him again, his moustache tickling the tip of your lip.

If you were to be honest with yourself, it was a feeling you’d been imagining for a very long time, but a feeling you never felt like you were allowed to want.

You could feel the way your weight was affecting him by his short breaths, wandering hands and the impressive length pressing against the inside of your thigh. The idea of sleeping with him both terrified and excited you at the same time. What if you didn’t live up to his standards? What if it made him change his mind?

It would’ve been easy to go into a downward spiral, but every passionate kiss and hungry grab pushed the negative thoughts further and further away until there was only him.

Just Bradley.

If you’d known it was going to be this easy, you’d have leaned into it a long time ago.

You pulled back slightly, and he leaned forward, chasing your lips for another kiss.

‘If we do this,’ you panted. ‘I don’t want it to be because of tequila and a wedding.’

He softened, adjusting you so you lay beside him, facing him. He twirled a strand of your hair around his finger absentmindedly. ‘We’ll go at whatever pace you want,’ he rasped. ‘I’ve waited a year for you, and I would’ve waited five more if I had to.’

Your heart soared. ‘You’re lying.’

He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t lie about something like that, Y/N.’

And you believed him. ‘Thank you for being patient.’

He kissed you again and smiled against your lips. ‘Thanks for believing me.’

Bradley opened his arms so you could snuggle closer, tucking you beneath his chin and tangling his legs with yours. In a way, it was even better than the kiss. He made you feel safe and secure, and what more could you really ask for than that?

‘Big day tomorrow,’ he murmured, and you could hear how sleepy he was.

You ‘hmmed’ in agreement, and Bradley reached up and started combing through your hair with his fingers. Your eyes drifted closed, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you fell asleep.

You didn’t miss the hopefulness in his tone when he asked: ‘That thing you said yesterday, about finding the right guy?’

‘Too soon to say,’ you replied, smiling against his chest. ‘But I’m pretty certain.’

The next morning, the two of you meandered down to the beach hand in hand. Javy and Paisley had chosen to have their ceremony on the sand, and you made Bradley stop so you could kick your heels off and walk barefoot. He had a massive, lottery-winning grin on his face that hadn’t disappeared all morning, and matched your own.

It had taken you longer than necessary to get ready because he’d kept interrupting you with kisses and hugs and compliments, and as a result, the two of you were the last to take your seats. The Dagger squad had a whole row to themselves, and Nat had saved you and Bradley the seats on the end.

All of them—including Penny and Maverick—had twisted around in their seats to get a look at the two of you walking down the aisle. All of them had variations of ecstatic and shit-eating grins on their faces. Nat and Jake were the worst of them all, and you knew that you were never going to hear the end of this. Jake would probably have “The Reason Bradley and Y/N Finally Got Together” carved into his tombstone.

‘Are those wedding bells I hear?’ Jake teased when the two of you sat down.

Bradley glanced around. ‘No, I think we’ve still got ten minutes till the ceremony starts.’

‘Not what I meant.’ Jake smirked.

Javy, who was standing at the altar looking very dapper in his tux, waved enthusiastically.

‘DID IT WORK?’ He yelled.

Everyone in the audience turned to look at you and Bradley. You’d never felt embarrassment like it, but Bradley squeezed your hand encouragingly, and it faded away.

He was good at that.

Jake stood up. ‘YEAH, IT WORKED! FINALLY!’

Javy cheered, and the rest of the Daggers followed suit. Nat and Bob were giving you smug, ‘I told you so’ looks that made you feel a bit like an idiot. You didn’t let yourself dwell on all the time you’d spent overthinking it.

Maybe it had taken a while, but you’d gotten here in the end. But you supposed everything happened exactly when it was supposed to—not a second before nor after.

And the two of you were right on time.

[harddeckstories]

8-Pool Meltdown - Part 2

Summary : A trip down memory lane brings you and Jake together as you both reminisce the tales of how you fell in love.

Pairing : Jake "Hangman" Seresin × Fem!Reader

Important info : Your call sign is Lightning ⚡️ :)

Disclaimer : English is not my first language so apologies for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading, also I have no knowledge of the US navy or military, so sorry for any inaccuracies about that !💞

Word count : 11.8k

Part one :)

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Jake didn’t immediately drive home when he watched you close your door.

At first, he stayed. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just watching your door, excited to no avail to see it open in the morning to reveal your pretty face.

After a what felt like an infinity to him, he concluded that he didn’t want your neighbors to think he was a creep before both of you had even put words on your feelings.

Jake took the long way home, window opened, ocean air greeting his face and the sounds of the crashing waves making a poor attempt at soothing his racing heart.

Back at his place, it was clear to him that he wouldn’t get any sleep. He watched TV, reviewed his flight route sim for Monday, cleaned his apartment… twice. No matter what he did, his heart rate wouldn’t go down, nor the sweat slicking his palms no matter how many times he wiped them on his pants.

Jake didn’t consider himself to be a nervous kinda guy, by any means, but perhaps he had underestimated what the knowledge of the woman he’s been in love with for so long confessing to him in a few hours would do to him. It was a weird mix of excitement and sheer nerves. Had the course of your entire relationship truly changed in one night because of too many drinks you’d had ? Would the night and sobering up change your mind ?

By the time he had turned over these questions endlessly in his mind, he was taken out of his trance by the first rays of sunlight passing through the cracks of his poorly closed blinds. Without a second thought for these endless questions, he got ready to go back to your place.

Jake found himself standing in front of your door for the second time in the span of just a few hours. If earlier that night he’d been hopeful, excited and without any other words to describe it — love sick, the beating of his heart felt more hurtful than love struck now.

Swallowing felt difficult as he raised his hand to knock three times on your door.

The silence that followed somehow felt deafening. God, he should’ve known. You had changed your mind, probably sobered up and realized the mistakes you had made, you were avoiding him, playing dead, probably planning the papers to be transferred—

“Seresin,” your voice boomed, startling him out of his spiral as you opened your door in one swift movement, “you’re late.”

The relief upon seeing you was short lived, as a confused expression distorted his features.

“Late ? How am I late ? The sun’s barely up !” He countered, one arm pointing to the skyline where pretty shades of pink and yellow had began to illuminate the atmosphere.

“It’s actually been up for ten minutes, where has this military punctuality of yours gone ? I said first light, it’s the fourth one at least”

A scoff escaped him, and before any more futile arguing remarks could leave his mouth, he realized something. You were there. You had opened the door and not shooed him away yet. He barely could contain the small smile stretching his lips as he took what he hoped was a discreet, long look at you.

You had already closed shut your door behind you. You had changed clothes, which made Jake feel a bit stupid because his anxiety spiral didn’t even let him make the effort for you. Standing in front of him, arms crossed, looking at him with that frown that never seemed to leave the crease between your brows whenever you looked at him. The first and only time it did was just a few hours ago, he thought. But your usual cold and stern facade was betrayed by the pink hue blooming on your cheeks, a shade that reminded Jake of the one painting the sky above you. And that’s when it truly hit him. You had opened the door. You were there. Which could mean only one thing.

“Well, I’m here now,” he said, trying so hard to repress the giddy smile he could feel forming on his face.

“Yes you are.” You answered, an expression on your face that Jake couldn’t read.

“Is your head okay ?” He questioned a bit sheepishly, “I have ibuprofen in my car if you need.”

“I’m okay, thanks. I took one already, right when I woke up and realized the room was fucking spinning.”

Jake grimaced lightly.

“We can talk another time if you wa—“

“No.” You interrupted him firmly, “we are talking right now.”

Jake chuckled, raising his hands in mock defense. “Okay, okay, can I at least buy you something to drink and eat ? I know a nice place.”

“Is anything even opened right now ?” You asked, obviously dubious.

Jake couldn’t help but find funny the contrast of your behavior right now compared to just a few hours before with a little alcohol flowing in your veins. The stars had replaced the glowing sun of California when at this same place, right in front of your door, you had been ready to confess your love for him. And now you were acting like usual, meaning you were acting like his mere existence was a nuisance. To anyone, it would have looked like you had changed your mind and were ready to send him on his way. But to Jake, who never once missed a cue in your comportment, no matter how small or how imperceptible, it looked like an awkward attempt at keeping things the way they were — if only for a few minutes — before they inevitably changed forever. He had to admit, it was a strange feeling, to stand in front of one another, both aware of the words that you would exchange. And he couldn’t imagined how it felt for you, to have realized, and worse, outed the idea of your feelings when you were obviously not entirely in control of yourself. A control Jake knew you craved and found comfort in.

“Yes, it’s actually not too far from here.” When he saw your non-impressed look, he let out a chuckle, “come on, they even sell those French pastries you like,” he coaxed.

That seemed to do it, and somehow, Jake knew it would.

“Alright,” you conceded, “lead the way, Hangman.”

The drive was rather short. Jake wasn’t able to say if the silence filing the car was uncomfortable or just… charged.

Charged with every word left unsaid, that despite never having been spoken in the open, you both knew the extent of.

By the time Jake parked in front of the small coffee shop, the sun had settled in the eastern sky, casting a golden glow over San Diego. The early morning birds had begun to sing, it was a nice summer morning, Jake thought. It felt even nicer knowing what was to come.

“Ohh it’s cute,” you marveled, taking a look around the shop as you passed the threshold of the door, which Jake was holding open for you.

“I know, right ? And look right there.”

Your gaze followed his finger to the display of various pastries. It was like seeing your eyes light up, and Jake was unable to hide the huge grin stretching his lips at seeing you make a beeline towards the counter, admiring the sweet pastries from up close. He followed close behind you.

“See anything that catches your eye ?”

“Oh I sure I do.” You grinned.

A second after, a woman with a warm smile and kind eyes, came out of the kitchen in the back.

“Good morning, what can I get for you ?”

Jake turned to you, signaling you to go first.

“Hi,” you smiled, “can I get—“

A hot chocolate and a ‘pain au chocolat’, Jake guessed.

“A pain au chocolat and a hot chocolate, please.”

He did his best to hide his proud and fond smile.

“And for you, sir ?”

“Just a coffee, thank you.”

Jake paid for the two of you, promptly ignoring your protests. He led you to the backyard of the shop, where small tables were spread out around the yard. Trees and bushes were hiding it from the streets, giving it the intimate atmosphere Jake thought you would need to be comfortable. Adorned with flowers which colors seemed to come alive with the early morning greeting them, the yard was empty, except for the two of you, standing there.

“That’s really cute,” you remarked, looking around with a small smile on your face, “how did you even discover this place ?”

Jake led you to a small table, holding the trays with your drinks and food.

“Javy actually found it first,” he said, pulling up your chair, “occasionally we come here before or after training.”

“Ohh so you have little dates with Javy, I see,” you teased, sitting down, “what does that make me ? Your dirty mistress ?”

Jake let out a laugh as he sat down across from you, “I mean, you said it. Not me.”

“Our relationship isn’t off to a very great start,” you joked.

Jake’s heart skipped a beat right then and there, and he froze for a second.

“Relationship ?”

He cringed internally at how pathetically hopeful he sounded. But you didn’t seem to perceive his tone as expectant, only hearing slight surprise that your anxiety and nervousness totally misread in the moment. Panic flashed through your eyes as you rushed to explain yourself.

“I mean I thought that that’s what we were— you know because of yesterday ? I just— I mean I thought that was implied— but maybe I misunderstood—“

“No no, you’re good, that’s exactly what this is,” Jake interrupted your panic issued rambling, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible and not let show every bit of the giddy nervousness overwhelming his system.

You visibly couldn’t contain an exhale that perhaps you didn’t even know you were holding, and Jake could see your shoulders drop slightly out of relief. You let out a little embarrassed laugh that translated just how uneasy this whole situation felt.

“Sorry, this is a bit awkward,” you said, heat rushing to your cheeks at addressing implicitly the matter of this encounter between the two of you, “it’s just— I mean you know it’s weird, just like knowing we, um we both, you know.”

“Are in love with each other ?” Jake supplied, a small smile stretching the corner of his lips.

Your breath hitched on an inhale. The words seemed to hang between the two of you, freezing time if only for a second. And for a moment, Jake feared you would deny the word ‘love’, perhaps reduce it to ‘like’, diminish the affection you felt towards him, but—

“Yeah,” you only exhaled, a shy smile making its way onto your face and Jake physically felt himself relax, “so, where, um— where do we start ?”

“Well first I’d like to know how you realized after five mojitos that you were in love with me after spending the last few years hating me like you were paid to.” Jake said, teasing smirk firmly in place in hopes of hiding the way his heart was hammering against his rib cage.

Letting out a laugh you tore your gaze away from him, pointedly looking at the daffodils in bloom on your left, “yeah,” you admitted, stretching out the syllable, “that kinda came out of the blue, didn’t it ? That wasn’t exactly my plan to have it happen like that.”

“I can imagine.” Jake answered, smile reassuring as he tried to catch your eyes.

“I’ll be honest,” you said, straightening up and gaze returning back on him, as if regaining a bit of courage now that the words had finally passed the threshold of being spoken out loud, “I never, ever, not in my fucking wildest dreams, would have thought that I’d end up falling in love with you.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jake laughed, “we didn’t really hit it off at first, and for the next years after that.”

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed in a laugh as if you remembered something, “do you remember when we met ?”

“I think the proper question would be if I could ever forget it.”

“I fucking hated you.”

“Feelings reciprocated, sweetheart,” Jake winked as you giggled.

It was a hot day in Pensacola, Florida. Which was pretty much the case of everyday in the Sunshine State.

You couldn’t contain the mix of excitement and nerves flowing through your veins as you passed the doors of the Naval Air Station. Today would be your first flight. You wouldn’t be solo, of course not, you’d be safely assisted by an instructor in your back seat, but still. After four grueling years at the Naval Academy and six month in Pensacola, you’d finally get your familiarization flight. It was putting you just a step closer to your dream, and what a step it was.

You had spent literal years visualizing and imagining this very day, and you were certain that nothing could ruin your day.

“Y/NNNN !” The loud shriek of your name startled you on your way to the locker room.

“Jesus Christ, Natasha !” you laughed, turning around to see her, “keep your voice down !”

She totally ignored you, jogging up next to you, falling into your step as you both made your way to your lockers.

“Okay but on a scale from one to ten, how fucking excited are you ?”

Hiding the huge smile stretching your face was impossible now.

“Twelve !” You squealed, putting all your stuff into your locker.

“God I can’t wait,” Natasha sighed, almost dreamily as she was putting her own stuff into her locker. “Did you see ? They sent us the list of our partners last night.”

“Oh did they ?”

While you would be flying with an instructor in the backseat, you would be flying in the same time slot as another student, navigating a small exercise together.

“Yeah, I’m with Kathy. I’m so relieved, I was scared to end up with Javy.” She exhaled as you were making your way to the briefing room.

You let out a laugh, Natasha and you had both met Javy during your first year at the Naval Academy and Natasha and him bickered and fought every time they could.

“Come on,” she laced her arm through yours, making you quicken your step, “they said the list would be hanged in the briefing room.”

You made a beeline for the list once you passed the threshold of the room, Natasha hot on your heels. Scanning the list with focused eyes, you searched for your name.

“I looked for your name last night, and you’re with a guy named um— what was it again… Jaden, I think ?”

“Jake.” You corrected when your gaze landed on your name next to a guy’s one.

“Yeah that’s it. He’s not in our class, I see him around sometimes. Guy’s southern and he has the biggest Texan accent I’ve ever heard, makes me crack up every time I hear him honestly,” Natasha chuckled behind you, before adding, “he’s super hot though.”

Turning around to face her, you raised an inquisitive brow.

“Objectively !” She defended herself, feeling exposed under your prying stare, “I’m just saying, if I liked men, I’d totally go for him.”

You couldn’t have hidden the surprise you felt at her words.

“He must really be something, then.”

“Oh trust me, he is.”

And Natasha was right, he was. But in the worst possible way.

He seemed charming enough when you went up to introduce yourself to him before the flight, when Natasha had pointed him out to you.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you said with a polite smile, extending a hand, “we’re flying together for the familiarisation flight.”

You had been doubtful of Natasha’s marvels about his looks. But you had to admit, he was hot. And hot wasn’t even cutting it. He looked like the type of man you fell in love with in dreams, a man so perfect it left your heart empty when you’d wake up knowing that no one even close to that man existed.

“Jake,” he said with a smile so charming it almost left you speechless for a second as his big hand slid into yours, his warmth immediately sipping into your skin.

And you felt your heart do something weird in your chest.

Ever since entering the Naval Academy and more so when entering the Naval Flight School, you had pretty much closed off every romantic relationship, choosing to focus on your career. And Jake was doing something very dangerous to your focus right now.

But his heavenly looks were quickly subdued by his godawful personality. And that was a harsh come back to reality.

“So this flight will consist of a small exercise, the one you’ve been training for on the sim. You’ll be in total control of the plane, we’re just in your backseats to make sure you don’t run us into the ground. Sounds good ?” Both yours and Jake’s instructors had explained in the ready room.

You had trained for this exercise probably harder than everyone else in your class, spending almost a hundred hours on that damn simulation to be sure to get it perfect for the big day. And from what Natasha had told you, Jake had been top of his class at the Academy and he had the highest sim scores out of every recruit on base.

Surely, this would be easy.

Take off went without any problem. And it felt surreal to finally have your hands on the center stick and know you were the one controlling the giant metal bird.

“Alright,” you heard your instructor’s voice behind you and echoing in your comms, “steady altitude, ceiling’s at ten thousand feet, start when you are ready.”

Making a turn right, you officially started the exercise. It was only a matter of placement, teamwork and height control. Nothing tricky or especially hard, nothing you hadn’t been training for.

Keeping a steady pace for the first part of the exercise, a quick look to your left made you frown. Jake’s plane was way too close to yours, more than what was necessary for a formation like that.

“T-6 one reporting to T-6 two” your voice crackled in the comms, “could you back up a little please ? You’re too close.”

“T-6 two reporting to T-6 one, I’m far away enough, staying in position.”

You — barely — contained a surprised and offended scoff. What the hell ?

What did he mean, ‘far away enough’, the guy was practically clipping your wing !

You expected your instructor or his to say something, tell him to actually back up, but they didn’t. You guess that as they had said, if none of you were in active danger of crashing, they wouldn’t intervene.

Swallowing back your pride, you said nothing else, just focused back on the exercise.

But it just got worse from there.

Jake was not even following the formation and exercise course anymore, deciding to show off and toe with the altitude ceiling.

“T-6 two to T-6 one, taking some altitude.” He said, not even a question, his voice sounding commanding.

Without a response from you, he took the initiative, plane rising up a few feet.

“T-6 one to T-6 two, abort, you’re too close to the ceiling.” You retorted, barely hiding your exasperation with his antics now.

“Not even a little, join me.”

The sheer audacity of that man was making your blood boil. You were about to cut his bullshit short when the voice of your instructor carried over from the backseat.

“You need to stick together, pull up.”

Your hand froze on the center stick for a second, what the fuck ?

“With all due respect sir, aren’t we supposed to steer clear of the ceiling ?”

“As long as you aren’t breaching it, it’s all good. Match his altitude.”

Reluctantly, you positioned your airplane next to his, keeping a reasonable and textbook distance from him.

Then out of nowhere, Jake sped up, leaving you behind and fuming under your helmet. What the fuck was this guy doing ?

“T-6 one to T-6 two, you are going too fast, slow down.” You called him out.

“You can never go too fast,” his voice crackled through the comms and somehow you could hear the self satisfied smirk in his voice and even though your eyes weren’t blessed to see it, you decided that this one definitely wasn’t as charming as the one he gave you earlier on the tarmac. “Match my pace.”

“No,” your answer was firm, you had already matched his altitude, and only because of your instructor, otherwise you would have given Jake a piece of your mind. And that was exactly what you were about to do. “You match my pace, end of discussion. I went to your altitude, so you go to my speed.”

Your authoritative tone was met with silence, one that left you squirming in your seat. For a moment, you feared that you’d get reprimanded by your instructor for being too harsh, or too commanding. But the scolding never came, only Jake’s voice resonated in your ears.

“Yes, ma’am,” was simply Jake’s answer, and you hated that you could still so clearly hear the smirk in his voice.

You felt yourself relax, maybe now you would be able to properly enjoy your first flight instead of worrying about his unpredictable next move. But perhaps had you been too quick to let down your guard.

Suddenly you were met with Jake’s radome, coming at full speed towards you. Your body, nor your mind even had the time to react, the only thing that registered was fear. Sheer and unfiltered fear that made your hands freeze on the center sticks. As quickly as he had turned around, Jake deviated, flying past you, almost clipping your right wing. His bird turned around you, closer than comfortable to the rear of your aircraft and finally ended up beside you.

It seemed as though time had frozen.

“Jesus Christ, Seresin !” You heard his instructor exclaim in an incredulous laugh and you wondered what there was to laugh about in this situation.

“That was an unnecessary maneuver, Seresin, very impressive but unnecessary.” Your instructor remarked through the comms and you were fuming over the praise.

Was no one going to firmly condemn his careless behavior ? If he had been one millimeter off, all four of you would be knees deep into the ground !

“Alright I think that’s enough for today, let’s go back to base.”

During the flight back to base, you felt stuck in that fight or flight feeling you got when you saw Jake’s plane coming right onto yours at full speed. Your knuckles were turning white on the center stick, and you did your best to hide your frantic breathing. Adrenaline was still pumping in your veins, your whole body trembling beneath your flight suit. Landing the plane proved to be a challenge, but your instructor seemed to notice none of it when he joyfully praised ‘beautiful landing, Y/N.’

When your boots hit the concrete floor, your instructor only threw you a ‘debrief in five !’ over his shoulder before he left you alone, standing next to your plane with trembling legs.

Behind you, you heard the heavy sound of someone jumping off their jet ladder, and when you turned around, your blood ran cold.

Jake was there. Helmet in hand, self satisfied smirk firmly in place after he had nearly killed you both. The fear left your body in the blink of an eye, only leaving fury boiling in your veins. You were already two meters away from him when you realized that your legs had taken you right up to him.

“Hey, what the fuck was that ?” Your outraged voice echoed against the wing of his plane.

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, and his face contorted in a confused expression that only fueled the rage piling up in your throat.

“Hey, woah calm down.”

There couldn’t have been a worse possible choice of words for him in this instant.

“Calm down ? Calm down ?! You almost fucking killed us both !” You screamed, anger bursting out of you as you took another step towards him.

Jake seemed wildly unimpressed by the fury burning in your eyes, he only raised his brows at you.

“Well, are we dead ? No. So no need to come screaming about it in my face, sweetheart.” He scoffed, turning away from you and walking towards the hangar.

You thought for a second that your ears had deceived you. Who the fuck did he think he was ?

“Hey !” You walked after him, “I’m talking to you, do you realize how insane you fucking sound ? You almost—“

Suddenly he turned back around, and you almost bumped into him.

“No, do you realize how insane you sound ? Yelling at me about something that didn’t happen !” He snapped, “just because I pulled a maneuver that you can’t do doesn’t mean you have to nag my ear off about how it was ‘dangerous’ ! It wasn’t, because I know what I’m fucking doing.” He finished in a breath, his green eyes — that only an hour before you had found so enchanting — were boring straight into yours, and you didn’t like the flash of superiority you saw in them.

Natasha was right. He had a thick Texan drawl, and if you weren’t in such conditions you probably would have found it attractive.

“Oh my god, who the fuck do you even think you are ?” Your voice raised an octave from the sheer anger sizzling under your skin, an incredulous laugh left you, this situation couldn’t be real, “you don’t fucking know me !”

“Oh, I know enough. Do you know any fighter pilots who are afraid to approach the ceiling or go a little fast ?” He spat in your face.

“I’m not afraid I was just respecting the rules of the exercise and If you think playing with orders makes you better than me you’re a fucking idiot !”

That made him let out a humorless chuckle.

“I mean I don’t know. Didn’t hear any of the instructors complain, but I bet they’ll definitely have something to say about your landing.” He scoffed that last part out.

You didn’t think it was possible for your fury to reach new heights, but apparently every single word coming out of Jake’s mouth was making you discover new things about yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ you are the biggest asshole I’ve ever met, you fucking—“

“Hey what’s going on here ?” Your instructor’s voice resonated behind you.

Freezing, you felt your blood run cold for the nth time that day.

Turning around, you saw his brows furrowed. Clear disappointment on his face that made your heart sink into your stomach.

“What the hell is this screaming match ? We can hear you all the way to the debrief room !”

You half expected to hear Jake’s voice retort something to discredit you, but you were at least relieved to see he knew to shut it in front of a superior.

In front of both of your silence, your instructor’s voice raised again, “not much to say now, huh ? This is not the kind of behavior that flies high here, alright ? Both of you, grounded for a week. Maybe that’ll teach you something.”

“What ?” You heard yourself exclaim along with Jake.

“Sir, with all due respect—“ Jake started.

“I don’t want to hear it, you’re grounded. That’ll leave you some time to think about how a Naval Aviator must behave.”

Your eyes were strained on your boots. This felt so humiliating. And you knew exactly who to blame.

“Now get your asses to the debrief room.”

He turned around, boots angrily hitting the floor and Jake and you wasted no time to follow behind him.

“This is all your fault,” you heard him whisper accusatory next to you.

“Oh my God just shut the fuck up already.” You whispered in an exasperated exhale.

You didn’t think you had truly hated anyone, or even anything, for that matter. Sure, you disliked things. Disliked certain food, disliked the way certain people were too full of themselves, disliked rainy days… but you had never hated anything, especially anyone.

But you knew it then, you hated Jake Seresin. More than anything.

But it would be alright you thought. Jake wasn’t in your class, and after graduation you’d probably be sent on bases on opposite sides of the country. Or he would probably end up joining the Blue Angels, if he liked to play and do aerobatics for people to marvel at so much.

Either way, you’d never seen him again.

“Jesus, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, what an arrogant son of a bitch you were.” You snickered before taking a bite of your pastry.

Jake let out a laugh, slightly shaking his head, “I’ll have to agree with you on that one.”

You feigned to freeze, mouth hanging open around your pain au chocolat.

“Jake ? Is that… is that an acknowledgement of your past mistakes I hear ?” You wondered in a mock, overly amazed tone.

He playfully nudged your foot under the table as he rolled his eyes and you giggled, taking another bite of your sweet treat.

“That looks good.”

“It is.”

“Can I have a bite ?”

Truly, Jake didn’t expect anything when asking. You weren’t particularly fond of sharing your food. Especially if it was one of those French pastries you loved so much. And especially if sharing was with him.

But then Jake got hit back with the context of your meeting in such early lights of the morning. You loved him. Maybe that would make you more inclined to share. The thought had his chest filling with warmth and he hoped that the top of his ears weren’t reflecting the sudden fluster he felt.

You seemed to consider it, if only for a second, before your hand reached out with the pastry still in hand.

“Here.”

Refraining a grin, Jake made a move to grab the pastry but you swatted his hand away.

“Just bite it.”

Unable to contain it any longer, his lips stretched out in a delighted smile.

“Ohh bossy, I like it, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you were powerless to hide the pink hue blooming across your cheeks, “take the damn bite before I change my mind, Seresin.”

Jake leaned in, eyes boring into yours as his teeth sunk into the flakey treat. Warm and rich chocolate instantly filled his mouth.

“Mhm, damn that’s good.” He marveled in a mouthful.

“Of course it is, had you never tasted one ?”

He shook his head. Chewing, his eyes trailed down to your lips, and he wondered if he were to kiss you right now, if you’d taste like the chocolate you were eagerly biting off the pastry.

“You have a flake here,” your voice took him out of his reverie as you were pointing to the right side of your own mouth.

Purposely, Jake wiped the wrong side of his mouth and internally marveled at the rolling of your eyes.

“The other side, idiot.”

He leaned slightly over the table, “get it for me.”

“You are such a baby,” you muttered under your breath, nonetheless reaching out to gently wipe the flake off from the corner of his mouth, and he barely repressed the shiver running along his spine at your finger being so close to his lips. “There, take it.” You said, holding the crumb of pastry out to him.

Refraining a smirk, Jake leaned in, face coming impossibly closer with your held out finger. As delicately as someone like him was able to, his lips touched your skin, closing around the flake, tongue coming in to sweep it off your finger, barely grazing you. All the while his jade green eyes were locked onto yours, and he was able to see the whirlwind of surprise and fluster flash through your gaze. The pink hue on your cheeks took on a darker shade as it spread from your neck all the way to the tip of your ears.

“Thanks, darlin’.”

Jake could have sworn he saw your lips twitch, maybe debating on insulting him or maybe kissing him senseless, making up for lost time.

He prayed it was the second option.

You quickly retracted your hand, busying yourself with a sip of your hot chocolate, while Jake absolutely reveled in the obvious stir up of emotions he was causing in you.

Jake smirked before taking on a mock serious expression, “I mean, thinking about it, all of this could have easily been avoided if you had just matched my pace.”

Watching you realize the implication behind his words might have been the highlight of Jake’s year, an undignified scoff left you. “Fuck you, Jake.”

“We’ll eventually come to that, yes.”

Your eyes widened out before your foot kicked his shin under the table, “you are the worst, I hope you know that.”

He hummed, eyes raking appreciatively over your flustered form, “I do know, now why don’t you stop deflecting and tell me how you realized you loved me ?” He asked, casual smile firmly in place while trying to calm down the frantic beating of his heart against his chest.

Taking a deep breath, you put down your cup of hot chocolate and immediately your fingers went to play with crumbs from the pastry on your plate, looking for a distraction, your eyes followed the movement, not daring to face Jake’s intrusive stare.

You cleaned your throat before speaking, “um… a few months ago, maybe four or five months I don’t really remember, I had this talk with Bob and—“

“Bob ?” Jake interrupted, the ecstasy he felt upon you telling him about your feelings momentarily replaced by sheer confusion upon hearing the name of his teammate in such a context.

“Jake.”

“Sorry, go on.”

“I was talking with Bob at the Hard deck…”

Perched on your stool, you were sipping on your drink, eyes intensely trained on Jake from across the room.

He was leaning against the bar, flashing his dazzling smile at a pretty blonde that had been hanging on his arm ever since he’d set foot in the bar.

Nothing went unnoticed by your focused gaze on the pair.

Not the way the girl’s hand was brushing his forearm everytime he said something that made her laugh, not the occasional wink he’d throw after an overly flirtatious comment, and certainly not the proximity between the two that seemed to shrink with every passing minute they spent together.

To the untrained eye, it might have seemed like envy, desire, jealousy, even.

But you deemed evident that anyone who truly knew you would know that this was just pure resentment for Jake. You hated the way he talked, moved, behaved, breathe…

You just hated him. And perhaps what you hated above all was this mating parade he seemed to throw himself in every time the squad came to the Hard Deck. It’s like he couldn’t help but whore himself around for everyone to see, thinking that every woman on God’s green Earth wanted him.

“What are you doing ?” Bob’s joyful voice suddenly reached your ears, the sudden sound tearing you out of your trance.

“Jesus Christ, Bob !” You exclaimed, jolting and almost dropping half of your drink on your clothes, “where the fuck did you come from ?”

“I’ve been here for quite some time actually,” he smiled, somehow knowingly, at you. “What are you looking at ?” He asked again.

“Nothing,” you lied, “what were you doing just standing there ?”

“I was waiting for you to stop looking at Jake so we could talk.”

You froze, if only for a second, before forcing yourself to act normal.

Scoffing, you let out an undignified laugh, “Jake ? Do you hear yourself ? I wasn’t looking at him, i’d rather crash my plane and be left for dead before I even look at him a second longer than what the United States Navy requires me to do my job correctly. And even then I don’t even look in his direction, his whole existence makes me want to throw up.”

Bob watched your rant with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you must have had a lot on your mind.”

Yeah, perhaps that’d been too much.

Cringing a bit at your outburst, you cleared your throat, “yeah, it seems I did.”

Bob’s gaze turned to Jake, who was still eagerly talking with the blonde at the bar. And Bob hid a smirk when he made eye contact with Jake, the southern man’s eyes drifted towards you, checking to see if you were watching him. Bob saw the clear disappointment in his eyes when Jake noticed that you were too absorbed by swirling your straw into your drink, and he reluctantly directed his attention back to the woman flirtatiously gripping his forearm.

“Is it bothering you ?” Bob asked you in that calm voice of his.

“Is what bothering me ?”

“Jake flirting with that girl.”

Freezing for the second time in the span of three minutes, you looked back at your friend, wondering where the hell was this coming from, and why the fuck was your heart beating so hard against your rib cage.

“Why would that bother me ?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”

“I don’t give a shit what he does.” You tried to say as matter of factly as possible.

Bob hummed, “could’ve fooled me.”

You squinted your eyes at him, “is there something you wanna tell me, Bob ?”

He looked at you for a second, a warm smile on his lips as he seemed to carefully choose his next words.

“Can I ask you for some advice ? I have a friend who’s in a bit of a tricky situation, and I’d like to know what you think.”

A bit surprised by the turn of the conversation, you shrugged, “yeah, go ahead,” you agreed, sipping your drink and sneaking a glance toward Jake, one of his finger was twirling a strand of the girl’s hair and it physically made you want to throw up. He was disgusting.

“She likes this guy,” Bob started, making you tear your eyes away from the repulsive spectacle taking place in front of you, to look at him. “But I think she’s really in denial about it.”

You frowned, “in denial ? So how do you know she likes him if she doesn’t even know it herself ?”

He shrugged with a mischievous smile, “it’s obvious.”

“Hmm, and what’s the problem ?”

“I just don’t like to see her deny herself of something that could make her happy if she would just accept it.”

Your heart clenched at his words and a weird sense of longing filled your chest, almost unconsciously your gaze drifted to Jake again, and when your eyes met his for a brief second, you immediately looked away.

You cleared your throat, “why don’t you just talk to her about it ?”

“it’s just gonna make her clam up if I’m too upfront, I need to be more subtle than that. What do you think I should do ?”

Bob’s eyes were intensely trained on you, and you squirmed lightly under his prying gaze. It was as though his warm and sapphire eyes were stripping you bare, breaking down every one of the careful walls you’d spent years building up and you weren’t sure why the conversation was making you so uncomfortable.

“I mean,” you let out a sigh, taking a second to think it over, “I don’t really know. Maybe just have a conversation about life ?” You tried, “I know it sounds stupid but maybe talking about missed chances, how life is short and all that might make her realise something ? Act on her feelings ? I don’t know, Bob, sorry I’m not a huge help.” Chuckling, somehow sadly, you stirred up your drink with your straw, busying yourself by watching the liquid swirl in your glass.

“No, that’s great advice actually,” he smiled warmly at you, “I guess the guy she likes doesn’t really fit the idea she has of love, you know ? They haven’t always gotten along, so I guess she’s stuck with a vision of him that she refuses to let go of, and also even a version of herself.”

Your breath hitched without knowing why and Bob paused, his voice dropping to a soft and gentle tone.

“And I get her, you know ? It’s scary to challenge and let go of a belief you’ve had for a long time. But it’s a part of life, and I just hope that for herself, she’ll accept her feelings, and know that it doesn’t change who she is as a person.”

Feeling a weird and unexpected — even unwanted — wave of emotions crash over you, you swallowed difficultly. Bob’s words resonated so hard within you it felt like your inner world had shifted on its axis, and even though his wisdom wasn’t directed towards you, you felt so fully understood.

Instinctively, and without anything you could have done to stop it, your gaze searched for Jake in the crowd. He was still at the bar, but the tall blonde was gone. Sitting alone, he was lightly chatting with Penny whenever she came his way to fill up beers. He looked at ease, and your heart clenched at the sigh. The feeling of longing you felt earlier returned in full force, almost taking your breath away.

“Will you tell me if she finally realizes it ?” You asked Bob, eyes still trained on Jake.

Bob hummed, a hand coming up to your shoulder to squeeze it affectionately, “I have a feeling you’ll know.”

“So you’re telling me I owe our relationship to Bob ?” Jake asked incredulously and a tiny bit offended.

“Is that truly the only thing you got out of all this ?”

The side of his lips quirked up, “not at all, sweetheart. Absolutely loved how jealous you were. I’m happy to know it worked.”

Confusion slid his way onto your face, making a crinkle in between your brow apparent as you gazed at Jake, “happy to know what worked ?”

Jake reached out to tear a piece of your pain au chocolat, and was actually surprised you let him.

“You didn’t actually think I went home with every woman I talked to at the Hard Deck, did you ?” He said with a playful grin, throwing the piece of pastry in his mouth.

“I mean I don’t know, you are pretty damn convincing,” you muttered and Jake could hear the clear annoyance in your voice, and it only made him smile brighter.

He knew you were jealous every-time a girl came up to him at the Hard Deck, he could feel your eyes boring into the side of his head whenever he played into it. That was the only reason he did it.

“You know I never engaged with anyone, right ?” He asked, his voice dropping to a gentle tone.

“Do you seriously expect me to believe that ?”

God, he loved seeing you get riled up over him. Seeing you so blatantly show your desire towards him, even more so in a sense of possessiveness made him slightly feral if he were honest. It was the confirmation of every implicit sign you had unconsciously given him over time, the confirmation of every single fantasy he’s had, the confirmation of every ‘what if’s’. And finally having you talk about it in the open was a feeling like no other that Jake wouldn’t be able to describe, even with all the words in the English language.

“I just wanted to make you react,” he tilted his head in an attempt to catch your eyes, “I thought that maybe jealousy would make you realise something, and I mean… I was right.” He smirked teasingly.

You glared at him.

Jake straightened up a bit, “I haven’t really engaged with anyone ever since I fell in love with you.”

He found it surprising how easily the words were slipping away from him.

He saw you visibly tense up a little before speaking, “when did you fall in love with me ?”

He pretended to think for a second, if only in a poor attempt to not look completely head over heels for you, even though he was. Jake knew the exact moment he realized his heart beat to the rhythm of you, he could tell you what day it was, what time surely. The clothes you were wearing, what perfume you had put on, what song was playing in the background… and he would be able to recount it all in the most acute of details even in a hundred years if he were given the chance to.

“At Mav and Penny’s party when Mav moved in,” he finally said after a fake time of reflection.

Jake could see the exact moment the information registered into your brain. Your eyes widened, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open in the most shell shocked expression he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ, Jake !” You exclaimed, “that was…” taking the time to think it over, the number you landed on only made you more astonished, “that was four years ago !”

Feeling the top of his ears redden slightly, he slowly nodded. “Yeah…”

You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t really decipher, shock, that’s for sure, but there was something else. Sadness…? Regret, maybe ?

“Why didn’t you tell me ?” You asked, in a bit of a breathless voice, “we could have had this conversation a long time ago.”

He shook his head with a small smile, “No, I don’t think we could have.” When he saw your offended expression, he was quick to explain himself, “I don’t think you would have been ready, I mean, shit I can’t believe I’m about to say that but Bob was right, you would have clammed up. Would have rejected me if I’d told you then, probably changed squadron to never see my face again. It wasn’t the right time.”

His response obviously surprised you, and he could see the faintest tremble in your fingers where you were cupping your hot chocolate.

“So… you just waited ?”

“I did.”

He saw you sucked in a breath, “why ?”

Jake stared at you for a moment.

The sun had well settled into the sky now, its rays coming down gently to bless your skin, making you look like a fallen angel who had taken the time to come down on earth and chose him, of all people, as a receptacle of all your attention. The sing song of the nearby birds only added to the feeling of serenity filing up Jake’s veins.

He’d always thought that he felt the most at ease in the air.

But perhaps all he needed was you.

Perhaps you expected a longer time of reflexion, but the answer came to him like en evidence, a quiet truth he’d been carrying for so long there was nothing much he could do to hold it back anymore.

“Because I love you.”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment.

“I love you and I knew this wasn’t the right time. I had hope maybe one day you’d feel the same way, you know ? and when I finally started to notice you did, I… I don’t know how to explain it, but it still wasn’t the right time. You were so focused on hating me that my feelings wouldn’t have changed a thing. You weren’t ready, so I waited.”

And he would have waited a million years if that’s what you had needed. He kept it to himself for now, thinking that perhaps it might be too early to be saying such things, but you were it for him, he waited because there was no one else he could ever fathom spend the rest of his life with. For four years, in his mind, it had always been you and him.

The expression on your face was unreadable, and for a second Jake feared that perhaps it’d been too much. And his heart dropped when he noticed the faint, glowing sheen of water in your eyes.

You let out a nervous laugh that was awfully watery, too much for his liking, “Jesus, Jake,” you looked up, obviously intent on trying to avoid any tear running down your cheeks, “who knew you were so romantic ?”

Jake absolutely melted at that. All he wanted was to smuggle you in the affection he had locked up during all these years, but he reigned it in, reminded himself to take it slow.

“Well now you know, and you’ll get to enjoy it plenty,” he said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively in hope of seeing a smile making its way back onto your face.

And it worked. The sound of your laugh blessed his ears, making his own lips stretch out.

“It was a nice night,” you said when your giggle died down.

“You remember it ?” Jake questioned in a hopeful tone, eager to know if perhaps that night had meant as much to you as it had meant to him.

“Yeah, it was nice to not be fighting for once.”

He let out a small snicker, “yeah… I think about that night often.”

“Tell me about it.”

Jake’s brow furrowed in confusion, through a smile remained on his face, “what for ? You just said you remember it.”

“So ? That’s when you fell in love with me, I had to tell you my story, so tell me yours.”

He lightly bit his lip, a poor attempt at refraining himself either from kissing you breathless or just pouring out more of his feelings into the open.

Clearing his throat, he took on an exaggerated storyteller’s voice, “on a nice and warm summer evening…”

Giggling, you leaned in, head resting on your open palms, avidly drinking him in along with his words.

“Goddamn is this thing heavy !” Mickey complained, voice strained with the effort of holding up his corner of the pool table.

“No shit,” Javy retorted, voice just as breathy.

“Did we really have to buy a fucking pool table as a gift ?” Reuben questioned while adjusting his grip.

“Why aren’t you helping ?” Bradley gritted out at Jake, who was right behind, simply watching the four of them struggling to get the large table through the door.

“I don’t know,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth, “you guys seem to be doing just fine.”

“Jesus Christ I’m gonna drop it,” Mickey groaned under his breath, “Penny !” He called out, “where do you want us to put this thing ?”

His question was only met with silence.

“Shit I can’t—“

He didn’t even finish his sentence that he let his corner of the table drop, landing with a loud thud. With Mickey’s abrupt abandon, all the boys dropped their own corner one by one, the table falling heavy on the ground.

Just a second after, Penny came rushing in.

“Hey ! Be careful of my floor ! It’s hard wood !”

“Oh so that’s when you decide to show up ?” Bradley groaned.

“Watch your mouth, Bradshaw,” she warned in a mock serious tone, index finger pointing directly at Bradley, “come on everyone, let’s get outside for drinks, we’ll take care of this later.” She beckoned.

Everyone followed after her, and just as Jake was about to pass the door’s threshold, he heard footsteps coming from downstairs. Turning around, he saw you.

The corner of his lips stretched out automatically.

If there was anything Jake loved as much as winning and flying, it was annoying you.

And you were easy to rile up, always jumped right into it. Sometimes, Jake thought that maybe you liked fighting with him just as much as he liked fighting with you.

“Lightning,” he called out.

Whereas a smile automatically made its way onto Jake’s face whenever he saw you, on your end, it seemed to be your eyes, rolling all the way to the back of your head that worked as a reflex whenever he set foot into your vision.

“What do you want ?” You huffed out, tone dripping with annoyance.

“A game of pool ?” He asked, picking up two cue sticks.

You let out a scoff, as if the idea was down right incongruous.

“What makes you believe I’d ever want to play with an arrogant jerk like you ?”

Jake shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face, “why not ? I thought you liked a challenge.”

You only glared at him for a moment before walking past him, making your way outside to join all the others.

But of course, Jake wasn’t gonna let you leave so easily.

“I mean I get you, I’d flee too if I were you. Really, there’s no shame in being scared to lose.”

Without even turning around, he heard your footsteps stop.

God, it was almost too easy.

There was no possible way Jake would have been able to council the absolute shit eating grin making its way onto his face as you backed up, facing him once again.

Your brows were furrowed in that ever lasting frown that seemed to never leave your face in his presence. But in your eyes was shining a twinkle of provocation. Jake and you fought everyday, in the air and on the ground, and you never let up an occasion to shut him up, much to his pleasure.

“Okay,” you conceded, “I’ll play with you. But darts, not pool.”

Smirking from ear to ear, it was physically impossible for him to smile bigger than that, but had it been possible, he would have.

You were good at darts. Better than good, you were great. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to beat Jake at pool, so naturally you had picked something where you’d have a chance.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

Penny had an indoor electronic game of darts that the whole squad absolutely overused every time they came over.

Jake gathered all the darts, handing three of them to you.

“Ladies first,” he made a show of exaggeratedly letting you open the game, “we playing best of three ?”

Scoffing, you took the darts, “what ? You scared you’re gonna lose with just one round ?” You inquired, a teasing smile making its way onto your face.

Was Jake scared to lose ? Never. It thrilled him knowing someone could meet his skills and potentially challenge his never ending winning streak, though it was very unlikely.

But did he fear you’d run away outside after only one round of the game without even glancing twice his way ? Yeah.

The best of three was purely so he could spend more time with you.

“What do I get when I win ?” You asked, settling in front of the board.

“When you win ?” Jake laughed, “that’s a little presumptuous don’t you think, darlin’ ?”

“Look at you using big words, i’m surprised you know the definition. And I already told you to not call me darling.”

He had about a hundred and one witty remarks loaded and ready to go when the loud sound of the electric board reacting to the landing of your first throw cut him off.

Bullseyes.

You turned back to him, a satisfied smirk on your lips.

“As I was saying, what do I get when I win ?”

Your confidence and satisfaction over your abilities made his stomach flip. Gazing down at you, he hummed.

“Whatever you want, winner should get to choose their prize.”

Humming back, you threw your second dart.

The board cheered loudly. Bullseyes.

Shit, perhaps he had underestimated you.

Your third dart landed on the triple ring.

“What about you not talking to me for two weeks ?”

Jake simply raised his eyebrows at you, while pointedly ignoring the tug at his heartstrings.

“Jesus, do you hate me that much ?” He snickered, watching you gather back your darts as he got ready for his turn, hoping his tone came across as teasing disbelief and did not show any bit of the pitt he felt settling down in his stomach.

Turning back around to stand next to him, you didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“I want you to buy my drinks the next four times we are at the Hard Deck,” you simply said.

“I can do that,” he conceded, a genuine smile melting into his usual smirk.

Jake threw his three darts one after another, the projectiles all landing right in the center.

He suppressed a laugh as he heard you sigh in annoyance next to him, “thank you my dear Lightning for asking what I want if I win.” He cooed in an overly nice and touched voice, “Let’s see… I want you to be my wingman on every training for a month.”

That seemed to spark a new desire to win within you.

“Move over,” you mumbled.

Two triple ring and one double ring. Pursing your lips at your score, you let Jake take his turn.

“Okay what the fuck ?” You exclaimed after his first two throw landed on bullseyes. “You have to be cheating, there’s no way.”

“How exactly do you think I might be cheating, sweetheart ?”

“I don’t know yet, but trust that I will get to the bottom of this.”

His heart flipped when you didn’t even reprimanded him over the pet name.

“Okay, Sherlock. Call me when you have a lead.” He chuckled, throwing his last dart, which, obviously, landed on bullseyes.

You scoffed but Jake saw the hint of a smile pulling at your lips, and the warm feeling suddenly taking his whole body hostage felt familiar. He noticed it had been happening more and more around you lately.

“Tell me if you want any advice, you look like you might need some.” He teasingly told you as you got ready.

“For starters, you shutting up might help me so shush.”

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” He saluted you.

Jake saw you biting your lip in a vain attempt to repress a smile, “stop that,” you warned.

Two out of your three darts landed right in the middle, and he got this weird sensation of disappointment to know he hadn’t shook you enough to make you lose focus.

When he stepped up to get ready to throw, your hand lifted to cover up his eyes, not close enough to touch him, but close enough that he could feel the warm radiating off your skin.

He burst out laughing, “is that your way of checking I’m not cheating ?”

“Yes,” you replied in all seriousness, “now throw, I’d like to see you try to land a bullseyes like that.”

Gently, Jake grabbed your wrist and positioned your hand so it was now entirely covering his eyes, making direct contact with his skin.

You were so close to him now he could vaguely smell your shampoo, and Jake felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he refrained a shiver.

“That’s better,” he said in a breath.

“Just throw.”

Obediently, and not without feeling a strange flutter in his lower stomach, Jake threw his first dart.

The loud ringing of the board told him everything he needed to know.

“Oh come on you have to be fucking kidding me !” You protested while keeping your hand in front of his eyes.

A laugh bubbled out of him, “what can I say, darlin’ ? Greatness is not stopped by darkness.”

“Yeah right, okay wise man, did you get that quote from fucking Facebook ?” you chuckled and Jake followed along, “back up. I will get you to fail a throw.”

“I admire your life goals, Lightning.”

Your hand was still covering his eyes, and Jake was absolutely reeling from the closeness. He took two steps back and stopped. And he swore he could practically hear your eyebrows shot up.

“No no, cowboy, further back, come on.”

“Okay I feel like you’re the one who’s cheating now.”

You let out a giggle that made his heart skip a beat, “I will refrain from commenting these allegations for now.”

Jake’s cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling, but he found it be to a pleasurable ache, made better by the knowledge it was caused by you.

When he took another step back, his foot met the step that was very inconveniently placed in the middle of Penny’s living room.

It was a step that everybody cursed and that caused the literal downfall of a number of people. It was already too late for him when Jake realized it was there, and he felt himself stumble backwards.

“Oh my god, Jake !” Your panicked voice resonated in his ears as your hand finally left his eyes.

He landed hard on his butt with a loud thud.

The first thing he registered was your laugh. He squinted up at you, his eyes slowly getting readjusted to the light. You were doubled hover laughing, laughing so hard in fact that there was barely any sound coming out of you.

The pain Jake felt in his backside immediately dulled at the sight of you.

Pretending to frown, though it was very hard considering the smile that reached his ears, he looked up at you, “wow Lightning, I mean I knew you were vicious but to purposely hurt your opponent in order to win ? I really thought that was below you.”

Your eyes widened out through your laughter, “Seresin, you are not seriously accusing me of sabotage right now ?”

“Oh I very much am.”

Shoulders still shaking with the remains of your laughter, you lightly wiped the tears that had accumulated in your eyes.

And it hit Jake that rarely had he ever seen you like that. He had, of course, but always from afar.

He saw you joke with Natasha, affectionately banter with Bradley, laugh your ass off with Coyote… but never with him.

It did something to him right there and then, like his heart was soaring, similar to the feeling he got whenever he took off into the air.

And he decided he liked it.

“I’m sorry,” you said when the laughter died down a bit, “I didn’t mean to make you fall, I swear. I had forgot about this stupid step.” You explained, still smiling while you held out a hand to help him.

Jake made a show of looking between your hand and your face, which you playfully rolled your eyes at.

“I accept your apology,” he conceded teasingly, accepting your help and purposely letting you do all the work.

“Jesus Christ, you are heavy,” you groaned once you had finally gotten him back up.

Towering back over you, there was only a few inches between you now, and Jake noted how you didn’t immediately back away.

“That’s all muscle weight, darlin’.” He winked at you.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you retorted in a snicker but the red tip of your ears betrayed you. “Alright let’s finish this—“

“There you are ! What the fuck are you guys doing ? We’re about to eat,” Natasha exclaimed, bursting through the door.

Her booming voice made you both jump.

“We were playing darts, we’re almost finished.” Jake replied.

Natasha stared at the two of you, her eyes going from you to Jake.

“Playing ? As in playing together ?” She asked, visibly dubious.

“Yeah,” you answered, shrugging in a poor attempt to look casual.

“What even made you agree to play with him ?”

Jake witnessed the impact of her words on you. You took a step back from him, straightened back up and the smile made a prompt departure from your face.

You scoffed, not in the playful way you did only minutes prior, but more in the annoyed way, the way you usually did whenever you were near him.

“I don’t even know, guess I was bored.”

Natasha only nodded, “alright, come on outside now, both of you. Dinner’s ready.”

With only a brief look back towards him, eyes full of something Jake couldn’t decipher, you made your way outside.

He stayed inside for a moment, alone with the turmoil of feelings sitting heavy in his chest.

Jake considered himself to be an emotionally intelligent and aware man, so the answer came to him easily.

He was in love with you.

There was no hiding it, there was no denying it. The truth was simple and it settled quietly in his chest.

But he did chuckle to himself when he noticed the irony of the predicament he found himself in.

Of all the girls fawning over him, he had to fall for the one who despised him more than anything.

But it was okay, he thought, he could live with that. Sure, it’d hurt sometimes, but he could live with it.

Rubbing his face, he finally made his way outside and when he saw you laugh again with Natasha and Bradley, he realized that he’d be fine simply continuing to exist alongside you, no matter if you returned his feelings one day.

All he needed was you, whether you loved him back or not.

“Wow, you’re a great storyteller,” you marveled, visibly a bit choked up.

Jake only watched you for a second, eyes gently raking over your emotional form.

“Do you want the last piece ?” You suddenly asked, pointing to the last small chunk of pain au chocolat on your plate.

“I’m good, thank you, darlin’. Enjoy it,” he replied in a gentle and enamored voice.

He smiled over how your cheeks seemed to bloom over his tone, and you quickly ate the last piece.

“Do you want to go someplace else ?” Jake questioned, giving you an opportunity to compose yourself on the way.

And you eagerly grabbed the lifeline he threw you.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Getting up, you both made your way to leave, you leading the march. When suddenly you turned around, making Jake almost bumped into you.

“Wait,” you said, “I never actually said it.”

Jake didn’t even need to ask what you were talking about.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, “you don’t have to.”

“I do.”

Your determination silenced him for a moment.

“I told you about that moment with Bob at the Hard deck,” you started to explain, your nervousness made evident by the quick flow of your words, “but that’s not when I actually understood. After that talk, I kept thinking and thinking… and Jesus, to think it took me this much time, gosh I sound stupid,— anyway, I truly realized it yesterday. I know you know that but I need to say it. When you were driving me home I was looking at you, and you had been so nice the whole evening and it felt so good and then in the car it just hit me, that I— I…”

You took in a deep breath.

“I love you, Jake.”

Jake never imagined that words could have such an impact on him. But those three little words alone almost made his knees buckled, and God knew all he asked was to be on his knees for you.

“Do you remember what you said you’d do when I finally tell you ?” You asked, eyes courageously boring into his, voice slightly breathless.

His breath hitched, lips quirking up.

Wordlessly, he leaned down and preened over seeing you meeting him halfway, lightly standing on your toes to avoid him bending down too much.

Finally, his lips met yours, in the most gentle of kisses. And it seemed as if tension left his body altogether at your contact.

Jake made a noise into your mouth, a mix of pure relief and desire for more. Instinctively, his hands came up to cup your face, deepening the kiss. Your lips moved together in a rhythm that felt strangely familiar, and Jake took it as a sign that you were simply meant to be.

Eventually, you both had to reluctantly pull apart, if only to catch your breath. Forehead against yours, thumbs rubbing your cheeks affectionately, Jake felt… fulfilled.

“I love you, Y/N.”

A giggle of pure giddiness escaped you and Jake couldn’t hold back from stealing another quick kiss from you.

“Do you want to go for a swim ?” You asked, smiling up at him, your arms coming up around his waist.

“We don’t have swimsuits.” He answered, the smile and love in his eyes never leaving as he gently brushed a strand of your hair back behind your ear.

“Does that really bother you ?”

Your smirk was downright mischievous and it made his stomach flip.

“Now that I think about it… not really, no.”

Laughing, you pecked him again. Grabbing his hand, you eagerly made your way out of the coffee shop, and to his car.

You both had the whole day ahead of you. Hell, Jake thought, you had the whole life ahead of you. And he couldn’t believe he finally got to share it with the one person he had dreamt about for the past four years. He watched you excitedly jump into this new chapter with him and it made his heart soar.

Yeah, it couldn’t really get much better than this.

Three weeks later, the squad burst through the Hard Deck doors like they owned the place, and at this point, some regulars were actually questioning if you guys owned shares in the bar.

“Alright,” Jake clapped his hands, “who’s up for pool ?”

“Geez can you give us a minute at least ? I don’t know, let us settle down,” Natasha complained.

“Yeah, hell no bro.” Mickey declined, “I’ve had enough of losing.”

“Same here,” Javy agreed.

“Don’t even bother asking me,” Bradley warned.

“Come on, Seresin, I’ll play with you.” You said, throwing a smirk his way that everyone interpreted as sheer arrogance.

“Gladly, sweetheart.”

On his way to the pool table, Jake clapped Bob on the shoulder, shooting him a bright, almost grateful smile.

Everyone felt deeply confused watching the two of you get ready to play.

“Am I fucking hallucinating ?” Reuben questioned.

“I think that time she got drunk permanently altered her brain and now she acts like his… friend ? That’s fucking weird.”

Bradley and Natasha eagerly nodded in agreement.

Bob was the only one harboring a small, knowing smile.

And the whole squad watched in awed disbelief….

As Jake let you win.

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Author’s note : okay this was never supposed to be this long😭 I feel like I genuinely talk too much, if that’s the case please let me know I’ll try to post shorter fics😭 I yap and yap and yap and all I do is yap😭

Also so sorry for how much time this took, I’ll definitely try to get back on a more regular posting schedule.

Hope you liked it as much as the first one, thanks again for your patience !💞💞

Tags : @football1921 @clintslittlebird @lilys136 @fandomlovver @fallout-girl219 @inmboeightyfour @i-wish-this-was-me @fortjackson @jackiehollanderr @crying-for-twenty-five-years

Here is everyone that asked to be tagged, I have also taken the liberty to tag people who asked for a part two but didn’t necessarily asked to be tagged, I hope that’s okay !! Thank you to all of you for the love you’ve shown the first part, I hope you’ll like this one just as much !!💞

[vienna-vivi]

Forever Stuck

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x reader

Summary: Bob brings his new girlfriend to meet everyone. You try to be happy for him. You really do. But your unresolved feelings make it impossible, and then jealousy comes and burns through any attempt at being happy for him.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, reader has some self-deprecating thoughts, Bob has a girlfriend, reader and Bob are good friends, morally ambiguous reader, reader is bad with feelings, reader wears lipgloss but no further gender description

A/N: My first time posting a fic on tumblr(honestly my first time posting a fic anywhere since I was 12 writing Loki fanfic on Wattpad). I’ve been obsessed with Bob since the movie came out and still haven’t moved on so I have to channel it somewhere. I wrote this while listening to Animals by Maroon 5, because I now relate that song to Bob after watching a Bob edit to it on repeat(by @ laurensfilms.aep on tiktok). Hope you enjoy<3

Word count: 1157

That girl. She’s pretty. Dark hair, dark eyes. Nice, too. So far, at least. You hadn’t listened much to what she had to say- unlike the others, who had suddenly turned perfectly polite. No snide remarks or mocking jokes or threats, just attentiveness like a perfectly normal family- but you’d picked up something about being a barista, and a degree in human services. Cute.

You watch her giggle and blush, smile and compliment. From the moment she walked in with her hand in his, a poisonous feeling had bubbled up inside you, twisting in your chest. She looked smitten. You’d expected that whole Oh he’s a superhero thing. More disconnected adoration than actual feelings. But she’d looked at him with genuine affection. She hadn’t asked for any autograph, but acted like any girl meeting the family. Shy, yes, but nice. The worst part, was that he’d looked back. Smiled at her, introduced her with that shy softness to his voice. You could hear the blush in his voice.

You had promised yourself to be nice. It was your fault, after all. You were the one that had hidden the feeling that always seemed to spark in Bob’s presence, or even when you just thought about him, those butterflies that seemed to go wild in your stomach and the warmth that tightened your chest. You had hidden the way he’d shown up in your dreams with gentle touches, intimate ones. You had torn away your gaze when it lingered and pulled away from his touch. You had ignored the way everyone seemed convinced he felt the same. Ignored the fact that part of you knew it too and avoided everything that might seem like proof to his reciprocation. Of course he had moved on.

And it’s not like the girl had done anything wrong. But instead of smiling, you’d just managed to barely contain a scowl. Instead of joining in on the question round, you’d sat quietly, glaring daggers trying to find anything wrong with her- to make yourself feel better, to get her the hell out of here- and failing while the feeling in your gut threatened to burn through your throat in mean words.

You should go. Should leave and go punch something. But he would know something’s wrong, they all would, and you’re trying to support him. He deserves this. Deserves to be happy. Deserves someone better than you. Someone like her. All of those very rational thoughts don’t seem to do anything in taming the thing clawing at your chest.

The conversation continues, and your eyes stay glued to them-to him-, sitting so close their shoulders brush. Alexei cracks a joke. Something stupid, familiar. But Bob's gaze doesn’t find yours like it so often did, there’s no look of familiarity that makes your chest flutter. He glances at her, sends her an almost apologetic look. She smiles at him, kind, unbothered by the chaos. She almost fits. The conversation turns, scatters into other things, but she’s still there. Sitting next to him, shoulders brushing. She nudges his thigh with her knee, leans closer, says something you don’t catch. He chuckles- that devastating sound that never fails to cut through every layer of armor and nestle its way into your heart-, but his eyes are on her. Not you. Her. And she smiles.

You get up abruptly, pushing yourself from the floor and leaving the room with large steps. You don’t glance back toward the group, just leave with your eyes glued to the floor. You can feel the corners of your eyes sting. You’re not sad. This isn’t heartbreak. You want to punch someone, you want to scream, you want to tear her beautiful dark hair from her scalp. You head straight for the training room, ready to channel your anger into assaulting a punching bag.

You miss Bob mumbling to excuse himself before you’ve even fully left the room. You miss the hurried steps following quickly behind until the door to the training room closes again only moments after you slammed it shut behind you.

You whirl around, fists clenched, to where Bob stands, ruinous worry in his gaze.

“Hey, what happened?”

You cross your arms, forcing back your burning tears, and shake your head. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“You just actually stormed out.” He comments, unconvinced.

“I don’t like her.”

“Kiara?” He frowns, although its more worried confusion.

You nod. “Yeah, I don’t like her.” You repeat for lack of an actual reason, gaze flicking away.

“Why not?” He asks. Theres no judgement in his voice, just genuine question.

You avoid his eye. Because of the embarrassment slowly burning through. For fear he might find everything there.

Anger bubbles up for the fact you can’t match his honesty. Not without laying your whole heart bare.

“I just don’t.” You deflect with an angry shrug. “She’s- She isn’t right for you.”

“What does that mean?” He’s still asking. Just asking, but there’s a sharp edge to his voice now.

“I don’t know. She just isn’t.”

“That isn’t a reason. What’s the actual reason?”

You can’t answer that. You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Fine! You know what? She’s perfect.” Your voice raises gradually. “She’s nice. Pretty, too. She’s good with people, obviously. She’s got a degree and.. she likes you. Like genuinely. She’s perfectly normal and- and perfect!”

“Fine! So what?" His voice is raised now too. He’s not yelling- he never does, even though you’re most definitely yelling at him now.

You finally look at him. There's no answer. There is one. You won’t admit it.

In one swift motion, you take a step forward and grab his face, pulling him toward you until your lips crash together.

You kiss him. Hard.

He’s leaning forward to bridge the distance between the two of you, hands hovering uselessly in the air.

A soft sound escapes him- surprise, need, satisfaction.

You pull back just as harshly, hands falling down to the crook of his neck on either side. There's a moment- like the world paused- where you both just stare, breathing hard.

His lips are swollen, a shine of your lipgloss on them, pupils blown and eyes wide in surprise, his cheeks a delicious shade of pink adorned with a few red spots where your fingers had dug into his skin. The sight makes you want to pull him in all over and not let go this time.

You pull away from him entirely, letting go of him and taking a step back.

You stare for another moment, your feet refusing to move, wiping at your smudged lipgloss with your thumb, your hand lingering there uselessly after, like you can still feel his lips on yours.

He’s standing perfectly still except for his chest rising and falling in heavy motions, stunned.

You tear away your gaze away before you let go of your common sense completely, walking past him out the door without another word.

[harddeckstories]

Pleasure Is No Shame - Part 3

Summary : After an eventful weekend, you dread getting to see Jake again. But he’s not letting you out of this conversation and the tension between you two reaches an all time high that finally implodes where it was always meant to, in the sheets.

Pairing : Jake "Hangman" Seresin × Fem!Reader

Important info : Your call sign is Lightning ⚡️:)

Disclaimer : English is not my first language so apologies for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading ! This is my first full on smut, keep in mind I literally never even held a guy’s hand before, so sorry for anything unrealistic concerning the smut💞

Word count : 18k

‼️‼️CONTENT WARNING : explicit, smut, porn with plot, oral (fem), handjob, safe sex, p in v penetration. MDNI.

Part one and part two :)

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Monday morning was bound to be awkward.

You weren’t sure if it was sheer, pure dread that was flowing through your veins or unfiltered excitement and wanting upon the idea of facing Jake after everything that had happened during the week end. And God a lot had happened in so little time.

Laying in your bed on Sunday night, you struggled to find sleep. Turning in your bed nonstop, you were trying to silence the whirlwind of thoughts going through your head. Heart beating like you had ran a marathon, you were hyper aware of every single thing going on in your body. The sensation of your covers on your skin, the way you could feel your — still — hard nipples poking through your pajama shirt, the phantom pulsing in your clit like it was still reeling from every sensation from the afternoon…

Feeling yourself get wet at the memory of the last few hours, you cursed yourself.

Truth be told, you hadn’t really expected Jake to still be on the phone when you woke up from your nap. But he had patiently waited for you, just like you’d asked.

“Shit, how long have I been out ?” You groggily asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Not too long, don’t worry,” came Jake’s voice, calm as ever, “thirty minutes, something like that.”

A silence stretched out. And it seemed as if your earlier words were still hanging in the air ‘I’d like to go again after, if you want that as well’, waiting to be acted upon, and there was nothing you wanted more in this moment than that. Would you be able to express it as clearly, though ? You wondered if Jake would—

“So,” he began, and really you should’ve guessed he would be the first one to bring it up, “do you still want to ‘go again’ ?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he used your earlier words.

He took your second of silence for hesitation, and he took on a more serious tone when he added, “That’s totally okay if you don’t want to anymore, say the word and I’ll hang up.”

“No not at all !” You reassured immediately, cursing yourself for still struggling to get the words out, even after what you had just done with him. “Yes, I want to, sorry this is— I’m akward sorry, I’m not really used to this.” Cringing at your own words you wished there was a for you to feel even an ounce of Jake’s shamelessness and demonstrate his easy going attitude.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll teach you.”

You refrained the urge to muffle a scream in your pillow at his words, you never knew it was possible for a man to have this effect over you. And yet here you were. Heart thumping violently in your chest to the sound of his breathing, blood already traveling south to the sound of his voice, and brain conjuring the wildest and filthiest fantasy, all including him teaching you various things in various but oh so delicious scenarios.

Slipping a hand between your thighs, which were slightly sticky from your earlier release, you let out shaky breath that expressed, louder than any words could, the excitement pumping in your veins. “Teach me then.”

You swore you could have heard his smile through the phone.

That evening had passed in a blur of moans, mind numbing pleasure, gasped breaths, shaky limbs and so much talking.

From Jake, who had instructed your every movement, from the slightest run of your fingertips down the thin skin on your neck, to the swift passes of your hand on the most sensitive part of you. Had soothed every once of nervousness you had felt linger at some moments. Had expressed every filthy fantasy he’s had about you, worshiped your body verbally, his words had painted you as a goddess you never thought someone could picture you as.

To you who had spilled every thought going through your head, without any barrier left. To his every command, you had responded between strings of pleasured gasps how good he was making you feel, how hot he sounded, how you wished he could be there with you, how you wished you could see him. It’d been like your thoughts were slippery, slipping right from the unreal and unspoken part of your mind to express themselves out loud in the open.

You usually were quiet during sex, never having any reason to voice your pleasure because you didn’t feel any. But it was like Jake had awaken something in you, cracked your soul open and you were begging for more.

By the time the sun had set, hiding behind the western sky to give place to the half lit moon and the stars, you had came three times, and after your third orgasm, the endorphins and adrenaline had completely drained the energy out of your satiated body. Leaving you a floaty mess.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart.” Jake’s fond — and slightly hoarse from moaning your name — voice came through to your ears, “we have to get up early tomorrow.”

That had been it, you’d hanged up after that.

Being left with your own thoughts after having Jake’s voice in your ears for so long felt strange, like a melody you felt nostalgic of.

After long minutes of debating it, you opted for taking a shower, deciding that the evidence of your pleasure sticking to your thighs wouldn’t be a pleasurable sensation throughout the night. The hot water felt nice cascading on your still sensitive skin, a small smile stretching your lips at the reminiscence of everything you had just done.

Getting out of the shower, you caught your reflection in the body length mirror in the corner of your bathroom. For the first time in a long time, you took the time to look at yourself, really look. And warmth filled your stomach as you remembered everything Jake had said. He hadn’t left a single part of your body un-praised, a body he only ever saw covered, but it hadn’t stopped him from worshipping it from the other end of the line. A wave of self-confidence hit you then, you felt good in your body, in your skin, you felt good being you.

Slipping underneath your covers after putting on your pajamas, you would have thought that sleep would have came easy, muscles and mind relaxed from your three releases, but you wouldn’t be yourself if everything was so easy.

That’s how you ended up lying wide awake in your bed on Sunday night, with one persisting thought taking your brain hostage.

Monday morning was bound to be awkward.

The thought was eating you alive. You had spent the entirety of your Sunday evening and half of the night masturbating with the man you called your arch-nemesis guiding you over the phone, how were you supposed to act ? Were you supposed to just pretend nothing happened, insult him like usual ? Or did everything you did implicitly and inevitably changed the course of your relationship ?

All those questions were enough to make you dizzy. And before you realised it, you heard the graving sound of your alarm clock ringing.

Fuck.

You had barely gotten any sleep, and when you had successfully managed to close your eyes for a few moments, your dreams were filled with Jake, plaguing your mind. Inserting himself in every crevice of your brain, settling with no intention of ever leaving.

The drive over to base was the closest thing you could imagine to hell. Your palms were sweaty against the wheel which you were gripping like a vice. Heart beating so hard against your rib cage you felt like it was trying to get out of your chest. Never had you been this stressed ever since your first solo flight in a F/A-18.

Parking on the base’s lot, you waited a few minutes to get out. Mentally giving yourself a pep talk, and it gave you this weird déjà-vu impression, reminded you of when you had stood in front of the sex shop only a few days before, not knowing that you had probably changed the course of your life when passing the threshold.

Taking a deep breath, you finally opened your car door. Deciding that if you didn’t get out now, there was a high chance you’d never do it. Swigging your bag over one shoulder, you made your way to the base entrance.

After flashing your military I.D to the personnel out front, you made a beeline for the locker room, hoping you could be quick and then make a run for the briefing room where you’d pretend to have a hundred questions for Maverick. Surely, that would avoid any awkward interactions, wouldn’t it ?

As you pushed open the locker room’s door, you couldn’t contained the relived sigh that left your lips when you noticed it was empty.

Going for your locker, which was hiding in the left corner of the room, you hastily began to put all your stuff away when the creaking of the door made you jump—

“Y/N !” An excited squeal came behind you, and before you even had time to understand what was happening, Natasha had slung an arm over your shoulder, bringing you close to her. “How was your weekend ?”

The smirk stretching her lips and the mischievous twinkle in her eyes made you freeze, did she know something…? Had Jake told her something ?!

“I- I mean yeah it was good, like a normal week end, you know,” you tried to keep your voice steady while avoiding her gaze by rummaging through your locker, “why do you ask ?”

“Did you not go to the sex shop ?” She asked in a too loud voice right as the door swung open, revealing Reuben and Mickey who could not contain a snicker at Natasha’s words.

“Well good morning to you too, ladies.” Reuben grinned.

You merely flipped him off, thinking that they would make their way over to their lockers on the opposite side of the room, which were hidden from your view by a row of lockers, but they stayed right there, staring at the two of you.

“Well, Lightning, are you not gonna tell us if you went to the sex shop ?” Mickey inquired with a raised brow and the start of a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Fuck you.”

“Alright, get going now, this a private conversation,” Natasha shooed them away with a movement of her hand.

They just giggled like middle school boys before making their way to their lockers, leaving the two of you a semblance of privacy. Natasha lowered her voice when she spoke again.

“Well ? Did you go ?”

Finally looking into her eyes, you were torn between confessing everything, or telling her only part of the truth. It only took you a few seconds to decide that you did not want to deal with the interrogation that would follow if you did tell her everything, especially not on a Monday morning minutes before pre-flight briefing. And you desperately tried to silence the voice in your head telling you the true reason you were so reluctant to tell her was that you liked knowing this was something you only shared with Jake, liked the privacy of it. Those moments you shared this week end were well and entirely yours.

“Yeah, I did.” You simply answered, hoping that she wouldn’t catch your half lie like she usually so easily does.

Natasha just stared at you, visibly waiting.

“Okay ? Why are you withholding crucial information ?” She jokingly complained, slightly shaking your arm, “come on tell me, what did you buy ? Vibe ? Clit sucker ? Oh my god—!” She suddenly gasped, “did you buy a dildo ??”

You swore you heard Reuben and Mickey giggle from the other side of the room.

“Nat, what the hell ? Lower your voice, oh my god.” You mumbled, cheeks flushed.

Natasha all but snickered, raising her hands in mock defense.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But you need to tell me, you owe it to me.”

Raising a playful, inquiring brow at her, you refrained from asking her in what way exactly you owed it to her to tell her what kind of sex toy you’d bought.

“I… I bought a vibrator.”

“And…? Oh my god, Y/N why are you so secretive ?”

“What do you even want to know ?” You chuckled, still pretending to look for something non-existent in your locker, just to keep your hands busy.

“Was it good ? Did you cum ? Did you squ—“

You slapped a hand over Natasha’s mouth to keep her from saying any more as you let out an incredulous laugh.

“What the actual fuck, Nat ?” You laughed, “I didn’t know you were so interested in how I touch myself.”

She just stared you, putting on a mock empathetic face as she removed your hand from her face.

“I’m worried about you that’s all, ever since you told me you couldn’t feel any pleasure at all I’ve been thinking of ways to help you. I’m just a good friend, looking out for my girl, you know—“

But as Natasha continued to ramble, your blood suddenly ran cold. Coming from the corridor, and inevitably approaching the locker room door, you heard three booming voices.

Bradley, unmistakably. Deep and raspy voice, probably complaining about a problem on his Bronco.

Javy, then. Joyous laugh echoing down the hallway.

And… fuck.

Jake.

His smooth and rich tone reached your ears, the sound of a smirk evident in his voice, and you weren’t sure if the butterflies who had took off like Super Hornets in your stomach were from arousal, excitement or sheer stress. Maybe it was all three at the same time.

Physically feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the impending knowledge that he would open the door in a few seconds, you prayed, pleaded to any gods above who would deigned to hear you that Jake would be too engrossed in whatever conversation he was having to notice you standing at your locker in the far left corner.

The voices kept creeping closer, your heart was beating sporadically to the sounds of their footsteps approaching.

“Your car is a piece of junk.” Javy’s voice boomed as the door swung open so violently it hit the row of lockers on its side.

Bradley scoffed, “excuse me, have you seen your car ? You couldn’t pay me to set foot in that piece of shit. Probably would start falling apart the second more than one people sits down.”

Unable to resist the urge to turn around despite the knot in your stomach, you saw Javy and Bradley walk through the door, the latter only being wide enough for them two. Jake followed behind them, and you could only guess that all your prayers had fallen into deaf ears. Jake’s eyes were already staring right at you when he walked in. Like before he even walked through the door, his gaze had been directed into your locker’s direction, prepared to check if you’d be there.

Your eyes locked, and you felt a surge of longing take your heart hostage. A weird and unfamiliar feeling of wanting to go up to him, greet him with an embrace like what you had both done this week end meant something.

The look on his face didn’t help the sudden yearning you got hit with. A small, almost bashful smile lifted the corner of his lips, and where you had expected a teasing twinkle in his eyes, you only found a burning that seemed like a reflection of the fire setting ablaze under your skin.

“Hellooo ? Y/N, are you even listening to me ?” Natasha’s whiny voice yanked you out of your trance, and you reluctantly tore your eyes away from Jake’s green ones as he was walking towards his locker, a few rows away from yours.

Looking at her, you offered her a small, apologetic smile, “sorry, got lost in thought for a second.” At least, you could console yourself in saying that this one wasn’t totally a lie.

All of a sudden, Natasha seemed to be hit with a dawning realization.

“Wait, fuck, what time is it ?” She asked urgently, looking for her phone in her flight suit pockets.

You looked down at your watch, “six forty five, why ? Is everything okay ?”

Her eyes widened before she started to hastily put all her stuff in her locker. Quickly grabbing her helmet bag, flying boots and glove, “I had a meeting with Cyclone at six forty, shit he’s gonna kill me.” She made a run for the door while calling back to you. “I’ll see you in the air ! And this conversation is not over !”

And as you laughed at her urgency and the screaming she’d probably get from Cyclone, you suddenly realised that everyone was following behind her. Not as panicked as her, but they all had their gear in hand and were heading to the briefing room.

Realizing that in your attempts at deflecting Natasha’s interrogation, you hadn’t prepared anything, you were now the one being late. Gathering everything as quickly as possible, you tried not to think about how you’d laughed at Natasha only seconds before only to end up in the same position as her. The gods didn’t listen to your desperate pleads about Jake but they sure as hell made sure you got your karma back.

Cursing, you tried to pick up everything and pile it up in your arms, your helmet bag, your g-suit, your harness… and you refrained from letting a scream of frustration when you saw your pair of gloves slide from the top of your helmet bag to fall pathetically in the ground.

“For fuck’s sake,” you whispered angrily, “this shit only ever happens when I’m late.” You hissed, trying to find a way to bend down without having to let go of everything you were holding.

Your helmet almost went crashing on the ground but you caught it at the last minute, you closed your eyes for a moment then, taking a deep breath to calm the sheer frustration bubbling in your throat.

“Yeah, that tends to happen unfortunately.”

Jake’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, opening your eyes you saw him standing only a meter away from you, holding your pair of gloves.

“Jesus Christ, Hangman ! You scared the shit out of me !”

“Hangman ? Have I already lost my first name privileges ?” He smirked, quickly eyeing you up and down.

Pausing for a moment, you didn’t even register his words, your attention focused on the fact that despite the little plan you had made up in your head, you still ended up alone with him.

“What ?” Was all you were able to get out as you felt your palms sweat where they were holding your g-suit and helmet bag.

Fuck, you couldn’t believe you had actually ended up in this situation. Had your prayers been heard by demons instead of the intended gods ?

“You were calling me ‘Jake’ just a few hours ago, what changed ?”

It was only when the initial shock and panic wore off a bit that you were able to truly register what he had said. The implication behind his words made heat rush to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for reacting in such an obvious way. You knew he would make references to Sunday night, he wouldn’t be Hangman if he didn’t, and it infuriated you to still feel your whole body and nervous system react even though you were prepared for his remarks.

“We have to go, we’re already late for briefing.” You simply said, hoping that the idea of being late, which Jake always referred to as ‘slacking off’, would deter him from teasing you.

“Oh please, ever since he started sleeping at Penny’s everyday, Maverick is always late. He still probably hasn’t left her place yet. I’d say we still have about,” he checked his watch before looking back up to you with a grin, “a good fifteen minutes, plenty of time to talk.”

Your breath caught on an inhale, eyes darting down on your helmet bag and catching on a loose string, anything to avoid looking in his emerald gaze, “what do you want to talk about ?” You asked slowly, knowing there was no way out of this conversation, but still trying to delay it as much as possible.

You wished you were able to understand what made you like that. It was like, with every breakthrough you had made with Jake, at the sex shop, and then on the phone, you eventually had to take three steps back, every time. Why were you putting up such a fight ?

Jake paused, looking at you with a raised brow.

“Really, Y/N ? I honestly can’t say I’m surprised, I was actually expecting it but still, I had some faith in you.”

A silence stretched out, not knowing what to respond, you simply continued to look at the unstitched string on your helmet bag. The whirlwind of emotion inside of you had touched down in your chest like a tornado and was rummaging through your entire body. Torn between keeping up with the denial facade, pushing him away with a harsh remark like you were so used to do, or face the truth that had been simmering for a long time, long before the sex shop, long before you allowed yourself to acknowledge this weird feeling you got whenever you looked at Jake. A feeling you had always classified as loathing, but the events of the last few days had totally turned your perspective upside down and you didn’t even know which way was up anymore. The only constant remained him.

“Just tell me one thing, do you regret it ?” Jake’s sudden serious tone made you look up to him.

His jade green eyes suddenly held a grave air to them as he looked at you. Before you could say anything, he added, “if you do, tell me, and I’ll never talk about this again. Promise.”

You didn’t like the look on his face. Didn’t like him saying that if you gave him the word, you’d both just pretend nothing ever happened. Didn’t like the way his eyes held uncertainty as they gazed at you, when only days ago they had been full of something fond you still couldn’t quite name.

Perhaps the desire of seeing that look again was what prompted you to speak up.

“No !” The volume of your voice startled the both of you, cringing you brought your voice down. “Sorry, I— No I don’t regret it.”

Relief washed over you when you noticed the grave look leave his face as he let out a chuckle at your reaction.

“Is there something you want to do about it ?”

Your heart leaped at the question.

“What do you mean ?”

“Do you want what happened this week end to change something between us, or would you like for this,” he gestured between the two of you, “to stay the way it’s always been.”

The care in his voice and the fact that he was voicing the concern, letting you choose, made your heart clench.

“What do you want ?” You asked, bracing for whatever his answer would be.

“Doesn’t matter what I want.” He lightly smiled at you.

You frowned, of all the responses you had anticipated, this for sure wasn’t one of them, “the hell does that mean ? Yes it does matter.”

A flash of something you couldn’t decipher passed in his emerald irises, and your heart skipped a beat when he took one slow step towards you.

“Alright, You really wanna know ?”

Throat too tied up to speak, you simply nodded, body buzzing with anticipation at his next words.

“There is nothing I want more right now than to ditch the morning flight to bring you back to my place and make love to you like I have been fucking dreaming of for months.”

You could only imagine the look on your face, perhaps Jake would have laughed at it if he wasn’t so busy pouring out his undying and uncontrollable desire for you. Your brain was stuck on a specific way he expressed himself, ‘make love’. You only had ever heard guys talk about ‘fucking’, which was usually followed by descriptions of what they wanted to do to a girl and it has always repulsed you. You guessed you could qualify your rare hook ups as ‘fucks’, very, very lame fucks. But Jake, he had said ‘make love’. Like he’d take his time, discover every single inch of your body, take care of you like you had silently been pleading for so long… ‘make love’. It was rising your body temperature to levels you hadn’t thought possible. Eyes trained on him, he looked ethereal. The white, clinical light of the locker room you absolutely despised and made sure every one knew it whenever you could complain about it, was somehow drawing a halo around him as he was standing directly under it. You didn’t know anyone could look this good under this shitty excuse of a light. And suddenly you got hit with a dizzying realisation.

You had always beheld much disdain for all the women fawning over Jake, even more when they had the audacity to compare him with a Greek god. But right now, in this light, you wondered how you could have ever seen a devil sent to lure in him. Jake looked ready to worship the very ground you stood on, even if that ground was the dirty floor of the locker room on a Monday morning.

“For months, God maybe even longer than that, I have been fantasying about what you’d sound like, look like, taste like,” he inhaled sharply, “yesterday I got a glimpse of all of it, and it wasn’t enough. Truly I don’t think anything will ever be enough when it comes to you, but I— I want you. All of you, in every and any way you’ll let me.”

Knees almost buckling with the tsunami of desire and overwhelming feeling that crashed into you, you did your best to show nothing of it, only taking a shaky breath. His words felt like everything you had been dying to hear from him.

“Now question is, what do you want ?” He asked, eyes boring into yours, caging you in this moment, needing your response like a breath of oxygen after being stuck under water for a too long.

Looking at him, words were stuck in your throat and a whirlwind of emotion passed through you at being unable to express yourself. Why was it that it was so hard for you to simply say your feelings out loud ? What was stopping you ? What was this vice wrapped around your heart, extending out its vines to squeeze around your throat ? Why was it only when your mind was drowning into the waves of pleasure that you were finally able to let the words pour out of your mouth ? Why were you like this ?

Facing your silence, Jake stood before you, waiting, and for a moment you were terrified that he would leave, tired of seeing you unable to just get over your silly inhibitions and that you would be incapable of even telling him not to go.

But Jake did none of that. Instead, he took one more step towards you.

“Y/N,” he began, voice gentle but somehow laced with a firm tone, like he wanted his next words to imprint into your mind, “I know I have already told you this, but I feel like this is something you can’t hear enough.” Gently, he took your g-suit from your arms, “Pleasure is not a shame, wanting to feel pleasure is not shameful, in any way.” He lifted your harness and lightly threw it right above his own on his shoulder, “It’s human, it’s normal to feel that way. Normal to feel desire for someone, it’s not shameful if you want someone.”

He paused and took your helmet bag, leaving your arms empty.

“It’s not shameful if you want me.”

And suddenly, It was like the world shifted on its axis. With every word he had said, it was like he’d given you a breath of fresh air from the box you caged yourself in. And with every gear he had taken from you, it was like he had freed you from every burden, every inhibition, every fear you ever had.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I—“

Jake’s eyes filled with hope as he looked expectantly at you.

“I want everything you said, Jake. I want— I want you. All of you.”

It felt like the world had been lifted of your shoulders, your heart was beating frenetically against your rib cage but it didn’t hurt like before. It felt new, exciting, good.

Jake broke out into the most genuine small you had ever been given to see, small crinkles forming around his emerald eyes.

“Yeah ?” He asked, breathless.

“Yeah, sorry it took me so long.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded just a tiny bit choked up.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re here now.”

Trying not to swoon over the nickname, and how different it was hearing it on the phone and having him say it to your face, you offered him a small smile.

“Alright, so” you cleared your throat, “where do we go from here ?”

Jake looked at you, genuine smile morphing into a mischievous one. He was still holding all of his gears in addition to yours and you thought funny how on you it looked like you were about to fall from holding everything but he looked steady. Like the combination of both your equipments was as light as a feather for him.

He took another step towards you, crowding your space in the best way possible, bending down lightly, his voice came out as a low whisper.

“Well, first, how about we—“

“Hey what the fuck are you guys— Wow.” Bradley’s voice came booming and then abruptly stopped.

He stood there, eyes bulging out of their sockets, jaw hanging open as he looked at Jake and you being so impossibly close.

His eyes comically went from you to Jake. And then to you again. His mouth opened, then closed, looking like a fish out of water.

Jake just straightened back up, a smirk pulling at his rosy lips.

“Are you alright, Bradshaw ?”

Bradley turned to you once again and noticed your crimson cheeks and how you had took a step back from Jake. He broke out in a small laugh, passing a hand through his hair.

“Well I guess it was only a matter of time. Alright you two will get a room later, get your asses back there, we’ve been waiting on you, and Mav is not happy.”

Jake and Bradley shared a laugh, while you looked at your mustached friend, deeply confused.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it was only a matter of time’ ??”

Bradley stared at you with a raised brow, a grin dancing on his lips.

“Come on, Y/N. Everyone knew you’d jump his bones eventually, we just didn’t know when.”

Had everyone been aware of your feelings this whole time, while you were completely unable to acknowledge them, not even daring to admit it in thoughts ?

But today marked the start of a new era you thought, and it felt great.

“So yeah congratulations and all that, now fucking hurry up lovebirds or Mav will have us run laps.” Bradley declared, clapping in his hands twice before disappearing out the door.

Jake looked back at you, and bent down to leave a sweet kiss on your cheek. You felt your whole body ignite at the feeling of his lightly wet lips — from him licking them only seconds prior — settling briefly and gently on your cheek. You found yourself disappointed when his mouth left your skin, craving more of him. But he didn’t pull back immediately, he stopped right at your ear where you could his hot breath fanning over you.

“Let’s get today over with, and tonight ? I’ll get you home and eat your pussy like I’ve been fucking dying to. And after that I’ll have you crying on my cock, how does that sound, sweet girl ?”

You let out an involuntary whimper, not ready for the contrast between the gentle kiss on your cheek and the dirtiness of his words. But what sweet words they were though. Jake pulled back, searching your eyes and smiled even wider when he saw your expression. Half lidded eyes which conveyed a far away look, pupils dilated, mouth slightly open.

“What do you say, mmh ?” He prompted again.

“Yes, I’d like that very much.” You agreed, voice breathless, and already wondering how the hell were you supposed to hold out for ten hours.

Jake seemed just fine as he straightened up, “alright, let’s go then.”

And with that he started to walk towards the briefing room, still carrying all your gear.

The day had been close to what you imagined hell was like. It turned out that piloting a Super Hornet was not as easy when anticipation and permanent arousal was sizzling under your skin. Thankfully, you made it back in the ground alive. But Jake ? He had no intention of making this easy for you.

He kept whispering teasing words to you in passing.

“You did good up there, sweetheart. It was hot hearing you command me like that,” when you got out of your jet after the morning flight where Jake had acted as your wingman.

“Fuck, you smell good.” A groan when you passed him on your way to your debrief with Maverick. You hadn’t even found the words to tell him you probably stank after all the G’s you had pulled in the air.

At lunch, he sat across from you as Bradley threw you a knowing and amused glance.

You thought that maybe, considering the fact that you were surrounded by the squad, Jake wouldn’t dare to do anything. But now you realized that was pretty stupid of you to think.

Talking to Natasha who was seating on your right, you felt Jake’s foot nudge yours under the table. You only spared him a glance, thinking it might had been an accident. Returning to your conversation with Nat, you almost choked on your bite of broccoli when you felt his foot oh so slowly go up your calf.

“You good ?” Natasha asked you, lightly clapping on your back.

Coughing behind your fist, you prayed to God, though at this point you thought he wasn’t really on your team, that you could pretend the redness on your cheeks came from almost choking to death.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

After making sure you were indeed alright, Natasha continued to go on about how disappointing dating apps were, but your mind had already gone to the moment where you’d finally be alone with Jake again. His foot was still rubbing your leg under the table, going just a tiny bit higher everytime. You had to fight back any embarrassing sounds when his boot reached the top of your knee, brushing your thigh.

The worst part ?

When your eyes quickly flashed towards him, he looked absolutely unaffected, talking to Javy as though he wasn’t subjecting you to sexual torture right under the table.

You didn’t think that during all your time spent on planet Earth, you had ever been so turned on. You thought that being on the phone yesterday would be the sexual highlight of your life, a pinnacle you resigned yourself to never feel again. But you were apparently reaching new heights, and you were counting down the minutes, hell even the seconds until you could finally go home, and let Jake take care of your body and mind like you had silently, and unknowingly been begging for.

Reviewing your flight routes and preparing a simulation for the next morning was impossible. Everyone was spread out in the mission planning room, focused on their own monitor, but your mind was plagued with Jake. Bouncing your knee up and down, you willed yourself to focus. But it was hard when Jake was only two monitors away from you and kept sparing heated glances at you, a small smirk always dancing on his lips like he was revealing in the effect he was having on you.

The squad kept quietly working all the while you were slowly losing your mind. You had managed to draw out a flight route for your sim, though it was half assed and you were sure to get a remark from Maverick, but it was the last of your problems at the moment.

You looked at the clock displayed on your monitor, four fifty seven.

Oh my god.

Mindlessly moving your mouse around and pretending to work, your knee continued to bounce rather loudly in the quiet room. You turned to discreetly look at Jake, only to discover he was already looking at you. He threw you a wink that sent your entire nervous system reeling as you desperately tried to hold back a sound.

Four fifty nine.

You took a deep breath, eyes locked on the clock.

Four fifty nine.

Four fifty nine..

Four fifty nine…

Five !

You got up abruptly, chair scraping on the floor and startling everyone.

“Jesus Christ, Lightning !” Mickey exclaimed, “what’s happening, you have a flight to catch ?” He joked when you made your way to the door to leave.

“I have things to do !” You exclaimed, throwing what you hoped was a pointed and discreet look at Jake, which he bit his lower lip at.

Everyone seemed confused by your behavior, even more so when Jake got up as well, waving everyone off.

Bradley let out a chuckle, “be safe kids !” he called out after him, which only got him a raised middle finger from Jake.

But you heard none of the banter, your ears only picking up the sound of Jake’s heavy boots following behind you in the hallway. Walking comically fast, you burst through the door of the locker room, Jake opening it only seconds after you.

“Are you alright, sweetheart ? Fanboy was right, you do seem to be in a bit of a hurry.” He gave you a false confused look.

The arousal pumping in your veins seemed to give you a surge of courage as you stepped closer to him, almost coming chest to chest with him. You had to tilt your head up to look at him.

“Kiss me,” you breathed out, entire body burning at the idea of finally feeling his lips on yours after only ever imagining the sensation for so long.

“No.”

“Wait, what ?”

“There is absolutely no way our first kiss is happening in this disgusting locker room that smells like Bradshaw’s awful Axe deodorant.”

You let out a chuckle, Jake smiled down fondly at you as he bent down to leave a kiss on your jaw, just beneath your ear. His lips lingered there, and you felt the tip of his tongue lightly brush your skin. Your knees almost buckled, the sensation of it all almost felt overwhelming after a grueling day of anticipation. Your hand shot out to grip his arm as you let out a little pleasured sigh.

When Jake pulled back, his eyes were half lidded and glazed over, a look that made your core physically throb.

“Your place or mine ?” He questioned.

“My place,” you immediately said, feeling like you’d be more comfortable in your own home for this very special moment.

He nodded.

“Get your stuff, baby.”

You both got your bags from your lockers. Jake immediately took your hand in his and you walked down the long hallways on base to make it out in record time.

You both quickly passed your car on the parking lot to get to Jake’s truck, he opened the door for you and somehow this awfully gentlemanly behavior sent more heat down your core. You were so doomed. You grabbed your seatbelt with slightly shaky hands from sheer desire as Jake was settling in the driver’s seat. He spared you a glance, his pupils dilated so much it was almost hiding the beautiful green of his eyes. Jake gently grabbed your wrist and brought it to his lips, leaving a heated kiss right on top of your pulse.

“Jake…” your voice came out in breathless exhale, almost turning into a moan.

But Jake didn’t stop at one kiss. His lips kept moving all around the inside of your wrist, and this rather innocent touch made you squeeze your thighs in a desperate attempt to relieve the unbearable tension between your legs. He made a sound in the back of his throat resembling a groan.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he heaved, sniffing lightly the inside of your wrist. “Okay, we really need to go, otherwise I’m taking you in the backseat.”

You only nodded, not trusting anything that could come out of your mouth right now to be anything other than an embarrassing moan. Starting the car, Jake made his way out of the parking lot and started driving towards your apartment. When he merged onto the freeway, one of his hand left the wheel to rest on your thigh, and you almost jolted at the unexpected contact. His thumb was lovingly rubbing your clothed skin as he squeezed your thigh every once in a while. You were avoiding to look at him at all costs, staring out of the window and praying for this ride to go by fast so that he could properly put his hands on you. When Jake parked in your building parking lot, you both almost ran out of the car, not even bothering to get your stuff out. The elevator ride up to your floor was torture, and thank god it was empty. Jake was heavy breathing behind you, his hands on your shoulders, desperate to have some sort of physical contact with you. And you were not doing much better.

Opening your door proved to be a challenge, your hands were shaking as you tried to put the key inside the keyhole.

“Sorry, I— oh shit—“ you mumbled when the keys fell from your hand to clatter on the floor with a sharp noise.

“It’s okay.” Jake’s familiar reassuring voice hit your ears, but it was laced with lust, “you nervous, baby ?”

“A little.” You whispered truthfully as you bent down to get your keys.

Right as you bent down, your ass bumped into Jake as he was standing impossibly close to you. You were about to apologize, when you felt something hard against your backside that immediately made you straightened back up and turn around to face him. He let out a small chuckle at the expression on your face.

“Surprised ?” He asked, voice having dropped an octave since he last spoke.

You just looked at him, unable to say anything even if you wanted to. His face was only centimeters away from yours, the height difference had him slightly look down at you. His gaze felt like a burning touch, pupils so dilated you could barely see the beautiful emerald of his eyes. Gently, and without ever breaking eye contact, he took the keys from your hand, his arm went behind you and fumbled with the door for a second before opening it.

The sound of the door opening sounded like freeing bells. With, somehow, a controlled hurriedness, Jake put his hands on your hips to push you inside, and slammed the door shut behind him with his foot. After that, it all happened so fast it almost made you dizzy.

Still holding your hips to maneuver you, he — with a gentleness and a carefulness that alone made you throb — spun you around to pin you against the door, watching out for your head. And before you could even think about saying anything, or uttering a sound that would had probably been one of pure delight—

Jake’s lips collided with yours. A surprised noise left you before it turned into a moan.

His lips moved against yours with an hunger that made your stomach churn in the best way possible. He faintly tasted like those sour candies he sometimes bought from the ready room dispenser machine, and something so undeniably him that you wouldn’t be able to describe even with all the words and the will in the world. You never knew kissing could feel this good. He felt perfect.

His hands gripped your hips a bit tighter as he let out a low moan into your mouth, having you immediately moan in return. starting to feel a bit dizzy from the whirlwind of sensation running in your veins, you reluctantly broke the kiss to breathe.

Jake’s eyes were trained on your lips as he licked his own, like was trying to catch every little taste of you. If you had been throbbing all day, you could practically feel yourself leaking into your panties now. You wanted him, needed him to touch you. And just as you were about to voice that burning need, Jake reclaimed your lips. His tongue lightly brushed your bottom one, and your heart raced when you understood what he was silently asking, you opened your mouth a bit more to let him in. His tongue was almost shy at first as it brushed yours, but he quickly became eager and started licking into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours, almost desperate to not let a drop of your taste go to waste.

Your hands, which had been helplessly and awkwardly staying still on each side of your body, suddenly had the urge to grip him. Tentatively, you slid your hands on his hips, giving them a gentle, experimental squeeze. The groan Jake let out into your mouth reverberated in your entire body. Feeling empowered by his reaction, with a bit more force, you made his hips buck up into yours, the weight of his cock standing at full attention in his flight suit met your burning, aching core through the fabric of yours. The friction felt delicious.

“Fuck, baby,” Jake moaned, pulling away from the kiss, a thin string of spit connecting your mouths “Where is your room ?”

You whined as he broke the kiss, trying to chase his lips, his question having not even registered in your mind as you were trying to grind against him and feel fore of his cock on you. Jake let out a husky chuckle, cupping your face so you’d look him in the eyes.

“Sweet girl, where is your room ?”

The nickname brought you right back, and the implication of his words and what was to come almost had your knees bucking.

“It’s—“ you inhaled sharply, finding yourself comically out of breath, “Down the hall on the— the left.”

Your hands were still gripping his hips, his lustful emerald eyes looking down at you and the small, pleased smile dancing on his swollen lips from your kisses were not helping the situation. Moving away from where your back was up against the wall, Jake began to walk you backwards towards your room, lips claiming yours again, like he couldn’t bear to to not taste you for too long. But the tension in your core was radiating in your entire body, and your legs were genuinely starting to get weak, so much so that while Jake was backing you up, you almost tripped on your own feet, but he immediately caught you.

“Aww, you weak in the knees, sweetheart ?” He asked in a cooing, husky voice. His accent had gotten thicker.

Unable to maintain his gaze any longer, you buried your head in his neck, letting out a pathetic little whimper.

“It’s alright, baby, ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

Suddenly you felt his hands travel to the back of your thighs, and without any warning, you found yourself up in the air. Instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled back from his neck to look at him, absolutely stunned from the way he seemed to be holding you up so effortlessly.

Jake let out a husky chuckle at the look on your face and his hands — which had traveled from the back of your thighs to your ass — gave your plump flesh an affectionate squeeze.

“Jake. My room. Right now.” You urged, feeling like your body would catch fire any second now.

“It’s so hot having you command me like that,” he rasped, half lidded eyes fixed on you as he began walking with ease, despite holding you, towards your room.

No longer able to hold back in front of his unfair and frankly erotic display of strength, you buried your head in his neck once again, inhaling his scent, he smelled like jet fuel, the dirty fabric of his flight suit and sweat, and yet you didn’t think you had ever smelled anything better. Your tongue poked out on its own, licking the side of his neck up to his jaw, which made Jake inhale sharply.

Finally he pushed the door of your room open, and with a gentleness you didn’t think was possible he set you up on the bed, while his eyes quickly took in your room. And you physically saw his green irises darken.

“So that’s where you touched yourself to the sound of my voice, hmm ?” He questioned, teasing and smug while his mouth went straight for your neck, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. “Begged me to talk you through it, rubbed your little clit like a good girl and soaked your sheets while I told you how I fuck my fist to the thought of eating you out ?”

His hands had also started to wander, feeling your waits through your flight suit, cupping and squeezing your breast through the thick fabric while you could only moan helplessly.

“Jake, please, take my suit off.”

“Patience, sweet girl. I thought we had already established that your problem was that you didn’t take your time. Always rushing into things…” he tsked into your neck, “but I’m gonna take my time with you. I’ve been waiting for this moment too damn long to rush anything.”

He pulled out to look at you, smiling and biting his bottom lip at the look on your face. Red in the face, lips still slightly swollen and glossy from your earlier make out session, chest rising fast with the rhythm of your frenetic breathing, pupils completely drowning out your irises as you looked at him like a woman dying of thirst in the desert would look at an oasis.

“Should I tell you what I have in mind for you ?”

You nodded vigorously.

“First I’m going to kiss all over your gorgeous fucking body, I can’t fucking wait to see you bare and get my mouth on your tits.” His hands illustrated his words by giving a squeeze to your chest that you felt travel down all the way to your clit, which was painfully swollen in the confines of your panties.

“Then,” he continued, “I’m going to eat you out, baby, bury my tongue in your pussy and you’re gonna feel so, so good. I’ll make you cum once or twice, haven’t really made up my mind yet.”

Absorbed by the imagery he was painting you, you tried to squeeze your legs together but you only squeezed Jake who was between them, and he hummed, seemingly satisfied with the effect he was having on you.

“And after that, how about you ride me, pretty girl, hmm ? Bounce on my cock, you choose the pace, you choose everything… you can even grind your pretty little clit on me….” He almost moaned at his own description. “What do you say ?”

The way he checked for your approval had you almost as weak as his words.

“Yes yes, just do it, please, Jake.” Your inhibitions were completely gone, the only thing on your mind being him, and the promise of everything he was about to do to you.

He completely laid you down on the bed, climbing over you between your legs, his nose tracing into your neck, taking the time to take your smell in.

“You are so eager, baby, I fucking love it.” he whispered, sending chills in your entire body and making you squeeze your thighs around him.

Jake let his lips wander around your neck, mouthing and nibbling on the sensitive flesh, tongue darting out to lick at certain areas. One of your hand shot out to bury itself in his hair, mindlessly tugging on it.

“Ngh— Ah, Jake…” you let out a breathy moan.

He groaned in delight, “yeah keep tugging on my hair, darlin’.”

Jake continued his exploration of your neck while his hands were squeezing your waits through your fluid suit. He took the lobe of your ear in his mouth and sucked on it lightly.

“Fuck…” you whined, eyes closed in pure bliss, while you had started to grind lightly into Jake, desperate to get just a tiny bit of relief.

“So sensitive.” He marveled and you could feel his smirk on your skin.

When his kisses met the top of your flight suit, he finally began to unzip it, and your heart got wild at the sound of the zipper being tugged down. Carefully, he took it off you and was met with your white t-shirt and leggings. He playfully raised a brow at you.

“I can understand the t-shirt, but leggings ? How are you not burning alive, aren’t you hot with all this ?” He inquired.

You shrugged, finding it hard to explain yourself when you were in fact burning alive, but because of his gaze and touch, not your flight suit. “I don’t like the feeling of the suit rubbing on my skin.”

He hummed, “of course you don’t, with such a sensitive skin…” he played with the hem of your t-shirt, “can I, darlin’ ?”

“Yes please.”

Jake took off your t-shirt off with a smile, smiling even bigger at the sight of your flushed chest and breasts squeezed into your sports bra. He could see the faint outline of your nipples where they had already began to pebble. His thumbs lightly traced around them, the light touch already had your back arching. With your approval, he took off your bra, and he let out a moan at finally seeing your breasts bare.

“Sweetheart, you are gorgeous.” He almost whimpered, eyes raking over the swell of your tits hungrily.

His hands cupped them, squeezed, massaged, not letting an inch of your boobs go unattended. Your hips were bucking up into his as you began to cry out.

“That feels— so good.” You whined, pushing out your chest onto him.

His hands on your chest combined with the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his cock was making you delirious. The barrier between his core and yours was getting thinner and thinner and it was sending you crazy.

“Yeah I can see that.” He smirked huskily as his fingers began targeting your hard nipples.

His thumbs swirled them as his hips started to meet your movements, grinding himself into your clothed pussy.

“Jake, you feel so good— ah fuck !” You got interrupted by the feeling of his hot, wet mouth around one of your nipples.

He hummed around it, sending vibrations throughout your entire body. Your other nipple was swelling under the attention of his hand, it felt divine. His mouth was sucking on your nipple, tongue swirling around it, teeth grazing it just lightly.

He let go of it with a loud pop, staring at his spit coating your red and swollen bud, he let his thumb brush over it.

“So pretty…”

He gave the same treatment to your other nipple. Jake would have been fine staying hours worshipping your breasts, but eventually you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. The wetness pooling in your panties was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Jake,” you hesitated for a moment, not even believing the words that were about to come out of your mouth, but his adoration of you and you body was fueling your new found confidence, “eat me out— please.”

“Loot at you, asking for what you want, ‘m proud of you,” he praised, giving a lick to your nipple, “I will, baby, I will. Just give me a second to appreciate you, yeah ?”

Jake trailed kisses in the valley between your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your skin every now and then, and when his lips met the top of your legging, he, oh so slowly, took them off you. Your thighs fell open on their own.

“Baby, you are fucking leaking.” He rasped, eyes marveling at seeing how your grey underwear was soaked through, taking on a darker shade and clinging to your hot and slippery core.

“Yeah well, what were you expecting ?” You tried to scowl, heat rising to your cheeks out of embarrassment at his remark.

He didn’t dignify your brattiness with a response, only taking on a cooing voice to ask you, “could you back up a bit for me, sweetheart ?” You nodded, letting him get completely on the bed with you, “that’s it, get comfortable.”

Jake’s eyes returned to your clothed pussy, gaze laced with an hunger that felt too much to handle. His face got closer to you then, and you couldn’t contain the shaky breath that left you. Much to your surprise, Jake didn’t take off your panties, but his nose met your clit through the wet fabric as he took a sharp inhale. The contact sent a surge of electricity through you.

“Jake what are you— Ah !”

Your question ended in a moan when Jake’s tongue darted out to lick you over the fabric, gathering some of the wetness that was desperately leaking through, an irrefutable proof of the lust you felt for him. Before closing in bliss, your eyes caught Jake’s one almost rolling to the back of his head, from the mere taste of you on your panties.

“Taste better than I imagined,” he moaned into your panties, continuing to lick the fabric, letting his spit mix with your slick.

One thing you had noticed about Jake was that he was vocal, more than anyone you had been with. Vocal in his words, the way he talked to you, the way he expressed his pleasure… he wasn’t shy, wasn’t embarrassed about letting you know how good you looked, how good you felt. Wasn’t embarrassed about his pleasure being loud. And god did you love it.

At the feeling of him sliding your panties off, your eyes snapped open again, meeting his.

“Is this okay ?” He asked, a gentleness mixing with the huskiness in his voice that made your heart clench.

“Yes, thank you.” You smiled, gratitude taking over you at him being so careful, so respectful with you.

He returned your smile, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh and nosing at it, “no need to thank me, sweetheart.”

You grabbed at his flight suit, tugging him so he would come back up to you, he let himself get tugged while raising an inquiring brow, but his questioning expression quickly morphed into a melting one when you placed a tender kiss on his cheek, hoping the touch would convey every bit of the whirlwind of feelings taking your body hostage. You let your lips linger on his skin, and you heard him hum in delight. Cupping his cheek, you let your thumb rub his cheekbone adoringly. When you pulled away, you found nothing short of fondness and pure adoration in his eyes. Jake got close to you again, affectionately rubbing his nose with yours. In this moment, no words needed to be exchanged, only the quiet understanding of what this moment meant to you both.

Trailing kisses on his way down, he settled back between your thighs and finished taking off your panties, a string of your slick momentarily kept you connected to the fabric. Had Jake been any other man, you would have closed your legs, too embarrassed to have anyone that close to the most intimate part of you, but it was Jake. Jake who made it clear how much he wanted you, how he thought you were beautiful, Jake, who had promised to worship every inch of your body if you’d let him. So you kept your thighs open wide, baring yourself completely to him.

Jake fell silent as he took in your naked, weeping core for the first time, and you swore you could physically see his pupils dilate even more, if it was still possible at this point.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” He finally said, after a few seconds of contemplation.

“Thank you…” you mumbled out, feeling dizzy under the weight of his heavy stare.

“You’re so sweet, baby.”

His hands came up to your pussy and your whole body clenched in anticipation of his touch, but it never really came. Instead, he used his thumbs to open you up, getting a better look of your glistening pussy that was burning alive for him. Stretching out your outer lips, his gaze lingered on your hole, and all this attention involuntarily made you clench, the movement of the muscles getting out another string of slick. Jake let out an appreciative hum.

“Oh yeah, I can’t wait to feel that around my cock.”

Whining, You tried to close your legs, if only to get the tiniest bit of friction but he kept them open.

“Shh, shh baby it’s alright, be patient. I’ll take care of you in a sec.”

He returned to his investigation, this time moving up to your clit. Very gently, he pulled your hood back with careful fingers, looking at the swollen, red bud that was begging for his attention.

And just as you were about to cry out, maybe even beg him to do something, anything, because the tension in your core was becoming unbearable and truly uncomfortable, you saw a string of spit left his mouth and slowly land on your clit, and you physically felt the little sensitive flesh twitch. Your eyes left his face to take a peek at the obscene visual your pussy was showing. Jake’s spit had began sliding down your folds, mixing with your arousal, cascading slowly towards your clenching hole.

Your hips bucked involuntarily towards his face, this whole situation felt too much to handle “fuck, I’m sorry I’m just— oh my god !” Your apology morphed into a surprised moan when you felt Jake’s tongue lick a long stripe from your hole to the very top of your clit.

It was unlike anything you had felt before, Jake’s mouth felt wet and hot on your already burning core. It was slippery, sticky, messy… but perfect. He kept going like that a few times, tongue flattened, licking long stripes, covering every inch of your cunt, from the base to the top.

“How does that feel, baby ? You like that ?” He asked, smug smirk firmly in place while he looked up to you.

“Feels— so so good, Jake, fuck, can— can you keep going please ?” You asked breathless, already desperate to feel him on you again.

“‘Course, sweet girl,” the pet name alone made you moan, which Jake chuckled at, “can’t believe no one has eaten this sweet pussy out before.” He mumbled to himself, before going back to work.

Next thing you felt was his lips wrapping around your clit, trapping the sensitive bundle of nerves in his mouth and sucking on it, sending white, sharp surges of pleasure through your body. Needing to grab onto something, your hands were frantically fisting at your bed sheets. Jake then let his tongue circle your clit, which had your back arching, and he didn’t even let you get accustomed to the feeling before he immediately changed the stimulation by gently flicking the sensitive flesh. The room was quickly filling up with the sounds of your choked up moans and whimpers, you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore at that point, the only thing on your mind being Jake between your legs, making you see stars. Your cries were joined by the obscene sound of Jake’s mouth meeting your cunt. The wet and slurping noises should have embarrassed you, disgusted you even, but it only fueled the fire in your stomach, heightening the pleasure already burning in your veins. Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were clenching the sheets.

Gently, and without ever interrupting the filthy attention he was giving your clit, one of Jake’s hand came up to yours, covering it entirely. The touch took a few seconds to register in your mind and when it did, you let go of the fabric to hold his hand. But the intertwining of your fingers that you were expecting never came, instead, Jake guided your hand down on the top of his head, making you grab a handful of his golden hair.

“Hold on to me, sweetheart,” he spoke against your folds, emerald eyes flicking up to you, “that’s what I’m here for.”

Shivering at the sensation of his voice against you, you tried to reason, “but I grip really hard, I don’t want to hurt you.” You explained, voice strained and out of breath from all your moaning, but sincere.

“You won’t, baby, I can take it. And even if you do hurt me, don’t worry, I promise I’ll like it.”

Experimenting, you slightly tugged his hair and The sound he let out went straight to your clit.

After letting out an involuntary pathetic whimper, you conceded, “okay, I’ll hold on to you.”

Jake gave your clit an appreciative kiss, “what a sweet little thing you are, baby.”

His words seeped into your mind, adding a soothing warmth on top of the burning sensation running under your skin as Jake went back to his administrations.

Licking up every drop of the arousal that was profusely leaking out of you, he was letting out humming noises, as if your essence was the best thing that he’d been given to taste. The vibrations were deliciously reverberating against your core, sending you to new highs and causing you to tug on his hair, hard. Perhaps harder than what he had imagined. But the apologies you had loaded and ready on the top of your tongue died when he let out a moan that was unmistakably one of pleasure, not at all pain. And seeing him get pleasure out of this only heightened yours.

His hands were maintaining your thighs open this whole time when you were desperately trying to close them, and it got worse when his tongue left your swollen clit to trail down and meet your aching hole. Jake only teased your entrance, slurping more of the sweet nectar dripping out of you.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby.”

“You— oh god ! You feel so good,” you cried out, head thrown back in pleasure while you had unknowingly and instinctively started to rock back against his face.

Jake’s tongue circled your entrance once more before dipping in slightly, licking the inside of your walls with a ferver that had your back arching, more so when his nose started bucking against your clit. You were babbling, saying anything and everything that came to your mind, mainly praises about how good he was to you while he hummed appreciatively against you. You almost screamed when his mouth returned to your clit, sucking on it, letting his teeth slightly graze it. You didn’t think it was possible for you to feel anymore pleasure than the one locking your whole body up at the moment, but then Jake’s hands, which had been comfortably settled on your thighs, squeezing them, went up your body, gave your waist an affectionate squeeze and continued their way up to reach your breasts. His warm palms cupped your boobs and his fingers toyed with your nipples, which were still tender from his earlier administrations.

The added stimulation forced a guttural moan out of your throat, a noise you probably would have cringed at if your brain wasn’t so clearly seeping out through your core and straight into Jake’s relentless mouth.

The string was beginning to coil tighter and tighter in your stomach, one of your hand was still gripping into his hair for dear life while the other was on top of one of his that was squeezing your breast.

“Jake, Jake Jake—“

“Yeah, baby ? You getting close ?” He cooed, lips brushing your clit with every word.

“Yes— Oh fuck,” you moaned, back arching, “you’re so good, Jake, keep going please, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—“ you pleaded, delirious with the feeling of your impending orgasm.

“‘M not, sweetheart, promise. Just relax for me.”

His tongue never stopped, neither did his fingers — twisting, rubbing, pinching your nipples. Your whole body started to lock up in anticipation of your release, thighs tensing and desperately trying to close around Jake’s head, breathing erratic… you were on the precipice, so so close… The string was coiled so tight in your lower stomach it was almost starting to hurt.

“Baby, just let go for me, you’re doing so good.” Jake whispered against your slippery folds, sensing your internal panic. “Relax and let it come to you, you’ve been such a good girl,” His hands adoringly cupped your breasts, letting go of the rough treatment on your nipples for a moment.

And before he could even return to sucking on your clit, his words had already pushed you over the edge. White, hot pleasure crashed into your body, making you arch your back so hard you’d probably still feel it tomorrow. Moans and cries got stuck in your throat, mouth silently hanging open, eyes rolling back to the back of your head though you wished you had been able to keep them on Jake.

Jake, who was loudly moaning against you, continued to lick and mouth at you while your pussy was frenetically clenching, rewarding him with your cum. He was enthusiastically prolonging your orgasm, he was making waves after waves of pleasure continuing to pass through you and you swore it felt dizzying for two seconds.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby,” he coaxed, hands running all over your body, “fuck, you look so beautiful.”

When you found your voice again, it was barely whimpers which made it past the threshold of your mouth. After what felt like blissful forever, you slowly started to come back down, you opened your eyes again at the feeling of Jake leaving small kisses all over your trembling thighs. He caught your eyes and smiled.

“There you are, how do you feel ?”

“Good,” you slurred, “so good, like my brain is gone.”

“Perfect,” he chuckled, “that was the plan.”

He continued to pamper your thighs and lower body in kisses, contact that was only reinforcing the floaty state you were in. His hands left your chest to rub your stomach, your thighs, but when he affectionately squeezed the high side of your left thigh, you hissed.

Immediately, Jake looked alert.

“Did I hurt you ?”

“No it’s okay, it’s just a bruise.”

He moved a bit to get a look at the place he had touched and he grimaced when he saw the deep purple bruise stretching on your thigh and stopping just shy of your ass.

“That’s a nasty bruise, what the hell did you do ?”

“Do you promise not to laugh ?”

He quirked an eyebrow at that.

“Well I’m definitely intrigued now. I promise, baby.”

“On Wednesday, you know it was raining really hard and I had that solo training flight. And… When I got out of my jet I slipped right off the ladder. Literally smashed so hard on the concrete.”

You saw the end of Jake’s lips quirk up slightly, he was so evidently holding in a laugh.

“God,” he exhaled a faint chuckle passing through, “I wish i’d been there to see that.”

“You fucking jerk,” you snarled with a teasing grin, giving his hair a tug that was meant to be reprimanding but felt more affectionate than anything. “actually, you know what’s funny ? My first reflex after I fell was to check that you weren’t fucking lurking nearby to make fun of me.”

Jake couldn’t hold back anymore and burst out laughing.

“Damn, how much of an asshole do you think I am ?”

You only deadpanned at him, no words needed to be said.

“Yeah, okay but I would have helped you, not laughed at you.”

“Really, Jake ? Is that the first thing you would have done ? Run to help me in my distress ?”

He took a minute to jokingly think it over.

“Okay I definitely would have laughed first,” he conceded, “But,” he held up a finger to stop you from saying anything before he could finish, “then, like the true gentleman I am, I would have ran by your side, baby.”

He placed a tender kiss on the inside of your thighs while being careful to not touch your bruise anymore. And suddenly, you were reminded of the context, which the banter had quietly taken you out of. You were sprawled out in front of Jake in all your naked glory, thighs open wide and trembling around his head while he laid on your bed, the end of his legs dangling off it and still entirely clothed with his flight suit.

Feeling a bit of shyness come back running as well as the need for his touch, you squirmed a little.

“You— you would have ?” You asked, already having lost the course of the conversation.

“Mmmh, do you not believe me, sweet girl ?”

You gulped, “not really, no.”

“I wonder what I could do to fix that…” Jake placed a kiss on your pubis, just above your little patch of hair.

Inhaling sharply, you refrained your hips from bucking into his face, “you don’t have to, Jake, you already— you know, you already made me… cum.” You whispered that last word out.

He looked up to you then, and the look in his eyes almost made you shy away “don’t even think about that, I want to.” He assured you, “question is, do you want to as well ?”

Was there any universe where you would have said no to having Jake Seresin stay longer between your thighs ? No, you didn’t think so.

You nodded.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Come on, you were doing so good earlier, telling me what you wanted...”

The sheer idea of being good for him again gave you back some of the courage you needed.

“Please eat me out again.”

A huge grin stretched his lips, glossy from your arousal, “that’s my girl.”

And he didn’t waste a second, immediately diving back into your cunt, munching on your puffy lips. Sensitive from your first orgasm, the pleasure felt so much more intense. It took him no time to have you writhing and squirming again as he focused all his attention on your swollen clit. Your moans were echoing off the walls of your room and you were so loud you were sure to receive some mean looks from your neighbors in the morning.

Silently, Jake’s hand gravitated towards your entrance, and the feeling of his fingertips on your hole startled you a little.

“Can I, sweetheart ? Need to get you ready for me.”

The prospect alone made you clench, “yes, yes, just— um, be gentle please ? It’s been a long time since, um,” you cleared your throat, “well, you know.”

“Of course, baby, I’ll be so gentle, don’t worry.”

His tongue returned to your sensitive bundle of nerves while his index finger circled your entrance, teasing you a bit before slowly inserting it. The stretch felt a bit uncomfortable at first, touching your own clit barely felt like anything so fingering yourself was always kind of out of the question for you, and it’d been a long time since your last miserable hook up. But the uncomfortable sensation quickly left place to pleasure as Jake gently curled his finger, and for a moment he only rubbed your inner walls, not even fully taking his finger out, only slowly dragging it along your walls. Somehow, how gentle he was with it all made it hotter for you.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart, just relax for me.”

You gasped when he gave your clit a particularly hard suck, “fuck— I’m trying, but you’re not exactly making it easy, ohmygod !”

His finger suddenly hit a spot that made you see stars and had your thighs trembling even more.

“Oh yeah, that’s the spot,” Jake spoke low in his throat, finger rubbing on the cluster of nerves.

Slowly, his middle finger joined his index, making come hither motions and hitting that sensitive spot every time.

“Jake, Jake yes right there, please— oh god that feels so good !” You cried out, pushing out your hips onto him, an unconscious attempt to feel more of his mouth on you.

Your walls were desperately fluttering around his fingers, a sign of your impending orgasm that you could feel building stronger than ever in your lower stomach. Hands feeling frantic again, you grabbed at Jake’s hair, arms, shoulders — any part of him that you could reach. It didn’t feel like enough, you needed more of him, the desire felt irrational, delirious and you must have looked crazy frenetically trying to hold onto him.

Wordlessly, since his mouth was occupied worshipping your twitching clit, his free hand gently took one of yours that was desperately grabbing at his shoulder, and he intertwined your fingers, thumb soothingly rubbing on your skin. The gentle touch amidst the hot and sharp pleasure was what you needed and your orgasm felt closer than ever.

“Can feel you clenching so hard, baby, you close, aren’t you ? Cum for me, sweet girl, make a mess, I’m right here.”

It seemed to be a pattern now, but his words immediately made the coil snapped as you came with a cry of his name, walls clenching so hard around his fingers it was almost impossible for him to keep fucking you through your orgasm. He made up for it by giving little licks to your overstimulated clit.

“Jake fuck !”

“Just like that, sweetheart, yeah must feel so good, huh ?” Jake coaxed, fingers inside still rubbing your inner walls.

The orgasm felt never ending, cunt frenetically pulsing and clit twitching under his tongue, the pleasure pulsing in your body felt like too much. And not long after, Jake’s mouth on your clit felt more uncomfortable than pleasurable and you gently tried to push his head off you with a whine, which he immediately did.

“Sorry, baby, you sensitive ?”

You nodded, not feeling like you could talk. Very slowly, Jake took his fingers out of you and immediately put them in his mouth, sucking them clean, not wasting a drop of your taste. And somehow, even though he just had been munching on you for the past twenty minutes, the visual made you blush. He took a look at your puffy pussy from his work and hummed low in his throat, seeming proud of his work. He soothingly rubbed his hands all over your body, being careful of avoiding where you were the most sensitive.

“You did so good, sweetheart, you were such a good girl for me.”

You let out an involuntary whimper at the praise and pulled him back up to you by the neck of his flight suit.

“That was so fucking good, Jake, I never— I never came like that.”

He smiled and leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, and you could taste yourself on his lips. It only sparked a new flame of desire inside of you. Sighing softly into his mouth you almost whined in protest when he pulled back. He was still entirely clothed in his flight suit and suddenly every repressed thoughts you had ever had about him came running back. The urge to act upon them pushed the words out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Jake, could you lay down, please ?”

He seemed surprised, and intrigued, but definitely pleased, judging by the familiar smirk pulling at his pink and swollen lips.

“You wanna take care of me, baby ?” He cooed while doing what you asked.

“Yes,” you simply said in a breath, switching position with him.

Your honesty took him back for a second but he happily complied, and he began unzipping his flight suit but your hand shot out to stop him.

“No, let me.”

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but you noticed. You always did when it came to him.

Jake got comfortable against your pillows, opening his legs slightly so you could get between them, and you took a moment to admire him. He was completely laid out on your bed, jade eyes looking up at your naked form hovering over him.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this exact situation,” he confessed in a breath.

His endless praise and confessions of how long he’s wanted this were only fueling your confidence.

“I think I might…” you trailed off, eyes pointedly looking at the prominent bulge in his flight suit.

Leaning down, your mouth landed on his neck and the first thing you did was take a whiff of his scent, of him. And you only thought of yourself as disgusting for half a second for finding the smell of his sweat arousing. Breathing into his neck flipped a switch into your brain.

You trailed kisses all over the thin skin of his neck, and you licked a long stripe from the base of it up until his jawline, just beneath his ear. Jake let out a pleasured sigh, hands shooting out to grip your hips, desperate to feel you. Trailing your way down with kisses, you met the top of his flight suit and the sheer idea of taking it off him sent your heart reeling.

“Can I take it off ?”

“Hell yes, baby.”

You began unzipping it and helped him out of it, he was left only in a white t-shirt and his boxers. Without waiting a second, both your pair of hands made quick work of disregarding his top. The sight before you was nothing short of heavenly and you barely noticed the whimper that left your throat.

Splayed out on your bed sheets, Jake looked like every single repressed and unconscious fantasy you ever had. His cheeks were visibly getting redder under your scrutinizing gaze, it made his eyes stand out more as he looked up at you, anticipation burning in the two emeralds throning at the top of his face.

Your eyes hungrily followed the course of his deepening blush. His neck was beautifully blooming in a gentle pink, and you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The blush continued its way down, painting his collarbone and tanned chest. And God his chest. It looked firm and soft at the same time, his nipples were hard, and stupidly you didn’t think men’s nipples could do that but you suddenly got an urge to take them in your mouth.

Your eyes continued their way down, passing over the hair adorning his chest, his well defined abs, his happy trail disappearing beneath his boxers — taunting you. And finally, your gaze settled between his legs. His black boxers were very obviously strained with the weight of his erection, and you could even see a tiny dark patch of fabric where he’d been leaking precum. The entire sight of him was so erotic you practically could feel the blood drain from your brain to make a one way race over to your pulsing clit.

“Are you just gonna look at me all night ?” He prompted in a teasing tone laced with something strained.

“You’re so hot, Jake.”

You would have thought that someone like Jake would be used to this kind of praise, but the blush only darkened on his already tanned skin, and that turned you on more than you could have imagined. Leaning down, your mouth started licking at his collarbone, tasting his skin. And quickly you navigated towards his nipples, circling one with your tongue while you toyed with the other with your fingers, mirroring the sweet torture he had inflicted you only minutes prior.

“Oh fuck…” he let out a guttural groan mixed with a small chuckle, “not gonna lie, nipple play was not something I expected from you.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, lips brushing his bud with every word. “But your nipples are very pretty— I mean you’re very pretty— fuck I’m sorry I’m not good at this.”

“You’re all good, baby, don’t worry, you’re good.”

Giving one of his nipple a small lick of appreciation, his whole body shivered and you felt his cock twitch beneath you when you resumed your administrations.

“Y/N, please just touch my cock.”

“Patience, Jake, let me appreciate you.” You cooed with a smirk, mimicking the tone he’d used with you.

Jake let out a strained laugh, “asshole.”

Winking at him, you resumed your path down his body, licking his abs, nibbling on them, letting your teeth ever so slightly graze them… And every single one of Jake’s reaction, every low moan, groan, gasp, buck of his hips, every whine — because yes Jake Seresin was not a man who was afraid to whine — was driving you insane. Replacing every single rational thoughts in your mind by him, only and purely him.

Getting to the level of his Adonis belt, one thought got through the thick fog of want and desire clouding your mind.

“I’ve never— um,” and then you just stated rambling, “listen I know you ate me out and that felt so so good but I— fuck I never went down on a guy before and trust me I want to go down on you but, it’s just that I’m nervous I won’t do good and—“

“Hey, hey hey hey, baby, it’s alright, you’re good” he sat up a bit to face you, “no obligation at all, ‘m not expecting anything from you, okay ? We can stop right now.”

“No no, I don’t want to stop,” you expressed a bit too eagerly, “I— I want to jack you off, if that’s alright.”

Jake thought right there and then that your politeness in such a context would end up killing him.

“Yeah, that’s more than alright, sweetheart. Just do what you’re comfortable with, we can try other things next time.”

‘Next time’. The possibility made your head spin.

After locking your lips with his briefly in a grateful gesture, you started, with his help, to take off his boxer. His cock finally sprung free, and the sight was almost too much. You were wondering if perhaps your arousal hadn’t started to leak on your sheets by now.

He was big, but that was to be expected of Jake. He had veins running all along his shaft, leading to his tip which looked swollen and red and had precum profusely leaking from it. You never would have thought that you’d say that about a dick, but he looked pretty. Or perhaps it was the fact that it was Jake’s that made it look so appealing to you.

You were about to spit in your day to get it wet when you thought of a better idea. Locking eyes with Jake, your hand went between your legs, gathering some of the slickness glossing your folds. His eyes widened at the sight.

“Shit, Y/N…”

Your hand now wet with your arousal, you carefully wrapped it around Jake, who let out a hiss at the contact. Your hand went up and down his length, swirling slightly on his tip, gathering his precum and mixing it with your own juices.

Placing a hand on his chest — his skin felt burning under your palm — you gently pushed him back so he could lay on your pillows again. You were in no way near as talented as Jake was for dirty talk, but you were determined to make him know just how much he was turning you on. So you simply decided to let your mouth run free, translating out in the open every thought going through your mind.

“Your moans are so pretty,” you told him, hand still on his chest while the other was slowly stroking him up and down.

This only prompted him to let out a louder one, “fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me….”

Your thumb gently wipes his slit and he bucked up in your hand, “does that feel good ?”

“Yes— Hmm shit, yes, you’re doing so good.”

“Your cock feels amazing in my hand.”

His head was thrown back, eyes tightly closed, he looked perfect. Leaning down, you began to tease his nipples with your mouth. A string of moans and groans were leaving his mouth, as you continued to stroke him, alternating between rubbing his sensitive tip and his length.

You could hear his moans getting breathier and heavier, his cock was constantly twitching in your hand as your mouth was occupied switching between his buds, which had gotten all swollen from your attention. His abs were contracting and from your limited experience, it was a sign of his impending orgasm. Eager to see him completely lose himself in the waves of pleasure only by your hand, you sped up, just slightly, before his hand suddenly shot out to stop you.

“Wait, I want to feel you around me when I cum.”

Only capable of nodding feverishly, you took your hand off him.

“Do you have a condom ?” He asked you.

“Um— fuck let me check.”

Rummaging through the drawers of your bedside table, you were praying to find at least one condom, you didn’t think you’d be able to survive not feeling him inside you any longer. When you found one, you quickly checked that it wasn’t expired before handing it to Jake. He made quick work of unwrapping it before rolling it down his cock, an action you watched intensely with noticeable hunger.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” Jake lightly patted his lap.

With slightly shaky limbs from anticipation, you swinged one leg across his lap, straddling him.

“You ready ?” He asked you, gently rubbing your thighs up and down.

“Yeah,” you answered in a breath.

Rubbing his cock a few times, he lined it up with your pussy, rubbing your clit with his tip. Your thighs trembled slightly.

“Can I…?” You trailed off, voice shaky.

“Yeah, come on down, baby.”

With Jake’s help, you started to lower yourself down on him. His tip breached past your folds and you both gasped at the feeling.

“F-Fuck sweetheart, you’re so warm…”

The stretch was heavenly as you continued to slowly go down, taking more of him inside you.

“Jake, ngh— oh my god.”

Feeling him run against your sensitive walls was making your legs weak.

“Baby, ah— relax a bit for me, yeah ? You’re squeezing me so fucking hard—“

“‘M sorry, you just feel so good.” You whimpered.

When you fully sat down on him, you were practically shaking, pussy desperately fluttering around him. Taking the time to adjust to his size, you tried to breathe through it. You felt so completely full, in the best way.

Jake seemed as overwhelmed as you, his hands gripping your thighs.

“You feel perfect, sweetheart…” he praised, his thumb moving to trace languid circles on your clit which made you jolt slightly.

You wish you would have been able to warn Jake, but you weren’t even aware of it yourself. It only took one more pass of his thumb over your clit for your body to entirely lock up upon the pleasure washing over you.

Your orgasm took you by surprise as you hunched over him, shaking with the force of it and pussy helplessly clenching around him.

“Oh God— Ah fuck !”

Jake’s eyes widened out for a second before letting his hands run all over your thighs, ass and chest, coaxing you through it.

“Let it all out, sweetheart. Shit— you’re doing so good for me sweet girl, such a good girl, God you’re creaming all over me…”

Hunched over him, violent tremors passed through you as you were completely helpless to the pleasure holding you hostage. The knowledge that you were that close to him and that there was no physically possible way for you two to be closer than the position you were in right now was making your fall over the edge that much powerful.

“You’re inside me,” you finally said looking down at where you two were connected when the peak of your pleasure let place to static white noise.

Jake looked up at you so reverently you genuinely thought this moment would be the death of you, and you caught yourself thinking it wouldn’t be such a bad way to leave this world.

“Yes I am,” he agreed, voice strained but so worshipful, “and you feel so perfect, sweet girl, you’re perfect. Feels like you were fucking made for me.” He breathed out, palm going to rest against your stomach, pressing down lightly to feel himself inside of you.

You let out a small moan as you placed a hand on top of his, “I think I was.”

In one swift movement, Jake sat up to bring his lips to yours, pouring every single one of his feelings for you into it, and God did you feel it. When you both pulled back to get air, he rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together.

“Do you feel like you can move, or are you a bit tired ?” Jake asked you gently after a minute.

Slowly testing your strength, you tried lifting yourself a bit and were immediately met with the reality of your quivering thighs. Your sensitivity was through the roof and your stamina had been taken out by your three prior orgasms.

“Yeah, sorry I don’t think this position is gonna do it…”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take good care of you,” he said, voice low and husky.

With all the care in the world, and all the while staying seated inside your warmth, he flipped you so that you were now comfortably resting against the pillows while he was hovering above you.

“You comfy ?” He asked, his nose fondly nudging yours.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “so comfortable, thank you.”

Jake let out a small chuckle while his hips slowly began to grind into yours, “love how polite you are, such a sweet little thing, aren’t you ?”

Your response was only a drawn moan at the feeling of his cock rubbing inside your walls. A slow grind that had his neat patch of pubic air perfectly rub on your clit, it was divine.

“Ah— Oh Jake you feel so— Ngh fuck…”

“Yeah tell me baby, how do I feel ?” he prompted.

“Good, so good, so fucking good..” you rambled, already lost in the pleasure he was providing you.

“Yeah that’s it,” he praised, putting back one of his hand on your stomach and pressing down, “you feel me ? I’m right here, right here baby, so fucking deep inside you…”

A cried left your throat as his hips gained a bit more strength in their movement. You were desperate to keep holding his gaze but you were unable to refrain your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. Your nails were digging into his skin, raking all over his shoulders and back which Jake let out a blissful hiss at. Your hands kept going lower and lower, almost making his back arch. Eventually, you reached his ass and cupped his cheeks, and Jake let out a chuckle through his string of moans of your name.

“That’s right, I forgot you had a thing about my ass.”

“You looked very good today,” you huffed out in a whimper.

Jake let out a groan.

“Yeah ? You were checking me out, darlin’ ?” He asked, Texan drawl dripping from his tongue like hot honey, brain too focused on you to try and conceal it anymore, “I knew you were, that’s why I walked up in front you on the tarmac this morning…”

Squeezing his ass in response, you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“Don’t be embarrassed now, I’m flattered, baby, really.”

He angled his hips slightly, and his tip hit a spot you didn’t even know existed in you, sending white, hot pleasure in your veins.

“Jake— ohmygod, right there, right there, fuck—“

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Without thinking twice about it, you looked up from his neck, your eyes diving into his jade ones, half lidded with pupils dilated, he was looking so intensely at you. Jake picked up the pace a bit, cock hitting right on that spot with every single thrust and you were fighting yourself to keep your eyes on him.

“Where is your vibrator ?” He asked, a bit breathless but hips keeping steady.

The question took a minute to register in your mind, “what for ?”

Jake grinned, the front of his golden hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, “what do you think, baby ? I wanna use it on your pretty little clit.”

The perspective of having anything other than Jake’s skin touch you felt wrong. He was warm above you, loud, alive, him. The idea of having the cold silicone on you repulsed you.

“I don’t want the vibrator,” you said quickly, “I want you, just you.”

His languid rhythm faltered for a second as he let out a long, guttural moan, before resuming his pace.

“Jesus, darlin’, you can’t just say shit like that…”

Two of his fingers moved down your body and reached up your swollen and puffy clit, tracing slow circles on it.

“I’m right here, right here, baby, just me.”

Crying out, you held on tighter to him, the added stimulation was bringing you closer to your fourth high of the night.

Jake’s face was so close to yours both of your breaths were mingling together, strings of curses and moans leaving both of you. The sensation of his length inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside of you combined with the pressure on your clit was driving you crazy, your legs went to wrap around his waist, squeezing him without meaning to.

“You feel amazing, pussy sucking in me so fucking good,” he moaned against your lips, “you’re so perfect, sweet girl…”

You clenched so hard at his words it was impossible for him to move for a few seconds.

“Ohhh baby, you like that huh, ? Like when I tell you how perfect you are for me ? My sweet, sweet girl…” his lips left a tender kiss on your forehead.

The pet name alone was making you see stars, and you could feel your orgasm starting to build from very deep within your guts.

“I like when you call me that,” you whimpered.

“Call you what ? Sweet girl ? Is that what has you clenching your tight little pussy ‘round me ?”

“Yes— fuck, ‘m so close Jake, please don’t stop, ‘m so so close…”

“‘M not stopping, sweet girl, ‘m gonna make you feel so fucking good, wanna feel you cum around me so bad…” he moaned.

“Are— are you close too ? Wanna cum with you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as you felt his cock twitch inside you, “yeah, I am, shit—“

With every thrust, his chest was rubbing against your sensitive nipples. Your pussy was throbbing, leaking down Jake’s cock and onto your sheets. The room was filled with the obscene noises of your slick getting pushed in and out of you by Jake, and with both of your breathless moans. It all felt too much, in the best way possible. Your toes curled and you could feel in your bones that the waves of pleasure would submerge you miore violently than ever before.

“Jake,” you caught his attention, desperate to let him know, “Jake— fuck, I’m gonna cum, cum with me please, please, Jake—“ you were practically incoherent, but he understood every word, he never once changed his pace, keeping that delicious rhythm that was seconds away from tipping you over the edge.

“‘M right here with you, go ahead, cum for me sweet girl, ‘m right behind you, promise, cum for me, you’ve been so good…”

That was it.

With a noise that you didn’t know you were capable of making, you came apart beneath Jake. The force of your orgasm crashing onto you almost took your breath away. The pleasure locked all your muscles in place, rendering you completely helpless, you couldn’t do anything but cry out Jake’s name on repeat as you felt your body elevate to another dimension.

“That’s it, sweet girl, yeah— Ngh fuck !”

It didn’t take look for Jake to follow behind you. Your pussy was clenching sporadically around him, locking him in place and leaking all over his cock.

Right as you felt him twitch inside of you, your hands went up to cup his face, forcing him to look at you while he came. You wanted — no, needed to see him. As soon as his eyes met yours and with a few weakened out thrusts, he emptied himself in the condom with a long, drawn out moan. You could see that his eyes desperately wanted to fall closed to focus on the sensation of his release but he forced himself to keep them on you.

Mouth opened, eyes at the limit of rolling to the back of his head and eyebrows scrunched up…

He looked beautiful.

Seeing him like that only prolonged your own high.

It felt never ending. But eventually, after what had felt like eternity, Jake dropped carefully on top of you, completely spent.

“Jesus… I never came like that,” he exhaled in a small, amazed and tired chuckle.

His head was buried in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily on your skin. One of your hands automatically moved to his hair, tenderly passing your fingers through his golden locks, which he let out a blissful sigh at.

Your release left you with a sense of floating that felt like lying on a cloud. As you were trying to catch your breath and get it back to normal, you suddenly felt your heart clench. Without understanding why, your throat started to close up and your eyes to tear up. Feeling a sense of panic at your sudden and inexplicable distress, you tried to keep the tears from running down your cheeks. But it was useless. God, what was happening to you ? You felt good, great, perfect even, so what the fuck had gotten into you ?

Trying to understand where this was coming from and why the tears were now falling freely down your flushed cheeks, you let out an involuntary sob. Jake immediately looked up from where he was nudged against your neck, and his tired eyes immediately widened when they saw your face. Very gently, he pulled out of you.

“Hey, hey Y/N are you okay ? Did I hurt you ?” He sat up, giving you space from him.

“No I’m alright, I’m fine, I swear,” you tried to explain through the sobs that you couldn’t contain, “I— I don’t know what’s happening—“

Jake’s face melted right then and there and he seemed to understand in seconds what you couldn’t, he wasted no time to take you into his arms, holding you close.

“Shh, shh, You’re okay, Y/N, it’s alright. It’s just the hormones crashing down, you’re okay.”

Chocking up on a cry, you held onto him tighter than what was probably comfortable for him, but he said nothing of it. He only rocked you gently, continuing to shush you softly.

“I’m sorry—“ you hiccuped into his shoulder, “I don’t know what’s happening—“

“You’re all good, sweet girl, shh shh, you’re okay I promise.”

When the sobs calmed down, he slowly pulled away from you, if only to take a good look at your reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“‘M sorry…” you said in a low voice, ashamed of having ruined such a blissful moment.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” he assured in a gentle voice while brushing a sweaty strand of her behind your ear, “you’re all good. Crying after sex is completely normal, it can happen after big orgasms. It’s all your hormones crashing down at once, it can cause some people to get emotional. Nothing embarrassing.”

Sniffling a bit and wiping your eyes, you almost broke down again at his gentle explanation. You wrapped your arms around him again, needing the comfort and safety of his arms in your fragile emotional state.

“Thank you.” You exhaled, leaving a tender and grateful kiss in the crook of his neck.

One of his hand was cupping your head while the other was adoringly rubbing your back.

“No need to thank me, baby, it’s normal.”

Both of you stayed like that for what felt like forever. Embraced by each other, in a comfortable silence that was only disturbed by the sound of your relaxed breaths. Naked both in body and in feelings, you thought that this might be what heaven felt like.

Jake’s voice eventually broke the peace, “you need to go pee, sweetheart.”

“Jake, what the fuck ?” You pulled back in a stunned laugh to look at him.

“Don’t look so offended, I don’t want you to get a UTI, I’m thoughtful,” he said in a mock, overly sweet voice.

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, playfully slapping his chest.

Jake laughed and quickly stole a kiss that had you giggling.

“Instead of worrying about my genital hygiene, why don’t you worry about yourself first ?” You teasingly asked, pointing to his softening cock, still trapped in the used condom.

He’d been so focused on calming and reassuring you that he’d forgot to throw out the condom.

“Ah fuck, that’s disgusting,” he grimaced before taking it off and tying it up, “where’s your bathroom ?”

“Right outside on the left.”

You watched him get up in all his naked glory, eyes inevitably trailing down…

“Did you leave scratch marks on my ass ?” He asked without even turning around.

“A little,” you giggled, hearing him laugh as he disappeared inside the bathroom.

He quickly came back after getting rid of the condom, he stopped a minute by the door, eyes raking over your naked form.

Letting a yawn, you met his gaze with a fond smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower before bed, do…” you cleared your throat, “do you wanna join me ?”

The smile that broke out on Jake’s face was nothing short of dazzling, “that’d be my greatest pleasure.”

In three big and quick strides, he reached you and without warning he lifted you up bridal style. You let out a squeal in surprise.

“I can walk you know,” you said in a laugh.

“With how hard you just came on my dick ? I don’t think so, sweetheart, sorry.”

You made a mock undignified noise, “I’ll let it slide, just this once, Seresin.”

“And i’m back to last name basis.”

“I can think of a few ways to get back to first name, if you’re interested.” You said, your voice instinctively dropping to a sultry tone you didn’t think you were capable of.

“Oh yeah ?” Jake inquired, voice matching yours as he started to walk towards the bathroom, “I’m more than interested, sweet girl.” He said, head dropping down to leave kisses all over your neck.

Letting another squeal, it was impossible for you to conceal your fit of pleased giggles.

You didn’t think you had ever felt anymore at peace than in this very moment. And watching Jake turn on the shower, that’s when you really understood.

Pleasure is no shame. It never should have been. And you knew that with Jake by your side, it never would be again.

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Author’s note : OMG guys I felt like this fic was never ending😭 but I am so happy and so proud to finally present you the final part of Pleasure Is No Shame. The support on this series has been insane and I’m so grateful.

This fic started as the most self indulgent premise ever, and I’m so glad so many of you took pleasure in reading it ! I put my blood, sweat and tears into it and I sincerely hope you enjoyed that last part ! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged or even just read this series, it means a lot and I think it will always have a special place in my heart !

Also I never planned for it to actually be that long so I’m sorry if it ended up being boring, don’t hesitate to tell me if it was too long !

Next thing I’m gonna try to work on is 8-pool meltdown part 2 !💞

[written-in-twilight]

Lovesick - Bob Reynolds

Synopsis: You're hard to read, but Bob still falls for you. He sees another side to you when you fall ill. A more clingy and needy side, safe to say, he loves it. Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader/Thunderbolts!Reader Tags: Pure fluff, pre-established relationship, soft!Bob, slighlty jealous!Bob, mutual pining, singular use of y/n, and not proofread. WC: 2,752 Masterlist Divider: @cursed-carmine Moved back to my main page All my stories and reblogs can be found there from now on :))

Bob is sick.

Lovesick

Or that's what Yelena has been saying for the past few weeks. He takes her teasing all in good fun. He likes you, but he isn't great with words. Bob likes to think of himself as a man of action. Although he's a bit of a blushing mess whenever you're in a three-foot radius of him. Of course, everyone picks up on it, but you.

He thought Ava was hard to read, but you're another story. At times, you make Ava look like an open book. Bob doesn't mind. It's one of the reasons why he likes you so much. He just hopes somewhere deep down you have a soft spot for him. And then luck is finally on his side. Fortunate for him, but not so much for you.

The Thunderbolts can handle anything... well, almost anything. They had never had the pleasure of dealing with a sick you.

Until now.

Bob is in the kitchen fixing your usual breakfast, blueberry pancakes with extra blueberries. John and Bucky are also in the kitchen, and Bob is starting to feel overstimulated by John's nonstop talking and Bucky's constant hovering and blueberry-stealing habits. Bob is about to snap and politely tell Bucky to stop stealing your blueberries when Yelena stomps in, looking a bit frazzled.

"Whoa, what's with the face?" John asks, trying his best to suppress a smile at the sight of Yelena's grumpy expression.

"Shut it, Walker," she grumbles, and Bucky slides her a cup of coffee as a silent peace offering.

The three of them stare at her in slight astonishement and she literally downs it. Bob is impressed and slightly shocked by how unfazed she remains by the scalding-hot liquid.

Bucky catches the mug she slides back to him, and before he pours her another cup, he asks, "Late night?"

She shakes her head. "More like a horrible morning."

"Didn't you just wake up?" John questions.

"Yeah, but that's not the horrible part. I tried waking up Y/N."

They all say 'oh' in unison.

You're not a morning person whatsoever. The night owls of the team are Bob, Alexei, you, Ava, and Yelena. Although Yelena claims she can function as a night owl or an early bird, lies.

Yelena buries her face in her hands as she groans. "No, it gets worse. She's sick."

Bob pauses mid pancake flip. "Wait, she's sick?" All of them don't miss the slight waver in his voice. Bob is worried.

"Mhm... Ava and I tried getting her up this morning, and she almost punched me in the face."

Bucky slightly frowns at her words. More out of concern for you than Yelena almost getting a fist to the face. "We should get her to the medical wing."

"It's just a cold and ha! Good luck with that. It will take you, Walker, and Bob to get her out of her room."

John gives Bucky a sly nudge and says, "Or maybe just Bob."

The two of them look at Bob, who's staring off into space. Pancakes slightly forgotten. His thoughts are consumed by the fact that you're sick.

John claps Bob on the shoulder. "Why don't you check on her for us?"

Bob rapidly blinks, remembering that he's standing in the kitchen holding a spatula. "R-right... yeah... I should check on her."

Yelena, Bucky, and John all share a knowing look as Bob quickly turns off the stove and anxiously wipes his hands on his pants.

"She has a mean right hook," Yelena reminds him as Bob hurries out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom.

"Poor guy," John mutters with a shake of his head.

"I think it's cute," Yelena counters. Feeling much better now that she doesn't have to deal with a sick you.

"Or she'll eat him alive," Bucky adds.

"Nah, she has a soft spot for him," Yelena replies, and they nod in agreement at her words.

You do have a soft spot for Bob.

Deep down.

---

Bob tries shaking away any lingering jitters as he stands in front of your door. Just knock, everything will be fine. He quickly knocks before he can change his mind, but doesn't get an answer. He presses an ear to the door and hears your faint breathing.

He knocks again, nothing, and then he slowly opens the door. He sighs in relief when the hinges don't creak. He pokes his head in. Your room is relatively dark, except for the small lamp on your nightstand. You're currently buried underneath your duvet and several blankets. Bob is pretty sure you've stolen Yelena's favorite weighted blanket. No wonder she's so grumpy.

Bob slowly enters your room and quietly shuts the door behind him. It feels like he's entering the lion's den. He can count on one hand the total number of times he's seen your room. Including now he's been physically inside your room twice.

The first time was by accident; he thought your room was Yelena's, and he was met with a pillow to the face. He had accidentally walked in on you while you were changing out of your gym clothes.

He was sure you were going to murder him after that, but you didn't say anything about the incident, and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up. He felt horrible, really, he did, and he even tried apologizing, but you just gave him a slightly annoyed look, and he didn't try again.

He takes the chance to look around your room, and it's what he expected your room to look like. It's tidy and minimal, except for your wide-open closet, which shows how unorganized and cluttered it is. He can't help but smile at the sight; it's like he's learning something new about you.

He squares his shoulders as he moves closer to your bed. The top of your head is partially poking out. Huh, you're a stomach sleeper. Bob stares at the top of your head for a moment before realizing how slightly creepy he's being. Just standing here, watching you sleep. He tenetively reaches out and pokes your shoulder. All you do is give a sleepy sigh and scoot away from his hand.

Bob silently prays that you don't try to punch him. Although it won't do any damage. This time, his hand lands on your shoulder, and he gives you a firm shake as he says your name.

You give another grumble and mutter, "Bucky?"

A slight twinge of jealousy washes through Bob at Bucky's name. "No, uh, it's me... Bob," he weakly replies.

You finally roll over, and Bob can see your face a little better. You look a little sweaty, some baby hairs are stuck to your forehead, and your nose is red. When you finally open your eyes, they look bleary and a little bloodshot.

You cover your mouth as you give a cough, and Bob winces when he hears how congested you are. "Hi," you weakly say before giving him that small, soft smile.

Bob writes it off as you being sick. In your delirious state, you probably think he's Bucky right now. He wishes he were Bucky. Because Bucky gets all those sweet, soft smiles from you. If Bob is being honest, they seem almost shy, like you're harboring feelings for the ex-congressman.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asks, and without thinking, he reaches out and feels your forehead. You're too warm. Bob ignores that slight stutter his heart gives when you lean into his touch. She's sick, nothing more.

"What time is it?"

Bob leaves his hand on your forehead when he answers. "Past 10."

"The nighttime one?"

He grins. "No, the daylight one."

Suddenly, you're bolting up, resulting in a coughing fit, and Bob is trying to gently push you back down. "Oh my god, Bob. Yelena is waiting for me," you hack out as Bob pulls the covers to your chin.

"Yeah, don't worry about her," he soothes and hands you a tissue when he senses you're about to sneeze.

If you weren't so sick, you would feel embarrassed to have Bob see you in such a state. You loudly blow your nose, you're about to hide the tissue when Bob reaches out and takes it from you.

You grimace. "Bob..." How can he casually hold your snotty tissue like that and look at you in such a soft way?

"No worries," he replies as he glances at your nightstand and sees you don't have any water.

He's pulling away, about to head back to the kitchen to get you water and tea, when you reach out lightning fast and latch onto his wrist. He first looks down at your hand wrapped around his wrist and then to your face. You're more alert now, eyes slightly wide, almost panicked.

"Where are you going?" you ask.

Bob picks up on your tone. "Hey, it's okay. I'm just gonna get you something to drink. You want your usual tea?"

You relax at his words. "Yeah, that would be great."

Bob gives you a smile before heading out the door. When Bob returns to the kitchen, Yelena is still there, almost done eating the pile of your pancakes.

"How's our patient?" she questions through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Sick, but compliant," he replies as he gets started on making your tea.

Yelena grins at his back. "Compliant, huh?"

"You just need to work on that gentle touch, Lena."

"Or maybe I need to turn into you," she mutters, but Bob still hears her.

In no time, Bob has a tray all ready for you. Water, tea, medicine, the last pancake (reheated), and cough drops.

"Look at you, boyfriend material," Yelena teases.

"Shut up."

When Bob returns to your room, you're sitting up, messing with the T.V. remote.

"Hey, you should be lying down," Bob says as he kicks the door shut.

You lean back against the pillows and say, "I am."

Bob rolls his eyes as he approaches you, and you eye the tray in his hand.

"Is that a pancake?"

Bob smiles as he sets the tray on your lap, and you quickly grab the pancake before shoving it into your mouth. If Bob knew you had an appetite, he would've hidden the pancakes from Yelena.

"Mhh," you sigh, closing your eyes. "You make the best pancakes."

Bob watches you, secretly preening at the compliment you gave him. You must be sick if you're complimenting him.

"It's just pancakes," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No," you counter, but don't explain further. Bob pulls up the large beany bag and takes a seat next to your bed.

You frown, watching him, and pat the space next to you. "Just sit here." You scoot over a little.

"You sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I weren't," you reply. Bob catches the slight sass in your voice.

"I'm just making sure you don't punch me in the face," he jokes as he joins you on the bed. Immediately, you're met with warmth radiating off him, and you scoot closer.

"Why would you think I'd punch you?"

"Lena said something this morning."

Realization dawns on your face. "Yeah, well, you didn't try literally yanking me off the bed this morning."

Bob stifles a laugh. "She didn't."

"She did. I mean, it's Lena, she's not the patient person."

Bob is leaning back when something is pressing against his lower back. He reaches behind him and pulls out something that surprises him. You look over and see what he's holding, and you try to grab it from him, but he holds it away from you with a teasing smile.

"Wait, you still have this?" He's referring to a gag gift he gave everyone for Christmas. He got everyone a knockoff Labubu, but customized it into a plushie. Each one he gave the team was supposed to resemble them.

Alexei was the only one who vocally and legitimately said he loved the plushie. Ava gave a phony smile. Bucky wasn't sure what to make of it. Bob is pretty sure John gave his to his son. Yelena lied and said she hated it, but Bob knows she secretly loves it, and you... well you didn't say anything.

"Bob! Give it back."

"Not until you tell me why you still have it?" he questions with a slight laugh.

"Be nice to me. I'm sick." You're still trying to grab the dark brown Labubu, but Bob's arm is too long, and you're too sick to properly fight him for it.

"I'm always nice to you," he teases and finally drops it into your lap and watches as you snatch it up and cuddle it against your chest. "Damn, I didn't think you'd actually like it."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Bob says the first thing on his mind. "You're not the easiest person to read."

Then he regrets saying it the moment the words are out of his mouth. This is the first time you've been so open with him, and he's worried he's ruined the progress he's made with you.

"Sorry," you reply, looking down at the Labubu, stroking its fur, a soothing mechanism for you.

Bob reaches and places a hand on top of yours. He waits until you meet his gaze. "Don't apologize. It's not a bad thing, ya know," he reassures.

Instead, you say, "Of course I like it. It's a gift from you."

And that's enough for Bob, at least for now. He knows he'll get there with you. One day, you'll fully let your walls down. You're starting too already, but he's sure it's because you're sick. But he'll take it.

"Not going all soft on me, are you?" Bob teases, bumping your shoulder with his.

You give that small, soft smile that Bob loves to see and return the shoulder bump. "Never."

Bob makes sure you take the medicine, and he keeps asking if the tea is okay. Even though it is.

You're feeling a little drowsy from the medicine, and you feel yourself leaning into Bob.

He's so warm, his sweater is soft, and he smells nice, and you can't help but want to get closer to him. Bob tries to relax when he feels your head find a home in the crook of his neck.

You put on some mindless cooking show, and he certainly isn't paying attention. All he can focus on is your breath hitting the side of his neck and how you've wrapped your arms around his. Bob chances it and reaches out, intertwining your fingers together.

You don't pull away, and soon he hears your soft snores.

It feels like you've just fallen asleep when you feel you're being moved and losing your source of warmth. You crack an eye open and see Bob is gently untangling himself from you. He's about to pull his hand from yours when you tighten your grip.

"Hey, go back to sleep."

"Where are you going now?" you slightly whine, trying to pull him back down.

"Your stomach is grumbling."

"So?"

He laughs. "So, I'm going to make you some soup."

"You're leaving me?"

"Uh... yeah?"

"For how long?"

Bob grins. "I dunno. An hour."

"An hour?! You're abandoning me?"

Bob reaches out to touch the side of your face. Again, you lean into his touch. "I can't have you starving, can I?"

You contemplate his words. "I guess, but I was warm," you mutter, reluctantly letting his hand go.

Bob laughs, ruffling your hair. He's about to say something when your door bursts open. It's Yelena.

"Food delivery and an apology," she sings, waving a white paper bag around. The smell of soup wafts towards Bob.

"Lena, you didn't have to. And I should be the one apologizing to you," you reply, sitting up.

"We're even. I mean, I did drag you from bed in your sick state." Yelena passes the bag over to Bob and eyes you two. "You two look cozy."

"Bob is my personal heater," you reply, before he can say anything.

"I see," she says with a sly smile. "Anyway, enjoy, you two." And then she's gone.

"Oh, good, now you don't have to leave me," you say, as Bob passes over the soup.

"Who knew you were this clingy when sick?" Bob mutters.

"Does it bother you?"

"Not in the slightest."

Your cold lasts a week, and Bob doesn't leave your side for a moment. Except for kitchen runs, and even then, sometimes you're coming with him all bundled up in blankets. Of course, he carries you because you're sick.

Notes: First Bob fic, enjoy! :)

[ghostgirlwrites]

Alone On Christmas Eve - Bob Floyd x Reader

summary: 2,000 miles from your best friend Bob and 3,500 miles from family, the holidays feel impossibly quiet. A “virtual Christmas” with Bob seems like a lifeline—two lonely people keeping each other company. But when it dawns on you that Bob may not be as alone as you are, you’re left wondering how to survive what that means.

warnings: a bit of angst (I mean, this is me, who are we kidding), fluff, reader drinking wine, the AirTrain from JFK, New York City at Christmas

author's note: This is my submission for a very lewmagoo holiday - please go check out their writing it's truly sublime!

Ask any New Yorker and they’ll tell you that New York at Christmas is both a blessing and a curse. The beauty of the crisp air, Christmas decorations, and twinkling lights offset by the bustle of locals and tourists alike moving in and out of shops, pushing onto subways and scurrying through the busy streets. 

And for the most part, you’d agree…as long as you didn’t think too hard about what your plans were for the actual holiday. 

You’d normally spend it with your family, suffering through long held traditions with your equally adult sister. But since last year that same sister had been married, to a wonderful man from the UK, and your Christmas plans had gone out the window when his family invited yours to their country house to celebrate the holiday alongside them. 

Your grand plans to join them had a wrench thrown in them when your request for PTO had been denied. With a heavy implication that if sick days were used it would be the final sick days you had at the company. 

So you were set to spend the Christmas holiday alone in your tiny apartment, away from everyone you loved. And you’d been trying really hard not to let it get to you. 

When you had mentioned your predicament on your bi-weekly check in with Bob you’d been selfishly relieved to learn that he was booked to work over the holiday. Misery loves company as they say. He’d had the genius idea to spend Christmas Day together virtually, one long FaceTime of watching movies, opening presents and cooking together even though you were over 2000 miles away from each other. 

Bob had also suggested a few FaceTime calls on Christmas Eve - to be together as much as possible before calling at the stroke of midnight to ring in the start of Christmas Day together. 

Your phone rings just as you’re settling onto the couch with your first cup of Christmas Eve coco, the quiet apartment echoing with that soft holiday loneliness you’ve been trying to ignore.

When you see Bob’s picture light up your home screen, the gloom lifts instantly.

“Morning,” you say, smiling before you can help it.

“Hey, trouble,” he replies, voice warm in the way that makes something in your chest loosen, in a way that a friend’s voice should not affect you.

You’d been up late texting about your “virtual Christmas” plans, arguing over which order to watch movies, when you’d open the presents you’d shipped to each other, and just how many Netflix Christmas romcoms Bob would actually let you get away with watching. You’d both wanted to make the best of spending the holiday regardless of the fact an entire country sat between you.

“You promised me Christmas Eve pancakes and FaceTime,” you tease. “Don’t tell me you’re ruining our brand new tradition already.”

There’s a guilty little pause.

“Yeah, uh… FaceTime’s being dumb. The camera's not working, but I can still chat.”

You’re about to tease him again when a burst of background noise cuts through the line, louder than anything you’d ever heard on the rare occasion he’d call you from base.

It doesn’t sound like the skeleton crew of a military base on a holiday. It’s loud, like people talking, overlapping voices, shuffling, an occasional loudspeaker chime.

“Wow,” you frown. “Didn’t think base would be this busy on Christmas Eve. Don’t most people go home?”

There’s another pause, one that makes something ugly stir in your chest, before Bob inhales.

“Yeah,” you can practically see his gears turning. “I - I’m not actually on base right now,” he says, attempting to be casual and failing spectacularly. 

Your breath catches, the tiniest stutter of hurt sparking under your ribs.

“Oh,” you say, carefully neutral. “So you're busy?”

“I, I’m just… uh-”

He stumbles and you can hear more noise in the background as he tries to stammer out an explanation. Then a voice, decidedly female, comes through his speaker. It’s faint, sporadic words clear enough to carry through the phone. 

“Please…someone special…Christmas…”

Your whole body goes still and your heart drops further into your stomach. You can tell she’s talking directly to him, close enough where you can hear the cheerfulness behind her voice. 

“Oh,” you say again, smaller this time. “You… really are busy.”

“What? No- no, darlin’, it’s not-” Bob’s voice tightens with panic. “Hold on, I didn’t mean— that wasn’t—”

The woman’s voice interrupts again, “Enjoy…,” and you feel the ground shift beneath you.

He has plans, he’s with someone right now. You shake your head at yourself, the pit in your stomach turning to lead.

Of course he has plans. Bob is kind and gentle and loyal and everything that makes someone easy to love. You know that well.

And you?

You’re just the best friend who he felt too guilty to leave alone on Christmas Eve.

Your throat squeezes tight. “Bob, it’s okay. Really. I don’t want to keep you—”

“No,” he blurts. “No…it’s not what you think. I swear I’m not—”

He cuts himself off, swears softly.

“Something’s… I just— damn it. I have to go. Just for a bit. I’ll call you back in an hour. I promise. An hour.”

“Bob, really it’s - ”

But he hangs up before you can finish.

You sit there, phone pressed to your ear long after the call ends, heart thudding in your chest like you’ve been dropped from a height.

An hour passes.

Then two.

Then three.

No call.

No text.

Nothing.

And with every quiet minute, the painful thoughts thread deeper into your chest.

He has plans with someone and he didn’t tell you because he felt bad. He’s probably off somewhere meeting someone’s family, pulled into conversation after conversation with doting relatives and unable to call you back. 

Your thoughts sour at the fact that he felt like he had to placate you, that he obviously felt terrible that you were alone and was trying to do too much to make everyone in his life happy. 

But there you were 2,000 miles away, alone in your apartment, Christmas lights twinkling as any remnants of Christmas cheer left your body in a fell swoop. 

And through all of it all you could think, was that you were an idiot to fall in love with your best friend.

---

Hours later your phone screen lights up with Bob’s picture just as you’re finishing your third glass of wine. You’d been saving it for a special occasion but you told yourself that your self pitying Christmas Eve definitely merited it. 

“Hey,” you say, too brightly, desperately attempting to sound normal.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

“Darlin’, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear on you.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, another desperate attempt at normal. “You don’t have to apologize. If you have plans tonight or tomorrow…really, you don’t have to keep checking in with me. I’ll be okay.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence before he says, firm and almost offended,

“What? No. I want to spend the day with you. That’s the whole point.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Bob—”

“No,” he interrupts, voice hardening in that rare way that means he’s fighting panic, not anger. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull away from me. I’ve been looking forward to Christmas with you for weeks.”

The conviction in his voice hits you so hard it almost sobers you…almost.

You soften. “Okay. I just… I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“Darlin’,” he says gently, “you’re not keeping me from anything.”

But before you can respond, a burst of noise floods the line — muffled voices, movement, something metallic clattering. You hear someone call something in the background, too far away to make out.

Bob curses under his breath.

“What’s going on?” you ask, brow furrowing.

He hesitates, and that’s how you know he’s lying even before he speaks.

“Something came up on... base,” he says, too quickly. “I’ve gotta handle it. I’ll call you back soon.”

The lie hits you like a slap.

You hear it immediately - the slight hitch, the way his voice tightens, the delay before base. You can still make out that faint, echoing murmur behind him. That is not base. You know how his world sounds.

You let out a humorless little laugh. 

“You don’t have to make up excuses, Bob. It’s fine. Really. Go do whatever you were going to do. You don’t actually owe me your whole Christmas. We’re not—”

You stop yourself before you say it.

We’re not anything.

There’s a beat of silence, and then his voice comes through, rougher than before. “That’s not what this is. I’m not—I’m not ditching you, okay? I— damn it.”

Someone says something in the background, muffled but clearly urgent.

He covers the receiver with his hand, you can tell by the way his voice dulls, talking briefly to someone else.

A hot, sour twist of jealousy curls in your chest.

“Look,” you say, blinking away the prick of tears. “Just… go. It’s fine. I get it. It's okay, I'll talk to you later.”

You don’t wait for an answer — the wine and the ache and the long day that’s barely even fading into evening finally catching up to you. Your wine heavy fingers slip over the end button. You clench your hands, one still gripping your phone, and lightly bang them against your forehead in frustration.

You’re tipsy and tired and hurt, and the room feels a little too warm, your face a little too hot, your chest a little too tight.

You drag the hand not holding your phone over your eyes. “God, I’m so stupid,” you say to the empty room. “Of course he has plans. Of course he’s with someone. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s perfect.”

The words tumble out, slurred with emotion and alcohol.

“I cannot believe I went and fell in love with my best friend and now I’m jealous of whoever he’s spending Christmas Eve with. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

There’s a sharp sound from the phone still clutched in your hand. Time seems to slow as you hear a voice on the other end, as the loud exclamation radiates through the device in your hand. The one that had been right next to your face while you declared your love for Bob to your empty apartment. 

“Wait,” Bob says, voice suddenly right there, radiating through the phone speaker, wrecked. “Wait, what did you just say?”

You freeze.

Your heart stops. Your blood stops. Time stops.

You stare at the phone like it’s grown teeth.

Slowly, with numb fingers, you bring it to your ear. “Bob?”

He sounds like he’s been punched “What did you just say?”

His voice is desperate and your stomach drops to the floor. “Oh my God.” You press your free hand over your face. “Oh my God. I thought I hung up. I’m - I’m drunk, okay? Ignore me. I’m just… saying stupid things. Just…forget it.”

There’s more noise behind him now — hurried footsteps, someone calling out instructions, a distant “Sir, we need—” before the sound muffles again. He’s clearly moving, being pulled somewhere else.

You can hear movement again — someone calling his name in the background, urgency in their tone. He’s being pulled away. Fast.

“Darlin', don’t hang up,” Bob rushes, breath uneven. “Please - we need to talk about this. I need to—”

“Bob, it was nothing. I shouldn’t have said it.” Your voice cracks. “Just forget it, okay?”

“No,” he says immediately, desperate. “Please. Don’t do that. Don’t— I need—”

He breaks off as another voice cuts in, closer this time, urgent and insistent. It’s muddled through the phone, but you can tell it’s directed at him.

He exhales sharply, frustrated. “Shit. I have to - I have to go. But I don’t - I don’t want to leave it like this. I heard you. I heard what you said.”

You can feel your entire world tilting. It’s too much. Too raw. Too exposed.

“Please, Bob.” Your voice comes out small, but there’s a desperate edge to it. “Just go. Pretend it never happened, okay? You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to feel guilty. Or… obligated. Just -” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Just go.”

“Darlin’, listen to me—”

“Bye, Bob.” Your thumb slams the end call button before he can finish, sure this time as it makes the line go dead. 

You drop the phone onto the cushion like it burned you, heart racing, tears blurring your vision as the silence crashes in.

“Fuck,” you whisper to your empty apartment. 

You’ve ruined it, you think. You’ve ruined everything. And for the first time that night, the silence feels unbearable as you feel so incredibly alone.

He doesn’t call back.

You watch dumb Christmas movies and pop another bottle of wine while trying not to stare at your phone begging it to ring while watching the clock click closer to midnight. The loneliness creeping closer with every minute burned.

You and Bob had agreed that, no matter what you were doing at the time, you’d be on the phone together at midnight so you could both say you started Christmas together and not alone. 

But of course, that was before your ill timed confession. 

You had half a mind to go to bed. To put your phone on Do Not Disturb and try to sleep as long as possible tomorrow to avoid the fact that you were going to be alone on Christmas, and that you’d ruined years of friendship with one stupid drunken comment. 

You watch the minutes tick closer to midnight, each one passing causing your heart to drop more. 

When your phone switches from 11:59 to 12:00 you finally let a few tears fall, resigned to the fact that come tomorrow, everything would be different.

You’re about to push yourself off the couch to go faceplant into your bed when there’s a knock at the door. You scrub your tears away, debating on even answering it - no doubt it was a drunken neighbor or some poor delivery driver at the wrong apartment.

Another hard knock rings through the apartment and you sigh, pulling yourself together and heading towards the door.

You open it to find Bob - standing there, out of breath, covered in snow, bag in hand - looking at you like you’re the only thing he needs in life.

“I really tried to get here before midnight. But my first flight got delayed and then my second flight got held on the tarmac and the AirTrain stopped running -”

He’s cut off by you throwing your arms around him, uncaring of the melting snow on his pea coat and squeezing him tight. He lets out a breath like all the weight of the day has lifted off his shoulders and lets his arms encircle you, holding you close. 

You pull him into your apartment with tears in your eyes as the day catches up to you all at once, all the pieces finally sliding into place. His FaceTime “not working”, the noise of the airport terminal on the other line, the fact that he couldn’t stay on the phone because he had to board his final flight. Not being able to call when he was in the air. 

And then your mind screeches to a halt on the last conversation you had with him and heat spreads from your face down to your toes at your unintentional love confession. 

As if he can see where your mind is going he smiles at you. 

“Did you mean it?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire and you avert your gaze, looking anywhere but him. When you don’t answer he takes a breath, dropping his bag in your front hall and shucking off his peacoat, like he wants to be totally prepared for the conversation you’re about to have.

“Do you know how hard that flight was? Knowing what you said and not being able to continue talking about it? Not being able to say it back the way I wanted to… the way you deserved?”

Your brain struggles to understand what he’s saying.

“What?”

“God, I had this whole big speech planned on the flight over here and I can’t remember a single word of it,” he rubs the back of his neck self consciously. “I know you said you were drunk, so if you were and you didn’t mean it, we can just forget it if that’s what you want…”

His hand reaches out for yours, tentative as he holds it, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand in a way that has your breath catching in your throat. He looks nervous but determined and your heart skips in your chest at the look in his eyes. 

“But if you did mean it… god I really hope you did. You should know that I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t remember what my it was like when I wasn’t. You’re the most important person in my life and this past year has made me realize that I’m tired of waiting.. tired of not taking a chance."

He takes a deep breath, and the world seems to narrow - heat and determination flaring behind his glasses, leaving you rooted where you stand.

"So sweetheart, this is me laying it out there - I’m in love with you and I want to be with you, if you’ll have me. I don’t know how it’s going to work but gosh I’m willing to try.”

For a heartbeat, the only sound is the faint hum of your heater and the soft drip of melting snow. You can feel your pulse in your fingertips.

Then you step forward, reaching up to rest your hand against his chest, his heart beating hard under your palm. “I meant it,” you whisper. “Every word.”

Something in his face crumples - relief, wonder, love - and he exhales like it’s the first full breath he’s taken all day. His hands come up to frame your face, gentle and reverent, and he presses his forehead to yours.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, voice rough. You smile, tears spilling freely now. “You know,” you try to joke, “You almost made it in time.”

“Still counts,” he says softly. “Christmas doesn’t start without you.”

You laugh, quiet and breathless, and let yourself lean into him. The two of you stand there for a long moment, tangled together, snow melting into the carpet, the world outside hushed and white.

And, as his lips finally dip down to meet yours, for the first time all night, neither of you feels alone.

a/n: is this the first story I've ever written that doesn't have smut? Yes. Do I love it? Also yes. Will I potentially write a part 2 with smut if y'all want it? Also also yes.

Happy Holidays y'all!

[ghostgirlwrites]

Roostering It (Part 2)

Part 1

Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: After years of friendship, you finally decide it’s now or never to confess your feelings to Bob—only to have him appear at the Hard Deck, hand-in-hand with someone else.

a/n: I also hurt my own feelings writing this.

warnings: panic attack, AGNST, like… so much angst, feelings of low self worth, spiraling thoughts, self doubt, Bob x oc in bed (not graphic but implied), like… one or two uses of Y/N - IM SORRY, everything is FINE, Bob kinda sucks in this one but like not on purpose, also why do I like low key love Hangman in this? IDK probably more warnings so read at your own risk.

___________________

Time didn’t slow down, logically you knew this, but right now it sure as hell felt like it did. It took your brain a moment to process and when it did your body flashed hot and then ice cold, your legs turning numb the way they did when you experienced an adrenaline rush. Your heart pounded against your chest and you were sure that you could hear your blood rushing through your veins. 

Bob seemed to be unaware of your internal breakdown and he continued smiling at you with that adoring grin. The one you had mistakenly thought was directed towards you. 

“She’s coming here tonight and I wanted you and the crew to meet her,” he glanced at his phone again with a smile. “She should be here in like 5 minutes, you’re going to absolutely love her.”

You followed him as if in a trance as he walked back to the pool table, your drink abandoned on the bar as he continued telling you about her. He stopped abruptly almost causing you to run into him and his hand reached out to steady you.

“Whoa, you ok?”

It was as if someone else was controlling your body as you nodded your head, giving him a weak smile and looking past him so as to not meet his eyes. 

“Sorry, you said you had something to tell me too…” he trailed off expectantly, looking for you to fill him in. 

You gave your head a small shake, forcing the haze from your mind. All those feelings you’d foolishly let yourself nurture were shoved back into a box, locked tight, so you could at least pretend to be normal.

“Nothing,” you croaked and cleared your throat. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m excited to meet her, Bob, what’s her name?”

The words were ash on your tongue but you pushed through. This was your own damn fault. Of course someone out there would also see what a catch your best friend was. Of course they would fall in love with his kind soul, sarcastic personality, and sharp wit.

You had waited too long, been too scared to mess everything up, and now it was too late. 

“Who’s name?” Phoenix pipped up from her hightop table next to you. 

“Bob’s new girl!” Your attempt at excitement was passable, but Phoenix’s keen eyes shot to you and yours glanced away, not able to meet them.

You had to do this, you had to be the good best friend, Bob could never know. 

“Bob has a girlfriend?” Hangman blurted, his surprise loud enough to draw a few looks.

“Easy there big guy, don’t need to announce it to the whole bar,” you tried to joke. 

“So he finally made his move huh,” your blood turned to ice as his gaze darted between you and Bob, the assumption clear. You shook your head ever so slightly, begging him not to push it. 

“Yeah,” you forced out a laugh before Bob could respond, chest tightening. “She’s swinging by to meet us all soon, so be on your best behavior, Seresin.”

You wagged a finger at him in mock warning, even as the ache in your chest deepened. The moment Jake realized what you meant, pity flickered across his face, and heat rushed to your cheeks when his gaze caught yours. 

Unable to bear the look, you quickly turned back to Bob.

“Can’t wait to meet her, dude. Brave of you to bring her to meet these idiots though.”

Bob laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well I wanted to make sure she gets along with the team before things got too serious.”

You knew realistically that hearts couldn’t actually break, but you could have sworn you felt yours cleaving in two at the genuinely happy smile on his face. The rest of the squad was pelting him with questions and although you didn’t want to know, you couldn’t help but listen, torturing yourself even further. 

How long had they been dating? What was her name? Where did they meet? The questions didn’t stop coming and you listened in horrible fascination as he answered each one. 

A month, but just made it official last week. Leah. At a coffee place right around the corner from your townhome. 

The following half hour played out like a fever dream, a chorus of cheers going up from the squad when she strolled up to the table and placed a kiss on Bob’s cheek, causing him to flush red at the attention. You weren’t entirely sure what you said when she shook your hand with a genuine smile on her face, but it mustn’t have been anything out of the ordinary based on her genuinely nice reaction. You watched as she met the team, easily joining into the conversation like she was meant to be there. 

You waited until everyone was distracted grilling them both, wanting to know every detail, before slipping quietly out the door. 

The moment your feet hit the deck the pressure inside you threatened to burst. Your chest clenched, tears stung your eyes, and your breath came in short panicked gasps as you gripped the railing for support.

It felt like drowning, like an elephant pressing down on your ribs, every inhale a losing battle. 

You spiraled, thoughts clawing at you, cruel and unrelenting.

Weak. 

A coward. 

If you had told him sooner it could have been different. 

Worthless. 

Even if you had told him, why would he want you? 

Desperate. 

Disappointing. 

Pathetic.

Your vision started to go black around the edges as your body was deprived of oxygen when a pair of arms encircled you, pulling you into a muscled chest and grounding you in reality.

“Whoa, whoa, just breath Fury, deep breaths,” Jake fucking Seresin of all people held you as you fell apart.

You sucked in a ragged breath, barely any of it making its way to your lungs and wrenched yourself away from him, not wanting any of your team members to see you like this.

“I’m,” you rasped out, attempting another breath but getting nothing, your lungs burning, “fine.”

“Sure you are,” the sarcasm in his voice was overshadowed by the concern. “Hey look at me, okay?” 

If you had been in a better mental state you would have balked at the soft concern in his voice. 

“Just try breathing with me, alright? Inhale 4 seconds, hold 7, exhale 4, easy as breath-” he cut himself off, “easy as pie”. Come on, inhale,” you tried desperately to pull air into your lungs but it stuttered and you let it out with a harsh whoosh, your chest tightening even more. 

“You got it,” his palm rested over your sternum, “inhale,” he started counting and you tried again, getting in a little more air this time.

You weren’t sure how long it took for your breathing to even out, but by the time it did you were emotionally and physically drained. You angrily scrubbed the tears that had fallen during your panic attack from your face and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your jacket. 

Embarrassment set in quickly as Jake continued to soothe you, stroking up and down your arm to help you relax. You took a step away from him, hugging your arms to your chest.

“Sorry,” you croaked. “Thanks…thank you for helping with that.” 

You could feel the heat from your cheeks as you evaded eye contact. You could practically hear the taunting now, the harsh remarks about why you weren’t cut out for a cockpit. Instead he just shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“I may have some,” he held his fingers up to gesture to a small amount, “ experience with panic attacks myself.”

At that your gaze snapped to his, waiting for the other shoe to drop but all you saw was raw honesty. You dropped your arms from around yourself, forcing your shoulders back and your head up as you grasped for some semblance of self control. 

“Well like I said, thanks. I understand if you feel obligated to report this to command, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone on the squad.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“You really do think the worst of me don’t you? Look, I may come off as an asshole pilot that’s the best in the game, because I am, but I’m not an asshole about stuff like this. Your secret is safe with me.”

You sighed and nodded in thanks.

“As is your undeniable love for sweet Baby on Board,” you swung around and landed a hard punch to his bicep.

“Fuck off! That’s not…that wasn’t why…” you trailed off as your cheeks flared again and he let out a warm laugh. 

“Oh come on, man. He is literally the only one who doesn’t know!” 

You forced your face into neutrality though your stomach dropped at the fact that apparently everyone else had seen it. That you had been so embarrassingly obvious.

You glanced back towards the bar.

“Not like it matters now.” 

Jake sighed and leaned his forearms against the railing, looking out at the Pacific. 

“You Roostered It, waited too long to take your shot,” you let out a snort at that and hip checked him as you also leaned against the railing, letting the cooler night breeze dry the sweat that was still clinging to the back of your neck. 

“You’re just happy you can use Rooster as a verb, you loser.” 

He grinned at you and nodded.

“Guilty. So, what are you going to do?” 

You shook your head, watching the waves crash onto the shore as the moonlight reflected off the surface of the water. 

“Nothing. He’s my - he’s my best friend, so I’m going to try and be happy for him.” 

“Oh come on, you sure you don’t want to march in there and just plant one on him?”

Part of you was tempted.

“Did you see how happy he looked? He was so excited to introduce her to us. I can’t stand in the way of that.” “You’re a better man than me then,” you punched him on the arm again.

“Also not a man, asshat,” Jake laughed and put his arm around you, pulling you close to him and giving you a noogie which you swatted away. 

“For what it’s worth, and I’m saying this totally as a friend and NOT in a flirty way, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

You smiled and shook your head at him, a gentle understanding and camaraderie forming between the two most unlikely of teammates. 

Neither of you noticed the spectator just inside the deck doors. 

Bob’s gaze fell on Jake’s arm around you, the easy smiles you shared, and a sudden, unfamiliar weight pressed on his chest. His stomach knotted, his heart thudding in a way that made no sense, and a strange heat rose up the back of his neck.

He couldn’t name it, didn’t understand it, but it rooted him in place, eyes fixed on you two. He finally pushed away from the door and turned back to the crowd, and to the woman waiting for him at the bar, a drink in hand and a smile on her face.

_______

As you walked into the training room the following morning your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with Bob, zeroing in on your usual seat behind him and Phoenix. You had successfully avoided him since the bar, locking yourself in your room and leaving early this morning to go for a run and grab breakfast before heading straight to base, forgoing the ride he usually gave you. 

He turned around with a narrowed gaze and you cocked your head in response.

“So where’d you disappear to last night?”

You plopped down in your seat with a groan, massaging your head which was pounding with a post-cry migraine. You prayed that he didn’t notice the puffiness around your eyes.

“Good morning to you too, Bobby.” 

You could practically feel Phoenix’s eyes burning a hole through your head which you studiously ignored, pressing down on your temples and willing the ache behind your eyes to dissipate. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” your eyes snapped open at the sharpness in his tone, narrowing your gaze right back at him. 

“Well sorry I didn’t realize I had to run all my movements by you, Mr. Bossman. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? Jesus Christ.”

Bob opened his mouth to no doubt snark something back but Phoenix beat him to it, side eyeing her back seater like he’d grown a second head. 

“I think what Bob is very rudely and weirdly trying to say is that we were worried about you. You just Irish exited without saying goodbye.”

“I wasn’t feeling great,” not a lie. “I went outside to get some fresh air and figured I’d call it a night so Jake drove me home.”

Phoenix’s eyebrows flew up at that bit of information and Bob sputtered. 

“Hangman drove you home?” he said, incredulous, like he still couldn’t wrap his head around the guy doing something selfless.

With the most impeccable timing the man himself walked through the door, a toothpick hanging carelessly out of one side of his mouth. 

“You say that like I don’t drive pretty ladies home almost every night, Bob-o.”  

Bob scoffed and you rolled your eyes at the insinuation.

“In your dreams, Seresin,” he winked at you and you gave him an unimpressed stare back.

“You sure are, sweetheart.” 

“Pig,” You threw your pen at him, glaring when he caught it and shoved it behind his ear before taking a seat. 

His ridiculous antics, which normally grated on your last nerve, made you chuckle and Bob’s eyes bugged out of his head at the sound. He looked between you and Hangman like he was trying to compute an impossible equation but before he could ask, Maverick stepped into the room and everyone turned their attention to him. 

The briefing passed in a blur, and before long, the room had emptied out again.

“Dude, did you pay attention to anything that we just covered?”

Bob glanced up from where his gaze was trained on his empty notebook to find Phoenix staring at him. He glanced around and realized the classroom had cleared out while he was daydreaming.

“Hello?” she waved her hand in front of his face and he flushed, scrambling to shove his notebook into his bag and stand up. 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

Phoenix eyed him warily and shook her head.

“Are you ok? You were on a different planet during that briefing.”

Bob felt shame wash through him at the fact that he hadn’t, in fact, paid a lick of attention to Maverick for the entire 30 minutes they were there. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. What’d I miss?” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck avoiding Phoenix’s gaze.

“Are you sick?” Her hand came up to his forehead to check for a temperature and he swatted it away. “I’ve never seen you miss even a sentence in that room let alone an entire briefing. What gives, man?”

“I’m not sick. I just… had a lot on my mind.” 

“Dude, were you daydreaming about your new girlfriend during briefing? Not cool, Bob.”

He sputtered and blushed, shaking his head in denial as he followed her out of the room. 

“What? No of course not! I just…” he trailed off and Phoenix gestured for him to continue. “Do you think Fury and Hangman hooked up?”

Phoenix bit back a smile and continued walking, shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know. Would it matter if they did?”

Bob unclenched his jaw and shook his head.

“I suppose not,” he continued walking towards the locker rooms. “I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes at her oblivious backseater. 

“She’s a grown ass woman, I think she can handle herself.”

“I know that. Hangman is just an asshole and I’ve seen the way he treats the women he brings home.”

“I don’t know, those girls always come out of his place in the morning looking like they won the lottery.”

Bob sputtered and gaped at her.

“Phoenix!”

She laughed and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“What? All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be the worst thing for her to get laid! And he seems to know how to treat a lady well, if you know what I mean.” 

Bob followed her into the parking lot, not liking the feeling in his stomach, exactly like the one the previous night. He didn’t bother to think too hard about why his chest felt tight at the thought of Hangman and his best friend together like that.

_______

You had given yourself 24 hours.

One full day to crash out and lose your absolute shit about the fact that Bob had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you. 24 hours to cry, yell, drink, and disassociate before you got your shit together and tried to make things go back to normal like the grown ass adult you were.

You were great at compartmentalization - you’d be fine after you shoved all your Bob-related feelings into a deep deep dark box inside you.

That night you had a date with yourself, a bottle of wine, and the newest superhero movie. You felt like a gremlin as you laid in your nest of blankets on the couch, attempting to take a sip out of a stemmed glass without spilling wine all down your front. 

Bob was out with his new girlfriend and your thoughts flicked to him, regardless of your futile attempts not to. He was probably the type that would show up with flowers and hold open doors, a gentleman through and through. 

You let out a groan and successfully took a sip of wine without spilling a drop, unable to focus on the television in front of you as your thoughts spiraled, running through your friendship like a twisted movie reel. 

You hadn’t been waiting for him, not exactly, but somewhere deep down, you’d always assumed that Bob would be there in your life. When you pictured the future it was always you and him, side by side no matter what.

Looking back, you really couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to understand why.

His presence was a quiet certainty that had shaped your life in ways you’d never questioned, until now.

The wine left a slow warmth in your chest as you leaned back against the pillow at the arm of the couch. Beneath the haze, a sharper truth took hold: the future you’d always pictured wasn’t waiting for you anymore.

You couldn’t rely on him anymore. Not in the way you wanted to. Whatever came next had to be yours. You’d make sure of it.

And as Mr. Fantastic droned on about dimensions and spaceships, something steadier than hope flickered in your chest. Not a dream, not a wish, just… resolve. A path, still forming, that you would walk on your own.

______

The next few weeks were…hard. Hard in a way that you’d never imagined they would be with your best friend. You tried to keep things normal, truly you really did.

You still woke up at the crack of dawn to run along the beach together, carpooled to base with him, picked up his coffee order, joked with the rest of the crew in between learnings, training, and flight time. You still sassed each other over comms and teamed up to make fun of Hangman when he shrieked at the spider that crawled across his nav display. 

You’d even gone to dinner with him and Leah, pretending it was easy, that it didn’t twist something in your chest to watch them side by side. You laughed when you were supposed to, matched her banter, and let the wine do the rest. You played the dutiful best friend flawlessly, while something in you splintered, slow and quiet.

The worst part? You liked Leah. 

She was sweet and funny and clearly head over heels for your best friend. 

She asked insightful questions, remembered small details, and made a real effort to know you. All because she knew you mattered to him.

The squad had taken to her as well, and she was able to hold her own with the best of them like she was meant to be there, carving out a space that you hadn’t realized you were holding for yourself. 

It would’ve been easier if she were some sort of evil villain - self-centered, rude, dismissive. But she wasn’t. And somehow, that made it worse.

So the weeks turned into months and with each forced laugh or kiss goodbye you had to watch you could feel yourself slowly slipping away.

-----

Bob wasn’t stupid. He knew things had been weird between you since he told you about Leah.

It wasn’t obvious, probably only he noticed the changes, but they were there. He watched you laugh at Payback’s joke, your shoulders relaxing just enough to look like your normal self. You joined in the banter, tossed out the occasional playful jab, all perfectly timed, but there was a flicker in your eyes that he couldn’t place. Something nagging at him that he couldn’t put a name to.

He wracked his brain, trying to figure out why you seemed off. He could only think that you were insulted that he didn’t tell you about her sooner. After all you were his best friend and his roommate, you shouldn’t have found out about his newly non-single status at the same time as the rest of your friends.

You had been friends and roommates through plenty of relationships in the past. Back then, things had been easy, your routines together comfortable, predictable, steady. Now, even in ordinary moments, there was a tension to your movements, a carefulness in the way you interacted with him. He noticed the way you hesitated before touching him, the slight pullback when he reached for your shoulder. When you had movie nights, your feet no longer ended up in his lap. You no longer gently woke him up with a brush of his hair off his forehead if he fell asleep on the couch so his neck wouldn’t crick in the morning. 

Something had shifted between you, subtle but undeniable. He could feel it in every silence, every almost. And no matter how he turned it over in his head, he couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong, only that he must have done something. Because the ache in his chest told him he was losing something, and he didn’t even know what it was.

______

It was Thursday and you had just closed the door to the townhouse, calling out as you struggled to balance the pizza boxes and kick off your sneakers.

“They ran out of pepperoni, Bob, pepperoni! What kind of fucking pizza place doesn’t have the most popular pizza topping to ever pizza top!”

You yelled with a smile as you strolled into the kitchen, expecting him to be blending up a batch of his infamous margaritas. It was the first Thursday of the month and neither one of you ever missed your ongoing Thirsty Thursdays tradition. It had survived a decade of cross country moves, Zoom calls, even deployments when possible -using MREs and burnt coffee as stand ins. Nothing stood in the way of tradition when you could help it.

You were met with silence, the house empty as you placed the boxes down on the counter. 

“Bob?”

Silence answered you and you glanced at the clock. Maybe he got held up at work, or needed to run to the liquor store for the good tequila that you insisted on even though it was being mixed. 

You grabbed your phone and sent him a quick text, taking a picture of the pizza boxes, and writing a quick text.

These pizzas are thirsty for some margs, Bob!

The message sent and you pulled open the cabinet, grabbing the blender and hunting for the rest of the margarita ingredients. You whipped up a batch, though they were never as good as his, and poured one for yourself, taking a sip and looking back at your phone. 

The message sat unread. 

You left the pitcher of margs and the pizza on the counter and meandered into the family room, flopping down on the couch and telling yourself that Bob would be here any minute as you turned on the TV. 

He never missed Thirsty Thursdays. 

You tried not to look at your watch as the minutes ticked by, barely paying attention to the Parks and Rec reruns you had put on. You put the melting pitcher in the freezer when he was 15 minutes late, and put the pizza boxes in the oven five minutes later to try and keep them warm.

Your heart sank at the 30 minute mark and you tried to call him, wanting to ensure that he was ok. 

The phone rang twice and went to voicemail and your stomach dropped. He had ignored your call.

Hey dude, are you ok? 

Your text went unanswered again. 

After an hour crawled by, you heated up a slice of pizza and plopped the margarita pitcher in front of you on the coffee table, drowning your sorrows and anger in grease and alcohol.

You had just poured yourself your third drink when your phone lit up, the dumb picture of Bob making a dumb face in the back of your dumb jet from your first go at Top Gun glaring back at you. 

You had half a mind to let it go to voicemail, but there was a small part of you that wanted to ensure that he actually was ok. 

That part won out and you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

“Fuck,” his panicked voice came through the phone. “I am so sorry, Fury! Leah and I were at a movie when you called and my phone went off which is why I ignored the call and I totally forgot today was Thursday until I saw your text after we got out…”

He sounded breathless as he rambled and you could picture the horror on his face as he realized that he had missed your monthly tradition. He was probably pacing back and forth in the lobby of the movie theater, running his hand through his hair in frustration at himself. 

You let him ramble, staying silent as he tried to explain. When he finally trailed off with another heartfelt apology you felt a tightening in your chest. You were so angry, so disappointed, not only at him, but at yourself for getting your hopes up. 

You let out a sigh and sunk into the couch. You’d always had trouble staying mad at him, and now was no different.

“It’s fine, Bob,” you wondered if you sounded as tired as you felt.

“No it’s not. I’m so sorry. You bought pizza and everything…” he trailed off, regret threading through his words. “It’s not that late, I can come home and we can-”

“Bob,” you tried not to snap. You took a calming breath and unclenched your jaw. “It’s 9 o’clock, seriously don’t worry about it. And hey, there’s some leftovers for you for tomorrow so…silver linings.”

Your attempt at a joke fell short and you were met with silence. 

“I promise,” he whispered, “I promise I’ll remember next month, Fury.”

“I know you will, dude, don’t stress about it. Go have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

You didn’t let him respond before hanging up the call, blinking back the stinging behind your eyes and eyeing the pitcher once more. 

From that day on, you started distancing yourself as a means of survival. Not all at once - just small things, the kind that could almost be explained away.

You stopped grabbing morning coffee together before work, he went with Leah now most days anyway, and you told yourself you didn’t mind. You started staying a little later at the gym on base, waiting until you knew he’d already gone home so you didn’t have to sit in the car with him. 

He still texted, still struck up conversation, but it was different. You tried to keep things short and light, tried to distance yourself where possible to save yourself the hurt of disappointment. And when he invited you to join them for dinner or drinks, you made excuses. You told yourself it was easier this way, that maybe you could give yourself room to try and get over him.

Bob noticed too. The empty coffee cups in the mornings, the keys missing from the hook by the door. The quiet where there used to be easy chatter. He thought maybe you were still upset over Thirsty Thursday, maybe you were feeling left out. So he tried to include you more, bringing Leah along to movie night, suggesting the three of you grab breakfast after a late night out.

He thought he was helping. 

But each time Leah sat between you on the couch, or laughed at a line you used to quote with him, something in you tightened a little more. You’d smile, because that’s what you did. Because you refused to be the reason he felt guilty for being happy.

And Bob, seeing you laugh, thought things might be getting better. He didn’t see the way your hands fidgeted under the table, or how you avoided his eyes when Leah leaned against his shoulder.

You were both trying, just in completely different directions.

______

Four months after the night at The Hard Deck that changed everything found you standing in Maverick’s office. He grinned as he took the packet from you, eyebrows raising at the recommendation section.

“You do realize if you’re selected you’ll no longer be a part of this squadron? It’s a total transfer.”

You nodded in acknowledgement.

“I do, Mav.”

“I thought you were happy here lieutenant?”

“I was,” you cut yourself off. “I am happy here, Sir. The chances I’ll even make it to the next round are slim to none but I figured I’d throw my hat in the ring. It’s something that I've always wanted to do, and they opened up applications for the first time in 6 years, so I figured why not.”

Maverick leaned back into his seat and steepled his fingers in front of his face, giving you a once over.

“I’d say you have more than a slim chance, Fury. When do you need this back?”

“March 30th, Sir. Does that mean you’ll provide the recommendation?”

“It would be my honor, Lieutenant. Although when you do end up getting shipped off to Houston I think you’ll break poor Bob’s heart,” he joked and it took everything in you not to wince. 

“Something tells me he’ll be just fine.”

______

The months following were…somehow even more difficult. It was like Bob was determined to make up for his oversight, plying you with coffees and sweet treats, cooking for you whenever he could and taking over the responsibility of driving to work every day so you wouldn’t have to put miles on your already unreliable Jeep.

No matter how many times he apologized you reassured him you weren’t mad, and always tried to change the subject to something else. 

He didn’t realize how much it hurt every time he apologized for forgetting about you, how each apology dug the knife in a bit deeper.

You did your best to act normal, to stay steady and supportive, but it was as if, when Bob missed your standing engagement, something shifted. It was the first crack in a dam that had been holding back more than you wanted to admit. And no matter how hard you tried to keep it together, every small thing he did without realizing only deepened the fracture.

It was a rare rainy day on base, the team was grounded and Mav had been pulled into a meeting with his hire ups, leaving the lot of you lounging around, entertaining yourselves while you waited for quitting time. 

“So, my buddy is having people over on Saturday for a pool party. He’s new in town and wants to meet people, so he told me to bring whoever, so I guess I’ll extend the invite to you losers. Feel free to bring any and everyone.”

The group rolled their eyes at Hangman’s poor attempt at humor and the invite acceptances came rolling in. You were just about to tell him you’d be there when Bob spoke up from his seat to your left.

“I think we can be there.” You almost let out a teasing quip - wow, look at you RSVPing to plans for me - before he continued. “I don’t think Leah has anything going on but I’ll double check and let you know.”

We. 

Him and Leah.

Not him and you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, your chest tightening as your stomach dropped. The words you’d almost said stuck in your throat, hollow and useless. The gang kept chatting, unaware, and everything that had finally started to feel normal now seemed impossibly off. 

_____

A week later Rooster was, yet again, at the piano banging out a tune like he had a million times before. He finished up to a cheer from the crowd and the beginning notes of Piano Man floated across the bar. A wide smile split your face and you instinctively looked for Bob. 

This was your song. Your ride or die. Your, no matter what I’m doing, drop everything and belt at the top of your lungs, ballad. There hadn’t been a single time, a single bar, that the song had played that you and Bob hadn’t thrown your arms around each other and belted the words off key at each other. 

You looked over at him, expecting a matching excited grin on his face, but he was turned away from you. Laughing at something that Leah had whispered into his ear, as if he hadn’t registered the change of tunes. You gave it a few seconds more before the smile dropped from your face and you turned back to the piano, squeezing Rooster on the shoulder in thanks for playing your favorite, forcing a smile back to your lips as Phoenix leaned in and started singing along with you and Rooster.

_____

You’d thought you were holding it together, keeping your real feelings tucked neatly out of sight. But when Bob cornered you at home that night, the look in his eyes told you you hadn’t hidden them nearly as well as you’d hoped.

“Are we okay?”

His voice was small, tired and sad in a way that had you clenching your jaw. You nodded, staring past him to a point on the wall so you wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

“Of course we are,” you lied through your teeth and he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Come on, Y/N, I know something’s wrong. Why won’t you talk to me?”

You could hear the frustration bleed through his words as he frantically tried to catch your gaze and your heart pounded against your ribcage.

“Nothing’s wrong, dude. We’re good. Everything is good. It’s fine.”

He narrowed his gaze at you and your throat tightened. You’d recognize that stubborn look anywhere. The one that meant he wasn’t going to stop before he got answers, no matter what.

“You’re my best friend. You mean…so incredibly much to me. And it’s killing me to know that I did something to upset you. We’re best friends, why won’t you just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!”

Your blood rushed through your veins at his words, at the desperation behind them. They were so, so close to what you desperately wanted to hear. But they’d never be enough, would always stop at ‘best friends’. 

“You didn’t do anything-”

“Bullshit,” he cut you off with a bark. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if to calm himself, reigning himself in.

“You’ll always be my best friend.”

You wished the ache those words caused would dull, just once. He parted his lips to say something else, but the door creaked open. Leah entered, weighed down with grocery bags and blissfully blind to the storm she’d just walked into.

You jumped at the chance to flee and quickly scuttled out of the hall, flashing her a smile and grabbing your keys.

“Oh, are you not joining us? I bought enough for three.”

You could cry at how fucking sweet this woman was, and your guilt weighed heavy as you shook your head.

“That’s so sweet, but I promised Phoenix I’d help her put together some new furniture tonight. You two have fun though!”

You didn’t look Bob’s way but you could feel his piercing gaze, knew that he clocked your lie from a mile away. 

____

It was Friday night and the apartment was quiet. Too quiet. You’d been half-expecting Bob to poke his head in, suggest a movie or a late run to the store to cook dinner like he usually did, but the hours stretched and stretched.

Around nine, you finally gave in and scrolled Instagram.

Phoenix’s photo appeared in your stories and you clicked on it, the first photo blurry, flushed with neon lights and laughter. The whole squad at the bowling alley downtown. Rooster flipping the camera off, Hangman doing his best Blue Steele, Fanboy throwing up a peace sign.

And Bob. Right in the middle.

Leah was tucked into his side, his arm draped casually around her as he grinned at the camera, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

Your heart sank.

You clicked through the story. More photos. More laughter. Everyone was there.

Everyone but you.

You knew, logically, they hadn’t meant to exclude you. They’d probably assumed Bob would tell you. He always told you.

You were notoriously bad at checking text messages and that’s how it normally worked. Someone organized, someone else texted Bob, and you got the invite through him. It had always been seamless, automatic. 

But not tonight.

Tonight, he hadn’t thought to mention it.

You turned your phone off and tossed it onto the couch like it burned, staring at the ceiling until your vision blurred. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to bowl, or drink cheap beer, or laugh until your sides hurt. It was that they’d all gone on being them without you, and the one person you trusted to keep you looped in hadn’t even noticed you were missing. 

An hour later, after you had skulked to your room, the front door creaked open. You held your breath, not making a noise as you listened to Bob ease inside before throwing the lock and kicking off his shoes. His soft footsteps trailed down the hallway and you sucked in a breath as they stopped outside of your closed door. He hesitated there for a moment, like he might wake you, then padded off to his room.

You waited until you heard his door click shut before you let the tears spill.

______

“Okay, Fury’s seriously late,” Phoenix said, squinting at her phone for the tenth time. She was perched on the edge of the booth, nursing her beer as the others laughed around her. “Did she text anyone? She saw my insta story so I know she’s not dead.”

“I called twice,” Hangman said, tossing his phone onto the table. “Straight to voicemail. Maybe she bailed?”

“She wouldn’t just bail,” Rooster said firmly. He thumbed at his phone again, firing off another text. Bob sat stiffly, a pit in his stomach growing with each passing second.

“What’d she say when you told her we moved the time?”

Rooster’s question was innocuous, but for Bob it dropped like a bomb.

The look on his face must’ve said it all, because Hangman groaned loudly. 

“You fucking didn’t invite her? Oh my god, Floyd!”

“I thought,” he stammered. “I thought I mentioned it.”

His heart hammered as he scrambled for an explanation.

“She…she usually just-”

“Shows up because you tell her,” Payback snapped, sharper than usual. “Damn it, Bob.”

Phoenix sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Well, call her now.”

“Her phone’s off,” Bob ignored Coyote as he frantically clicked her contact and pressed the call button. Swearing at her voicemail and trying again and again. 

Hangman shook his head in disappointment and Bob felt like the lowest scum of the Earth as the truth settled heavy over the table.

She wasn’t just missing. She wasn’t just late.

She knew.

And she wasn’t coming.

_____

Bob hadn’t slept. Not really.

Leah had dropped him off with a quick kiss to the cheek and a heartfelt reassurance that everything would work out with you in the morning. He’d given her a weak nod but the whole drive home he couldn’t stop replaying the night, the empty space at his side where you should have been. How quickly the night had come to an end after they realized his mistake.

He tossed and turned as Phoenix’s first words when they all arrived at the bowling alley still echoed in his head.

“Where’s Fury? She’s coming, right?”

Bob had blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah. She should be.”

Except you hadn’t walked in ten minutes later, or thirty, or even an hour after that. He’d shrugged it off, thinking maybe you weren’t comfortable after he tried to ask you what was bothering you. But when Phoenix brought up that you were seriously late, and then Hangman and Rooster had tried calling you, the truth had sunk in with a cold, heavy weight.

He never told you.

He hadn’t passed along the invite like he always did. He’d just…forgotten.

And now, the following morning, sitting on the arm of the couch watching you sip the coffee he’d made you as a peace offering, he wanted to kick himself. You looked tired, drawn, like you hadn’t really slept either. 

But worse than that, you looked guarded. Even more so than you had been the previous months.

“I thought I told you,” he started to say, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. Because deep down, he knew he hadn’t. And the look on your face, the polite, closed-off little smile you gave him in return, felt like a door slamming shut.

What the hell is wrong with me? He thought, guilt gnawing at his gut. You’re my best friend. How could I forget you?

He winced. “I’m sorry. I should’ve… I mean, I just assumed you knew. Everyone else thought you were coming.”

You nodded once, lips pressed tight.

His knee bounced nervously from his perch on the arm of the couch.

“We missed you. Wasn’t the same.”

The words might’ve landed once. Once, you might have given him hell for forgetting to invite you, might’ve held it over his head and demand he do any number of ridiculous things to make it up to you. Once, you would have ribbed him and given him shit while laughing about the fact that you were so bad at checking your phone that Bob was basically your personal assistant. Once, those words would have been the catalyst for friendly apologies and forgiveness. 

But now, they felt like salt in a wound. The pictures you’d seen had told a different story, they looked plenty fine without you.

So you gave him a thin smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes.

“It’s fine, Bob. Don’t worry about it.”

He frowned. “Fury -”

“I said it’s fine.”

You sipped the coffee, letting the heat scald down your throat, using it as an excuse not to look at him.

He fell quiet after that, but you could feel his eyes on you, searching, trying to piece together pieces that he broke.

And you hated yourself for how much it hurt, that he could forget you like that. That maybe you weren’t the person he thought to tell anymore. 

But he didn’t press. Didn’t push. Just sat there, staring at his own hands, while the silence between you stretched wider than it had in years.

_____

The following Monday morning had a cheer going up when you walked into the hangar.

“Ayy there she is!” Rooster exclaimed, throwing an arm around your shoulders while you stared at him in bewilderment.

“Are you on drugs?”

He let out a laugh and led you over to the break room.

“She’s a comedian, everyone,” he quipped back sarcastically. “Nah we all just feel like a bunch of fucking assholes for Friday. Not that it was really anyone’s fault besides Floyd’s but still, we should have realized sooner.”

There was a box full of your favorite pastries waiting on the break room table, the ones from the fancy patisserie across town that you rarely splurged for. You bit back a smile and shook your head at the poorly made “We’re sorry” banner sloppy laid out across the front of the table.

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said fondly, grabbing a pasty from the box. “You didn’t need to do this. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Well technically, the pastries were Bob’s idea, but we all chipped in on the sign.”

You snorted and took a bite, relishing the taste of buttery sugar on your tongue. 

“I told him it was fine too.”

“Oh bulllllshit,” Hangman piped up from where he was scrolling on his phone. “That idiot came in here looking like someone kicked his puppy and killed his grandma. He knows he fucked up. And we all have made sure to remind him of it since the moment it happened.”

Phoenix grabbed a pastry and gently hip checked you with a smile.

“Seriously dude, we all feel terrible. We thought you knew.”

You shrugged your shoulders and took another bite to avoid answering.

“Probably my fault anyway, shouldn’t have to rely on someone else for my social calendar.” 

“Oh please, don’t make excuses for him. He knows he messed up. He’s doing all your paperwork for the foreseeable future by the way, as a way of saying sorry.”

She gestured to where Bob was squatting under your bird, glaring at the landing gear like it personally offended him and you rolled your eyes.

“Really, it’s fine… maybe just, text me directly with plans next time, yeah?”

Phoenix’s gaze saw too much but she nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Although something tells me this isn’t something your better half is ever going to do again.”

You sucked in a breath and shook your head.

“He’s not my -” 

You glared at her smirk and flipped her off.

“You’re the worst.”

The rest of the guys cleared out of the room and headed towards their own rigs to do their flight pre-checks. Her smirk softened into something that you wanted no part of.

“Seriously though, are you ok?”

You clenched your jaw against the emotion welling up inside you.

“I’d…like to not talk about this right now. Please.”

You must have sounded pathetic since she immediately nodded with a solemn set to her jaw. Normally she was like a dog with a bone when she wanted information on something so the fact that she just dropped it screamed loads about your current state.

“Alright, but we need a girls night soon. I’m tired of all the dick measuring going on in this squad. Lord knows we all don’t own microscopes.”

You let out a real laugh at that, inhaling powdered sugar and coughing up a storm. She let out a cackle and slapped you on the back. You grinned back at her and let out a deep breath, your feelings about her back seater momentarily falling away as you got to work. 

That night you stayed late to work out at the gym on base, pushing yourself hard in the weight room before showering and heading back to Bob’s townhouse, hoping beyond hope that he’d be in bed or sleeping at Leah’s.

When you silently pushed the door open and heard music coming from the Alexa you bit back a sigh at your bad luck. You toed your boots off and hung up your bag, thinking maybe you could sneak into your room without having to see him. 

As if drawn by your thoughts Bob appeared in the front hall out of nowhere and you swore in surprise.

“Jesus Bob, you scared the shit out of me.”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I just wanted to make sure I caught you.”

You took a deep breath and met his gaze.

“What’s up?”

He blinked at you like he couldn’t believe you just asked that.

“Come on,” he gestured over his shoulder to the kitchen and you had no choice but to follow him.

The table was set for two and he gestured for you to sit at one of the chairs, scurrying into the kitchen and grabbing two pizza boxes from the oven, placing them on the table and then grabbing the blender pitcher from the freezer. He poured you each a glass and took a seat across from you, placing your margarita in front of you.

“Bob-”

“Please,” he cut you off, gaze imploring as he looked at you. “Please, just let me say this.”

You nodded at him to continue, pizza and marg sitting untouched in front of you.

“I fucked up. God,” he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I fucked up, so, so, badly. Not just on Friday, which, I really did, but I’ve been fucking up for months.”

His gaze bore into you and you took a drink of your marg to give your hands something to do.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I know things have been… off with us. Ever since Leah and I started dating, and I haven’t been there for you the way I should be, the way I normally am.”

“Bob, that’s-” 

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t been there and I’m so sorry. You mean, god, you mean everything to me. You’re my best friend and I hate, I absolutely fucking hate, that we’re not ok.”

You stared down at the condensation dripping down your glass, throat tight.

The thing was, you missed him too. Missed the late-night takeout runs, the easy laughter, the quiet comfort of knowing someone always had your back. Things hadn’t felt right in a long time, but hearing him say it out loud made you realize just how bad things had gotten. 

“I don’t want us to be like this either,” you finally said, your voice low. “I hate it. I hate feeling like I lost my best friend.”

He looked up sharply at that, blue eyes searching yours.

“You didn’t. You haven’t. I’m right here.”

You gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Are you though? Because lately it feels like you’re halfway here, halfway somewhere else.”

Bob winced, the truth of that statement hitting him square in the chest.

“I know. And you’re right. I’ve been trying to balance things and…I just keep messing it up. Leah’s amazing, she is, but-” he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck again, “I should’ve made more of an effort with you. I never wanted you to feel like I chose her over you.”

The words made your stomach twist, your breath leaving you like you’d been punched in the gut.

You wanted to say it wasn’t about choosing, that you understood, but that would be a lie. Some selfish terrible part of you had wanted him to choose you, even if you knew he couldn’t.

You swallowed hard.

“I haven’t exactly made it easy either. I’ve been… distant. I’ve been weird and I’m sorry for that.”

Bob’s expression softened. 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Yes, I do,” you said, shaking your head. “You didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. You’ve always been there for me,” you took a sip of your drink and raised an eyebrow at him. “Friday night and Thirsty Thursday notwithstanding,” you tried for a joke and he winced causing you to smirk.

“And I’ve been acting like you haven’t been there for me for the better part of a decade.” You hesitated, fighting to keep your voice from shaking. “I just… I want things to be okay again. I want us to be okay again.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the low hum of the fridge and the faint music playing from the Alexa. Then Bob reached across the table, his hand hesitating for a brief moment before brushing against yours.

“Then let’s fix it,” he said simply. “Whatever it takes. Whatever you need. I’ll do it.”

You felt your throat close up again. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe you could do it too, that you could be around him without that ache in your chest. That you could go back to how easy things used to be. That you could go back to a time where you didn’t wish for something you couldn’t have. 

You managed a small, but genuine, smile. 

“Yeah. Let’s fix it.”

Bob’s shoulders dropped in relief, a smile brightening his face in a way that you hadn’t seen in months, as he grabbed your plate and slapped a slice of pizza onto it. 

“Good. Then we start with pizza and margaritas. I know it’s Monday, but we can pretend it’s Thursday. And you better drink all of your margs cuz I splurged for El Tesoro and the guy at the liquor store about fainted when I told him I was putting it into a margarita.”

You snorted a laugh, causing him to smile wider, the tension finally easing just a little. 

He raised his glass, eyes warm again.

“To fixing it.”

You clinked your glass against his.

“To fixing it.”

You took a sip, the tequila steading you.

As he started talking, about work, about a movie he’d seen, about how much shit the squad had given him for his stupidity in the hangar that morning, you listened. You laughed when he did, smiled when he smiled, and somewhere between the warmth of the margarita and the easy rhythm of his voice, you made a quiet promise to yourself. 

You were going to move on.

You were going to stop wishing for something that could never happen.

You were going to be his best friend again.

Even if it broke your heart to do it.

______

The next few weeks slipped into something that felt almost easy again. Back like your days in LeMoore, before your pesky feelings made themselves known and threw your entire existence into a tailspin.

You and Bob found your rhythm again, morning coffee runs, fighting over the aux on the drive to base, sarcastic banter echoing through the hangar like nothing had ever gone wrong. The squad noticed too, the awkward silences and sidelong looks faded, replaced with the same teasing camaraderie that had always defined you both. You no longer avoided Phoenix’s questioning gaze or Hangman’s knowing glare. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was comfortable. Predictable. Safe.

You started to remember what it felt like to just be with him, without the tension, without the ache. He’d text you memes in the middle of the day, nudged your shoulder when you zoned out during Cyclone's lectures, dragged you to that super sketchy sushi place for lunch that he loved like nothing had changed. And you began to realize maybe that was the point, that nothing had to change. 

Little by little, you let yourself believe it. You stopped overanalyzing every word, every look. You let the soft, familiar rhythm of your friendship fill in the empty spaces where longing used to live.

Some nights you’d still catch yourself watching him when he laughed too hard, or when he pushed his glasses up with that absentminded frown, but you forced yourself to look away. To remind yourself that this was enough.

Because it was enough.

It had to be enough.

He was happy, and you were okay. Better than okay, even. 

You could breathe again around him. You could tease him without feeling like you were breaking your own heart. 

You told yourself you were over it… over him. 

And most days, you gaslit yourself into believing that.

That particular night you were proud of yourself for it. Bob was out with Leah, and for once, the thought didn’t sting. You’d made dinner, showered, folded laundry with music playing low in the background. Just quiet normal ordinary things that didn’t revolve around him.

When you finally climbed into bed the house was quiet around you, and you let yourself revel in the calm. You were getting there. You really were. 

You were just drifting towards sleep when the lock clicked.

The familiar squeak of the front door, the shuffle of shoes on the mat, Bob’s routine, as ingrained in you as your own. But tonight there was another sound layered over it. Light, breathless laughter. Leah’s.

You froze, eyes snapping open in the dark.

The hall light cut a thin strip under your door and you heard the low rumble of Bob’s voice, muffled, followed by a sudden recognizable thump against the wall and a high pitched giggle. You didn’t need to see it to know what it meant.

You throat went dry and you pressed your face into your pillow, clutching it tighter and willing yourself not to listen. But then you heard the unmistakable sound of his bedroom door closing, and a silence that lasted only a few seconds before it filled with soft gasps and broken laughter, escalating into something so much worse. 

You shove the pillow over your head. Not enough.

You jammed your AirPods into your ears, swearing when the beep of a low battery met you. You turned on the noise canceling function anyway. 

Still not enough.

The walls in this townhome had never felt so thin.

Your chest felt like it was being crushed again, breath struggling into your lungs as you desperately tried to not picture what was happening on the other side of your bedroom wall. Your mind betrayed you, images flying behind your eyes like the worst kind of movie. 

You thought you had this under control. Thought you had it on lock down. But this… this was too much. 

Tears stung behind your eyes, but you blinked them away, furious at yourself. You had been doing so well. Taken such strides to draw that line between best friends and what you craved. And in one intimate sound it felt like all your progress had vanished. 

When the rhythm of the sounds next door sharpened, you couldn't take it anymore. You slipped out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt, and grabbed your keys as quietly as you could, AirPods still jammed into your ears like they could actually block out what your brain had fine tuned into. 

The front door clicked shut behind you, the cool night air biting into your skin. 

For a moment, you stood there on the front stoop, staring up at the sky, and the faint stars you could see beyond the light pollution of the California coast. The few that cut through the haze blinked back at you, mockingly.

You whispered to yourself, to them, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

And then you walked. Anywhere but there. 

_____

Bob found you in the hangar, bent over a maintenance checklist with a grease pencil in hand. You looked collected, hair pulled tight, every line of your body screaming ‘focused professional’. Still, his stomach churned with the knowledge that you had definitely overheard something you shouldn’t have last night, especially when you weren’t in your room this morning, and he couldn’t shake his unease. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, almost tentative. “Got a second?”

You glanced up, brows raised, that familiar grin flicking across your mouth a split second too late.

“For you, Lieutenant? Always. What’s up?”

Bob swallowed. That smile didn’t look quite right, it was there, but didn’t reach like it normally did. He shifted, rubbed at the back of his neck. 

“I, uh… about last night. I didn’t mean to…” he cleared his throat and his face flushed in embarrassment. “It got… louder than I thought.”

“Louder?” you repeated with a laugh, light and breezy. You shoved the pencil into your chest pocket. “Relax, Bob. It’s not like I haven’t heard worse. Two pilots sharing a house - you think that’s the worst thing our walls have ever heard?”

Your tone was teasing, easy. You made it sound ridiculous that he’d even bring it up.

Still the guilt twisted tighter. 

“Shouldn’t have happened,” he said softly.

“Forget about it,” you replied, turning back to your checklist. “It’s already forgotten.”

You made it sound final, like a door closing. Bob hesitated, then nodded, retreating without pressing further. But the unease stuck with him as he walked away, because even if you said it was forgotten it sure as hell didn’t feel that way. 

Neither one of you noticed your teammate, eyes wide, disbelief written across his face as he watched your conversation unfold from behind your aircraft.

The apartment was quiet when you got home, the kind of quiet that vibrated against your skin. Bob’s door was shut, light glowing faint under the crack. You didn’t knock, didn’t pause.

Your own room welcomed you with silence. You tossed your bag on the floor and sat on the bed’s edge, elbows on your knees, palms pressing against your eyes. 

All day you’d worn the mask at work. You’d smiled with Phoenix, tossed jokes back at Rooster, acted like Bob’s apology was more than enough. 

It’s already forgotten, you’d told him - crisp and convicting.

But it wasn’t.

Not when the memory still rang in your ears. The giggle, the thump against the wall, the moans that cut through your pillow, through your dead headphones, through everything you tried. Not when the man that you loved had held another woman only a few feet away, completely unaware that he was tearing you apart. 

And this morning. This morning. His apology. Awkward. Half-formed. Like all he thought you cared about was the god damn noise.

If only it had been that simple.

You curled onto your side, staring at the ceiling. Your chest ached with the effort of holding yourself together, and this time you didn’t fight it. A hot sting welled in your eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth until the urge passed, until your breath steadied again. 

Tomorrow, you’d be Fury again. Smiling, unshaken, sharp-tongued, indestructible. 

But tonight, in the dark, you let yourself break. 

_____

The drive to base the following morning was quiet, the radio softly playing in the background as you stared out of the window of Bob’s truck, hoping that your face didn’t look as puffy as it felt.

You felt your phone vibrate with a notification and you pulled it out, absentmindedly looking at the email notification that appeared on your home screen. Your breath caught at the sender and your thumb hesitated before opening the lockscreen to read it. Your eyes flew over the message, and it took everything in you not to react outwardly at the words on the screen. 

Despite your efforts, you must have made a noise because Bob glanced your way.

“Everything okay?”

You cleared your throat and nodded, pressing the side button to lock your phone with forced nonchalance. 

“Totally, just one of those videos from that guy in Thailand that rescues street dogs. You know they always get me.”

Bob chuckled, the sound easy and unsuspecting, and turned his attention back to the road.

You kept your gaze out the window, heart still racing, the words on your screen looping through your mind. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool, a smile tugged at your lips, small, hopeful, impossible to hide. For the first time in a long time, the road ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.

____

You were in the comms room with Hangman, both of you winding down from your flight and listening to the rest of the team that was up in the air over the radio. He was flipping a pen in between his fingers and looking between you and the comm system. 

“Soooo,” he drawled. “Interesting convo between you and Bob yesterday morning.”

You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes.

“Was there a question in there that I missed?”

He scoffed and leaned forward, forearms braced on his bent legs, pretty green eyes all too knowing.

“You okay?”

You pasted on a smile and pretended to look at the generic memo in front of you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His stare let you know unimpressed he was with your answer. 

“I don’t know… If I had to listen to the girl I was in love with get busy with her boyfriend, in my own damn home, I think I’d be a little upset.”

You shot him a glare and looked around the room.

“Would you shut the fuck up please?” you hissed. “We are at work.”

He ignored you and flipped the pen in his hand, his gaze entirely too wise for someone that pretended only to care about himself. 

“You know, you can always crash at my place if-”

You cut him off with a glare. 

“I don’t need… I’m fine, okay? It’s not a big deal. It’s fine. I’m fine everything is-”

“Fine?”

You flipped him off and turned to look out the window onto the tarmac. 

“Look, I get that you’re ‘fine’,” the words were accompanied by air quotes. “But seriously if you need to talk, or you need somewhere to crash to get away from all that,” he gestured to the sky where Bob and Phoenix were flying. “You know where to find me.”

“Careful, Hangman,” you tried to jest through your tight throat, “or people here might actually think you have a heart.”

He stared at you for a beat, blinking in a way that made you feel entirely too exposed. 

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart, I’m just trying to get brownie points so you’ll share some of those pastries with me the next time Baby on Board ultimately fucks up.”

You let out a bitter laugh, ready to drop it, but his hand landed on yours and your entire body tensed.

“Seriously,” the weight behind his voice made you pause. “You don’t have to live like this. I… I've been where you are before. And you might think that you need to be strong and push through, but you’re allowed to take care of yourself and do what’s best for you. Even if it means stepping away from him.”

You tried to speak, but the words caught behind the knot in your throat. Swallowing hard, you managed a small nod, eyes fixed on the horizon. On the fading light ahead, and the man who would never be yours.

______

You’d left in a rush the next morning, late for an internal meeting, mail scattered across the kitchen counter. Bob came back from his run, tugging off his hoodie and paused when he saw the NASA letterhead staring up at him from the counter.

He froze.

The envelope was torn open, the single sheet half-tucked back inside. His name wasn’t on it, but it was impossible not to see the words bold at the top:

“We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for a final interview in Houston…”

His chest tightened. He skimmed the first few lines, heart thudding harder with every word, until guilt made him shove the letter back exactly where it had been. He sank onto a stool, running a hand through his damp hair, trying to breathe around the weight settling in his chest. 

When you came home later, still in uniform, you barely noticed him sitting in the kitchen. You dropped your bag with a sigh, reaching for the stack of mail. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bob’s voice was soft, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. 

You froze, fingers brushing the envelope. Slowly, you looked up, reading the expression on his face.

“Oh,” you said. Your throat was dry. “You saw it.”

“I wasn’t trying to-” he gestured helplessly. “It was just there.”

Silence stretched. 

“I didn’t tell anyone.”

Bob’s brow furrowed. 

“Fury, this is… this is huge. Why didn’t you want to tell me? You’ve wanted this forever.”

Your laugh was brittle. “It’s not a big deal, there’s gonna be nothing to tell when I don’t get selected. I wanted… better to keep it quiet you know? Fewer people to disappoint.”

Bob shook his head immediately, earnestness flooding his voice. 

“You wouldn’t disappoint anyone. You’ve got this. I know you do.”

The way he said it, the conviction behind his voice. Certain, steady, like he believed in you more than you believed in yourself, made your throat ache. You had to look away, staring at the envelope instead of his gaze.

“Please don’t tell the others,” you whispered, a rare moment of vulnerability peaking through.

Bob hesitated, then nodded once in agreement.

“Okay. Just me.”

The quiet stretched again, heavier this time, filled with all the things neither of you could say.

_____

It was one of those rare nights when the entire squad had a break, a collective exhale, and somehow everyone ended up crowding into a bar that wasn’t the Hard Deck for once. The noise, the laughter, the haze of neon lights wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you sipped your drink.

Things with Bob had been… better. Easier. He’d been warm again, attentive in that quiet way that was so him. It almost felt like old times, if you ignored the echo of that one night, buried deep where you refused to touch it.

You were at the bar with Leah, of all people, waiting for another round of drinks while the others fought over the TouchTunes. She flashed you a bright smile, casual and easy. 

“So,” Leah said, leaning in just enough to be heard over the music. “Bob told me about your NASA interview. That’s incredible! I can’t imagine how excited you must be.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, any warmth from your buzz evaporating as your chest hollowed out.

You'd forced a smile to your lips, but your fingers had tightened hard around your glass. 

“Oh. He told you about that?”

Leah nodded, blissfully oblivious to the way your voice cracked. 

“Yeah, he’s so, so proud of you. He said you’d kill it up there. Honestly, it makes sense. You’ve always seemed… bigger than this,” she gestured around you. “You know? Like you’re meant for more.”

She’s sincere, earnest, the kind of woman that means every kind word. 

You'd managed a weak laugh, nodding along, because what else can you do?

But inside, something fractured. 

Because Bob had promised. He’d promised it was just between the two of you. And now, she knows. Leah, of all people, sitting there smiling like it’s nothing, but it feels like everything.

And she wasn't being cruel, not even close. She was being wonderful, the way she always is, and somehow that makes it just so much worse. 

Because how can you be angry at her? She’s being so gracious and supportive and everything you wish you could be. The only person left to blame for the sick feeling in your gut is yourself, for caring too much, for letting it sting, for being the fool who thought something so private could stay between you and your best friend. 

The bartender slammed a tray of drinks down in front of you and Leah squeezed your arm warmly before grabbing it and carrying the tray back to your table. You stayed rooted where you were, staring at the condensation sliding down your glass, trying to swallow the ache rising in your throat.

From across the bar Bob caught your eye and smiled, soft and steady, the way he always did. Unaware of the bomb that had just been dropped.

And you… you couldn't even look at him.

Later, outside the bar, you allowed the night air to cool the heat in your chest. Bob followed you out, concern etched all over his face at the fact that you'd been avoiding him since he saw you at the bar with Leah.

“Hey,” Bob said softly. “Everything okay? You kind of disappeared back there.”

You let out a shaky breath, exhausted from the boomerang of your emotions when it came to your best friend.

“Yeah, just needed some air.”

He didn't buy it, of course he didn't, but he waited patiently like he knows there’s more. And that’s what hurts the most, that he still knows you, still gets you better than anyone, even when you wish he didn’t.

You finally let some of the emotions you've been bottling up slip out when you turned to him.

“Thought it was just supposed to be between us,” you said finally, voice low and bitter. “The NASA thing.”

Bob froze, eyes widening as realization hits.

“Oh…shit. Leah…she said something? Fury, I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you cut in, swallowing against the lump in your throat. “I know. It’s just…” you forced a breath, shaking your head. “It’s my fault for thinking things could just be like they were. You have her, and that’s fine. Really, it is. I just… need some time to get my head around this new normal.”

He stepped forward, and you matched it with a step back.

“Please, Bob,” you try your hardest to keep your voice steady. “Just… give me a little space, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” you held up a hand to stop him and nodded.

“I know. I just… need some time.”

He nodded, stricken, and for a heartbeat you almost take it back. The look on his face made you want to tell him it’s okay, that you’re fine. But you’re not. So you turn and walk away before he can say anything else. 

You don’t tell him you’re going to Houston the following week. You don’t tell anyone except Mav when you drop your leave request on his desk.

It’s easier that way. Easier to pack your bag in silence, board a flight, and keep your phone on Do Not Disturb. Two weeks of training, evaluation, interviews and maybe, if you’re lucky, enough distance to finally breathe again.

Bob gives you 24 hours before he texts, concern evident since he hasn’t seen or heard from you. The text he receives back from you makes his heart drop.

In Houston for eval and training. Will let you know when I book my flight back. 

Bob tells himself not to worry, that you’re chasing your dream and are too busy to answer any of the dozens of follow up texts he sends your way. But the empty chair behind him in the ready room feels wrong. The silence in the car on the way home from base feels worse. 

The squad is hounding him about your whereabouts, Mav only letting them know that you requested leave for two weeks, but not budging on additional details. 

Bob is also silent about where you disappeared to, not stupid enough to make that critical mistake twice. 

He hadn’t been malicious when he told Leah. He’d just been so proud, bursting even. He’d been talking about you, about the two of you sitting on the roof years ago watching a launch on your outdated iPad, you declaring one day you’d be up there.

And he’d told Leah how that same fire was still in you, how the NASA interview was proof of your drive and unlimited gumption. He hadn’t even thought to say don’t mention it. 

Now, as he thinks he might have broken your friendship beyond repair, he wishes he hadn’t said anything. 

You’ve gone dark in Houston, and he feels it in every part of his day. He’s quieter than normal in briefings, slower to joke. When your name comes up in squad chatter, he looks away.

Leah starts to notice the distance too, the late replies, the distracted looks, the almost obsessive checking of his phone. When she lightly teases him about missing you, his face falls just enough to tell her everything she needs to know. 

He doesn’t say it but he feels it deep within his soul, the echo of something critical missing.

At first, it was just the little things.

He’d come home and catch himself calling out your name before remembering you weren’t there. He’d still make two mugs of coffee in the morning without thinking, setting one on the counter before realizing it would stay untouched.

He tried to fill the silence, dates with Leah, music, TV, late nights at work, but none of it helped. The townhouse felt too big, too empty, like it echoed with ghosts of conversations and laughter that used to fill it.

At work, he found himself glancing at your locker every time he walked past. The small sticker you’d put on it, a faded NASA logo, had started to peel at the corner. He almost fixed it once, hand halfway raised before he stopped himself.

Phoenix noticed the way he’d gone quiet. “You good, Bob?” she’d asked one afternoon after a post flight debrief.

He’d nodded. “Yeah. Just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie exactly. He was tired, but not from flying. From thinking. From missing you in a way that gnawed at the edges of his focus.

He started replaying the last few weeks before you left, before he had fucked up everything more than he knew.

He thought about the sound of your laugh in the car, fighting him for the aux and playing Chumbawumba on repeat much to his dismay. He thought of you sitting on the couch, bathed in the setting sunlight, looking up at him like he hung the moon.

He couldn't stop seeing the moment from that night, when your eyes dropped from his at the bar while Leah walked back with a tray of drinks. The moment that something in you seemed to give up.

And the thing that had hurt the most:

You hadn’t just needed space. You’d needed distance — from him.

And the worst part was, he couldn’t even blame you.

So he threw himself into work. Stayed later. Ran drills he didn’t need to. Anything to keep his hands busy, his mind too full to wander.

But at night, when the world finally went quiet, he’d catch himself scrolling through old photos, your shoulder pressed against his, your smile easy and unguarded, and he’d feel it again.

That sharp, hollow ache of missing something he hadn’t realized he’d already lost.

------

It all came to a head a week and a half after you left.

Bob had gone through the motions, flying, briefing, pretending everything was fine, but the silence in the townhouse grew louder with every passing day. Your coffee mug stayed in the sink. Your jacket hung by the door. He’d stopped even trying to text after the umpteenth unanswered message, but he still found himself unlocking his phone, staring at your name.

Leah noticed. Of course she did.

They had been taking a walk by the beach after dinner, the setting sun bleeding out over the water, when she finally said it.

“You don’t have to keep pretending, Bob.”

He blinked, caught mid-step. “Pretending what?”

She smiled, soft and sad. “That everything’s okay. That you’re okay.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head. 

“I think we both know your heart isn’t in this anymore.”

Bob froze. The words hit like a hundred G's, sudden and crushing, inescapable.

“Leah, what’re you-”

“It’s alright,” she said gently, cutting him off before he could stumble through the question. “You’re a good man, you know that? Too honorable to follow your own heart.”

Her eyes met his, clear and steady. “I’ve seen the way you look when her name comes up. The way you go quiet. I think… maybe you’ve already found the person you’re supposed to be with. And that person isn’t me.”

He swallowed hard, gaze darting away toward the horizon. He knew he should say something, deny her observation and tell her that she didn’t know what she was talking about. He should have fought, insisted that Leah was the one for him.

But he couldn’t.

Her observation froze him, rewiring his brain in a way that made it seem so obvious.

Leah smiled again, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

Bob squeezed his eyes shut in shame, gutted by her kind words. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t cruel, wasn’t even surprised. Just quietly heartbroken and willing to step away gracefully like the best kind of person.

He had walked her to her car, feeling like the world’s biggest ass when she kissed him on the cheek one last time and wished him luck. He had apologized softly, insisting that he did have feelings for Leah during their relationship, wanting her to understand that he never meant to make her feel like he wasn't fully committed. This made her quietly chuckle as she shook her head.

“I know, Bob. I could practically see your head explode with the realization when I brought it up just now.”

He apologized again, feeling like the scum of the earth and watched as she drove away.

He realized he should be feeling a lot more upset for a guy who’s girlfriend of 6 months just dumped him. He should be gutted, wrecked. But when he got home and shut the door behind him, the silence didn’t seem to crush him as much as it had before. 

He kept waiting for the ache to hit, for regret to roll in like a wave. 

It never did.

Instead, something quieter settled over him. A sense of clarity that left him equal parts relieved and terrified all at once.

In the days leading up to your arrival home, he found himself replaying every conversation you’d had before you left. Your lack of physical contact, pulling away, careful tone, the way you’d said you needed time, how you wouldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, but he could still see the hurt and disappointment radiating off you.

At the time he thought you had just been upset at the change in the dynamic, had been hurt because he told a secret that wasn’t his to tell. 

Now, he knew that was partially the case, but he also knew there was something more.

Because the more he thought about it, the clearer it became.

You weren’t just his best friend. You were the measure, the baseline he unconsciously held everything else against. Every laugh, every quiet morning, every woman he’d tried to love since meeting you.

And now that you were gone, he couldn’t unsee it.

He couldn’t unfeel it.

_____

Bob scowled at his phone, the group chat lighting up with a text from Natasha letting everyone know that you were on your flight back and she’d be grabbing you from the airport. That was followed by a threat to be at The Hard Deck at 6pm sharp for a welcome home party. 

Bob knew he had brought it on himself, that he had royally fucked up before you took off to Houston, but it still hurt that you hadn’t deigned to text him your plans or ask him for a ride from the airport. 

The bar was buzzing with energy when you and Natasha walked in. Rooster spotted you first, shooting off his barstool and crushing you into a hug that knocked the wind from your lungs. Hangman followed with a clap to the back and a drawled “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

The rest of the team crowded in at once, laughing, easily believing your lie that you were visiting family, but your eyes found Bob almost instantly.

He stood off to the side, beer in hand, posture just shy of stiff. He hadn’t rushed forward like the others, unsure of his place. He just… looked at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real. Like you had hung the sun and the moon in the sky.

And that one look undid all two weeks of mental barriers you had erected around your feelings for Bob Floyd. 

When the noise finally settled and Phoenix dragged the rest of the squad toward the bar, you found yourself walking over before you could second-guess it. 

“Hey,” you said softly.

Bob blinked at you like you were an apparition before nodding back.

“Hey.”

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. This was Bob, the one person you’d never had awkward silences with and now neither one of you knew how to fill it.

He offered you his bottle of beer and you nodded in thanks, taking it from him and swigging a drink to give yourself something to do.

“How was it?” he asked finally. His voice was careful, like he was afraid of the answer.

You shrugged, trying for lightness. 

“Grueling. Long days, lots of testing. I’m pretty sure I won’t want to see another centrifuge for the rest of my life.”

That earned you a small laugh, his gaze open and honest, boring into yours and pinning you where you stood.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said. Quiet, earnest. “I…hated the way that we left things. Hated that I fucked up so bad. That I hurt you-”

“Bob-” you cut him off. “Let’s not do this here okay? I’m happy to be back, we can talk more at home alright?”

He let out a deep sigh but nodded, bringing his arms up and pulling you into a hug before you could second guess it.

His arms were a solid weight around you, pulling you tight to his chest, encompassing you in a way that screamed ‘home’, and had the backs of your eyes burning. You returned the hug, holding him close while you could before pulling back, avoiding his gaze as you took a step away, your body singing from the close contact with him.

You were so fucked. 

The rest of the night passed in a drunken blur as your body settled back into this known routine. You laughed and drank and played pool with your friends, always hyper aware of Bob on the periphery.

You hadn’t conversed with him outside of your conversation leading up to the hug, and when it was the wrong side of midnight he gently helped you into the Uber he called, making sure to grab your bag out of Natasha’s car before sliding into the other side. 

The trip home was quiet, the air thick with something that you couldn’t name. 

You’d followed him into the kitchen, sliding onto your barstool as he poured two glasses of water, sliding one across the counter to you. His face was a little flushed with alcohol, his normally perfect hair mussed in a way that made you want to run your fingers through it.

He took a large drink and met your gaze. There was a pause, the kind that used to be comfortable between you. Now it felt like a minefield.

He took a breath, “Listen, about before you left… about Leah-”

You shook your head before he could finish. “It’s fine, Bob.”

“It’s not,” he said quietly, resolute. “I keep saying sorry to you lately, and I know that’s not fixing anything, but I just-” He stopped, exhaling hard. “I’ve been a shitty friend. I hate that. I hate that I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

You looked down at the drink in your hands, throat tight. “You didn’t mean to.”

“No, but I still did it,” he said. “And I keep doing it. And I don’t know how to make it right except-” He stopped himself before he said too much. Except by earning you back.

When you finally met his eyes, he looked raw, open in a way that made it impossible to stay angry. You sighed, the smallest bit of your guard slipping.

“It did hurt,” his jaw clenched and he nodded. “But I get it. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me."

You took another sip of your water. "Look, I had two weeks to…think about things. And we can just call it water under the bridge, okay? I missed you and want things to go back to how they were…before. Can we just try to do that?”

His shoulders eased a little, that quiet hopeful light returning to his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll try.”

You gave him a small smile, the first real one since you’d come home.

He’d take it.

For now, that was enough.

Even if every part of him wanted to tell you everything. That Leah was gone, that he’d meant it when he said you were the person who mattered most, that he finally understood what it felt like to lose you.

That he had definitely been in love with you for the better part of a decade, but was just too damn stupid to see what was right in front of him.

Instead, he just asked if you wanted some more water, and when you said yes, he smiled like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

_____

After that night, Bob started trying. Really trying.

You could see his regret for his actions, his desperation for normalcy, in a hundred small ways.

Your favorite coffee waiting on the counter before you woke up. The playlist he coordinated for your morning runs. The way he’d start cooking dinner before you got home every night, pretending it was “way easier to cook for two.”

He’d linger longer in conversation, laugh a little louder at your jokes, meet your eyes a little too long when you talked. It was the kind of attention that used to come so easily between you, but now it felt… deliberate. Careful. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

And it was killing you... again.

Because every thoughtful gesture, every quiet kindness, every soft look across the table chipped away at the fragile resolve you’d built in Houston. You’d gone there to remind yourself that your life could be bigger than this, that you could stand on your own without orbiting around Bob Floyd.

But now, he was right there again. Making it so damn hard to breathe.

You told yourself he was just being a good friend. Making amends. Feeling guilty about letting your secret slip to his girlfriend.

Because that’s what it had to be. It wasn’t fair to think otherwise, not when he was still in a relationship.

So you smiled. You thanked him. You laughed when he teased you, and tried to ignore the way your pulse jumped when he brushed past you in the kitchen, large hand on your waist as he gently moved you out of the way so he could get to the fridge. You told yourself to stop reading into it, stop hoping.

But then there were moments that broke your resolve.

Like when you came home late one night and found him asleep on the couch, a movie paused on the screen and your NASA sweatshirt balled up under his head like a pillow. A handwritten note left for you on the counter that dinner was in the fridge and instructions on how long to put it in the microwave. The small smiley face and heart finishing the letter off.

Or when he looked at you across the bar one Friday and smiled, soft, open, like he’d finally found his way home.

You kept telling yourself he was just being Bob. Kind, thoughtful, good to his core.

You kept telling yourself not to read into it.

You kept failing.

Because every laugh, every shared look across the ready room, every casual touch of his hand against your back when he leaned close to point something out, it all felt like more.

You’d lie awake some nights, staring at the ceiling, furious at yourself for hoping. For letting yourself imagine he might look at you the same way you looked at him. Because Leah was still in the picture, at least, as far as you knew. And the guilt over loving another woman's boyfriend only added to your anger.

So every time he showed up with your favorite takeout, or left a Post-it note on your desk that said something stupid like Don’t forget how amazing you are, the ache sharpened.

Because kindness from Bob Floyd always came from love, and as always, the love that he was giving wasn’t the kind you so desperately craved.

And he didn’t know that every time he tried to show you how much he cared, he was breaking your heart all over again.

______

The first thing Bob heard when he opened the door with an armful of groceries was the chime of a FaceTime call, coming from your open laptop on the kitchen counter. The name of the caller lit up the screen and Bob’s heart leapt to his throat at the name: Johnson Space Center - Houston, TX. 

The call cut off and he heard your muffled voice from your room where you had answered it from your phone.

He tried his best not to eavesdrop on your conversation, focusing instead on putting away the produce he had bought for tonight’s dinner. 

You emerged from your room a few minutes later, shoulders tight, eyes rimmed red. You stopped dead when you saw him in the kitchen, fully expecting him to be at Leah’s. His heart broke at the rejection written on your face and he watched as you attempted to pull yourself together, to not allow him to see you break.

“You okay?” he spoke softly even if he already knew the answer. He left the question open ended, leaving it up to you to choose whether or not to fill him in.

You forced a nonchalant shrug, and stared at a spot on the countertop, not meeting his gaze. 

“Guess I should’ve known I’m not what they’re looking for.”

His chest ached. You looked so small standing there, fighting to hold yourself together. He wanted to fix it, to make it right, to call up god damn NASA and tell them what a bunch of fucking idiots they had to be to not see your potential.

But all he could offer was the truth.

“They’re wrong,” he said firmly. “You’d have been perfect.”

You shook your head, but before you could argue his palms cupped your shoulders and he forced you to meet his gaze.

“They’re wrong, Fury. And just because you weren’t selected this time doesn’t mean it’s a ‘no forever’. It’s just not right now.”

You froze, the words and the conviction behind them hitting deeper than you wanted them to. 

Bob’s gaze didn’t waver.

“And when the time is right? You’ll be ready. And you’ll show them just how fucking wrong they were for not seeing how incredible you were the first time.”

Something in your chest cracked at that, because you almost believed him.

______

Things with Bob got worse before they got better, though “better” wasn’t the right word anymore.

Bob kept finding new ways to show up for you. The car battery mysteriously replaced before you could even complain about it dying. The oil in your jeep changed. The boots that you’d been meaning to take to get fixed somehow magically appearing in the front hall, looking like new. Fresh flowers waiting for you on the counter at home because 'they reminded him of you'.

He’d act like it was nothing, brushing it off with that shy, easy grin of his.

“Just figured I’d take care of it while I was there.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because every time he did something kind, every time his voice went soft when he said your name, you felt that quiet, impossible hope claw its way back up your throat.

And then you’d see a text light up on his phone, and you knew who it was from, and the air would go out of your lungs.

So once again you attempted to build walls for your own sanity. Little ones at first. You stopped lingering in the kitchen after dinner, started volunteering for more late exercises, more simulator time. You told yourself it was good. You needed distance, discipline, control.

But Bob noticed.

He noticed the way you smiled without really looking at him again. The way you laughed with everyone else just a little louder, a little brighter, like you were trying to prove something. The way you always had somewhere to be.

One night he finally said it, quiet but steady.

“Did I… do something wrong again?”

You looked up from the report you were pretending to read, your pulse jumping at the uncertainty in his voice.

“No, Bob. You didn’t.”

He nodded, but the crease between his brows didn’t ease.

“You just feel… far away lately.”

You forced a small smile, soft but tired. “Sometimes things like that happen in friendships.”

He looked like you’d just punched him.

You couldn’t stand it, the guilt, the ache, so you stood and brushed past him toward the hallway, pretending not to see the hurt in his eyes.

Behind you, you heard him exhale, quiet and shaky.

And later that night, when you passed by the living room, you caught sight of him sitting on the couch. The lights off, a half-drunk beer in front of him, staring at nothing.

It was the first time you’d ever seen Bob Floyd look lost.

And it broke something in you that you’d worked so hard to keep whole.

After that night it was like Bob doubled down on his efforts. Like he was determined to rip down the walls you were frantically trying to build. 

Bob was everywhere.

He’d wait for you after debriefs, walk you to your car, drop off your favorite snacks “just because.” He started remembering the little things again, the brand of protein bars you liked, the playlist you used to play before a mission, the fact that you hated when people talked during takeoff.

It was familiar. It was safe.

And it continued to hurt like hell.

So you laughed when he made jokes. You thanked him when he did something kind. You smiled and deflected, keeping your voice light even when your chest felt too tight.

You built the walls back up one polite sentence at a time.

And Bob...

Bob could feel every brick, and worked valiantly to rip each one back down. 

He didn’t know what else to do. He thought he was showing you, really showing you, how much you meant to him. But every time he reached for you, you seemed to pull just a little further away.

He’d catch you watching him sometimes, quick glances that vanished the second he turned his head. The kind of look that made his heart race, even as doubt started to creep in around the edges.

Maybe he’d waited too long.

Maybe whatever you’d felt for him was gone.

He replayed every conversation, every time he’d seen your smile falter, every time you’d chosen distance over closeness. The thought that he might have missed his chance tore at him. Not because you didn't care, but because he'd unintentionally hurt you too deeply for you to ever let him back in.

His mind tortured him with all the ways he hadn't realized he'd hurt you during his relationship. But the one thing it kept coming back to was the night that you overheard him and Leah having sex, the forced nonchalance in your tone the following morning. The way you looked like you were just holding it together.

And he had thought you'd been upset about the noise.

He started second-guessing everything. Should he say something? Should he tell you that Leah was gone, that it had been over for more than a month, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since?

But then he’d see you laughing with Hangman or teasing Rooster, that same easy grin on your face, and the words would die in his throat.

You looked happy.

And Bob Floyd had never been good at taking something that wasn’t freely offered.

So he stayed quiet.

And he waited.

______

The ready room was nearly empty, just the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffle of papers. You were perched in one of the jump seats, half out of your flight suit, running through your checklist like it held the answers to life’s mysteries.

Bob hovered nearby, like he always did. He’d been watching you for days now. Watching as you smiled when you should’ve been upset, cracking jokes too quick, and acting fine when something about you screamed otherwise. He could tell you were getting to your breaking point with something… him most likely, he thought. And he wanted to be there to catch you in the fallout. 

“Hey,” he said gently at first.

"Hey," you continued to scan the list in your lap.

"You alright?"

"Just peachy, Bob."

He ignored the sarcasm behind your words.

“It seems like you’ve been off lately.”

You didn’t look up from your checklist, even though he knew damn well it had been completed minutes ago.

“Just tired.”

“You’ve said that a lot.”

“Because it’s true,” you snapped a little too fast, eyes still glued to the page.

Bob shifted closer, frowning. 

“It’s not just that. You’re different with me again.” His voice dropped, almost pleading, sick of this same old song and dance. “Did I do something?”

You sharply exhaled, flipping the clipboard shut.

“Bob, drop it.”

“No,” your gaze snapped to his at the finality in his tone. “You’re my best friend. You think I don’t notice when you’re pulling away from me… again? When you won’t even look at me when I’m trying so hard to make things normal? Tell me what’s going on.”

Your grip tightened on the clipboard.

“It’s nothing.”

His gaze burned into you as he took a step closer. The air seemed to tighten, shrinking the space between you until you could feel the heat of him.

“It’s not nothing,” he said, his voice low but sharp now, that rare edge cutting through the calm he usually clung to. “These past months have been killing me. So just…fucking tell me. Please,” he begged. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”

You froze. His words hit something buried, something you’d worked so hard to keep locked away. For a heartbeat, all you could hear was the rush of your own pulse. The silence between you was heavy, trembling with everything unsaid.

You’d spent months pretending, mastering the smile, the glance away, the practiced silence every time his name was mentioned. It was easier to lie, to carry the ache quietly, than to risk everything by speaking it aloud.

But now, with him standing there, eyes fierce, chest rising and falling like he’d been running, it was all too much. The weight of it cracked something open inside you.

“You want the truth?” Your voice came out sharp, brittle, almost a laugh but not quite.

“Yes!” His frustration boiled over, raw and desperate. “Please, Fury.”

And the dam finally broke.

You shoved to your feet, chest heaving as you threw the clipboard onto your chair and spun towards him.

“The truth is I can’t do this anymore, okay? I can’t sit here pretending everything is fine, holding myself together while I watch you with someone else. While you forget me and then treat me like I mean more to you than just a friend. I can’t fucking stand another night when you bring her home and then act like the only problem is the noise.”

The color drained from Bob’s face. 

“I was never mad about the noise, Bob!” your laugh broke, jagged. “I’m mad because it’s you. Because I’ve been in love with you this whole fucking time, and every day I have to watch you give yourself to someone else, when all I want is to be that person! I have to watch you touch her and kiss her and laugh with her like it’s not fucking killing me. And I have to sit there and just be the best friend because I was a coward and didn’t tell you how I felt after the Uranium mission.”

Just as quickly as the fire had lit within you it sputtered out. The room went silent but for your ragged breathing. Bob just stared, stricken, like the floor had dropped out from under him.

You were shaking, staring at a spot on the floor as your voice dropped to a whisper. 

“You wanted the truth? There it is.”

And before he could speak, you shoved past him and stormed out, the slam of the ready room door echoing in your wake.

______________________

Me, leaving y'all on that cliffhanger:

JK PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I PROMISE IT WILL GET BETTER!

Hoping to post the FINAL part (smut included) soon!

[lolxdswag123]

Besties. pt 1 (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: One year ago, you moved to North Island with your brother, Jake, when he got called to Top Gun. It has also been one year since you were introduced to his team— the Dagger Squad. It has been exactly ten months and three days that you have been head over heels for your best friend Bob, Floyd. The problem is: he doesn’t seem interested in crossing the line between friends and something more.

Warnings: suggestive language, alcohol, drunkenness, Jake being Jake, yearning, lots of interruptions, slow burn, best friends to lovers, the Dagger Squad acting like college kids for a weekend, not proofread, angst, no use of y/n

Word Count: ~9k

Author’s note: this is the first time I’ve been genuinely proud of my writing. It will be a two part series… let me know if you like it!

It was exactly five o’clock in the morning when Jake’s alarm started blaring through the walls of your small apartment. Every morning, you tried to sleep in, and yet every morning you failed miserably.

Next door, you could hear the obnoxious banging that Fanboy makes every day when he makes himself breakfast. It was only a matter of minutes until his roommate, Bob Floyd (aka: your best friend), would send his daily text apologizing for the racket and tell you he hopes you have a good day.

That was how your friendship started. Before even meeting the team, you had occasionally seen Fanboy and Bob heading into their neighboring apartment. Before being properly introduced, Bob had always been— in your mind— the cute, sweet looking man who lived next door. When you were introduced by your older brother, you quickly exchanged numbers for ‘neighborly reasons.’

It had started with a few texts here and there: your wifi was down and Jake wasn’t around, your power went out so you had to check if theirs was too, and a few check-in’s to make sure everyone was still alive after some particularly loud noises from Jake or Fanboy.

At first you hated Jake’s nightmarish habits of raging from video games, or banging pots and pans in the kitchen, but it quickly became something you enjoyed because it meant your phone would be buzzing shortly after with a: “Everything okay over there?” or “Still alive?”

Eleven months ago, the daily morning texts started. They were always something along the lines of:

“Sorry, Fanboy decided to make a protein shake this morning. Hope it didn’t wake you up. Have a good day!”

Or

“Good morning. Fanboy is driving me nuts. Hope you can go back to sleep 😴”

It only took one month for you to decide you never wanted to live without these texts again. Now, it has been a beautifully miserable ten months of being madly in love with your next door neighbor and best friend.

The only times you didn’t get a message in the morning were when the Dagger Squad was away for a mission, or for training purposes. The mornings felt a little bit less exciting those days. You felt a little bit more hollow. That was, until two months ago when you started receiving texts even when they were away. They weren’t first thing in the morning, but at random points through the day. The most recent ones being:

“You doing okay there by yourself? Only 2 more days then we’ll be back. Don’t forget to lock your door.”

And

“I’m exhausted. Can’t wait to get back. Miss you.”

Every single text that this man typed to you sent you deeper into the hole of being hopelessly, madly in love. If he hadn’t dodged every attempt of yours to flirt or make a move, you are sure you would be practically married to the man by now.

Your phone buzzes, drawing your attention away from your deepening affection. You checked it quickly, grinning already in anticipation of what Bob might have come up with this morning, but are instantly let down to see it was just an email from some subscription you forgot to cancel.

You sighed, laying back down and trying your best to doze off again before your alarm wakes you up in three hours.

At exactly 8 o’clock, your alarm blares, waking you again from your slumber. You drowsily got out of bed and threw yourself into your morning routine.

After you had brushed your teeth, ate breakfast, and gotten dressed and ready for the day, you finally checked your phone. You scrolled through your notifications before realizing something.

Bob never texted this morning.

Your heart dropped, confusion filling your senses. Bob never forgets to text. You knew he wasn’t away for a mission, and even when he was sick he still would send a message.

Your brain immediately jumped to every conclusion possible— he could be hurt, he might have broken his phone, maybe he met someone and didn’t want to be texting another girl every day, maybe he truly just forgot you.

You shook your head, effectively pulling yourself out of the spiraling thoughts. He probably just had a busy morning.

After you had properly leveled out your thoughts, you finished getting ready for work and continued subconsciously checking your phone every five minutes. Even on the drive, you could hardly stop yourself from refreshing your messages. When you pulled up to the Hard Deck, you decided just to turn off your phone for the day and focus on work.

After the first couple weeks on North Island, you had visited the Hard Deck with the Dagger Squad more than just a few times. You had gotten to know Penny, and she was quick to offer you a job when you said you were looking for work.

You had never expected to be a bartender 4 evenings a week, but it was good money (Navy men leave generous tips), and it helped keep you busy. Plus, it didn’t hurt that every Friday night you had a sweet man sitting at the bar to chat with you.

All it took was one brief conversation with Bob for him to start coming to visit you at least once a week.

It really hadn’t been your intention. There was some creepy old pilot who hadn’t left you alone in a few days, and it was really starting to freak you out. You didn’t tell Jake because he could be a bit over protective, but you did bring it up to Bob one night. You had never seen him look so disgusted before. The next thing you knew, your best friend was sitting at the bar, making snarky comments at the man every time that he tried to speak to you, and effectively embarrassed him enough to scare him away. Since then, it had become a once a week occurence.

He claimed it was just to make sure you were safe, but there hadn’t been any other creeps since that one time, so you think that somewhere along the line he just started to enjoy that time with you.

"You okay?" Penny asked midway into your shift, looking at you with concern.

You nodded, pouring a beer for a customer, "Yeah, why?"

Penny shrugged, shaking her head, "You seem like something is on your mind today... or maybe someone?"

You slid the beer to the customer, shaking your head, "Just tired."

The rest of your shift went by quickly. It wasn't until you arrived at home to see that Jake wasn't there that you finally checked your phone. There were a few missed calls and texts, none of them from the person you were thinking about.

Jake: 2 missed calls.

5:46pm: "I'm going over to Bradshaw's."

6:02pm: "Left dinner in the fridge."

6:02pm: "Will be back around 12."

8:36pm: "How do you feel about a little beach vacation? This weekend?"

You shook your head, typing back a quick response. He knew you were scheduled to work all weekend, and it was beyond you why he would want to take a vacation to the beach when we literally are surrounded by beach every day.

Phoenix:

8:54pm: "I'm at Bob and Fanboy’s for a movie night. Please come. Too much masculinity here."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should go next door. Unsure if you were wanted next door. Before you could get too obsessed again with the meaning behind the absence of Bob’s text this morning, you quickly talked yourself back down to earth.

It’s not like Bob was your boyfriend. He didn’t have to text you every day, and it wasn’t fair of you to be upset and make assumptions just because he didn’t for one day.

You decided to hop in the shower and texted Phoenix back: “Will be over soon.”

After brushing out your wet hair and throwing on an old pair of sweats with one of Jake’s old hoodies, you headed next door and knocked on the door. Your palms were a little bit sweaty, but you reminded yourself again to cool it.

A few moments later, the door was opened by Phoenix, who quickly ushered you into the apartment.

“Finally,” she said, heading back into the living room, “I wasn’t going to stay much longer unless another girl showed up. These boys have me ready to bite someone’s head off.”

“Aw come on, Phoenix.” Fanboy called out from the living room couch, “You know you love us.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes and took a seat on a recliner next to the couch. You instantly noticed that Bob wasn’t in the room, and hesitated for a moment before taking a seat on the couch right next to where Phoenix was sitting.

This place had come to feel like a second home for you since you moved to North Island. If you weren’t at home or at work— you were here. You and Bob had spent endless hours laughing on the couch of this apartment; both with the squad, and alone with each other.

You pushed away all of your uncomfortable thoughts about Bob and allowed yourself to get comfortable. They were watching Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones. You were sure Bob had picked it out, he was a total Star Wars nerd.

There was one night a couple months ago when you and Bob had been laughing too loud in the living room, and Fanboy asked you both to keep it down. Everyone else had gone to bed early that night. Neither of you were tired yet, so you moved to his room to continue hanging out. That was the night you found out that Bob Floyd had Star Wars sheets. You thought it was completely adorable.

A door opened down the hall, and Bob emerged from his room. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt, and you swore no one had ever worn it so well. Even the sight of him had you blushing. It was pathetic.

Bob’s eyes caught yours as soon as he entered the living room, a slightly startled look covering his features.

“I uh-” he said, not making eye contact, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Phoenix beat you to it.

“I asked her to come,” Phoenix said with a yawn, “You two have been driving me nuts.”

Bob nodded, sitting on the opposite side of the couch, still not making eye contact.

Okay, so now you knew something was off. Everyone knew that you and Bob were best friends. It was never awkward. He was never indifferent when you showed up. You always sat next to each other, always talked, and it was never weird.

Phoenix seemed to notice the tension and nudged your arm, giving a silent look asking what’s going on. You shrugged, hoping your disappointment didn’t show as much as you felt it.

Before your brain could start going with possibilities, Fanboy interrupted the silence.

“Man, Anakin and Padme are so perfect. I want what they have, don’t you Bobby?”

Bob opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on, “Yeah.”

Fanboy rolled his eyes, clapping a hand on Bob’s shoulder, “Come on, having a girl like that? That’s true love, dude.”

Bob nodded, eyes flicking between the movie and Fanboy. “Yeah… yeah, they’re great.”

You could see Phoenix side eyeing you throughout this entire interaction. You felt tense, uncomfortable, and heavily confused.

Phoenix pulled out her phone and started typing. Moments later, you felt a buzz in your pocket. She had texted you:

“What’s going on with you two?”

You paused for a moment, biting your lip before typing out:

“I’m not sure. He’s been weird today.”

She started typing again, and you were beginning to consider taking out your phone and texting Bob to see if he was okay, when you all got a message in your groupchat from Bradley:

“Rented a house in La Jolla for this weekend. All of you better be there.”

“Well,” Phoenix announced, “Guess we’re going to La Jolla this weekend.”

“What?” Fanboy sat up immediately, looking to Phoenix for an explanation.

“Check your phone,” she said.

Fanboy pulled out his phone, reading the message and immediately followed with, “Hell yeah!”

You looked over at Bob, who was grinning at his phone as he thumbed up the message.

“Shit,” you said, “I work all weekend. I can’t make it.”

“What!” Phoenix said, slapping your arm gently, “You can’t leave me alone with all of these boys. I’m sure Penny wouldn’t mind if you took the weekend off.”

Fanboy turned to you, chipping in, “Yeah, dude, just pick up some extra shifts next week.”

You sighed, letting your head fall back. Penny has been so good to you, and you hate to hang her out to dry like that. Then again, you also would hate to miss an entire weekend with all of your best friends. Especially Bob. Who hadn’t said anything.

As if on que, Fanboy turned to Bob, encouraging him to speak, “Come on, Bobby. Tell her to come. We all know she will if you tell her to.”

All attention turned to your best friend. You could feel your face turning bright red, hoping that he only meant that in a platonic way, and not as an assumption of anything more.

Bob finally looked at you, still not making eye contact when he said, “Yeah, I’m sure Penny wouldn’t mind.”

You sighed in resignation, “Fine, I’ll text her and ask if she will be fine without me.”

“YES!” Phoenix said, standing out of her chair to high five Fanboy before adding, “Bob, that was the weakest attempt to convince someone I’ve ever seen.”

Fanboy chuckled before saying, “Still worked for her.”

Phoenix and Fanboy continued laughing as I pretended to be very focused on texting Penny. I only glanced up momentarily to see Bob staring at the screen.

The rest of the night was a little bit less tense as you settled in for the rest of the movie. You must have dozed off on the arm rest of the couch because when you opened your eyes, the movie was over and Phoenix wasn’t next to you anymore.

You felt a hand softly tapping you on the shoulder, and you sat up gently, willing your eyes to focus. Bob sat on the edge of the couch, hand retracting from tapping you.

“Bobby?” You mumble out, brain not fully awake yet.

“You fell asleep,” he said softly, standing from his seated position, “It’s almost midnight.”

You rubbed your eyes with your palms, waking up and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

He nodded, smiling sheepishly and taking a step back, “It’s okay.”

You stood up, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 11:58. “I guess I’d better get back, Jake will be back soon.”

He nodded again, not saying anything. Normally, this was the part where he’d walk you 10 feet down the hall to your apartment, give you a hug, and say goodnight. You knew it was against your better judgement, but you decided to ask anyway.

“You gonna walk me back?”

He rocked back and forth on his feet, not making eye contact, “I— uh, I should really get to bed.”

You frowned, becoming even more perplexed than you had been all day. You nodded, taking a step toward the door before turning back to him.

“Did I do something, Bobby?”

His eyes went wide, and he shook his head quickly, “No. No, I just— I uh, I’m tired too.”

You nodded, quickly debating in your head whether you wanted to bring up what has been bothering you all day. You had never hesitated to share your discontentments with him in the past, so why should you stop now?

“You didn’t text me this morning,” you said, frowning at him.

He still stood at the edge of the living room, and you by the door. He looked surprised, and you swore you saw just a trace of sadness in his eyes when he spoke.

He took a step closer, “I’m sorry.”

You stepped away from the door, moving to stand closer to him. “Bobby…”

The door swung open behind you, and a very riled up Jake walked in, completely ruining your chances of having a real conversation with Bob.

“I knew I’d find you in here,” Jake said, extending an arm to wrap around you. “You down for a little road trip this weekend?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing in exasperation, “I texted Penny, I’ll have to see if I can take off work.”

“Hell yeah!” Jake said, pointing at Bob, “You in, Bobster?”

Bob nodded, smiling, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “Yeah, sounds fun.”

You locked eyes with Bob for a moment, but he quickly broke the eye contact.

After Jake and Bob hashed out some details about this weekend, you went your separate ways. You tossed and turned in bed for at least forty five minutes before eventually dozing off.

The next morning, as always, you were awoken by Jake’s alarm at 5 o’clock on the dot. You grabbed a pillow, pulling it over your head and attempting to muffle the sounds. Next door, you could hear Fanboy’s loud choice to use the blender again this morning. You shook your head, waiting until the noise went away before finally trying to sleep.

You had just started to doze off when you heard your phone buzz on your side table. You almost grabbed it immediately, hopeful that things were back to normal today, but then stopped yourself. The last thing you needed was to dig yourself further into the misery of being in unrequited love with your best friend.

It took a few minutes, but eventually you worked up the courage to check your phone. You told yourself that you wouldn’t care whether it was a text from him, or a promotional email from some brand you didn’t care about.

You knew that you were lying to yourself, but you picked up your phone and your eyes focused on a message. From Bob:

“Good morning, sweetheart. I’m sorry about the noise. Hope you slept well.”

Your heart fluttered, and you nearly dropped your phone in surprise. Not only did he text you, but he called you sweetheart. In your entire year of friendship, neither of you called each other by anything other than your real names. Sometimes you called him Bobby, but everyone else did too, and neither of you have ever crossed this line.

You had made several attempts through the past eleven months to flirt with the man, and show him any sign that you liked him, but he never ever showed signs of anything beyond pure platonic friendship.

Could this be a turning point?

Or maybe he just felt bad about how he acted the day before, and this was his way of showing that. You decided not to let yourself read into it— especially not after the emotional whirlwind of yesterday. You ultimately decide that you should at least try to fall back asleep before responding.

At 8 am, your alarm went off. You checked your phone to see two things.

1. Penny had responded, giving you the green light to take off for this weekend.

2. There was now the little blue ‘edited’ sign under Bob’s text from earlier, and the word ‘sweetheart’ had been removed.

You frowned, sitting up in bed and scanning over the message again, and again to make sure you hadn't dreamt the whole thing. Sure enough, the editing history was still there, and you hadn't imagined any of it.

You typed out several responses ranging from: "Sweetheart?????" to "No worries. Hope u have a good day." After typing and erasing nearly fifty different versions of the message, you decided just to get out of bed and respond later.

You got dressed and went on a quick run to clear your head. As much as you wanted to spend your day going over every intention that your best friend might possibly have with his strange sequence of messaging lately, you couldn't let yourself fixate on it.

When Jake first suggested that you moved to North Island with him, it wasn't so you could come here and let your mind be consumed by a man. You moved here to start fresh, and to stay close to the only person in your life who you had ever been able to rely on— your brother. It felt like a disgrace to everything you've worked for to let yourself be so consumed by one little text message.

And yet, it still managed to sneak its way into your thoughts for the entire day.

It wasn't until late afternoon, right before your shift at the Hard Deck, that you finally managed to respond without allowing it to fully consume your brain. You typed out a simple: "No worries lol," before turning your attention to your job.

The Hard Deck was absurdly crowded for a Wednesday night, and you hardly had time to think about anything beyond pouring alcohol and serving pilots for the entire evening. You hadn't even managed to check the time once until it was nearly closing time.

It was late when you finally arrived back at your apartment. Normally you would have been home much earlier, but since you were taking the weekend off you decided to stick around after closing to help Penny restock the bar and mop the floors.

It was quiet, your brother was either in bed already or at Bradley’s again. You made your way around your apartment as quietly as possible, quickly getting ready for bed.

You had successfully avoided overthinking for hours, but the second you tried to fall asleep your mind swirled with images of Robert Floyd. You tried moving in five different sleeping positions, blankets on, blankets off, and even flipping your pillow over. Your mind still wouldn’t leave your best friend. Eventually, you dozed off with an attempt to count sheep, but all of the sheep had blue eyes and glasses.

When Friday rolled around, you couldn’t wait for the weekend. Phoenix had come over the night before to help you pack, and you’d spent the entire evening talking about how fun it will be for everyone to kick back and relax together for an entire weekend.

Of course the Dagger Squad had been away together plenty of times; for missions, training exercises, even short day trips. However, it would be your first time traveling with everyone. As much as you were still reeling over the many uncertainties with Bob from this week, you were ready to put that aside for the weekend and enjoy the time with your closest friends.

The plan was for you and Jake to leave at noon, and everyone would be at the house by 1. It wasn’t much of a getaway, but it was enough for a fun weekend. Due to Jake being Jake, you didn’t get on the road until almost 1, so you knew everyone would be waiting at the house for you.

The car ride wasn’t long, but if you had to listen to Jake singing “Born in the U.S.A.” one more time, you might have lost your mind. You took the time to catch up on text messages. All morning you had been helping Jake when he was scrambling to pack, get beer for the weekend, and find his ‘hottest’ swim trunks just in case any ‘chicks’ would be on the beach.

You had a missed text from your mom, asking you to remind Jake to give her a call every once in a while. You also had a couple texts from Phoenix: “R u on the road yet?” immediately followed by “Just got here. There aren’t enough rooms. Pls share with me. I can’t get stuck with one of these morons.”

You quickly typed out a response, completely unsurprised by the fact that Bradley and your brother failed to book a house with enough rooms for everyone. There was one more text you hadn’t read yet, from your best friend.

You hadn’t seen him at all since the movie night. After the ‘sweetheart’ incident, things had mostly gone back to normal. You’d exchanged a few texts here and there, but nothing extensive. He hadn’t texted this morning, but with all of the scrambling that you’d done helping Jake, you hardly noticed.

You opened the message, reading it and laughing:

“They seriously couldn’t get enough rooms? I’m stuck with Fanboy here too. Ugh. Help.”

You knew he wasn’t being totally serious— after all, Fanboy was Bob’s closest friend out of the squad. He just needed to complain. Before you could type your response, Jake lowered the fourth playing of “Born in the U.S.A.” and spoke up.

“What’s funny?” he asked, taking his eyes off of the road briefly to glance at your phone.

You shook your head, smirking, “Bob and Fanboy are stuck rooming together again.”

Jake snorted, eyes focused back on the road. “Damn. I thought he’d want to share with you.”

“W- what?” You stuttered, face turning red?

Jake shrugged, eyes still on the road as he casually said, “I mean, I assumed he’d want at least one weekend without Fanboy breathing down his neck. Plus, if you haven’t noticed— the dude is obsessed with you.”

You shook your head, “Bob is not obsessed with me.”

Jake rolled his eyes, taking his eyes off the road for long enough to give you a look that said ‘seriously?’

“You should see the look on his face when he talks about you,” Jake said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “He’s just nice. He loves everyone.”

Jake sighed, as if this conversation was exhausting him, “Let me give you a life lesson, little sister. If a man is texting you every single morning, it’s because he wants to get in your pants. If Bob weren’t such a good guy, I would’ve told him to leave you alone months ago. As much as it disgusts me to say— he’s the only person on the team who I wouldn’t mind getting in my sisters pants.”

You scrunched up your face, now uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. “Wait. How do you know about the texts? And can we not talk about anyone getting in my pants?”

Jake clicked his tongue, looking at you one last time before saying, “Fine, don’t take advice from your big brother. But don’t say I didn’t tell you when you and Baby-On-Board are in eachother’s pants by the end of the weekend.”

“Enough of the pants talk!”

When you finally pulled up to the house, your face had managed to get a little bit less red, and you couldn’t wait to get settled in.

The house was cute and beachy, with blue shutters and a screened in porch on the side. You thought it was perfect, but it looked like nothing compared to the gigantic mansions that lined the block. You gaped at each one of them, in shock that people actually own those places.

Phoenix and Reuben were sitting on the porch attached to the entry way and greeted you as you began to unload the car. Just as you were carrying in your first bag, Bob appeared at the front door to take your bag from you.

“Let me get that,” he said, smiling gently.

“Thank you, Bobby,” you said, smiling back, allowing him to take it and heading outside to grab the rest of your things.

While you were getting settled in, you took a quick tour around the house with Phoenix. There was a long hallway where most of the bedrooms were. Bradley and Jake were sharing a room at the end of the hall, Reuben and Coyote’s room was next to theirs, and you and Phoenix had the bedroom closest to the living room.

At the end of the hallway was a large living area, with two couches directly facing each other, and a couple reclining chairs around the room all central to the TV that was mounted on the wall. The whole space felt very laid back— all white furniture with blue accents and nautical designs.

There was no wall separating the living room from the kitchen, instead it was completely open. When you had the tour, you could see Fanboy and Bradley already beginning to take shots.

The smallest part of the house was the downstairs. In the basement, there was one bedroom, which was where Fanboy and Bob were staying. There was also a pool table, and a sliding door that led directly to a small, private beach.

The house was beautiful, and you were completely ready to spend the entire weekend relaxing with your friends.

By the time you and Jake were all unpacked and settled in, it sounded like there was a full rave going on in the kitchen. You exited your bedroom and walked toward the living room, immediately seeing Reuben, Bradley, Fanboy, and Coyote playing some drinking game around the kitchen table like they were in college.

Bob— of course—was off to the side, leaning on the kitchen counter—shaking his head and quietly sipping his beer. Phoenix was sitting on the couch scrolling through tv channels but seeming to find nothing interesting.

You walked to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and leaned on the counter next to your best friend.

"They're idiots," you said, observing whatever strange game it was that the boys were playing.

Bob chuckled, looking at you and saying, "I'm surprised your brother hasn't joined them yet."

As if on cue, Jake walked into the living room, shirtless (of course) and way too excited for 3pm. He quickly got himself involved in the drinking game, drinking more than he should so he could catch up to the others.

It wasn't long before someone brought up the idea of checking out the beach. All of the boys hurried down, not even bothering to change into their bathing suits before running down to the private beach.

You, Phoenix, and Bob were the only ones still in the house—taking your time to change into your bathing suits and grab towels.

You had just finished changing in your shared room when Phoenix spoke up, "So, do you think you and Bob are finally going to get together this weekend?"

"What?" You responded nervously, feeling your face get hot instantly.

Phoenix laughed, opening the door before saying, "Come on, we all know its bound to happen one of these days. He's crazy about you and you're clearly in love with him."

"Phoenix!" you whisper-shouted, pointing at the door, "He could hear you! And I'm not in love with him."

She shook her head, smirking when she responded, "Alright. Whatever. Meet you outside?"

You nodded, sighing. You stared at your towel for a moment before sitting down on your bed and putting your head in your hands. Had you been so transparent? Did everyone know that you were head over heels for Bob Floyd? Or even worse: Did he know?

You laid back on your bed, reaching for your phone to try to distract yourself before you going out with the others. Only thirty seconds had passed since you started scrolling on Instagram before you heard a knocking on your door. You glanced up from your phone, expecting Phoenix to be back with more taunts, but instead you saw the object of your affection standing at the door.

"Hey," Bob said, "You going down to the beach?"

He was standing there looking absolutely adorable in his bathing suit and t-shirt, but you didn't allow yourself to admire him—too afraid of making your affection even more noticeable than it apparently already was.

"Yeah," you said, sitting up but purposefully avoiding eye contact, "I'll be down soon."

He stood there for a moment, not saying anything before stepping into your room and sitting on your bed just inches away from you. He just sat there for a moment, silently.

"Hey..." he said quietly, looking to you, "Are we okay?"

Your eyes shot up, locking with his. The mixture of emotions that were running through your system were making you feel like your skin was buzzing. Then again, it always felt that way when he sat this close to you.

You nodded, swallowing your words. If you tried to speak, you were afraid of what might come out.

He sighed, breaking eye contact for just a moment before saying, "I was kind of an asshole the other day. And things have been... weird... between us. I'm not imagining that, am I?"

You shook your head, allowing yourself a light laugh and shrugging your shoulders, "You haven't been imagining that. It has been weird. And you weren't an asshole, you said you were tired that night. It's not a big deal."

It was quiet for a moment. Bob nodded, cracking a smile at you as he said, "So can we just go back to normal? I missed you this week, and I totally can't get through this weekend without you."

A laugh escaped from you again, and you nodded, leaning your head onto his shoulder. "Yes please. I don't think I can get through this weekend without you either."

He laughed, and you felt him brush a piece of hair from your face. You lifted your head, looking into his eyes before laughing again and saying, “I can’t believe you’re rooming with Fanboy.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back and saying “I’m so pissed off. Like why couldn’t someone else room with him for two days.”

You nudged him with your elbow, “Hey, if you want to switch I can go stay with Fanboy and you can room with Phoenix.”

He snorted, “Yeah, right. I’d rather just share with you.”

Heat slowly started making its way under your skin at the comment, but you laughed it off. You had begun to stand, ready to head out to meet the others when a hand snaked around your wrist, pulling you back down to your seat on the bed.

Your eyes shot to his, surprised by his sudden act of boldness. You were going to say something, but his mouth opened to speak, so you waited. It was unclear what he was going to say, because before he could get a full word out, your brother entered the room.

"Oh shit!" Jake practically shouted, raising his hands up and stepping away (more like a drunk stumble), "Didn't know I was interrupting something."

"You weren't interrupting anything," you assured, glancing to your best friend for assistance. He said nothing.

Jake dramatically covered his eyes, saying, "Well, I was just coming to see if you wanted to come outside. And Bobby, we need an extra for football."

Bob sighed, "Again?"

"What do you mean 'again'? You're lucky I'm asking you to be on my team before Rooster." Jake said, uncovering his eyes.

"Alright, alright," Bob said in resignation, "I'll be out."

Jake raised an eyebrow, "You'll 'be out'? Wh-You can't come out now? Need another minute alone with my baby sister?"

You groaned, sharply saying "Jake."

Jake pointed at you, smirking, "I told you! Remember our talk in the car!"

"Jake!" You shouted at him as you felt heat rising to your face, "If you don't get your drunk ass out of my room right now-"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Jake argued, turning and heading back to the living room to go back to the beach.

Neither you nor Bob spoke for what felt like a century, until you decided to break the silence and the uneasy tension.

"Sorry about that. He's an idiot when he drinks."

"Yeah, I know," Bob said, not making eye contact with you.

It was quiet for another moment before he said, "I guess I shouldn't keep them waiting too long."

You nodded, standing up, "Yeah, right. I'll come out too."

When you and Bob finally got down to the beach, you didn't miss the obvious grin Phoenix shot at you both. The beach wasn't large, but it was beautiful. It was about 100 yards from the house, and all you had to do was walk through the backyard and down some stone steps to reach it. It was a mix of sand and rocks that lined the water. The house next door was situated on a cliff that directly dropped off into the water, so they didn't have a beach. The other neighbor had a small beach about the same size as ours, but nobody was on it.

The football game quickly started and you could immediately tell that half of your male friends were already past the point of sobriety.

"Don't want to join in?" You asked Phoenix, who was sitting on a cooler and sipping slowly on a beer.

"Nah. It's more entertaining to watch them fall over themselves," she said, pointing as Fanboy stumbled directly into Reuben.

After a couple more hours, the night started to quiet down as you all retreated inside. After everyone showered and changed for the night, Jake and Bradley took the responsibility of ordering food to be delivered for everyone. Most of the boys seemed to have sobered up since the afternoon.

It wasn't long until you all migrated to the living room, ready to get the evening started. When you first walked out, Reuben and Coyote were trying to convince everyone to go to some club that was only ten minutes from the house. To your surprise, everyone— including your brother— declined, opting for a quieter night at the house. You weren't complaining, having already changed into your pjs for the night.

What started out as a quiet night quickly became rowdy as soon as Jake and Bradley began playing some drinking game that you hadn't played since college called 'Ride the Bus'. You didn't remember the rules, but you knew that Fanboy was the first to play and he was also the first to become noticeably intoxicated.

Everyone was fascinated with this game, and eventually you all were sitting around the living room laughing every time someone had to 'ride the bus'. It didn't take long before the game devolved into truth or drink.

You were only on your second drink of the night, but the atmosphere was making you feel a little bit more tipsy than you normally would. Everyone was speaking loudly, laughing hard, and being a little bit too honest.

Your friends had taken the liberty of rearranging the furniture so you were all close enough that you could reach out and share a drink if you really wanted to. You were seated on one of the two couches, in between Bob and Jake. Every time Bob so much as spoke to you, Jake would give you a side-eyed look— like he was trying to say 'told you'.

The warmth of your buzz allowed you to feel comfortable enough sitting close to your best friend without feeling like your whole body was about to catch on fire. Your thighs were pressed together and if you leaned to your left an inch you would have practically been cuddling. It wasn't abnormal for you two to sit close together, but with the weirdness lately it did feel slightly different. It almost felt new.

"Want me to grab you another?" You heard from beside you. Bob was holding up his own drink, and looking down to your empty vodka soda.

You nodded, smiling at him, "Yes, please."

He nodded, smiling back and stood from the couch to head to the kitchen. You immediately felt a nudge on your right arm, and you looked to find Jake making the 'told you' face again.

"Your turn, Hangman," Bradley said from the other couch.

Jake smirked, looking individually at each one of your friends before locking eyes with you. His smirk grew.

"Little sister," he started, "Truth or drink... Are you in love with our weapons systems officer, Mr. Robert Floyd?"

Your face turned red, and your eyes shot to the kitchen— which was about twenty feet away. Luckily, the speaker that was playing music happened to be in the kitchen, right next to where Bob was making your drink. If he heard anything he certainly didn't show it.

You desperately wanted to drink, to opt out of telling the truth, but your drink was empty. Your new one was being made by Bob. You did the only thing you could think of, and snatched your brother's beer out of his hand, taking a long sip.

Shouts and laughs echoed around the circle, as everyone processed what was going on.

"I knew it!" Fanboy said, looking back and forth between you and Bob, who was still in the kitchen.

"Okay, okay. It's my turn now." You said hastily, trying to get everyone to move on. There were still small comments and jokes being made, but you continued speaking as soon as you saw Bob begin to walk back from the kitchen.

"Jake." Your eyes narrowed at your brother, "Truth or drink..."

"Here we go," Jake mumbled, turning to face you, awaiting your next words.

"Have you ever thought about kissing Bradley?" you asked, glancing over as Bob returned on the couch next to you. He handed you your drink, and you thanked him, blushing. He made it exactly how you liked it-- more soda than vodka, and three limes.

"Hm, let me think," Jake said, pausing for a moment, then loudly announcing, "Of course I've thought about kissing Rooster. In a bro way though, of course."

Everyone started laughing, except for Bradley who was completely committed to the bit— coming over to kiss Jake on the cheek. Jake immediately pulled away, wiping his palm against his cheek and making a disgusted face.

The night carried on like that for a while, until eventually most of your friends were either too drunk or too tired to continue. Coyote and Reuben were passed out on both of the couches, Fanboy had gone to bed about an hour ago, Bradley was on the porch eating some leftovers from dinner, Jake was in the kitchen making some weird smoothie that he claimed 'prevented hangovers', and Phoenix was retiring to bed after shaking her head at how everyone was going to feel the next morning.

The only ones left, and a little bit drunk, were you and Bob. You had both been really good about not drinking too much, so now when everyone else was done for the night, you both felt fine.

He sat next to you on the floor, laughing at some stupid TikTok you were showing him. You weren't sure when it happened, but your legs were thrown over his and his arm rested behind you on the floor.

"You want another?" He asked, pausing a video on your phone and gesturing to your drink on the ground.

You thought about it for a second, but your drunk thoughts drifted from the drink to how you could feel your best friend's breath on your neck, and you started laughing.

"You're drunk," he said, laughing with you. You could see the glassy look in his eyes, and the slight flush of his face that told you that he was just as out of it as you were.

"So are you," you said, scooting closer to him.

He blushed, looking back at your phone, which was still paused on a video. "Just a little," he mumbled.

"I love when I get to see Drunk Bob," you said, giggling, "You're so funny when you're drunk."

He looked back up at you, and you could feel his breath on your face, "You're cute when you're drunk," he whispered, so quietly you almost didn't catch it.

You blushed, and before you could think straight you pressed a kiss to his cheek. You pulled away quickly, afraid of how he might react, but he was smiling bashfully at you, face even more flushed.

He quickly moved forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Your face was burning. You were so close to leaning in and just--

"Get a room, losers," your brother called out, now just feet in front of you. He was holding his smoothie in one hand and pointing at the two of you with his other.

"Jake," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Goodnight, sis," he said, beginning to walk away, but not without sending you a wink first. "Goodnight, Bobby!" he called as he began to walk down the hall to his room.

It was quiet for a moment after Jake left, but you quickly shifted your focus back to your phone to show Bob another video.

You stayed like that for a while, eventually turning off your phone and talking in hushed voices to avoid waking Reuben and Coyote. The thing about you and Bob was that given the chance— you could talk for hours. About anything and everything. You loved talking to this man.

Earlier in the week flashed back into your mind— the one night you went over to Bob's apartment and you couldn't talk like this. It all flashed back in your mind quickly. When he didn't text you, the awkwardness, how he didn't walk you home, the sweetheart text.

"You still with me?" Bob asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

You blushed, eyes scanning his face as you whispered, "I'm glad we're back to normal."

"What do you mean?" he asked, scooting closer so that his arm wrapped around your lower back.

You shivered at the touch, but said, "Earlier this week, it was weird, and I'm just glad we're us again. I missed you, Bobby."

Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek again. He looked away shyly, and began to speak, "So, about that..."

Just as he started talking, Bradley opened the front door. He looked around the room, eyes landing on the two of you. 'Sorry,' he mouthed, wincing. He quickly made his way across the room, throwing his plate out in the kitchen and heading down the hall to his room.

As soon as he left, you turned to Bob again, saying, "What were you going to say?"

Bob shook his head, wrapping his arm tighter around your back and said, "You ready for bed?"

You yawned, nodding and checking your watch. 2:07am. "Wow, it is late," you said.

Bob nodded, leaning farther into you, not getting up.

You leaned forward as well, tucking your head into his chest and closing your eyes. "Do you wish we were sharing a room?" you mumbled into his chest, body too tired to get up.

You could feel him nod, but he didn't say anything out loud.

"That would be nice," you said into his shirt, "then you could carry me to bed so I wouldn't have to get up."

Before you could say anything else, an arm tucked under your legs and Bob was lifting you into the air. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly.

"Still can," he mumbled, beginning to walk toward the hallway with your bedroom.

You thought he was going to head straight to your room, but instead you looked up to see him heading in the direction of the bathroom. He kicked the door open, and went to set you down on the counter. He flicked the light on— making you cover your eyes from the harsh adjustment.

Before you could ask why exactly you were in the bathroom together, he handed you your toothbrush. You were too tired at that point to say anything, so you brushed your teeth in silence. He was standing, facing the mirror, and you were still sitting on the counter, watching his arms as he brushed his teeth.

A fleeting thought popped into your head about how domestic this all felt, but even in your still tipsy state you knew to push it away before you thought too much. You turned and spit in the sink, and Bob handed you a small cup to rinse with.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," you nodded, smiling at your best friend.

You weren't sure what was going through your head after that— probably a mixture of how close you had been all night, how he carried you, and watching his arms— but you reached out and tugged on his shirt so he would be closer to you.

He obliged, stepping closer to the counter so that he stood between your legs. "You ready for bed?" he asked quietly, a hand extending to grip on your waist.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. His face was only inches from yours, and you could feel his exhale on your lips.

"What are you doing?" He mumbled, eyes searching your face.

Your fingers played with the hair on the back of his head, and you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "You are my favorite, Bobby."

He sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my favorite, too."

"I don't know what I would do without you," you whispered, still playing with his hair.

He exhaled, silent for a moment before saying, "I don't know what I would do without you, either."

His glasses started to slide down his nose, so you removed one hand from his hair and reached to gently slide them back up. His other hand went to your waist, squeezing gently.

"You're so pretty," you whispered, looking into his eyes through his glasses.

He chuckled quietly, "You don't even know how pretty you are."

You blushed, feeling an entire nest of butterflies being released in your stomach.

"Bobby..." you whispered, eyes flickering to his lips. You slowly leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away and looking at his face.

He stepped back— just a little bit, taking a deep breath in and shaking his head. His hands stayed on your waist.

"We can't," he said softly, looking deeply into your eyes.

"What?" You asked, suddenly confused. You wanted to pull him closer.

You didn't have to, he stepped closer anyway. He leaned in again, connecting your foreheads and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, just as you had done to him moments before.

"Okay, now it's time for bed." He said, and before you could argue, he grabbed underneath both of your legs and lifted you off the counter. He carried you to your door, and paused for a moment.

"I don't want to wake Phoenix," he whispered to you.

You shook your head, mumbling out, "She won't mind. She told me."

He laughed quietly, "Okay. Not sure what that means. But good enough for me."

Next thing you knew, he was quietly opening your door and stepping into your room. He stepped softly across the floor until he reached your bed, setting you down as quietly as possible. He was about to turn to leave, but you held onto his hand.

He closed his eyes, sighing, and turned toward you again, letting go of your hand and pulling the blankets up over your shoulders.

"I wish you could stay," you whispered, your exhaustion and the remaining alcohol in your system making you feel bold.

He sat on the edge of your bed, brushing hair out of your face, and whispered, "That wouldn't be a good idea."

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Why not?"

He sighed again, folding his hands across his lap. "We're drunk."

"I've always wanted to cuddle with you, Bobby," you whispered, closing your eyes.

"Y-you have?" he asked, voice sounding a little bit louder than you think he meant.

You nodded, opening your eyes again and smiling up at him in the dark room. "Maybe tomorrow?" you asked.

He laughed quietly, whispering, "You're drunk."

You glared at him, asking again, "Maybe tomorrow?"

He smiled softly, shaking his head, "Sure, maybe tomorrow, sweetheart."

Your breath caught slightly at his last world. You smiled like an idiot up at him, your eyes closing again just for a second. Your tiredness was beginning to take over.

The last thing you remember is your best friend leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead, and the butterflies you got right before you fell asleep.

The next morning you awoke with a headache and a mouth drier than sand paper. Phoenix had already left your room when you finally got out of bed, so you headed out to the living room.

Jake looked like he just got back from a five mile run, and was cooking eggs in the kitchen for a very hungover Bradley. Fanboy was looking in the refrigerator and squinting as if the light was hurting his eyes. Phoenix was sitting at the table, eating a bagel and fruit. Nobody else was up yet.

You walked slowly to the kitchen, stopping to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator before making your way to sit at the table with Phoenix. What you didn’t realize, was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you moved. Just as you sat down, your brother cleared his throat, looking at you pointedly.

You looked up, taking a sip of your water and said, “Yes?”

“You were up late last night,” he said, voice laced with innuendo.

“Was I?” You asked, taking another sip of water.

Phoenix spoke from beside you, “Yeah, actually, you didn’t come to the room until long after I went to bed.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair, “Well I wasn’t as drunk as anyone else. I lasted longer.”

“And how long did he last?” Jake said, smirking and plating the eggs for Bradley.

Somewhere in all the commotion Fanboy made his way to the table, and seemed to choke on water after Jake’s comment.

“Is that where he was last night?” Fanboy asked, pounding on his chest and still coughing.

You rolled your eyes, loudly addressing everyone, “We stayed up talking. That’s not weird for friends to do. Okay? Now everyone can drop it.”

Bradley joined the three of you at the table, taking a bite of his eggs. “And that’s all that happened?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, trying to drop the subject.

“Well I remember seeing you,” he pointed to you with his fork for emphasis, “All over our buddy Bob last night. You were practically on top of him when I went to bed.”

You sighed, shaking your head, “Seriously. You can ask him. Even if something were going to happen, I don’t think he would’ve wanted it to.”

Everyone began to talk over each other, asking questions about what you had just said— but they quickly stopped as soon as Bob emerged from the stairs.

He didn’t look at you once all morning.

part 2?

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Your honor, he's not my type. (part four)

pairing; jake seresin x fem!reader

summary; Enemies with a deal: play the perfect couple for one week. But in the heart of Texas, under one roof and one lie too many… They forget where the act ends and the feelings begin.

word count; 3.2k

warnings; fake dating au, enemies to lovers, age gap (reader is in her late twenties, jake's in his late thirties), reader has mommy issues (too self-indulgent haha), slight angst, happy ending

a/n; so sorry for the delay!!! i had to rewrite this part because i wasn't sure of the ending. THERE WILL BE A FIFTH PART!!! 🫶🏻

series masterlist

masterlist

The boot store smelled like leather and sawdust and something deeply, irrevocably Western. Like the moment you crossed the threshold, some unseen force whispered yeehaw directly into your soul.

The place was huge. Rows upon rows of boots, belts, and hats lined the walls like the world’s most aggressive country music museum. A taxidermy longhorn head stared at you with judgment from above the cashier’s desk, and Johnny Cash crooned softly through dusty overhead speakers.

You didn’t just stick out — you looked like you’d wandered in from an entirely different movie.

Jake’s mom, on the other hand, was in her element. She was already halfway across the store, beckoning you excitedly toward a display. “These just came in, sweetheart! Let’s start here!”

You followed dutifully, trying not to wobble in your loafers. “Do they come in… black patent leather?”

Jake snorted. “No, but maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll bedazzle a pair for you.”

You shot him a look, grabbed a boot with rhinestones and threatened him with it.

“Careful,” he grinned. “That’s a weapon in the wrong hands.”

“This is the wrong hands,” you deadpanned.

Jake leaned against a nearby shelf, arms crossed, watching you with unconcealed amusement. “You gonna survive this, city mouse?”

“I’ve done worse,” you said, managing to tug one boot onto your foot. “I survived bar prep.”

“Sure,” he said. “But did bar prep require decorative stitching and steel toes?”

You wobbled slightly as you stood, adjusting the boot. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look…” Jake trailed off as he took you in, one hand casually sliding into his pocket, head tilted. “...like you just got cast in a reboot of Bonanza.”

You flipped him off behind his mother’s back. He laughed like you’d complimented him.

“Try this pair too,” his mom said, handing you another set of boots. You tried those. And then another. You were half-wearing one when she suddenly appeared with a wide-brimmed straw hat and dropped it right onto your head.

“Oh, God,” you muttered. “It’s happening. I’m being converted.”

Jake turned around from another aisle just in time to see you standing in front of the mirror: boots on, jeans tucked in, wide-brim hat sitting low over your eyes.

He froze for a second. Just one.

Then he smiled — and it was soft. Real.

“You actually…” he said, stepping closer, “look kind of adorable.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Adorable?”

“Adorably lost,” he amended, smirking again. “Like if you wandered onto a ranch, someone would probably take pity and feed you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “What a glowing review.”

Jake stepped beside you in the mirror, leaned down a little, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head — feather-light, familiar, way too natural for what was supposed to be a charade.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his in the mirror. For a heartbeat, it was quiet between you. His hand brushed your lower back. Your mouth felt dry.

“Alright,” you said finally, clearing your throat and turning away. “Boots acquired. I now possess one percent cowboy energy.”

Jake grinned. “I’m proud of you, Boston.”

And then—

“Oh my God, Jake?”

You both turned in unison.

A woman stood at the edge of the aisle, her blonde hair catching the light, eyes bright and familiar in a way that immediately made your stomach knot. She was exactly what you would’ve pictured if someone had asked you to draw “Jake’s type”: the kind of girl every Southern boy wrote love songs about — sweet and sun-kissed, a sundress skimming her frame like she’d just stepped out of a Nicholas Sparks adaptation.

Jake went still beside you. His shoulders tensed, his jaw ticked. “Lila.”

So this was her.

The ex. The reason you were even standing here in a borrowed pair of boots.

You caught it instantly — the flash of discomfort he didn’t quite hide, the subtle way his stance shifted like he’d braced for impact. She, of course, looked completely unbothered, as if running into him was the most casual thing in the world.

“It’s been forever,” she said with a soft laugh, closing the space between them. Her voice was light, teasing, just a touch too warm. “Wow. Look at you.”

Jake’s charm flickered back on like muscle memory, his drawl sliding into place. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Her eyes drifted, curious, polite — and then landed on you. That’s when your pulse jumped.

Showtime.

Sliding an arm around Jake’s waist, you pressed yourself flush against his side, tilting your chin just enough to meet her gaze with your most flawless, practiced smile.

“Hi,” you said smoothly, following with your name. Then, with a playful little shrug, you added, “Although I don’t know if my name really fits my new cowgirl personality.”

Jake blinked, caught off guard. For one half-second, you saw the corner of his mouth twitch — admiration, maybe amusement — before he recovered, his arm curling over your shoulders, tugging you in closer. His thumb began brushing slow, lazy circles on your upper arm, and you almost flinched at how convincing it felt.

“Mom’s converting her,” he said lightly. “One boot at a time.”

Lila’s smile brightened, though you didn’t miss the faint flicker in her eyes as she studied you both. “That’s so great. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lila.”

You extended your hand with a saccharine smile that screamed I win. “Pleasure. I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

Jake didn’t correct you, didn’t even hesitate. Just smiled that easy Seresin smile — and pressed his thumb into your shoulder in a slow, appreciative circle that nearly gave you away.

Lila glanced between the two of you — evaluating, weighing, maybe even doubting — but her expression never cracked from pleasant perfection.

“Well,” she said finally, with a little wave. “I’ll see you both at the wedding.”

“Can’t wait,” you said sweetly.

Only when she was gone did you realize how tightly you were still holding onto Jake.

You waited until she was truly gone before pulling away from Jake, crossing your arms. “Well. That was fun.”

Jake exhaled, still smiling faintly. “You’re scary when you commit.”

You turned to him. “You hesitated.”

Jake blinked. “I—what?”

“You hesitated before you introduced me.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did. There was a pause.”

Jake squinted at you. “Are we seriously debriefing this like it’s a courtroom cross?”

You arched an eyebrow. “You’re welcome, by the way. I sold the hell out of that.”

Jake smiled again, and this time, it was something different — softer, edged with something warm and unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said. “You really did.”

-

The next few days played out like a highlight reel from a romantic comedy — the kind with the perfectly curated soundtrack and golden-hour lighting, where no one talked about their feelings but every glance said too much.

It started innocently enough.

Jake had the audacity to look comfortable in every situation — whether he was helping his mom haul firewood like a walking Levi’s ad, or teasing you mercilessly when you stepped outside in your city sneakers again and promptly sank into the mud.

“You’re not even trying to blend in,” he laughed, steadying you by the elbow as you flailed.

“This place is trying to kill me,” you hissed, gripping his arm for balance. “It smells like hay and lies.”

So, naturally, he offered to teach you to ride a horse.

It went about as well as anyone could’ve predicted.

The sun was low and golden over his mom’s pasture, cicadas buzzing lazily in the heat. Jake stood in the middle of the fenced paddock like he’d been born there, reins in hand, ball cap tipped back, grinning at you like this was his life’s true purpose.

You, on the other hand, were perched stiffly on top of a patient old mare named Clementine, clinging to the saddle horn as if it were your only lifeline.

“Relax,” Jake called, giving Clementine’s flank a light pat. “She can sense fear.”

“She should,” you snapped, knuckles white on the leather. “I’m broadcasting it loud and clear.”

His grin widened, dimples flashing. “She’s the sweetest horse on the ranch. My cousins learned to ride on her. She’s practically a saint.”

“Then maybe she can also perform miracles,” you muttered, shifting like the saddle itself was plotting against you. “Because I’m going to die.”

Jake leaned against the fence, looking infuriatingly at ease. “City girl like you? Dying in boots? That’s a Texas tragedy.”

“Keep laughing,” you warned, “but if I fall off and break my neck, I’m haunting you.”

“Wouldn’t mind,” he said smoothly, eyes raking over you in a way that made your stomach flip. “Might even enjoy the company.”

Your retort was lost the second Clementine shifted under you. You yelped, clutching at the saddle horn with all the dignity of a kid on a carnival ride. Jake bit down on a laugh, which only made it worse.

“Don’t you dare—”

“Relax,” he repeated, moving closer. “Loosen up your knees, stop gripping like you’re in a rollercoaster harness. Horses aren’t machines, darlin’. You gotta work with her.”

“I am working with her,” you hissed. “I’m negotiating the terms of my survival.”

It took all of thirty seconds for your stubborn determination to collapse. You slid gracelessly off the horse, landing on shaky legs. Clementine gave a bored snort as if to say amateur.

Jake was there in an instant, catching you as you stumbled. Strong hands closed around your waist, steadying you before you could faceplant into the dirt. His face was suddenly far too close, breath warm against your cheek, eyes gleaming with that insufferable mix of amusement and something heavier.

“City girl’s got soft bones,” he drawled softly, voice pitched just for you.

You shoved at his chest, cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

He didn’t. Not even close. Jake just laughed, that wide, easy sound that carried all the way across the field. His hand lingered at your waist longer than necessary, thumb brushing your side before he finally stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” he said, cocky as ever. “We’ll toughen you up before the wedding’s over.”

You glared, brushing dirt off your jeans. “Pretty sure the only thing getting tougher is my patience.”

“Patience?” His grin turned slow, knowing. “Sweetheart, you’ve got more grit than you think. And don’t worry—” he tipped his hat at you like some insufferable cowboy out of a movie, “—I’ll be right here to catch you every time you fall.”

You hated that your heart skipped at that. You hated even more that he noticed.

And he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Later that evening, he found you wrapped in a blanket in front of the stone fireplace, eyes narrowed as you patted the spot beside you on the rug.

“It’s for the fantasy,” you told him primly.

Jake raised a brow. “Cuddling by the fire?”

“It’s romantic,” you argued. “We’re in love, remember?”

Jake had chuckled low in his throat — but he’d joined you anyway, settling behind you, arms wrapping around your waist like it was muscle memory.

And, okay — you hadn’t expected it to feel that nice. His chest was warm against your back. His chin fit perfectly over your shoulder. He smelled like firewood and pine and something deep and comforting that you refused to label.

The flames popped in the hearth. He played with your fingers. Neither of you spoke.

-

Breakfast on the porch, his mother watching you both from the kitchen with a pleased little smile while Jake slid your coffee mug closer and you offered him a bite of your toast.

You trying on an old denim jacket of his from high school — a bet you lost after attempting to learn line dancing at a neighborhood event his mom roped you into. Jake clutched his stomach from laughing too hard, claiming you looked like a “five-foot-tall ranch hand with no spatial awareness.”

You threw a boot at him.

And then one evening, she pulled you aside. Hands soft, warm, steady against your arm. Her voice quiet in the way that made it feel like a secret.

“I haven’t seen him like this in years,” she said, eyes crinkling with something tender. “Not since before his daddy passed. You’ve brought him back to life, sweetheart.”

Your mouth went dry. “I… I don’t know if that’s true.”

“It is.” She smiled, slow and certain. “He used to laugh like this all the time. Teasing, showing off, always with that big grin plastered on his face. After we lost his daddy, it just… disappeared. For a long time. But this week?” She squeezed your arm gently. “That boy has light in him again. And I can see it plain as day — you’re the reason.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out uneven. “Maybe it’s just being home.”

“No, darling.” Her voice was kind, but it left no room for doubt. “It’s you. He looks at you the way his daddy used to look at me. Like the sun came back up after the longest night.”

You didn’t know what to say.

You couldn’t find words. Not when guilt pressed heavy in your chest. Because it wasn’t real. None of it was real.

She studied your silence for a moment, then her hand softened into a gentle pat. “Just… promise me something, will you?”

Your throat tightened. “What’s that?”

“Don’t break his heart,” she whispered, almost pleading. “He gives it away too easily, even if he pretends otherwise. And you… well, you’re the first girl in a long time I’ve seen him let close.”

It felt like a knife twisting. You managed a nod, your smile too tight, too rehearsed. “I won’t.”

But the words burned as soon as they left your mouth.

Because you weren’t sure you could keep them.

-

The house was too loud.

Too warm. Too kind.

Jake’s mom had spent the entire evening practically glued to your side — refilling your glass, showing you old photos of Jake in Little League, asking questions about your job and your favorite foods and your family with so much genuine maternal interest that your skin itched from the weight of it.

She was just... sweet. Honest. She looked at you like she already knew you and loved you anyway.

You couldn’t take it.

The night air was cool and still, the kind of quiet that wrapped around your shoulders like a wool blanket. You wandered without really thinking, ending up near the stables, where the fence creaked in the breeze and the scent of hay clung to everything.

It was so different from anything you’d ever known.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and stared out into the dark pasture, the grass silvered under the moonlight, and let your thoughts get too loud.

You were lying to a woman who had done nothing but be kind to you.

You were pretending to love a man who was — infuriatingly — starting to feel less like a prop in this charade and more like a crack in the wall you’d spent years reinforcing.

And worst of all?

You liked this. All of it. The chaos. The sweetness. The quiet. The way Jake looked at you like he knew something you didn’t.

You didn’t belong in this life. But God, you wanted to taste it anyway.

“Thought I might find you out here,” came his voice, low and steady behind you.

You didn’t turn around. “I needed some air.”

Jake stepped closer, boots crunching the gravel, his silhouette tall against the barn lights. “You disappeared.”

You shrugged. “You were busy. Your mom’s got stories for days.”

Jake let a silence settle between you. Then:

“She really likes you, you know.”

You exhaled, something bitter catching in your throat. “That’s kind of the problem.”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

You finally turned, facing him, the porch light cutting a soft glow across his face. He looked concerned. Not annoyed. Just — confused. Like he didn’t get what the big deal was.

You hated that it made your chest ache.

“She’s great, Jake,” you said, voice tight. “Your mom is... everything a mother should be. And we’re just—” You waved a hand, heat blooming in your face. “We’re lying to her.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “It’s just for the week.”

“Yeah, and then what? We leave, and she keeps thinking you’re in love and that I’m her future daughter-in-law and—”

He cut in. “We agreed to this.”

“I know we did,” you snapped, voice cracking. “But I didn’t expect her to be so—so kind. So interested. And now it feels like I’m just spitting in her face every time she looks at me like I’m someone worth—”

You stopped yourself, but it was too late.

Jake was staring.

His voice softened. “Is this about your mom?”

You froze.

Jake took a step forward. “Back at the apartment... you said she wasn’t really affectionate. That she wasn’t—”

“I didn’t say anything,” you said quickly. “You assumed.”

Jake tilted his head. “I’ve met enough people to recognize when someone doesn’t know how to accept love.”

The words hit too close. Too sharp. You blinked hard.

“She would never—” Your voice shook. “My mom would never do any of this. She wouldn’t throw a cookout. Or hang up baby pictures. She didn’t even hug me growing up, Jake.”

You were unraveling now. Words slipping out faster than you could stop them.

“She told me crying was manipulative. She said affection made you weak. And your mom—she just...” You shook your head, throat burning. “She asks if I slept okay and makes breakfast and tells me she’s proud of me and—and it makes me want to scream because it’s not real. None of this is real.”

Jake was silent.

You looked up at him, heart racing. “And you just go along with it like it’s nothing. Like this doesn’t matter. Like we’re not just—lying to this woman who would probably adopt me if you asked.”

Jake’s gaze was unreadable.

You breathed hard, hands curling into fists at your sides.

“I didn’t sign up to feel guilty about this,” you whispered. "I think we should—"

And then, without warning—

Jake stepped forward, grabbed your face with both hands, and kissed you.

Hard.

Desperate.

It was not gentle. It was not polite. It was not fake.

You made a startled noise against his mouth, but he didn’t stop. One hand slid into your hair, the other stayed cradling your jaw, and he kissed you like it was the only way he could shut you up. Like if he didn’t, he’d explode.

And God help you — you kissed him back.

You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, let yourself melt against him like it was natural, like it was inevitable. The night air pressed cool against your skin, but Jake’s mouth was fire, and everything tilted sideways the longer it went on.

Finally, finally, he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, breath ragged.

“You talk too damn much,” he muttered.

You didn’t say anything.

You couldn’t.

Because something had just shifted — deep and final and terrifying.

And you weren’t sure pretending could save you anymore.

-

taglist; @primadonnasdream @lunatygerqueen @bellarkeselection @dizzybee03 @mrsevans90 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @jackiehollanderr @literal-tv-menace @khouse712 @heartz4chucky @iefitzgerald-blog @myownevils @kmc1989 @pullmecloseman @kvmitchell @read-just-cant-stop @hipsternerd9 @fantasyfootballchampion @whatislovevavy @britt217 @eloquentdreamer @lynnevanss

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Nine) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 13k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: the longest chapter yet!! i can't believe i ever finished this behemoth. i wrote most of this in a dazed frenzy which i think is exactly how i should have written it because that's exactly how they're feeling in the story. this one's juicyyyy >:))) i can't wait to hear what you think! and the next chapter is the one you've alllll been waiting for ;)

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re really starting to wish you’d packed for functionality and not attractiveness on this cruise. The bikini you’re sporting today had become irrevocably tangled in your beach bag, and now presents you with a challenge: untangle it here, in the grimy public restroom just off the beach, or snorkel in your lingerie.

“Are you alright in there?” Jake shouts through the door, and you envy the way he’d worn his swim trunks as shorts. This bathing suit is nice for catching eyes, but really wouldn’t offer you any support to wear as an outfit.

“My suit’s tangled,” You call back, the ocean air nipping at your chest and perking your nipples as you struggle with the ties. You quickly realize that you’re going to lose this fight, and eye your lacy lingerie where it hangs on the door. You could redress yourself, struggle through a push-up bra and a romper, give up the bathroom, and beg Jake for help. Or…

“Jake?” You shout, undoing the lock and quickly clasping your hands over your bare breasts, “Come in here?”

He does, and most definitely doesn’t expect you to be standing there nearly naked. Your bikini bottoms are on, but nothing else is, and he has violent deja vu to just yesterday when he’d had to either puzzle out your bikini’s straps or flash your tits to the world.

“It’s tangled,” Your eyes jerk towards the suit on the counter, and Jake is quick to shut himself into the bathroom with you, locking the two of you inside. It doesn’t feel predatory at all- it feels safe. He knows you’ve trusted him to see you like this, and he’ll make sure no one else does.

“I’ll get it,” He hums, tearing his eyes away from your frame as you stand there, clutching at your chest, “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d let me see you anywhere close to naked.”

“I needed help,” You admit reluctantly, but you notice the way he keeps his gaze strictly on the bathing suit, miles away from the way he’d have eyed you up mere days ago. There’s something about the expression you find in his eyes that makes you think. You watch him, and you see the way his eyelashes flutter slightly, his attention solely on the mess in his hands and not your naked flesh mere inches away from him. You’ve asked him for help and he’s giving it to you, even if there’s other things he could be doing. Other things that he would be doing, if he were his old self.

You’ve been really, truly struggling to maintain your conviction that nothing has changed within him. Repeating it over and over again has only gotten you a headache. It only makes you seem childish and stubborn. But now, in this light, you understand, and really believe this time, that you’ve been right all along. You’ve just been looking at it wrong. The Jake you know is the Jake he wants you to know, and this one is what he keeps locked away for when it matters most. But this is the real one, and this- you… matter to him. The most.

Maybe this is who he’s always been, and yesterday in the pool wasn’t an outlier, maybe he hadn’t been replaced by an imposter at all. Maybe this is just Jake. This is him- he’s sweet, determined, and caring, but only if he wants you to see him like that. Only if you won’t use it against him, and even if he’d started your feud all those years ago on the tarmac, you’d fired back at him, and he’d closed himself off for fear of being wounded. 

You realize all at once that you and Jake are the same. You’re both trying to win, you’re both trying to survive. You’re trying to stay wary about this, trying to keep your armor on but it’s damn near impossible now that Jake is letting you strip his down. He’s letting you peel back the layers of his own defenses, you’ve stripped him of his cocky persona and now you’ve got him behaving even if you’re near-naked. 

It’s now that you can really see him as a person, not the machine he pretends to be. He does everything in his power to take his own humanity away, and even if he’d proved himself caring once, long ago, he’d fallen right back into old habits. And you’d let him- you’d known somewhere in the back of your mind that he was capable of being a good man but you’d let him disguise himself again, and you’d let him goad you into taking more stabs at him. He’d drawn you back into your war, and you’d let him fight you because he’d let you fight him back. He does a good job at convincing people that nothing touches him, but standing here with him, seeing the humanity in the way he shifts on his feet, noticing his tongue peeking out from between his lips you remember that he pushes himself to appear so untouchable because he doesn’t trust anyone to see him otherwise. 

You understand that, and even if your fear manifests itself in different ways, you can’t deny that you and Jake are one and the same. You’re both flowers, tightly coiled centers surrounded by layers and layers of petals that you’re plucking off one by one. Each dig, each glance, each silence takes one away, he loves me, she loves me not, and you wonder who will peel away each petal first. And once you do, once someone reaches the vulnerable little bundle protected at the center, will you wilt? Or will you bloom again together?

“Jesus, could they make these things any more confusing?” Jake asks, breaking your epiphanic silence by unwittingly untangling the final straps, “How are you supposed to get this on?”

It’s said in his old voice, with his old cynicism, but you see him the way he really is. You see his frustration, you see his vulnerability, you see Jake.

“Wait-” You stop him as you see the top take shape, your fingers still pressed into your chest, “That’s how it goes! Leave it, you got it.”

“This?” Jake’s face scrunches into a grimace, looking at the fabric in his fingers, “This is how it goes?”

“Hold it like you’d put it on a hanger,” You instruct, your own hands occupied, “The straps are supposed to cross each other in the back, so just let them hang over one another like- that.”

The suit falls perfectly into place, and he quickly realizes you’ll have to let go of your breasts to slip it over your head.

“Okay. Uh- where do you want it?”

“If you let go it’ll get tangled again,” You frown, looking at his thick fingers holding up the suit, “Just- close your eyes?”

They flutter shut without any further prompting on your end. Jake’s fingers are still extended, your suit hanging off of them, and you wait a mere two seconds to make sure he doesn’t open his eyes again before releasing your grip. That’s all you need- you know he won’t look.

It’s cold, briefly, but to Jake’s credit, he doesn’t bat an eyelash while you’re changing. It’s a test, even if he doesn’t know it is, but he passes because you knew he’d pass from the second you’d offered it. He feels you pluck the suit out of his hands but he doesn’t budge, and when you’ve got the top situated correctly on your shoulders you heave a sigh of relief. He looks nice like this, not cocky, not brash, just nice, his brown lashes resting delicately over his cheeks and his mouth pinched slightly where he’s biting the inside of his cheek. You run your eyes over his tranquil face, his caramel-tanned skin and his square facial structure that looks sturdy and handsome. You study his nose, his eyebrows, his ears, all under the guise of adjusting your bathing suit. You study him, for clues, for answers, for red flags but you find nothing, only crow’s feet and laugh lines. He looks like a man you could very much fall in love with, and that realization makes you step back, something nervous and afraid simmering in your gut. If you keep thinking of Jake as a person instead of the dick you’ve been arguing with for years, you’re going to fall in love with him.

“Open.” You demand anxiously, and when his lashes part, his irises meet your eyes, not your chest.

“You really need to get some clothes that aren’t just dental floss tied together.” Jake informs you, and your trance shatters, prompting you to lunge forwards to shove at his gut. It’s familiar, but it’s not mean, it’s the push of friends teasing friends, not an attack launched on enemy forces. It’s something that draws upon your constant bantering but doesn’t sting like it, something old made new by the way you duck your chin to your chest to cover your grin. He covers himself between the legs on instinct, but because you’ve shoved Jake and not Hangman, for once you’ve chosen to attack his vulnerable belly instead of what comes beneath it. 

“Ah! I mean it,” He almost wheezes, his breath caught short in his chest from your brutality, “This is the second time I’ve had to untangle your outfits for you. Not to mention the way your bathing suit decided to float away yesterday because there’s only one string tying the thing together.”

“I thought I was gonna get fucked on this cruise,” You remind him, “I was supposed to look incredibly sexy.”

“Well, you do.” Jake admits, and that’s what it is- an admission. Not a tease, not a jab, just an observation. One that isn’t accompanied with a grating smirk but a softness in his eyes and a neutral expression. You wet your own lips cautiously, the change in his tone striking your chest like an axe and giving another hefty cleave to the walls surrounding that chasm in your chest, the one you’ve been ignoring since nearly kissing Jake last night. The space full of ‘what-ifs’ and romantic violin music that blinds you to the danger of letting Jake in- The danger of falling in love with him.

Everything, every difference you notice, every comment from Danica presses the wedge further and further into your psyche and you’re certain it’ll split soon if you’re not careful.

Will it be worth it to let Jake tear the two halves apart? Will you have to piece the splintered fragments back together later?

“You have to promise me you won’t go braindead like this in the water.” Jake frowns at your distant expression, your eyes lingering on one of his feet as you chew against the inside of your cheek, “It’s gonna be really hard for me to cover this whole fiasco up if you drown out here, and I’m the one investigated for it.”

Right, fiasco. That’s what this is, it’s one big mess with no way out. It’s almost-kisses, it’s dragging Jake away from a vendor’s booth where he’d been acting as your guard dog, it’s dreaming about a man with Jake’s face who was meant to be someone else, it’s knowing that you’re on the precipice of something you can’t crawl back out of if you fall. You shake off your cryptic thoughts and start towards the door of the bathroom, murmuring a near-silent apology to the person waiting for their turn just outside.

You don’t wait around to see if they send you a look of distaste for having been in there together.

You’d envisioned something a little more opulent for a snorkeling excursion, but what you’re led to is a short expanse of beach with a ‘no diving’ sign planted in the sand. You cast Jake a wary glance as he wades into the water, feet, ankles, and thighs quickly being submerged as he shuffles through the sand so as not to startle any possible sealife lingering in the shallows.

“Water’s nice,” He hums, and once he’s standing where the gentle waves lap across his broad chest he offers you a hand, “Come on in, darlin’, I’ll make sure you don’t step on anything.”

True to his word, your feet sink into sand, and you don’t feel any fins trapped beneath them.

“They probably stay away from the shore,” You muse, almost nervous as you wait to see something darting around in the crystal-clear water beneath you. You hike your snorkel mask onto your nose and Jake very kindly doesn’t mention how silly it must look, grappling with his own as he tries getting it to cover his nose without squishing it.

Logically, you’re sure a killer turtle isn’t going to spring from the depths of the sea and nibble at your achilles heel. But you’re expecting to see animals, and the stillness of the water beyond the gently lapping waves is unnerving. You realize with a start that you’re still clutching the hand Jake had helped you in with, and when you drop it the water rushes against your skin with a chill the rest of your body has already adapted to.

Your phones hang awkwardly against your chest, wrapped in a water-tight bag that the company had lent to you. You hope they work, because you’re intent on getting pictures of some of the sealife without ruining your phone.

“Let’s swim out that way,” Jake suggests, towards a deeper portion of the sea, opposite from the boat you’d sailed in on, “Maybe we’ll find something worth looking at.”

“Lead the way,” You sink lower into the water so that you’re up to your neck, fitting the mouthpiece in front of your teeth.

Tilting yourself forwards and planting your face in the water offers you a view like no other. Even if the waters are free from critters, the sand shimmers beneath the sunlight that filters through the waves, and the water is so delectably blue that it looks dyed that way. It’s all things tropical, and you find yourself staring wide-eyed at nothing but sand and buried shells.

You almost forget Jake is there too, but then one of his abnormally large feet drifts into your field of vision and you shove it away. He falters where he’d been trying to float on his belly, nearly dunking the end of his mouthpiece into the water and rendering it useless.

He’s wise enough not to start an all-out splash war in what’s meant to be a tranquil zone, but you’re sure he’ll chuck you into rowdier waters later.

For now, he drifts to the left, and lets you gain speed on him, your head now aligned with his own.

Your first animal sighting comes in the form of a tiny fish- you hadn’t read through the brochure on the local wildlife, but you’d say it’s about the size of a minnow. It darts beneath you, shadowed by your body until it swims beneath Jake instead. He points at it, like perhaps you’ve missed the only moving thing you’ve seen so far besides him, and turning your face to look at him gets you a glimpse of his grin around the mouthpiece.

You find out quickly that the little fish travel in schools, because another one flits by, then another, and soon the ocean floor is nearly obscured as what you’re certain is the entire population of that fish in the sea blanket the sand.

This, you’ll test out your waterproof phone pouch for. You’re able to pull up your camera with only minor difficulties, the thick-walled plastic pouch keeping your phone dry even if you can touch the screen through it. You snap at least a dozen photos of the tiny fish, even getting a shot of one that grows curious and darts upwards to see what your phone is. You’re sure all you’d managed to capture is his eye, but it makes you laugh and you wonder if it’s an odd sound above water where you’re sure it’s coming from your snorkel’s mouthpiece.

Jake hears it, though you’re sure it’s muffled for him, and he takes your phone where it’s hanging around your neck, angling it towards you as the small fish investigates your hand and fingers. You draw it up towards your face, the glee on your face restrained only by the fit of the mouthpiece in front of your teeth. You let the little fish flit between your fingers and brush the end of his tailfin against your palm once, then watch as he darts away to rejoin his friends.

Your grin must be infectious, because there’s a matching one on Jake’s face as he films you. You’re not sure whether he’s been taking pictures or videos, but you’re careful not to get his face in frame as you take your phone back.

The more you drift away from the dock, the more sea life you encounter. It’s admittedly funny to watch Jake nearly scream when a turtle drifts beneath you out of nowhere, but you manage to get a shot of it that isn’t blurry from your shoulders shaking.

You also manage to get a shot of the bird that Jake flips you beneath the water as a direct response to your laughter, and you decide to keep it even if it’s of him. His face isn’t really in it, and it’s funny, and it’s something you can save as your own personal memento of the trip even if you don’t show it off to anyone. You let your phone drift back down towards your chest on the lanyard, the camera still open for easy access.

This makes it all-too-easy to snap a picture of an angelfish that glides through the water, and you point ecstatically at it while Jake slows himself before he startles the poor creature. You watch as it flits through the water, inspecting the terrain this way and that, failing to realize or care that there’s two gargantuan people floating above it. It drapes itself in your shadows, and you must take at least a million photos of it before it eventually darts away.

You brace a foot on the sand after it's out of sight, finally coming up for air that isn’t through a plastic tube.

You spit the mouthpiece out and breathe like you’ve been deprived of it, but your grin gives away that you’re merely excited.

“That was so cool!” You gush, and Jake smears his wet hair up and off of his forehead, similarly out of breath.

“That was a pretty one.” He agrees, his voice slightly nasally from the way the snorkel mask fits him, “‘Really thought that turtle was gonna kill us, or something.”

“Turtles aren’t murderous,” You scoff, bracing your hands on your hips in the shallow water, barely fifty feet from the shore, “I got a few good pictures of him, but I think you were in some of them.”

“I should be taking some too,” He glances down at his own phone hanging from his neck, “But you beat me to the good ones every time.”

“I can send you mine,” You offer, “It’s not like I don’t have your number.”

“You act like you don’t. You barely ever use it,” Jake grumbles, “Unless you forgot something in my car.”

“I don’t always have much to say to you.” You blurt without thinking, and the way it tangibly brings down the mood surprises you- it’s a stark difference, something that makes Jake’s shoulders deflate slightly as he stands dripping water from his fingertips.

“-that isn’t- y’know, mean.” You finish, though it doesn’t heal the wounds you’ve reopened. The ones that are just starting to heal, the ones that had barely clotted and now bleed again. 

It does, though, make Jake’s lips twist thoughtfully, one corner lifting as he bites the other, “Right. Well, now you have turtle pictures.” He shifts his feet in the sand, glancing sharply towards his ankle when a bold fish brushes against it, “Back in?”

“Back in,” You agree, easing onto your belly in the water so as not to startle any timid critters.

You spot fish of all sizes, shapes, and colors, some pretty and some that you don’t take photos of. You’d only booked an hour of snorkeling but you’re fairly certain you’re over that limit now, and you’re half expecting to be wrenched out of the water by your mouthpieces. You are grabbed by the hand, but after you startle you realize it’s only Jake. You turn away from the seashells you’re peering at, beautiful dusty pinks and peaches half-obscured by the sand, and glance at where he’s pointing.

It’s a stingray.

Jake drags you closer by your hand, keeping away from the business end of the animal while admiring its fluid movements. Every twitch of its body is graceful, and you try to emulate it as you stay perfectly still, your hand interlocked with Jake’s.

The stingray isn’t in a hurry to leave. It’s drifting along the seafloor, but so slowly that you and Jake manage to follow it without creating ripples that chase it off. You manage to gain the lead over Jake, and you carefully reach for your phone to take photos of the ray before it decides it has better things to do.

You don’t realize you’ve done it, but you’re using your free hand to hold your phone, and your opposite stays snugly nestled against Jake’s own. He notices, though, and that’s what he takes a photo of. He hasn’t felt the need to capture the sea life swimming around you, not when you’ll send him your own photos. He’ll let you be the trip’s photographer, but this- this he has to have. The way your hair drifts through the water, each strand separated and swaying with the gently lapping waves. You’d had it in a ponytail earlier but you’d wrenched it out the second the water had weighed it down, and now the rubber band rests on your wrist. The way your interest and curiosity shines through the clunky snorkel mask, your eyes wide and inquisitive, your teeth pinching against the mouthpiece in a grin. The way you’re floating there, suspended in time, clutching his hand- that’s the photo he deems worthy of capturing.

You don’t notice that he’s snapped a picture of you, which Jake thinks is best, for now. You’re coming around- he knows you are, he knows it simply in the way you’re still holding his hand, your fingers curled around the back of his own. Three days ago you’d have drowned rather than take his hand, and now you’re floating together, fingers interlocked.

But still, it might be better for now if you don’t know you’re the only thing Jake’s cared enough to photograph on this entire trip.

You make the mistake of resurfacing after the ray swims into deeper waters, and you’re waved back to shore by the employees who had fitted you with your masks. Perhaps you’d have been able to evade suspicion for longer, and gotten a few more free minutes of snorkeling, but you give in, and you and Jake traipse slowly through the sludgy sand back to dry land.

Your belongings had stayed safe and dry in lockers you’d rented from the facility, but you realize as you’re tucked away in the bathroom again that you hadn’t accounted for what you’d do with your hair. The ponytail was supposed to be your failsafe, but your hairbrush is back on the ship, and now that it’s been flowing freely through the water you know it’ll be impossible to wrangle your hair into something that looks nice without a brush. It’s grown longer in recent months because you’ve been too lazy to cut it, and admittedly it does make the regulation bun easier now that you’ve got more to work with. But more length means more hassle now that it’s wet and stringy, perpetually wetting the back of your neck and seeping through your shirt.

You’d swapped out your bathing suit for your lingerie, letting the wet fabric sit in the bottom of your beach bag. You resolve to just let your hair air-dry, but you attempt to detangle it with your fingers so that it doesn’t mat. It’s what Jake catches you doing when he finds you outside the men’s bathroom waiting for him, and he winces in time with you as you hit a particularly tight knot in one of the strands.

“You need a hairbrush?” He asks, and you know he doesn’t have one, so you shake your head.

“I’ve got it.” You grumble, “I forgot to pack one.”

You manage to separate the knot, but it has a twin on the opposite side of your head. You’ve no sooner freed one strand than caught another, and you groan as your arms begin to ache from holding them to your head for so long.

“Easy, Hercules,” Jake grabs your hands, tugging them out of your hair, “You tryin’ to rip it out?”

“Jake, I know how to brush my own hair.” You stare exasperatedly at him from beneath your lashes, pulling your hands from his grip, “Just- grab my hairtie from my bag?”

You let him wrestle one of the straps down your arm, and he fishes around inside for the ponytail. Once he’s grabbed it you try to take it from him, but he rears backwards, holding it over his head.

“No, I want to do it.”

“Jake,” You huff, but he won’t even let you finish.

“No. You’re being too rough with it.” He insists, pointing to a bench beside a cluster of palm trees, “Sit down there, and let me braid your hair.”

“Braid? You know how to braid?” You ask, and he nods firmly.

“Remember, I got about a thousand tiny little nieces,” Jake explains, “The longest hair you’ve ever seen. In the summers it gets real hard to handle, so they always wanted me to braid it for ‘em before they went swimming or riding horses.”

“That’s- cute.” You have to admit, and you realize you’ve been disarmed, drifting over towards the bench that Jake directed you towards, “Fine. Just- be quick, please? I don’t want to waste our time here.”

Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

“I’ll be fast.” He promises, and his fingers get to work right away on your tangled tresses.

His hands are exceptionally gentle. And skilled, too, as he undoes knots in your hair with precise tugs that don’t rip any strands out of your scalp. You’re surprised, really, that you’d let him have free reign of your head because you’d never trust him not to break out a pair of scissors and butcher your hairdo. But that’s because three days ago he was your enemy, and now you’re realizing he’s just as vulnerable as you are. That was old Jake, and new Jake separates your hair into three sections and gets to plaiting before you even realize he’s managed to undo the tangles.

“M'kay,” He pinches the bottom of the braid, tucking a strand tighter behind your ear, “Give me back the ponytail.”

You offer your wrist without thinking, and your other hand hastily reaches to meet it mid-air, but Jake’s gets there first. You feel his rough-tipped fingers scrape delicately at your skin, pinpricks of contact that make your free hand freeze where it hovers uselessly. It’s like each spot he touches fashions a pressure point, and all five combine to short-circuit your brain.

It’s why you’re silent as Jake slips the rubber band off of your wrist, circles it four times around the end of your braid, and then places- not drops, places it against your back.

With care. With intention. With thought.

“There,” He hums, and you’re discovering now that there’s a third type of silence you find yourself caught in with Jake. First had been tense- the prayer that his grating voice wouldn’t be heard, the hope that you could flee before he figured out his next jab. Then there was comfortable, when you’d finally calmed down enough to remember that you’d make it out alive. But now you’re not so sure about that for entirely different reasons- you’d nearly kissed- on purpose ! - and Danica seems to be haunting your every waking moment with how frequently you think about her convictions.

Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

You’re not sure what to call this kind. Awkward, maybe, but the tense ones had been awkward, too. These are softer, not comfortable, but something… hopeful. Tentatively so, like keeping an ear out for the mailman but waiting until he’s gone to venture outside. You’re nervous, intensely so. Your stomach pulses with energy like it’s being lit up, and your limbs feel like they’re submerged in thick, sticky molasses when you try to speak or move forwards from the silence. But you’re excited, too, maybe just a little bit, even if you’re never going to tell Jake. 

You’re excited- maybe, because you’d thought changing meant you and Jake up until now. You thought change meant Jake was going to transform into a gentleman, and you were going to have to become his prize. But what’s changing is your bad habits, the way you both shield yourselves from being known. Now it clicks: you’re not becoming new people, you’re finally letting the people you really are see the light of day. That makes you more confident, in both yourself and Jake, because you hadn’t wanted to change to love him, and you hadn’t wanted him to change to love you. But that’s not what has to happen- you’re not losing the parts of yourselves that you like, you’re losing the ones that keep those hidden away, the walls you throw up to hide the glittering city behind them. It’s your behavior that’s changing, not your essence, and maybe if you’re having trouble drifting with this tide, Jake will take your hand and pull you along with him to look at wayward stingrays.

“Braided your hair so good I put you to sleep,” Jake teases, but it’s not a malicious tone he uses. You’re far too accustomed to that one, you’d know it from a mile away. No, this one’s sweeter, almost endeared- and that’s nudging you further and further towards that leap of faith you’ve finally come to terms with but aren’t quite ready to take yet, so you stand and nearly tip forwards in your hurry.

“Let’s go-” You urge, heading down the street without looking back at him, “Let’s- we can find a snack or I can finally get a hat or we can get-”

“Massages.” Jake interrupts, his voice stopped dead a few feet back, “We can get massages.”

You turn on your heel, finding yourself faced off with him in front of an open massage parlor. Your stances read like a wild west shootout, and you wonder what’s engraved on the pistols Jake’s come holstered with.

Wit and deviancy, of course, as he turns towards the signage outside, the grin that blooms on his face something akin to the enemy of whoville.

Mud Spa 20 Minutes - $25

Massage 1 Hour - $75

Massage + Mud Spa - $90

Couple’s Massage + Mud Spa - $150

He strides in before you can stop him, and you’ve barely stepped through the doors before he’s slapping his card onto the reception desk, “One couple’s massage and mud spa, please. How long do we get?”

“Twenty minutes in the spa,” The woman at the counter is already swiping his card, giving you no time to protest, “And couples get an extra thirty minutes of massage treatments.”

Jake reholsters his smoking guns with a devilish grin towards you.

You’d been so focused on Jake and his antics that you’d missed the employees behind you, standing on either side of the entryway and moving to action the second your payment is processed. They each grab bathrobes and come up behind you, one heading towards Jake and the other slinging the robe around your shoulders.

“Go change,” They point you both towards a room with nothing but the number three on it, and you wonder if there are two other actual couples in here that you’ll have to put up with. You’ll have a hard enough time wrangling Jake in here, and you’re not even together. You can’t imagine staying civil with someone you really wanted to go wild with.

“Speedy service,” Jake notes as the door clicks shut behind you, leaving you stranded in a large space, decorated as opulently as possible while leaving the open floor space occupied only by two massage chairs.

There’s dried flowers on the walls, numerous babbling fountains lining the walls and brown wooden accents that make the space feel relaxing like a deep breath. It’s calming to be there, as is the floral scent that floats through the air, taking up so much of your airways that there’s little room for pure oxygen. 

Calming, of course, until you remember you’re meant to be stripping.

To Jake’s credit, he hadn’t looked earlier. But you’d asked him not to, and now he’s shimmying out of his wet swim trunks, the soaked fabric clinging to his skin. You don’t get to finish your thought because he perks up, ears nearly straightening like a dog’s, as he cranes his neck to look at you despite being bent in half.

“Sorry, I forgot about our agreement earlier.”

At first, you think he’s going to turn around, and let you have your peace. But perhaps New Jake isn’t fully formed yet, because he blinks at you, faux-innocent, “Do you want to see my penis?”

There’s a million things you want to say to him. And you’re formulating all of them, your hands fumbling with the straps of your romper, trying to separate them from your bra. But evidently your brain is taking too long, because your mouth decides it’s got this one, and your own traitorous voice comes from your own traitorous lips, “Do you want to see my tits?”

Out of the million things you wanted to say to him, that wasn’t even one of them. That wasn’t anywhere near one of them, and hearing it come from your mouth makes your spine straighten like a rigid lightning bolt had pricked at each disc. But you think about taking it back, about griping at him for being so pushy and you realize that perhaps you’re starting to… enjoy this. Maybe you’re offering now because he’d listened earlier when you’d told him to shut his eyes. You’re not giving in, you’re not letting him have you, you’re not tarnishing your reputation but since you’ve both been fighting to kill for your entire lives, maybe you’re going to torment him the same way he keeps trying to torment you. And maybe it’s not torment at all, maybe this is the way Jake is, and this is how you meet him in the middle. You’re giving him a chance, being open to changing your own behavior if he’s going to break his back trying to fit himself against your edge.

If he’s going to play your game, you’ll play his.

His brows raise, intrigued, “Not two hours ago I closed my eyes so you could take ‘em out.”

“And that was kind of you.” You hum, slipping the straps of your romper off of your shoulders, “And I like kind, Jake. Kind is why Daniel got to kiss me.”

His eyes flash with something dangerous, a glint you assume you’d see in a bull staring down a red cape. He finishes stuffing his swim trunks down his thighs, standing up straight and unabashedly showing off his cock that you’re still too proud to openly stare at, “Yeah? That’s how he won you over?”

“Yeah.” You nod, teasing him with merely the tips of each bra cup as you shimmy out of your romper, “Well- that and the beard. You notice it’s lighter around the mouth?”

Jake rolls his eyes, cocking his weight onto one hip. You don’t dare look, but you know it makes his cock swing slightly where it’s hanging between his legs.

“Yeah, I saw that.” Jake notes, “I eat too, y’know.”

Daniel, at this point, feels like a distant memory. But he’s fresh enough in Jake’s mind to do some damage, and you can tell his name riled Jake up like a coiled spring.

You wind it tighter, finally shucking your romper off of your torso and letting it fall in a heap at your feet.

Apparently, Jake thinks you’re as stunning in your lingerie as you’d thought just this morning. His eyes flicker downwards, but before they can go too far they glance up at your face, his jaw tightening.

“You really want this?” He asks, something sobering in his tone despite the hormones you’d both ridden up to this moment.

“No touching,” You scoff, “Just- you can look. This time, you can look. Because you were nice enough not to last time. Because you’re nice, Jake.”

That’s all you want, really. All you want is to know you’ll be safe with Jake. You know that on a basic level, you wouldn’t be injured or belittled around him. For all he belittles you himself, if anyone else tried, he’d end it quicker than it could begin. And there was the night you were blackout drunk- you knew you’d be safe then. He wouldn’t have taken advantage of you, and he never will. You’ve known for a while that somewhere, on some deep, basic level, Jake is a good man. But now that he’s acting the part, you can make sure he stays that way.

As soon as you let him, his eyes drop. He rakes them down your body, and you watch them pick up every detail on your lacy underthings. They flicker like flames, licking up the curves and contours of your near-naked frame until he remembers he doesn’t have anything on himself.

“Get after it,” He grunts, his voice an octave huskier than the last time he’d spoken, “Take your own look.”

It’s- big.

It’s really, truly big, which you won’t tell him, because it might flip whatever switch had been disabled somewhere along your voyage and bring back egomaniac Jake. He’s tan all over, but there’s a slightly paler portion where a different pair of shorts have cut his bare skin from the golden-brown patches. You note that the tan lines look a lot like briefs, and you wonder if Jake lays out in the sun in his tighty-whities. Before you can laugh at the image your eyes catch back on his cock, hanging thick and heavy between his legs. He’s got hair above it, a trimmed patch that isn’t unruly but isn’t clean either. It’s somewhere in between, something musky you can bury your nose in- you won’t be doing that, but hypothetically, though, you could. This is just looking, this is just gratuitous staring, but seeing the length, the thickness and the tapered, rounded head and imagining what it might do to you- it brings heat to your core that you squirm at, shifting your weight to just one leg.

“You gonna take ‘em off, darlin’?” He asks, nodding at your lingerie. You see where his eyes are pointed, straight between your legs where the pad of your underwear gets swallowed by the pillowy flesh of your thighs.

“No,” You smirk, “Not for you.”

“What- why the hell am I naked?” He asks, reaching for the robe. You try to ignore the way his cock swings, thick and hefty.

“You just stripped,” You shrug, fastening your robe around your lingerie, “I didn’t ask to see your penis, if you recall.”

“I was promised tits,” He counters, eyes rolling skywards, “Does your word mean nothing?”

Actually, he’s right. You had offered, even if the words that had come from your mouth were from some other part of you you’d never set free before. So you sigh, unfastening the robe’s tie just as soon as you’ve cinched it, “Fine, I’ll take it off.”

“Really?” Jake asks, too enthusiastic, his head snapping in your direction, but he calms himself, “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“I know.” You nod, reaching behind your back for the clip of your bra, “That’s why I’m going to.”

The pressure around your chest relaxes, and the fabric falls to your feet. You have to dip your arms forwards, but the movement doesn’t cheapen the experience for Jake, not with the way his eyes dart towards your now-bare chest, widening and dancing with the flames you’d seen earlier. 

It’s a maddening experience, teasing someone. 

Especially teasing someone like Jake, someone who makes himself seem untouchable, someone who’s teased you for your entire career. Here, now, as your lacy bra hits the floor, he’s completely at your mercy.

He stares blatantly at the swell of your breasts, and doesn’t seem to mind at all that they’re not pushed together anymore. They sit lower on your torso now without the bra holding them together and boosting them up but he seems just as entranced as when he’d seen them pinched together beneath your chin. He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clears saliva that had pooled beneath his tongue. You watch him watch you, and he inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw squared and shifting.

He lets out a low whistle, taking a half-step forwards that makes you tense where you stand. He notices, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture, “I know, I know. No touching. Are you gonna take the bottoms off too, darlin’?”

“I only said tits,” You remind him, a note of devilish glee in your voice, “Turn around, Hangman.”

He does, and you allow yourself one moment of ogling his ass before you drop your panties and fit yourself into your robe. He’s- firm, the skin a shade lighter than his back and thighs, and you wonder if he’s always been this nice to look at from behind, or if you’ve just never noticed through his uniform.

When you’re robed, you call him to turn again, and he takes his sweet time putting his robe on, leaving his dick on display for as long as possible. Maybe you look, and maybe he notices. Maybe.

You make good time, because as soon as he’s cinching his robe shut the attendants walk back in. They knock, but don’t wait long before barging inside the room, and you’re grateful you’d managed to tuck your clothes into a neat pile instead of leaving them strewn about the floor.

“We’ll be showing you to our mud spa first,” The attendant nearest you explains, “It’ll loosen and relax your muscles for the massage later. We’ll go down the hall, come with me.”

You follow single-file after the woman, glancing around at the neatly-decorated massage parlor. It’s elegant and cozy all at once, and the warmly-lit room they lead you into hosts a large tub of mud that you presume you’ll be stripping before entering.

The attendants confirm your hypothesis, “Please derobe, and you’ll soak in the mud for about twenty minutes. After you’re out, you’ll shower over there,” She points to a row of shower stalls, “And we’ll head back over for your massages.”

“Thank you,” You hum gratefully, and Jake echoes your sentiment, eyeing the mud bath with wary intrigue.

“First mud bath?” You ask, untying the robe easier this time, more confidently. It catches Jake’s eye, and he reaches for his own tie.

“First spa-grade one. I used to get covered in mud all the time as a kid, but I bet it didn’t have the same healing properties.”

You laugh at the image of little Jake coming inside from a long day of play, covered in mud with bugs in his pockets and hair. It’s such a distracting thought that you don’t realize you’ve now exposed your bare lower half to Jake, but when you cast a semi-panicked glance his way, his eyes are drawn towards the floor.

He knows, and he’s not looking.

The next breath of air that you take seems to fill your lungs deeper, fuller.

Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

The mud is warm, almost hot when you dip your toes in, but lowering yourself carefully into the bath does nothing but heat you to your core. It doesn’t burn, and Jake watches carefully, respectfully as you sink into the thick, earthy substance.

“Is there a step?” He asks, and you point him towards it, watching as he submerges himself across from you. You settle on the shelf that runs the perimeter of the spa, the back of your neck hitting the edge and prompting your head to tilt backwards against the floor.

“I think there’s mud in my asscrack.”

Your lips part in a toothy grin before you can stop them, but your eyes stay firmly shut, bliss curling peacefully in your belly like a cat tucking in for a nap. You breathe a sigh, long and deep as Jake settles in opposite you.

“Is it supposed to go on my face?”

Your eyes drift open, and you peer at Jake, close to irritated, “Remember the hot tub yesterday? Quiet zone.”

“Right,” He scoffs, his foot brushing against yours beneath the mud’s surface, leg following as he crosses his feet beside your lap. You wonder if you’d be able to stretch your legs across the entire length of the hot tub yourself, or if Jake’s legs are just impossibly long.

You let him melt, you let his muscles loosen and slump into the wall of the tub for almost a full minute before you sneak up before him and smear a muddy hand over his cheek.

“It can go on your face,” You grin, as his eyes snap open and he jolts forwards in his spot. His incredulous laugh is breathy and the huff hits your face, and it’s only then when you realize you’ve spread your legs to fit his between them, and you’re standing naked before Jake, inches away from his face.

“Alright, missy.” He gripes, a splotch of mud sticking to his cheek, “Where should I put yours, huh? Up your nose? In your ear?”

“Don’t!” You plead, but it’s too late, and he’s already latched his hands around your wrists like cuffs. He bends you to his will, ignoring your shrieked laughter and tucking you sideways into his lap with thick layers of sticky mud between your bare skin and his. He keeps you pointedly away from his groin, but you can feel both his torso and his thighs touching your hips as he lets you float bridal style in his arms.

It pushes your chest out of the water, and you’re nervous for a moment before you remember there’s a sludgy layer of mud covering any sensitive material. Besides- you suppose it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, something you wouldn’t have been able to say before merely an hour ago.

“You’re a menace.” He decides, his eyes on your own, mud caked up to his neck, nearly painting his chin, “I finally shut up and let you have some peace and quiet, and this is what you do to me?”

“That’s why I did it,” You nod, your head nearly submerged in the mud with the way he’s holding you sideways against him, his muddy hands against your bare skin, “You did what I asked, so I let you have it.”

“I don’t understand you,” He chuckles, but the sincere, slightly dim look in his eyes speaks volumes to you.

“I understand you, I think.” You admit, your voice lowering as he keeps you suspended just above the mud’s surface. You’re turned sideways to face him, and your sobering tone reminds him that he’s still got you held captive in his grip. He rights you, his movements slow and his eyes piercing as he stares at your own. You’re set on your feet, now standing between his spread legs, staring down at him with your muddy chest exposed. The substance begins air-drying on your skin almost instantly, covering you even if Jake’s attention is still trained on your face.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, and the question makes your heart skip a beat. When it resumes it’s pumping wildly, fast and furious and flighty.

“I mean,” You start, blinking rapidly to shield your eyes from his own, though you don’t cast them elsewhere, “I- I mean that,” You think, long and hard about the past three days, about the way Jake had drifted to your side while Daniel had stormed ahead, the way he’d carried you home on the first night and hadn’t left you alone to prowl for a quick fuck around the ship afterwards, the way he’s begun looking at you like you mean something more to him than just a number of training exercises to best.

And you know the way you’re looking at him is shifting, too. You’re seeing him as a person, you’re seeing his humanity, you’re seeing the man he is beneath his cocky, untouchable armor. You’re both laid bare now, not just physically, and there’s only one layer of mud left to scrape away until you see each other in your rawest forms.

Your lips try forming words, whichever ones would wash clean your souls and send the last, viscous layer of protection flowing down the drain.

But it’s too much, the dry mud chafes against your skin as you heave in a breath, and it rattles in your chest as you shut your mouth.

“I don’t know.” You conclude, attempting to back away with hasty, rushed steps that will put you as far away from Jake as possible. But he doesn’t let you, and his hands close again around your wrists, muscling them to your sides and holding you in place.

“Jake-”

“No, don’t- don’t do that. Don’t say things like that and try to walk away.” He pleads, “We’re stuck in this hot tub for fifteen more minutes, say what you wanna say.”

“I don’t wanna say anything,” You breathe, nearly crumpling under his gaze as you try squirming out of his grip, “Please? I shouldn’t have started the thought, I- I can’t finish it. Not yet.”

“When?” He asks, his eyes tired. You wonder how he can look like that when he’s only been trying for three days, when he’s spent every day up until this cruise needling his way under your skin. You wonder how he can act like this is taxing to him, like you’re exhausting him by being cautious. Before you can grow angry about it he strokes his muddy thumbs over your wrists, his grip tight but not bruising.

“I don’t know.” You admit, and he sighs through his nose as his shoulders slump.

“Fine. Alright.” He makes a good effort of keeping his voice void of any ire, but you wonder if he’s already grown tired of this back-and-forth. 

You’re trapped in a whirlwind. You’re spinning this way and that, convinced one moment that he’s a playboy and the next that he’s your boy. You wonder if you’ll ever find steady ground, if your world will ever stop shifting, or if you’ll give in and he’ll continue to bounce back and forth between new and old Jake. That’s been your fear from the start, and when he releases your wrists you back up until your calves hit the shelf of the tub and you fall to your ass on the seat.

“Sorry.” He mumbles over the gentle humming of the spa’s motors, churning the mud constantly so it doesn’t harden, “You said no touching.”

It’s not inflammatory, it’s not meant to poke or to prod, and you let him lead you down a safer path.

“I smeared mud on your face first,” You shrug, your eyes roving over the bubbling muck beneath you instead of across his mud-streaked face, “No harm done.”

“Good.” He hums, perhaps more meaningfully than he’d meant to. But the outer side of his foot finds your own beneath the surface of the mud, and he leans his head back against the side of the tub before closing his eyes, letting his skin rest against yours.

It’s silent for the rest of your time in the spa. Jake keeps his eyes closed, but every time you do you see his face, inches away from yours, and muted music from the lounge you’d been outside of the night before begins playing in your mind. The memory taunts you, and opening your eyes only grants you a real view of Jake’s face. It’s set in a serene mask, but you can tell he’s tense beneath it. Now that you’ve taken one facade off of Jake you seem to be an expert at them, and you can see a protruding lump in his jaw that means his teeth are clenched. You feel guilty for ruining his relaxation, and you grab your phone from the pocket of your robe to distract yourself.

You ignore Natasha’s earlier messages, prying questions you can’t answer without giving something away. Instead, you swipe your finger over the screen, selecting all of your snorkeling photos and sending the batch to her. It’s something to do with your hands, and you stare at the cover photo while the message processes.

Your restless fingers barely have to wait a minute after sending the photos to receive a response from her. Your thumbs twitch against the screen, ready to type, but her message reads ‘I’m not looking at the damn fish, whose thigh is that?’

You realize all too late that you’ve sent her photos with Jake in them. Not his face, not his swim trunks that she’d recognize from your many team beach days, but his foot, his arm, his leg, his back, his fingers reaching for yours. Your stomach threatens to liquify and drip into your feet but you steel yourself, typing back, ‘That’s my roommate.’

‘He looks like he goes to the gym.’

You don’t have the guts to tell her he’s gone to the gym with her before.

‘He’s pretty muscular, yeah.’

‘And you HAVEN’T had sex yet?’

‘Remember? Complicated.’

‘Girl, if you don’t hit it…’

That’s the last message you dare to read. You’re sure she’s got a thousand colorful threats for you, but you shut your phone off when you hear the door to the spa open again.

“How was the mud bath?” The attendant asks, and Jake’s eyes open, avoiding your figure.

“It’s great.” He nods at the woman, “Are we being evicted?”

“Shower off in the corner,” She chuckles warmly, “Then meet me outside!”

You and Jake traipse towards the showers leaving muddy footprints in your wake. It’s silent as you each approach a different faucet, but when Jake’s turns on and you can’t get your muddy fingers to grip the handle of yours, he steps out of the warm stream of water he’s stationed himself beneath.

“Here. Take mine,” He offers, “I’ll get this one.”

“Thank you,” You hum quietly, letting him nudge you out of the way. You shuffle over to the already-running showerhead, taking a clean washcloth and soaking it in water and the soap they’ve set out for you. You get to scrubbing, chancing a glance at where Jake’s showering beside you and getting another view of his ass. This time it makes you blush- it’s a stolen thing, something he hadn’t offered you, and you turn to face the opposite wall while thinking about the way stripping for him had made you feel.

Powerful, for sure. Like for once, you were in control, you were leading, you were holding the reins. And he’d stayed respectful, never once trying to touch you. 

At least, until you’d incited a wrestling match in the spa and been held captive against his chest. And then you’d opened your mouth, and promptly closed it before you could let yourself say too much, and Jake had reacted like ‘too much’ was all he’d ever wanted you to say. Even though he’s only started acting that way for a couple of days. Even though this is all the most unprecedented, complicated situation you’ve ever been in, and it makes you want to tear your hair out and scream, letting it echo along the tiles.

“Are you mad at me?” Jake’s voice comes from over your shoulder, and you turn like it might help you hear the words better, even if they’ve already evaporated with the steam rising from the tiles.

“What?”

“You heard me. Are you mad at me?” Jake asks again, throwing a glance over his shoulder where he’s still turned away from you. When he notices that you’re facing him he pivots, standing unabashedly naked before you the way you do before him.

“I’m not mad.” You promise, “I’m- confused. And afraid, a little. No- a lot.”

“Why are you afraid of me?” He asks, his eyes vulnerable and sweet. Like he’s hurt by it, like he really doesn’t know.

“I’m not afraid of you,” You sigh, running a hand over your belly to wash away the mud still sticking to it, “It’s- not like that. I’m afraid of… everything changing. Because I can’t control how it’s going to end, and I don’t like that.”

“How do you think it’s gonna end? Who says it has to end at all?” Jake’s eyes narrow towards you, and you rear backwards slightly, a scoff escaping your mouth.

“Don’t talk like you’re gonna marry me.” Your voice hardens slightly, sharpened to a steel edge, “This is a sex cruise, and you’re trying to get into my pants.”

“I’ve already done that,” Jake reaches for the towels set beside the showers, rolling one up and whipping it towards your thighs, “You gave me a whole strip tease just a few minutes ago.”

“But no touching,” You remind him, falling back into old habits as your voice takes on a teasing lilt, “You’re not there yet, Hangman.”

“Yet,” He takes your bait, his grin sharpening wolfishly. It feels good to banter, even if you’re both trying to be someone kinder, someone less jagged and sharp, “Does that mean I’ve really got a chance? It’ll happen later?”

“If you’re lucky,” You huff, “And I mean- really lucky.”

“I like those odds,” He follows you in shutting off his shower, and you walk side-by-side with him towards the robes you’d left abandoned by the spa. It’s strange, parading around a spa with Hangman, completely naked, but he seems to know just what to say, just what to do to keep you from getting lost in your head, even if it means taking a few steps backwards and teasing you again. 

But now you’ve discovered you can tease him, too, and you pull your robe on slowly, cinching it around your waist and covering up the last bit of bare skin his eyes had been glued to earlier.

He doesn’t say anything about it, but his footsteps behind you are heavy when the attendant leads you back towards the massage tables, and he takes his cues from you, reaching around your waist to untie your robe for you before you can do it yourself.

You turn your head to the side, nearly running into his own that’s slotted over your shoulder. He meets your gaze head-on, and you feel tension growing like thick vines over you and him as you stand together, nearly flush. He drags the robe off of your shoulders, but walks away with it instead of ogling what’s beneath. You rush for the massage table, letting the attendant fit your bare body into its contours with a knowing smile.

“Lots of couples have a hard time keeping their hands off of each other,” She murmurs conspiratorially into your ear, “If you don’t mind me saying this, you’re a lucky woman, and he’s a lucky man.”

Jake’s grin as he settles down on the massage table, face turned towards your own, tells you that he’s betting on that luck.

You have a million things to think about while your eyes slip shut on the massage chair, but the second your attendant digs her hands into your stiff back they all float away into static. Your brain goes numb, and you let out a startled gasp at the shooting pain that travels up your spine. It’s quickly replaced by bliss as your muscles loosen where they’d been tensed, but it’s going to take her a minute to warm you up.

“Just relax,” She hums, and Jake’s masseuse gets to work on his back, spreading lotion over his palms before digging into the aviator’s own stiff back, “We’ll have you turn over later, but for now, just close your eyes and let all of your tension go.”

Tension. You wonder if she’d seen what was really going on, that your ‘tension’ isn’t born of a couple forbidden to touch each other for a few measly minutes, but of two springs coiled so tight they’ll snap if they’re not released soon. You let out a shaky moan as the masseuse wrestles out a particularly large knot in your lower back, and Jake clears his throat from across the room.

You refuse to be embarrassed about enjoying yourself. You’ve been so tense lately- sure, because of work, but just the past three days alone have put you closer to a heart attack than you’ve ever been before, you’re sure of it. All of your worries, all of your struggles, all of the times you’ve wanted to pitch yourself overboard melt away in the wake of this woman’s hands kneading through your back, and when she dips down to your thighs and pinches at the seldom-stretched muscles there, you let out an even louder grunt.

“That’s a pressure point,” You can hear the smile in her words, “It feels good, doesn’t it?’

“It feels amazing.” You mumble, your face squished against the massage chair, “Can I pay for a second hour-and-a-half?”

“It might melt you beyond repair,” She laughs, throwing a glance at Jake who’s similarly blissed out, “I want you two to be able to walk back to your ship tonight.”

“She won’t be walkin’ right tomorrow morning,” Jake grunts, a sleazy drawl in his voice that reminds you you’ve both elected to take a step safely back from each other, for fear of repeating the mud bath incident, because it’s easy, and you’re just not brave enough to change things yet, “Just do whatever she wants and I’ll drag her back to the ship by her braid.”

“Dick.” You accuse, flipping him the bird though you’re not sure if his eyes are open to see it or not. He responds only with his own elaborate, drawn-out moan, and you resign yourself to an hour of hearing him grunt and groan, not that you’ll be quiet yourself.

You don’t fall asleep, but you drift somewhere close to it. Perhaps another plane of existence, where you feel the woman’s hands digging into your flesh and you hear Jake’s guttural moans but you don’t have to think about them. It’s such a wonderful thing, not having to think, and you silently thank the employee nearly elbow-deep into your back muscles for her service.

When your blessed hour and thirty minutes is up- far too soon, you sigh one last time into the massage chair, and look at the masseuse like she’s heaven-sent.

“I love you,” You hum at her, eyes ten times more adoring than they’ve ever looked at Jake, and she grins at you as she passes you your robe.

“Everyone says that to me,” She laughs, her voice clear and melodic, “But no one ever comes back for a second session.”

“I’m getting at least two more,” You promise, “And I’m bringing you some wine off of the ship.”

“I’ll be expecting you tomorrow,” She grins, and Jake’s masseuse smirks in your direction, though he makes it clear it’s at your dialogue and not your bare body by keeping his eyes strictly on your face. You admire their respect, meekly covering your figure with the robe without putting it on.

“Go ahead and leave the robes on the floor,” Jake’s masseuse gestures lazily towards your discarded clothing, “If your payment’s already been processed, you’re free to go. If not, just stop by the desk on your way out. Enjoy the rest of your vacation,” He tilts his head towards you and Jake, a knowing glint in his eyes, “And enjoy not being able to walk tomorrow.”

“This is all your fault.” You glare at Jake when the door shuts behind the man, and once again Jake is standing proudly naked before you. You’ve got your robe in your lap, and Jake’s kind enough to hand you your underwear when he reaches for his swim trunks.

“They know we’re on a sex cruise,” He scoffs, “And they thought we were a couple anyways! I bet everybody in here thinks we’ve been banging for three days straight.”

“It probably didn’t help that you kept trying to moan louder than me,” You slide your panties on carefully, hoisting them up around your hips while holding the robe in front of your bare lap. Once you’re clothed on bottom you gesture towards your bra, but when Jake takes it in his hands he doesn’t offer it to you.

“You want this?” He asks, and the challenge in his voice makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Jake…” You warn, “Give it.”

“Take it.” He sets his jaw squarely in a smirk, reaching his hand over his head and letting it dangle from his fingers, “You were teasin’ me like crazy earlier, doin’ that little strip tease. Now it’s my turn. If you want it, come and take it from me, darlin’.”

You wish you could say it’s not fair. But he’d given you your panties, let you cover the one part of yourself you hadn’t yet been bold enough to share with him, and you suppose you had shucked your bra off only to stir something between his legs. Once again you’re powerless against him, but this time it doesn’t feel so horrible.

You stand from the massage table, topless and covered only by your panties. He watches, his eyes hungry as you approach carefully, then you spring to your tiptoes and test the reach of your arm against his.

He darts backwards, keeping the garment out of your reach.

“Weak,” He criticizes your attempt, “You’ve gotta try harder than that.”

“You’re horrid,” You laugh, a sound you wouldn’t have expected to come out of your mouth in this moment, your bra being held hostage by Hangman, but it is, and it’s a freeing sound as you dash after him.

Your chest bounces as you dart around the room, chasing the strap of your pretty, lacy bra as he dangles it just out of your reach. You jump against his side and nearly manage to grab hold of it, but he swaps hands and it’s out of range again. You lunge for it without jumping around again, your feet clumsily stepping on his own and stunning him just enough to where he stays still, your fingers finally closing around the strap.

“Got it.” You breathe, panting slightly as you stand on Jake’s toes, your bare chest against his.

It’s cold with almost no clothing on, and your nipples have stiffened in the chilly air. They brush against his toned chest, sending pinpricks of stimulation through your body straight down to your core. It’s a thrilling position, your tits slammed against his pecs, his eyes alight with something dangerous as he stares down at you. You’re both still holding onto your bra, his predatory gaze never dropping from your face even if you know it wants to.

His free hand clasps onto your side. Not your hip, not low enough to touch your panties, but beneath where your breasts hang freely. It makes you gasp, a sharp inhale into lungs that suddenly seem too small. You freeze instead of fleeing, your weight still digging into his feet where you stand on them.

His head inches a fraction towards yours, and yours towards his. It’s lustful, it’s not like when you’d breathed each other’s air last night, it’s not sweet or sincere or gentlemanly. It’s his bare hand against your bare side, it’s your bare chest against his, it’s his lips parting, aiming to press against your own.

It’s frenzied, even if it’s slow, one of you a lit match and the other a pool of gasoline. You’ll burst the second your lips come into contact, you know it, and muffled voices behind the door act like a gust of wind that extinguishes the flame and blows the gasoline towards the gutter.

You barely get to fasten your bra before the door opens again, another pair of employees coming to clean up after you, you presume. Jake shields your near-naked form with his broad body, letting you struggle with your romper behind his impressive build.

“We’re not quite done yet,” His voice is kind, but stern, “Give us one more minute?”

“I’m sorry!” The closest employee yelps, and you feel bad for him- you won’t cause any problems, you won’t get him fired, “Let me- let us leave, We're so sorry. We didn’t know there was anyone in here!”

“That’s okay!” You call after them, your voice rough from the haze you’d fallen into during your massage, but the panicked employees are gone before they can hear you. The door shuts again behind him, but you’re already dressed, and the moment is well and truly over.

“You ready?” Jake asks, and you nod, your bag on your shoulder and your phone in your pocket. Neither of you speaks about the explosion you’d narrowly avoided, the way your blood had simmered beneath your skin at being so close to each other. The way your perked nipples had raked over his chest, the way his head had ducked towards yours, the way you’d wanted to fuck him-

The daylight outside of the spa nearly blinds you. You curse yet again that you don’t have a hat, but the sun is making its way towards the horizon again, and it promises a more orange hue than a bright white one as you make your way quietly back down towards the beach, towards your ship, towards your bed where you can roll over and go to sleep without inciting another incident with Jake.

He walks beside you without comment, and another one of those silences grows between you. The ones that are almost hopeful, the ones that make you think maybe you could throw your doubts to the wind and take your leap of faith, even if it petrifies you.

Jake’s hand tugs briefly on your elbow, and you slow your steps towards the shore.

“Look.” He motions to a booth beside you, and you notice a string of airborne gondolas stretching over your heads, loading just to your left, “Do you want an aerial view of the village?”

It looks sturdy, not like a tourist trap, though you’re sure that’s how they make all of their money. You nod, traipsing across the sandy stone beneath your feet, and grab cash for the both of your rides before Jake can even touch his wallet.

“Enjoy,” The operator nudges you both hastily towards an open gondola that descends mere seconds after you step up, and Jake helps hoist you into the tram before it can take off again without you.

You’re rocked a bit by the abrupt boarding, and you fall against your seat with wide eyes. You suppose you understand why they can’t stop the system for every passenger boarding, or it’d never run smoothly, but you’re lucky to have made it inside without falling back to the earth.

“Damn,” Jake notes, and you nod your agreement. You turn your head towards the window of the gondola, peering out over the ocean as you slowly and steadily rise above it.

The view is breathtaking.

Your eyes rove over the sea, sunlight glinting across its waters and shining with the reflections of palm trees. The water is so crystal clear that you wonder if you’ll spot any of the sea creatures you’d seen while snorkeling earlier, but you’re momentarily distracted by the overhead view of your ship as you begin circling the village you’re docked at.

The only sound is the whirring of the sky trams’ motors, and it’s nothing but a quiet hum, leaving the inside of your gondola a vacuum for sound. Jake shuffles in his seat, and it sounds louder than it should because of the silence you’re suffocating in.

“Pretty view,” He notes, and your eyes drift to where he’s watching you with a soft gaze.

“It’s gorgeous.” You back off from where you’d been unwittingly pressing yourself up against the side of the gondola, your feet stretched out and tangled with Jake’s on the floor of the small tram, “Jake?”

“Hm?”

“Are you still having a good time?”

Your voice is nervous, self-conscious, and it makes Jake’s brows furrow. Not entirely, but you can see the concern written on his face as he leans towards you in the gondola.

“I am. When you’re not running away from me, that is.”

You remember the mud bath, and your cheeks flare.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” You hum regretfully, “I’m sorry. I’m- not trying to make this complicated.”

“It’s already complicated.” Jake laments, biting the inside of his cheek.

“It is,” You nod slowly, your hands clasped together, “But- I’m glad you’re not… miserable. I don’t want you to be.”

“Are you?” He asks, tilting his chin towards you, his voice just as worried as yours is.

“No. I’m not miserable,” Your gaze falls towards the floor, “Not- not because of you. I’m making myself miserable, I think. I’m thinking too much.”

“You know what Mav says.” Jake smiles, and even the soft curve of his lips is enough to send your stomach twisting, even if its not his usual shit-eating grin, “Don’t think, just do.”

No. Don’t. Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

“If I did that,” Your voice is raw, wry, “I’d spiral out of control.”

There’s a beat of that thick silence in the air before Jake speaks again, “I asked earlier if you were mad at me.”

“I said no,” You remind him, glancing up guiltily at him through your lashes, “I’m sorry if I’m acting like I am.”

“Do you hate me?” He asks, and the way he says it makes you wonder how long he’s wanted to ask you that for.

You hesitate before answering, but not because you have to think about it.

“No.” You state, meeting his eyes so he knows you mean it, “I don’t hate you, Jake.”

“Do you love me?”

That’s the harder question to answer.

Sitting there, in the tiny, windowed gondola, bathed in the orange hue of the setting sun, you ask yourself: do you love Jake?

You’d have reluctantly agreed before now, that yes, even if he’s a dick, he’s your friend in some capacity, so yes, you suppose you love him. 

But you know that’s not how he means it, not as a friend, not as a teammate, not as a drinking buddy, but as something far more. And the worst part is that you can’t say no with the same conviction as you had earlier, even if you desperately want to.

It’s no use telling yourself not to fall in love with Jake Seresin over and over and over again, because you have a horrible, sinking feeling that you already have.

“I don’t know.” You manage to scrounge up, and it’s the most damning thing you’ve said all week. Your eyes drop from his, and you try to forget the expression you’d seen in them, scarily akin to hope. Your answer weighs heavy on the gondola, and it dips downwards for your slow descent back to the beach. You shift your eyes back towards the sunset for the remainder of your trip, watching it disappear behind the palm trees that line the shore as you finally touch down.

“Get ready.” Jake reminds you, and he takes your hand in his only to tug you out of the tram before it rises again. You stumble a few steps away from it, and keep your head ducked towards the ground as you mumble a thank you towards the operator. You start a slow, silent trek towards the shoreline, feeling frighteningly devoid of any control you thought you’d gained over the situation earlier. You’re spinning out again, lost in your own head, and you feel your knees threatening to buckle beneath your weight as you cross the cobblestone streets. 

A brush of Jake’s pinky finger against your own stops your spiral, and your eyes dart to where your hands bump gently together as you walk side-by-side towards the beach.

Another step, another brush, another step, another brush, until Jake’s hand drifts through the air towards yours, his palm finally catching your own and his fingers curling to seal the deal.

You take a deep breath, close your own fingers into the embrace, and lift your head so that you can see the sunset as you walk hand-in-hand with Jake.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 15

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, fluff, lying, talk of abuse and bruises, swearing, brief mention of assault, just a tiny bit smutty (lotsa kissin'), shitty exes

Word Count: 11k (my bad)

Summary: You're on top of the world after your first real date with Bob. Things are starting to look up for not only you, but your dad when he asks for a favor. But of course, there's always something (or someone) from your past that will try to ruin any good thing you have.

A/N: This one only took like a month and a half rather than the regular three or four, it's a miracle! The story's really moving along now and I hope y'all are just as excited as I am. That being said I do love the comments and reblogs, they keep me motivated :)

Happy reading!

Masterlist

Bob pauses. Just for a second, allowing himself to rest his forehead against your own. Breathing you in, he brings his hand up to cup your jaw. Giving himself a view of your face, he gently caresses his thumb over your cheek as your eyes flutter to close. The Beach Boys are still echoing through the living space. A different song now, but he can’t place it at the moment when his thoughts are somewhere else.

“I wanted to be a gentleman, kiss you on the cheek after walking you to your door.” Your breathy laugh tickles his cheeks and he can’t help but smile.

“As nice as that sounds, I think I like this better.” He leans back, continuing to stroke your skin.

“I know, but you’re not supposed to kiss a girl on the first date.” A laugh escapes you. A genuine belly laugh as you try to turn your head away as you do so. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing”, you catch your breath, “It’s just, to be fair you did kiss me before a date was even a question.” He hums in thought.

“If my memory serves me correctly, you actually kissed me first”, he points out. Your jaw drops before you gather yourself.

“Ok, well you kissed me back”, you point a playful finger at him. “And then you felt me up in your driveway.” His jaw drops this time as he steps back from you, feigning offense. Even if he is joking, it’s obvious you caught him off guard through the sudden flush in his cheeks.

“I- I felt you up?”, he borderline scoffs. “That’s hilarious. You were the one with the wanderin’ hands”, he gestures wildly. You try hard to stifle a wild laugh you know is so close to breaking the surface.

“Oh really?” He nods, so sure. You bow your head, working up the courage to say what you want to. 

“Well, my memory’s kind of fuzzy. Wanna show me what I supposedly did?” His hands fall to his sides, back straightening as he gives you a wide eye stare. His chest rises and falls as you tilt your head in his direction. Daring him.

He steps toward you, reclaiming his spot with his hand against your cheek. You inhale a deep breath as his mouth gets closer toward your own. Closing your eyes in anticipation you can feel his lips just a hair’s breadth away from yours. 

KNOCK KNOCK

The sound coming from the door has you jumping out of your skin and far away from Bob. Somewhere Sylvia runs from the noise and retreats to Bob’s room. 

The fear running down your spine reminds you of everything outside the bubble Bob created. You shouldn’t be here. You’re not supposed to be in his arms, but that’s exactly where you found yourself just seconds ago.

The two of you still. As if you don’t move they won’t somehow realize that you’re there.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The pounding fist comes again, and this time Bob clears his throat, motioning for you to stay put. He leaves and you hear a familiar voice come from the other room.

“Harry sent me over for a cup of sugar, he’s in the middle of making a cake and didn’t realize we were out. Silly man.”

“Of course, lemme go grab that for you”, Bob answers him, a bit breathless.

“I’m so sorry to bother you about this.” The sound of the door closing and voices trailing closer has you desperately looking around the sparse living room for a place to hide. The position of the staircase gives you no way to head upstairs without passing right by them. You quickly realize this is a lost cause and you’ll have to face it head on.

“No, that’s alright. I didn’t know Harry baked.”

Bob walks in first, giving you a deer in the headlights look before turning right into the kitchen.

“You know him, that man is just full of surprises.” Rich follows right behind him, already searching the space. And when his eyes come up with you, he has the audacity to act shocked. “Miss Mitchell! What a surprise”, sure it is. The light must catch your face in the best way because his joy is spoiled as he gets a better look. “Oh my god, who’d you get in a fight with?”

You can’t help but greet him with a fast smile, albeit a little panicked. Bob is busy trying to get him a cup of sugar as quickly as he can, leaving you to entertain his guest.

“Oh, just a baseball. I’m fine. How are you and Harry doing?”, you eagerly redirect the conversation. He takes in your outfit choice and flushed cheeks while you twitch in your spot.

“We are just wonderful”, he can’t hide the satisfied smile on his face from your presence. You’re almost sure that he saw you walking down the street with Bob and has a bet going with Harry that you’re actually here.

Bob returns from the kitchen with the sugar, attempting to usher Rich to the exit.

“Have you had a fun night?”, he asks with an air of teasing.

“Oh yeah, just sitting around with Sylvia while Bob went on his date. We had a lot of fun watching The Office.”

“Really?”, he squints his eyes as if he knows. And you know he does. There’s always the  chance he saw Bob come back with you and not leave again until your walk.

Damn it. Your heart skips a beat and jumps back down to your stomach as you stumble through your words.

“Here’s your sugar Rich!”, Bob forces the container into his hands as he practically pushes him back to the front door.

“I should leave you two, lovely as always seeing you Miss Mitchell!”, he yells back as Bob shuts the door. Sliding his glasses off, Bob runs a hand down his face as he rests against the front door. Acting as a second barrier in case Rich decides Harry forgot something else for the “cake”. 

He finds you waiting in the hallway, chewing the inside of your cheek. He huffs out a laugh.

“So he definitely knows”, you assert as you lean against the wall.

“Yeah, that means that he and Harry know.” Bob decides against telling you that Harry saw the two of you against his truck the other week. He’ll just let you assume Rich is telling Harry what he saw tonight. He’s sure Harry hasn’t told Rich what he saw anyway. Pretty sure at least.

Bob reaches for your hand as you cross the remaining space. You should be heading back soon, and he knows it. Which is why he gathers you in his arms as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers into the silence. You look back at him, a furrow in your brow.

“For Rich?”, you ask with a confused smile. He shakes his head, but you stop him before he can start. “Listen to me, Bob. In spite of every hoop we’ve jumped through, you still managed to give me the best date I’ve ever been on.” His initial instinct is to scrunch his face.

“Really? What kind of losers have you been going on dates with?” You hide your face in his shoulder again. 

The kind where you hope you never see them again, that kind Bob. 

“I’m not kidding. The effort you put in makes a girl feel special.” He’s subconsciously starting to sway with you again in a quiet motion. It reminds you of the ocean. Not the furious tides and currents that sweep people under and drag them out. No. The kind that allows you to float along the surface. The calming ones that almost lull you to sleep while the water laps at your arms, sun kissing your skin. The kind that reminds you of Bob’s eyes. You could get lost at sea just looking at him.

“I’m glad”, he whispers into your hair, placing a kiss at the top of your head. You almost don’t feel deserving of this kind of attention. He’s too good. “Is it the kind of date that makes you wanna go on a second one?”

You lift your head and see him giving you a soft smile. Nervous, but still there. Your hand runs over his jaw as you nod your head. There’s no hesitance when the two of you meet in the middle, and you feel him smiling against your lips.

You’ve been lucky enough to never eject from your aircraft, but now you know what it must feel like. Falling.

-----------------------

Bob kissed you once more, much like a gentleman would. And then drove you home. You weren’t surprised to find both Rich and Harry sitting on their porch when you left. Maybe Harry finished baking his “cake” early.

As much as Bob wanted to walk you back up to your door, he refrains. Opting instead to squeeze your hand and watch you go until the door is safely shut.

“Hey, how’d it go?”, your dad asks as he lounges on the couch. He must have left the bar early.

“Good”, you tell him as you try to wipe the grin off your face. “Sylvia’s a doll.” You try your darndest to avoid any more questions as you undo your shoes at the door. Your dad stands directly in front of the staircase, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blocking your path.

“Did Bob say how his date went?” You expertly shrug it off as you avoid his eyes.

“Yeah, I think it went well. Said he’s going on a second date with her, so we’ll see what happens.”

“Wow.” “Wow what?”

“Didn’t know Bob was bold enough to ask for a second date while on the first, good for him.” He’s still standing directly in your way damn it. 

“Yeah”, you chuckle as you attempt to sidestep him, “You’d be surprised.” He stands his ground while he folds his arms across his chest. Something you only see him do when he gets serious. That or nervously running his hands together.

“Well, I’m gonna-”, you motion with your shoe to the stairs behind his head. He turns, but doesn’t move. You cock your head, squinting in his direction. “Why are you being so weird?” His brows fly up his forehead, but you can tell he’s not completely there.

“I’m- I’m not being weird. I was just wondering if we could have our catch up tonight.” Shit. This cannot be a coincidence.

“Oh our fortnightly meetings?”, you try to laugh it off. “Dad, I’m tired. Can we do this tomorrow?” He contemplates it for a moment, but lets you go.

“Yeah, I guess we can”, he forces a smile before kissing your head. “Goodnight, kid.”

As you reach the top of the stairs, you take a second to look down. He’s still standing there, but this time with his hand rubbing his temples. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this anxious.

-----------------------

You hardly get any sleep that night. Even if you had the most amazing time with Bob, your overthinking has wrecked your sleep schedule.

There’s no way your dad can know, right? Right. And even if he somehow thinks there’s a possibility that you even went on a date with Bob all you’re going to do is deny, deny, deny. He can’t possibly have any kind of proof. Damn you for wanting to wear a dress for once.

Your father is already up for the day. He must have an even worse internal clock than you do, because he’s always up and ready by 5:00 am. This time, he greets you with a cup of coffee as you meet him in the kitchen. Steeling your nerves, you try to ignore the way your hand shakes as you reach for the mug he’s prepared you.

He doesn’t even notice. There’s something else weighing on his mind, and you don’t think you can handle one more second not knowing.

“How’d you sleep?”, he asks.

“Ok, spit it out”, you take him off guard. “What is going on?” He sighs, shaking off his wide eyes from your bluntness as he sets his Navy emblazoned mug down. He rubs his worn hands together as you take a deep breath. Here it comes.

“I’m going to ask Penny to marry me.” Oh- that is not what you were expecting to hear. He peeks a look at you from under his bowed head and you’re silent before you gather your bearings.

“Dad”, you almost gasp, “That’s amazing!” He visibly relaxes at your words, shoulders falling from where they were at his ears. You get up and give him a hug he wasn’t expecting. You’re amazed he doesn’t know anything, but you’re also elated he’s finally taking things seriously with Penny. 

“Wait”, you push yourself away from him, “Have you talked to Amelia yet?”

“Not yet”, he rubs the back of his neck, “But I am going to. This is another reason why I wanted to talk to you.” He gives you a look. One that tells you he’s about to ask for a favor.

“What do you need?”, you eye him warily.

“I was hoping to get together and have a family dinner sometime this week. And maybe you can, I don’t know, talk to Amelia? Warm her up to the idea a little bit.”

“You think she’s going to be upset about it?” He weighs his head from side to side, turning to clean his mug. You down the rest of your drink, now able to stomach the topic when it’s not you.

“She’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“Dad, she’s just protective of her mom. You can’t blame her for being a little apprehensive when you’ve been in and out of her life for the better part of 30 years.” He pauses at the realization, you do as well as you say the words. He will always go back to Penny. No matter what. And this time he’s here to stay.

“I think once she knows that you plan on proposing it’ll just solidify whatever you’ve told her already. I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.” He scoffs, staring at a point on the counter.

It’s quiet as he contemplates your words, only interrupting as you start to scrub your own mug.

“Why don’t you ever go on dates?” The dish slips out of your hand, and by some miracle doesn’t break as it ricochets in the sink. You huff out a nervous laugh.

“What?”

“Sorry, I just mean I’ve never met anyone you’ve dated. And I know for sure you haven’t gone on any dates since we got here.” Oh if only you knew. You take a second to collect your thoughts, nodding along to whatever he’s saying.

“I don’t know”, you shrug, “Just hasn’t been something I’m seeking out.” Which is the definitive truth. You weren’t seeking Bob out in any capacity other than by making a friend. And now look at you, head over heels for the WSO.

“Why not?”

“Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”, you glare at him from the corner of your eye.

“I just want you to be happy”, he shrugs.

“I am happy”, you conclude. “ I genuinely am, and maybe I don’t want a man coming along and ruining that. Plus-”, you add as you dry your hands on a dish towel, “I’ve seen what mankind has to offer, and so far I’m not impressed.” Translation: I don’t want a repeat of past mistakes. One bad experience is enough to ruin any ideation of a future with a happy ending. 

Well, up until this point at least. This was sincerely your head space before you found out good men exist outside of fiction.

Bob is the first one to ever treat you like more than just a title, or a warm body. He treats you like a person. But not only that, he values and respects you. Something you didn’t think would be so hard to ask for.

He raises his hands in surrender, dropping the subject. For now.

-----------------------

You are ever so grateful for the reprieve Bob offered you over the weekend. Because Monday back at work is complete hell. Bob’s still driving you, which is nice to have some alone time where you can be yourselves. But when you get to work it’s a whole other story.

Thick packets are already at desks for the team to look at, and Mav goes over every single maneuver you’re expected to relearn and perfect in the next two weeks. All of them are evasive, which means more dogfights, which means more pushups to whoever loses.

By Wednesday you’re tasked with dogfight after dogfight, staying in the air as long as possible. It’s starting to put a strain on every muscle in your body, so even when you get to the tarmac you’re already flopping on your belly even if you didn’t lose. With the amount of dogfights each of you is competing in, it’s a miracle if you aren’t doing at least 300 pushups by the end of the day.

You can see it draining the rest of the team, as well as yourself. Bob almost has to wake you up when he stops at your house after work on Thursday.

“You ok?”, he asks, blinking hard under his glasses. His hair is almost completely slicked back from the amount of time it’s had to sit under his helmet today. Both of you reek of sweat and fuel, but it doesn’t stop the temptation to pull him closer. You stop yourself when you realize it’s broad daylight on your street, but god. You just wanna fall asleep with him next to you.

“Yeah”, you give him a tired smile, “Just wish I could go to sleep instead of dinner at Penny’s.”

“What about tomorrow? We can put on a movie and pretend to watch it while we’re asleep.” You don’t want to tell him your mind is wandering to a lazy makeout session on his couch as well, but a car whizzing by bursts your bubble.

“I think Fanboy said something about going to the Hard Deck tomorrow night”, you groan. “It might look weird if we’re the only two not there.” Not to mention that if Penny’s working your dad will most likely be moping around the house waiting until she gets done. He contemplates this for a second, and tries his best not to look any more deflated than he already is.

“Saturday?”, you suggest.

“Saturday”, he smiles. You squeeze his hand and hop out, resisting the temptation to do more. It’s been absolutely killing you to not kiss him hello or goodbye, but you know that will make it all the more sweeter when you’re actually alone this weekend. By then it will be more than a week of not feeling his lips on yours, god when did you get so desperate?

To be honest, even if you haven’t done more than holding hands in his truck, he’s made this week a lot easier than it would have been without him. It’s taking its toll on the entire squad, but even just catching his eye from across the room, or bumping his fist before take off sets you at ease.

It was an accident when you knocked your knee into his at the lunch table Monday, but he knocked you right back. It’s become your unspoken way of checking in with each other without anyone noticing. Just another part of your language no one else has the liberty of understanding or realizing is being communicated right under their noses.

-----------------------

“Jesus, dad. Calm down, she’s not gonna bite”, you tell him as you make your way up to Penny’s home. He’s tapping the side of the bowl with whatever concoction he mixed together last minute. You can’t help but yawn as you climb the last couple of steps to the door.

“Hey, look alive”, he almost scolds you, “You have a very important task here.”

“If I wasn’t in the air for five hours today or doing like a million pushups after, I might have the energy to argue with you.” Damn Hangman, getting the jump on you right before you were ready to finish for the day. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“You don’t know teenage girls.”

“Um, I think you’re forgetting I was one.” You knock at the door while giving him a lethal side eye.

“Yeah, but you weren’t-”, he weighs his words, “You didn’t do the normal teenage things.” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Oh you mean I didn’t steal cars or get drunk at parties?” His mouth falls open and he forgets his troubles for a split second. In all truth you were a very well mannered teenager. Respectable. Quiet. You had to be.

“Who told you I stole cars?”

“When did you steal a car?”, Amelia asks as the door cracks open. The two of you almost jump out of your skin at the sudden hormone riddled apparition at the front door.

“Hey Amelia!”, you greet in an over cheerful manner for someone who you would describe as a walking corpse. You’re sure your smile looks more painful than genuine. She must see the same thing you feel, because with a side eye that rivals your own she moves aside to let the two of you in.

Penny greets you in the kitchen, and you’re about to ask if she needs any help when your dad nods his head in the direction Amelia went in. You follow his lead, leaving the two of them.

Amelia is sitting in the living room, textbook open on her lap as she takes notes. She doesn’t acknowledge you as you sit on the other edge of the couch.

“What kind of homework are you working on?”

“Algebra”, she replies without looking up. You tap the sides of your thighs, glancing around the room, admiring the frames of pictures and seaside decor. The silence carries on as your fried brain tries finding another topic.

“How’s school going?”

“It’s fine”, she answers dryly. “How’s work?”, she surprises you by asking. But at least it gives you an in.

“It’s alright, Mav has been riding us pretty hard this week. But I know he means well.” She stops what she’s doing and quirks her head.

“Do you always call him Mav?”

“No, usually only in respect to work. That or Captain Mitchell. But at home he’s just dad.” She nods, hesitating for only a second before going back to her work. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know”, she shrugs, “I’m never sure whether to call him Pete or Mav, but if he’s gonna marry my mom I guess I should ask him what he prefers since I’ll be seeing him more often.”

“Well, if I know him he-”, you make a quick turn to stare at the girl, “Wait, how do you know about that?” She shrugs again.

“My mom’s talked to me about the possibility, it’s just a matter of time really”, she answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“So you’re not upset about it?”

“No”, she shakes her head, “He makes my mom happy, and he’s already promised me he’s not going to break her heart again. I want to believe him.” You laugh silently to yourself. You wished you had the attitude of this girl when you were her age.

“Trust me, if he does he’ll have more than just you to answer to. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he will.” She nods at you, and then goes back to her homework. She leaves you feeling a little better, but still in silence as your dad “helps” Penny. You try to recall what you were talking about the last time you were together. Something about Amelia just being asked to a dance?

“So… you getting excited for Homecoming?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” She keeps her head down.

“Do what?”

“Try and make an effort”, she so plainly replies in an annoyed sigh. “I already have step-siblings, I know how this works. Just because our parents might be getting married doesn’t mean we have to have a relationship.” Her attitude leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you try not to grimace from old feelings surfacing at the comment. You take a breath.

“You know, I had step-siblings, too. It was always awkward around them, and neither of our parents tried to make an effort to integrate our families. I tried to get to know them, but they never seemed interested.” Her pencil stops moving on her notebook paper, but she still won’t look up. “I don’t want it to be that way between the two of us. Even if I am older by a few years-”

“Try more than a decade”, she interrupts.

“Ok, fine- Even if I am old enough to be your teen mom”, you get her to crack on that one, “I’d still like to try and be somewhat of a step-sister to you. If you want.” Her eyes stop on a single word, not reading just…staring. She doesn’t say anything, and you’ve almost decided to give up before she speaks.

“I’ve never had a sister before.” You exhale in relief.

“Neither have I really. Do you want one?” Her eyes dart to you, but you don’t look away. Steadying your gaze, you wait for her to come to you.

“It might be nice”, she tries to shrug the gravity off of her words.

“I mean, you can come to me about stuff you don’t want to talk to your mom about, we can have girls nights, you can call me at any hour- oh! And you can tell me all about the boy who asked you to your dance.” You try not to get ahead of yourself, but the way Amelia lulls her head back and tries to hide her smile just makes you want to keep going.

“But I’m serious. Whatever kind of relationship you want, I’m here for it.” The two of you come to a silent agreement and she continues on with her homework. Or at least that’s what you thought was happening. You’re left to twiddle your thumbs again while Mav and Penny get up to god knows what in the kitchen- actually maybe you should go see if they need any help.

“Do you mean it?”, the confident girl you’ve gotten to know starts to shrink in on herself. Nervous and insecure in the way she’s asking if you’ll stick around and be there for her. This is the kind of thing that reminds you of yourself at her age.

“Tell you what”, you turn and offer her your pinkie finger, “we’ll swear on it.” Her insecurity vanishes as she raises a brow.

“A pinkie promise? Are you serious?”

“Just gimme your pinkie you little shit”, she fails to hold back her laugh and gives you what you ask. The two of you lock fingers and you give her an unwavering stare. And with a nod of your heads the two of you forge the way for something neither of you have been a part of before.

“So does that mean I can ask you anything?” You squint, suspicious of where this is going.

“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer. Why?”

“Just wanted to know how you got the bruise”, she motions to your face. It had been fading nicely over the past week, now just a faint discoloration of your skin remains. You huff out a breath, it’s no use trying to lie to this girl.

“Rooster threw a baseball at me.” Her face screws up in curiosity.

“Is it because you punched him in the face?” Your brows scrunch as you try not to smile at her. Of course she knows. “You’re a good liar, he’s not”, she explains.

“He hit me by accident, he got punched in the face cause he’s an idiot.”

“What did he do?”. A humorless laugh escapes your lips.

“He said something extremely, extremely thoughtless and rude.”

“He probably deserved it”, she decides. You try to stifle your smile, but just like a sister would, she’s already taking your side.

“Soup’s on kids”, the two of you turn your heads at your dads arrival. You don’t know how long he was standing there, but if the smile that he gives you is any indication you know you got your job done for the night.

“We’re having soup?”, Amelia turns to you as you enter the kitchen.

“No, that’s just something old people say when dinner’s ready”, you joke. Your dad does not find it amusing.

-----------------------

The Hard Deck is bustling. Overflowing with aviators, sailors, and everyone in between. The setting sun casts a warm glow through the open windows, throwing every person in their best lighting. A carrier made port today, hence the warm welcome to those who haven’t been on land in months. If there was one place you’d go to get away from anything Navy related it would sure as shit not be the Hard Deck. But to you and others it’s a home away from home. Penny made sure of that.

The majority of your squadron showed up late to the party, opting to change into their civilian clothes rather than coming straight from work in your flight suits. Somehow you stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.

Bob picked Fanboy up first, leaving you to awkwardly squish in between them on the way over. You gave Bob an awkward smile, knocking your knee against his as Fanboy did up his own seatbelt.

 Bob is more often than not Fanboy’s designated driver nowadays. Payback ends up leaving earlier than everyone else if he even comes out, he has a wife and kids after all. The rest of you… not so much.

Bob even relays the message Fanboy told him that he was either going to “get laid or fucked up” tonight. And you for one can’t wait to see how that works itself out.

Somehow there are always a gaggle of girls who just know when a deployment ends. And they’re always first in line to get into the Hard Deck. Fanboy being out of his uniform does not bode well in his favor tonight. Those just getting back from deployments are eager to let off some steam, and these women are just about willing to help anyone in a uniform.

Bob opens the door for you, and you give him a smile just a touch beyond polite as he tips his head. You catch Penny’s eye and give her a wave as you make your way through the crowd.

It’s all hustle and bustle before you finally find yourself at the pool table where Phoenix is showing Rachel how to play. You’re 99% sure she already knows how, and you give Nat a knowing smirk anyway as they stand up from their shot.

“Shit”, Fanboy reappears handing you a beer, “If I knew it was gonna be this busy I wouldn’t have suggested it.” He takes a swig of his own bottle as you eye the place. It’s shoulder to shoulder as people pack the bar, waiting for their drinks.

“All I know is that Penny and Jimmy better be swimming in tips by the end of the night”, you murmur into your bottle.

Phoenix moves over, handing the cues to you and Bob before heading back to get more drinks with Rachel. And that’s when you notice Bob’s cowboy boots peeking out from under his jeans. You try to subtly look up the expanse of his tall figure without him catching you. He’s busy re-racking the balls to notice, but that doesn’t mean other people haven’t.

Shaking him from your thoughts, you start the game. You circle around each other, throwing smart comments his way every once in a while. He tries to hide his mischievous smile, but you catch it as he bends for his turn. Usually Fanboy would be over here supervising whatever meticulous shot Bob’s attempting, but he’s disappeared somewhere around the room. Presumably to achieve one of his goals for the night.

Your teammates slowly appand you greet them as you take your final shot, beating Bob. Again. You give him a sympathetic look and shrug. He just shakes his head at you. Not in disbelief from you winning, more of a way to tell you it’s no use.

“Sorry, Bob. But you did a lot better this time!”, you laugh.

“Where’s your fight Bob?”, Hangman interrupts, “Let me show you how it’s supposed to be done.” He grabs the cue out of his hand, and Bob makes his way over to stand next to you.

“You put up a good fight”, you console him with a shoulder pat. He laughs to cover the buzz he feels from the contact, but you let your hand slide away before you have the urge to let it linger on the muscle.

A quiet figure walks up beside you, and you know who it is before he even speaks. The Hawaiian shirt hanging from his shoulders is so loud you don’t even need to look over.

It’s been better with the team. Rooster’s kept his mouth shut long enough he hasn’t had the chance of shoving his foot up there. Or you shoving your foot so far up his ass it comes out the other end.

Bob nudges your shoulder with his own, pointing to the corner of the room. Fanboy is attempting and failing to keep a girl’s attention. Her eyes keep drifting over his shoulder to someone else in a khaki uniform. You chuckle as Bob leans down so you can hear him over the din of the bar. His breath warm on your cheek.

“How long do you think he’s gonna hold her hostage over there?”

“I don’t know”, you smile, “but I’d say he’s going home shitfaced tonight.” Bob chuckles as you reach for your empty bottle.

“I’m getting another beer”, you tell him before leaving. You catch sight of Rachel waving Rooster over to her and Phoenix while Hangman is explaining his shot to Bob.

“Another round, Mantis?”, Penny asks as you approach.

“Just one. Oh- and a cup of peanuts please.”

“You got it”, she gives you a smile as you wait. You watch as Jimmy shovels ice into a glass and you’re almost tempted to ask for a cup. It is too damn hot in here.

“Mitchell, is that you?” Your stomach drops, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. Your teeth clench so hard you’re sure one of them has cracked. Your ears start to ring as the world keeps spinning around you. You haven’t heard that voice since- 

“I knew it was.” Fuck.

-----------------------

“And that is how it’s done”, Hangman comments before the eight ball drops. “Did you see that, Bob?” He nods and feigns interest, as if he was watching the whole time. Fanboy dejectedly walks up to Bob’s side, huffing out a breath of frustration.

“That bad, huh?”, Bob asks him.

“I kept telling her I was in the Navy, but she didn’t seem to believe me.”

“Say she did believe you, what was your plan? You couldn’t have taken her back to your place, I drove you here.” Fanboy smirks.

“We coulda gone back to hers, or ya know- there are doors with locks around here.” Bob scrunches his face in disgust at the insinuation.

“What, the bathroom?” He simply shrugs, and returns to chugging his drink. The noise B Bob makes gathesr everyone else’s attention.

“Wouldn’t be the first time these bathrooms have seen some action”, Hangman joins in.

“That’s disgusting”, Rooster comments as he frowns, a beer bottle hanging from his fingers.

“Nah, you’re just too chicken shit to admit you did the deed in the ladies room.”

“Really Hangman?”, Phoenix adds in as she misses her shot, “You’re bragging about having sex where strangers shit?”

Bob is thoroughly enjoying the conversation, and knows you would find it just as amusing. You’ve actually been gone longer than it takes to get a beer, especially with Penny at the helm. He looks over his shoulder, eyes wandering the bar until he spots a glimpse of you behind a flight suit clad back. Everyone’s still arguing when he asks.

“Hey, who’s Mantis talking to?” A few of them stop and turn at the disruption. It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable as the man reaches to give you a hug. You don’t try to stop it, but you don’t reciprocate. Instead you wait until he’s done touching you before trying to create more distance.

You try to sidestep him, revealing the face of the stranger. He’s not ugly, but he has an air of pretentiousness that dissuades Bob from believing anything genuine is coming from his mouth.

“Is that Knoxville?”, Hangman asks with the pool cue in hand.

“Can’t be, last I heard he was with the Atlantic fleet”, Coyote adds.

“Who the hell is Knoxville?”, Rooster asks with a stern look. The man couldn’t look more concerned if he tried. If Bob knew any better he’d think he was ready to run over there himself. Bob’s just about to, but it looks like you’ve gained your footing as the surprise has worn off.

“Oh shit, that is Knoxville”, Coyote moves to get a better look.

“Again, who the hell is Knoxville?”, Bob asks this time, getting impatient.

“Just some jackass who thinks he’s too big for his britches.” Coyote replies as he eyes the scene along with everyone else.

“What are we all looking at?”, Phoenix appears behind the wall of men. Intrigue twisting into a mix of disgust and shock. “Oh my god.”

“You know Knoxville, too?”, Bob asks as you start to make your way over, jackass in tow.

“Knoxville? No. That’s Lieutenant Douchebag.”

-----------------------

He appeared out of nowhere. And then he hugged you like he was owed your touch. And now here you are, dragging yourself back to your team with your tail between your legs. This is embarrassing, no it’s actually humiliating. And now everybody else is going to think the same.

Without looking, you hand Bob his cup of peanuts which he takes silently. You don’t think you can look at him right now. Even if everyone is watching you, expecting an explanation, you’re not in the mood to give them one.

“You gonna introduce me Princess?”, Tyler leans down to your ear, loud enough for everyone else to hear anyway. You want to twist your head away, ignore him for the rest of your life, but you stand your ground. His breath makes you shudder, and not in a good way.

“Knoxville!”, Coyote barks out before you can respond.

“Coyote! How’s it going man?”, Tyler claps him on the back and Coyote gives it right back. If not a touch harder. Hangman greets him as well, with a flat smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You’d almost be interested to ask how they know each other if you weren’t itching to get the hell out of here.

Across the pool table, Nat meets your eyes. An invisible conversation taking place as you try your best to ignore what’s happening right in front of you.

She stares more intently, subtly shifting her head to the side. Are you ok?

You steel your features and quietly raise your brow. What do you think?

“So how do you know Mantis here?”, Hangman finally asks him. You look up, paining a smile to appear. Covering any emotion that tries to surface. Before you can say anything, he’s already talking over you. Typical.

“Mantis, huh?”, he turns to you. He couldn’t be any more condescending if he were sitting on a throne with you at his feet. “She used to go by Princess when we were dating.” 

And it’s out.

You can feel Bob’s eyes flick to the side of your face. You don’t look at him. You can’t. You will break and crumble if you do.

“Yeah well, it’s Mantis now”, you don’t care if you sound snippy anymore. You never even liked the nickname. You didn’t “go by Princess”. That was his nickname for you. One you loathed with your entire being. It stemmed from an incessant reminder that you were “Navy royalty” as he so said. You felt more like Cinderella before she had a fairy godmother to make everything better.

“Aw come on, it’s all for old times sake, Princess”, you’re sure he thinks he’s being funny. He doesn’t know you well enough to know how to get under your skin. He doesn’t want to. Because you still might prove useful to him.

“How long are you in town?”, Rooster interrupts. He’s moved over to Phoenix’s side, and she’s stone-faced at the man. Like usual, Tyler hasn’t even noticed she’s there. She was never someone he could use and manipulate so he wrote her off.

“At least for a couple weeks.” Of course. Whenever he reappears he has to try to unravel all you’ve wound up since he left. Maybe you could get Penny to ban him from the bar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name….” Rooster remains glued to his spot, arms crossed across his chest.

“Rooster”, he grumbles. He’s mad, but as far as you know he has no reason to be. Tyler catches sight of Phoenix and her face twitches. Surely a defense to not roll her eyes.

“Nat! How long’s it been?”

“Not long enough apparently”, she speaks through painfully obvious gritted teeth. The fake smile does nothing to cover it.

“Wait, how do you two know each other?”, Coyote asks.

“Oh we all went to the Academy together, but it’s been a while. Not Princess though”, he turns back to you, a smug grin wiping over his teeth. Shut up, you will him.

“We ran into each other, what was it? Five years ago?”. Damn it. All you can do is pray that nobody remembers Nat’s party. The stupid question you answered. The game Hangman started just to make you squirm.

The shifting eyes and slowly growing smile on Hangman’s face prove your prayers go unanswered. It must click in everyone else’s minds. You can’t breathe.

The air is suffocating. They already know too much about you. This extremely intimate and personal part of your life is not something you were planning on disclosing to anyone.

“Five years you said?”, Hangman asks, looking at you and not at the man the question is directed to.

“Yeah, one of those hoity toity balls. Perfect place for royalty”, he laughs at you. You scrunch your face up at him, hiding how tight you’re clenching your teeth.

“So what have you been up to?”, Phoenix asks, redirecting his attention. Thank god for Natasha Trace. He forgets about you, never letting an opportunity to talk about himself get away. He drones on about getting transferred, getting promoted, yada yada yada. Whatever he thinks makes himself look good, even if he takes some liberties.

“Hey”, Bob steps in with a whisper, “Do you wanna leave?” You look at his feet, brown cowboy boots stare back. Straightening yourself, you give him a silent nod. Without another word, you catch Phoenix’s eye and she does her best to distract Tyler as you go.

She’ll have to do damage control by herself. Rooster watches as you leave, not saying anything but you’re sure he must be so disappointed that this was the kind of man you associated yourself with. There’s a small part of you that’s embarrassed he knows. And a part of you that’s disappointed in yourself, too.

He’s not at liberty to that part of your life. But now it’s out in the open, and for someone as stupid as him, he’s not a complete idiot. He’s already connected the dots.

-----------------------

You haven’t said a word. Bob’s not sure if you’re going to. Your jaw’s been clenched since you showed up with him, and the only shift was when you were grinding your teeth as he spoke. 

He’s about to turn the corner to your street when you speak up.

“Can we keep driving”, your voice cracks from disuse. Or just from how tight you’ve been holding yourself.

“Of course”, he agrees and reroutes. Where to, he’s not quite sure yet. You’re still quiet as he makes his way out of the suburbs, passing house after house until he finds a relatively empty beach. Only a few people remain, staggering back to their cars to head home. The sun is dipping below the horizon as he parks.

You stare forward, admiring the view. Huffing out a breath, he watches as you squeeze your fingers with one hand, rather harshly, almost until the blood stops flowing.

He checks the cup holder in his door, reaching down and fumbling with the loose change until he finds what he’s looking for.

With his free hand, he separates your own, giving them a gentle squeeze. And once they’re loose he drops the copper coin in your palm. But he doesn’t let go, not yet.

You exhale, the closest thing to a laugh he’ll get out of you. And then you look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Hesitating.

“Just an invitation”, he shrugs, “Feel free to decline.” That gets you to smile the tiniest bit. Progress.

You don’t let go of his hand, instead placing the penny in your pocket and opting to trace over his fingers. Your eyes drop from his, watching your own movements.

“Tyler- or Knoxville I guess, was my first boyfriend.” That much was obvious to Bob. But he doesn’t interrupt as you gather the courage for whatever else is coming his way.

“We met back at the Academy, I really didn’t know how to act in a relationship, and it was obvious later that he only started to become interested once he knew my dad was higher up, and that my god father was even higher than him.” You sigh, again. Getting worked up over every memory going through your mind.

“He used me- for a lot of things, but I still stayed with him longer than I should have.  He graduated the year before Phoenix, and then he broke up with me right before he left. Asking if we could still be friends, and whatever bullshit he used as an excuse. And that’s not even the worst part.” A humorless laugh escapes your lips. You scrunch your eyes before letting go of Bob’s hands, instead running them down your face. Hiding yourself from him.

“It was five years ago, when I ran into him at a gala”, you suck in a deep breath before continuing. Bob already knows where this is going, and he’s not sure he wants to hear it. But he listens intently to your words despite the gnawing ache in his chest.

“Ugh”, you huff, “I was lonely, and more than a little drunk. I regretted it when I came to my senses the next morning. It’s just-”, you stop and clench your teeth, hands balling into fists on your lap. You sound more frustrated with yourself than hurt.

Bob reaches to relax your fist with his hand, giving you something else to put your focus into. Releasing a breath, you hide from him beneath your lashes.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. He sounds like a real-”

“Douchebag?”, you venture to guess.

“Yeah.” He stops- thinking back on what you just told him. Furrowing his brow, he asks, “Was he also drunk when you uh…”, he chooses his words wisely, “Saw him last?”

“I don’t- I don’t remember”, you shake your head, “I try not to think about it. Wasn’t a very fun night for me.” You try to laugh it off. He doesn’t like where his mind is going, but he has to know.

“It already sounds like he took advantage of you, but did he-”

“No!”, you’re quick to cut him off, “No, nothing like that. I promise. It was just never… good for me?” You phrase it as if it’s a question. Like you don’t believe yourself.

“I don’t know, he always made it about his needs and I never- he never cared about mine. It never even felt like a relationship. He only cared or seemed interested when my clothes were off. I don’t even think he knew my birthday or what my favorite color was.” You wince, trying to pull your hand away from his to cover yourself up again. “This is so embarrassing.” His heart breaks for you. Right after you left your mom's, the world found some way to put you with a man who didn’t even care to get to know you. What a fucking loser.

“What’s so embarrassing about that?”, he wonders. Pulling your hand back to your lap, his other reaches to trace your jaw. “He’s the one who should be embarrassed, never taking you into consideration. That’s not what a real man does.”

-----------------------

Your brain falters. Almost resets from its original coding as Bob swipes his thumb across your jaw. Even as he mindlessly comforts you, his eyes never look away from yours. They never drift past the part of you he’s trying to reach.

Because that’s the thing. Even when discussing the intimate topic, evading the real words, he’s not trying to reach any other part of you except for you as a whole. Not just a body part he can use for his own gratification.

And in just being his wonderfully genuine self, you find yourself emotional but also incredibly turned on.

It might just be the bare minimum, but it feels like more. It feels like Bob.

“You ok?”, he asks a little quieter this time. You manage to blink yourself out of your daze, recentering yourself to his calloused hand’s gentle touch.

“Yeah”, you manage to breathe over a whisper, “What about you?” You dare to ask.

“What about me?”, he returns, not understanding your question.

“Do you-”, you swallow, “Take other people's needs into consideration?” He blinks, quickly. A twitch of a smile ghosts across his face, before he nods. He understands what you’re asking.

“Your needs are mine”, his voice, now husky, whispers back. You could tremble at the sound. Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage.

“In that case, I’m gonna need you to kiss me, Bob.” That lopsided smile makes an appearance before he slowly leans in, brushing his lips against yours. It’s gentle, soft. Not enough. He backs away, not daring to push you any further.

You let go of his hand, reaching for the back of his head to guide him back to you. Your foreheads touch, and his eyes flick between yours and down to your lips. A silent question you answer by attaching your lips back to his. He returns it with fervor.

Turning your head, you deepen the kiss, running your hand through his shorter hair. He gives you exactly what you give him, not trying to go any further than you’re willing. 

You dare to swipe your tongue over his lips and he welcomes it with a quiet hmmph.

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair. He doesn’t pull, doesn’t ask for more, just massages where his fingers go. Or at least that’s what it feels like as your brows wrinkle in pure pleasure.

His touch has you aching for more, and as you try to scoot down the bench, your seatbelt stops you. Breaking away for a split second, you move to undo the barrier. Bob does the same, albeit much quicker than you’re able to with your shaky fingers.

The feeling of Bob’s lips moving down your tilted jaw certainly don’t help.

Your hand falters, and he stops.

“Is this ok?”, he asks under his breath.

“Yeah, more than”, you exhale. His mouth returns, trailing his lips from your jaw to the top of your neck. And you’re still too far away. His nose nudges against your jawline, moving to where he can get better access to what he wants. His glasses scrape against your cheek as he opens his mouth.

The seat belt clicks and you’re on the move. Hands fumbling to grip the back of his neck as he continues to kiss your skin. Your eyes flutter and close, your hand finds his knee, gripping on for dear life. 

His lips find their way back to yours, knees knocking into each other as you desperately try to get closer to him. You can feel yourself getting hotter by the second, butterflies making their descent.

You break to catch your breath, his fanning over your face and pushing loose strands of hair outwards. Braving to open your eyes, all you see are the fogging lenses of his glasses.

You don’t have time to admire the sight before his lips drag down your previously untouched skin, the other side of your neck he didn’t explore before. You hum in enjoyment, spurring on his tongue to trace over every inch of skin he’s kissed.

“Bobby”, you mumble, “So- so good.” Your hand drifts higher, dragging over the rough denim of his thigh. You’re trying and failing not to imagine what’s underneath, whining at the thought.

His large hand moves to splay over your hip. But what nearly does you in is his fingers landing right where your shirt rides up from your jeans. The touch sends a shiver through you, goosebumps forming on your skin, hair sticking up on your arms.

He’s kissing you again, wet skin on your neck cooling against the air as it dries. Your knees bump his again, and you swear to god the next time will be the last.

You don’t even think really, just go on instinct as they knock into each other for another goddamn time. Lifting your leg, you swing it over his lap, where you now find yourself sitting. It’s more of an awkward hunch so your head doesn’t hit the roof. 

His hands aren’t on you anymore, they must have fallen off during the move. His head hits the headrest, eyes wide under those damn glasses. Oh shit, he doesn’t want this.

You both just sit there, chests falling and rising. You’re just as surprised as he is by your own position.

“I can move”, you quickly try to undo what you’ve already done. His hands shoot out to your hips, anchoring you to him.

“Please don’t”, he huffs and swallows. Hands twitching where they rest. Your hand reaches forward, moving through his hair as you settle into your position. For a split second, just as your fingers move, your brain so lovingly reminds you of where you’ve seen this familiar scene before.

Your dream- before it turned into a nightmare.

A flash of panic tries to run its course through your nervous system but then- a trace of his finger down your cheek, delicately pushing your hair behind your ear. He’s here. This is real.

“Where’d you go?”, he whispers. You don’t say anything. Instead, you push forward, needing to feel him again. To know this is a dream you aren’t waking up from.

His lips are just as warm and soft as they were two seconds ago, but there’s something different. Something deeper. A need in you that he’s more than happy to indulge.

And then. your hips graze right over his as you try to get closer. A deep sound comes from his throat, making your mouth vibrate. Interesting.

You test it again, and this time it’s a little louder, his grip on your hip just a tiny bit tighter. Not hurting in any way, just a sense of pressure that lets you know he feels you. You test again, feeling him harden under his jeans.

“Shit”, he hisses as you take your turn to kiss his sharp jawline. Just the slightest whisper of scruff tickling your lips. “Sweetheart yer killin’ me here-” His accent creeps out, and you smile against his skin. 

Your hand slides down the back of his shirt, just barely enough to feel what you have yet to see. His hips buck against yours in a twitch as you barely tug on his earlobe with your teeth. His back is warm beneath your touch and you’re aching to feel more of him.

You can feel yourself start to sweat, windows just starting to fog up the longer you stay hooked to each other.

A harsh bright light sears through your eyelids and you immediately unattach yourself from Bob’s neck, not unlike a leech. His hands remain in your hair and on your waist, but he goes rigid as you stop.

“Car”, you tap his shoulder.

“Shit”, he says as he pulls you under him, flat against the bench seat. You try not to yelp at the motion, but your legs are now wrapped around his hips which pin you to the fading leather. He rests his weight on his elbows, minding not to press anymore against you.

The headlights are bright enough to blind anyone who comes within 50 feet, but all you can see is the direction they turn in. And they’re getting closer.

“What if it’s someone we know?”, you whisper into the echo of your breathing. He looks down at you, and you see it. Fear.

Shifting his weight onto his hands, Bob lifts his head just enough to see through the passenger window. He sighs. Throat bobbing when he swallows. Where your mouth was just exploring. 

Jesus, how stupid are you? Why did you think it was ok to have a makeout session in a car like a teenager?

Well, you never actually did that as a teenager. But this makes you feel like one who’s out way past curfew with a boy her parents disapprove of.

“I don’t think we know them”, he whispers, ducking his head out of view.

You’re able to take a breath at that. Bob relaxes, head dropping to your shoulder to catch his own.

“What are they doing?”

“I don’t know, probably scoping out a makeout spot”, you hit him lightly on the shoulder and he shakes above you. You both stop and listen, just waiting to see if they get any closer.

“I’m sorry”, you have the urge to tell him after a minute.

“What’re you sorry for?”, he lifts his head.

“I got a little carried away.”

“We were having fun weren’t we?”, he asks through a laugh and you nod at him. “Just kinda forgot where we were.” Your smile falls.

“We have to be more careful.”

“I know”, he searches your eyes, “To be fair I had no ulterior motives when I parked here.” You know he didn’t. Technically you were the one to make the first move, which is something you never did with douchebag. He initiated everything, but with Bob it’s just different. You want him in a way you’ve never wanted someone before. And sometimes it makes it hard to hold back. Because you don’t just want his body. You want to talk to him, spend time with him. You want him as a whole.

You didn’t even catch yourself staring.

“Ok, I think they’re leaving.” He looks back at you and stops. “What?”, he asks with a twinge of a smile. And if you didn’t already feel like a teenager right now, the grin on his face makes you smitten like one. That and the fact that you can still feel how hard he is through his jeans. 

“Nothing”, you smile as your hand cards through his hair, “Thanks for taking me out here.”

“I’d say anytime, but I think next time we should find some place a little more private.”

“No, but seriously”, you stop him, “Thank you.” He searches your eyes and comes back with something you can’t place. Maybe he understands that it’s more than just taking you out here. That you’re thanking him for more than you can ever repay. But you start with pushing his glasses back up his nose because he’s too busy looking at you to notice they’ve been slowly sliding down.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Just lowers himself and presses his lips against yours one last time.

His head pops up, much like a groundhog’s would, before he slides off your body, leaving you cold in his wake. You watch as he shifts gears and- Jesus. When did his hands get so veiny? You remain in your laid-back position as he starts the truck up and peels out of the parking lot. His hand falls to your calf and you unabashedly check out the veins that trace up his forearms. God damn it Bob, it makes it hard to cool down when you know those hands were all over you just a few minutes ago.

Only when you round the corner do you sit back up, feeling a little safer to show your face. That was cutting it close. But at the same time you can’t find yourself caring. Things felt normal for a second. You were back in your Bob bubble. And even when something manages to pop it, he keeps you close enough so the fall doesn’t hurt.

His truck slows down in front of your house, and you turn to say goodbye. His face is still flushed, despite the fact that he rolled the windows down on the way over. 

“What is it then?”, he asks out of nowhere.

“What’s what?”, you ask confused.

“Your favorite color?”, it’s a broad question, one that’s never left you feeling quite this elated to answer before. Because this time your answer is staring right back at you.

“Blue”, you respond.

-----------------------

Monday back at work is more or less the same as the past week. Everyone of you is putting in your flight hours as you run over maneuvers before getting in the air.

No matter what kind of breeze is blowing in with the San Diego tides, it does nothing to cool you as you make your way back to the tarmac.

You were nervous walking in this morning. Phoenix must have threatened them with some less than kind words, or else you’re sure Hangman would have said something already. He might have given you a brief glance, but nothing else. He didn’t linger.

You asked her what happened after you left and she just shrugged.

“I feel kinda bad, but I pointed the Lieutenant in the direction of someone who was looking for a uniform to have some fun with. I had to drive Fanboy home after, and he almost threw up in my car, but we didn’t see Lieutenant Douchebag again.” So thanks to Nat, no one bothers you about it.

But then there’s Rooster. You’re not sure what happened with him after you left with Bob Friday night, but he’s having a hard time looking away. It’s not pointed at you per say. It feels almost like he keeps zoning out, but right at you. And when you feel his eyes on your face, he looks away when you turn.

You shake it off when you feel him staring as you settle yourself in your jet, in the classroom as you flip through the pages of your manual, and at your lunch table when Bob’s knee knocks into yours.

He doesn’t even look away from Fanboy when he does it. Just checking in. You knock him right back.

You did end up falling asleep on Bob while National Treasure played in the background Saturday afternoon. After what happened the previous night you didn’t get much sleep. Between Tyler, your little makeout sesh in Bob’s truck, and then the gnawing at the back of your head reminding you about your nightmare, you had plenty of material to keep you awake.

It was a lazy Saturday. What you both needed. Sleeping, actually sleeping, with Bob wasn’t something new to you, but a Saturday nap with you on his chest was something to behold. His slender figure might be unassuming, but it was possibly the best sleep you’ve had in the middle of the day. Actually, it might have been the best sleep you’ve ever had. Period.

And he had you home before too late. Or before someone asked why you were with Bob all day long. You did tell your dad you were out shopping with a couple friends. When he asked what you got, you pulled out a couple pieces you’re sure you’ve worn before but he believed he was seeing for the first time.

You tried not to let your cheeks heat up when he asked what else you got up to. Memories of Bob kissing you lazily, glasses forgotten on the coffee table, and his hands tracing up and down your back come to mind. 

“Not much else”, you had told him. He believed it, and moved on. Because why would he have any reason not to?

It’s not that you don’t feel guilty, because you do. You’re just not sure he would understand. You’re not lying to him because you’re ashamed or embarrassed, it’s because you want to keep this one good thing you have. It’s not like when you were young and hiding something because it hurt, you’re hiding it because it’s good. It doesn’t weigh you down, it lifts you up and it’s not anybody’s business but yours and Bob’s.

So by Wednesday when in any other instance you’d have huffed and puffed about all the pushups you’ve had to do, you get down to business. Hands sweaty on the tarmac as Hondo counts you and Rooster off. Fritz had gotten the better of him, Payback and Fanboy you.

Staring ahead, you watch as Phoenix and Bob get ready to head out. She stops before you, crouching as you go up and down. Giving you a great view of her groin.

“Be careful when you go back in there”, she warns you, “Mav and Cyclone are both watching and listening.”

“Thank you Nat’s crotch”, you sputter between breaths. Her and Bob walk off, laughter trailing after them, but you’re still wondering why Cyclone is bothering to watch. Surely he’s got better things to do than supervising your squadron.

It’s getting harder and harder not to kiss Bob hello or goodbye when he picks you up and drops you off. Your car is still being taken care of because of the extent of the damage, and even if it’s tough to not have your own car, you’re not heartbroken that he’s still driving you around. You almost invited him in that afternoon since your dad was staying late. But you thought better of it.

-----------------------

You walk up on Bob and Phoenix finishing with their pushups when you head up with Coyote. Glancing a last look at the tarmac, you watch as Cyclone approaches Hondo. Arms folded across his chest, sunglasses perched on his nose.

He’s been in and out of the classroom since yesterday. Exchanging quiet words with Mav, and occasionally Warlock. Mouth flat, eyes flicking over his shoulder every once in a while. Your dad hasn’t said anything. Not that you’d had any chance to ask him. He’s been staying later and later lately. Eyes tired when he walks in the door, a smile trying to cover it up. It never works.

Coyote’s jet roars to life, soaring in front of you and pulling you out of whatever conspiracy you might have been threading.

-----------------------

Descending your ladder, you watch as Coyote drops to the tarmac next to his jet to start his pushups. Serves him right for thinking he’d get the jump on you.

You’re wiping the sweat from your forehead as you notice Hondo walk over to Coyote, motioning for him to stand up.

“Hey, what’s going on?”. Coyote's furrowed brow mirrors your own as you rest your helmet on your hip.

“Mav wants everyone to report back to the classroom”, Hondo explains with a brooding expression.

“What?”, you laugh, “I beat him fair and square!”

“Don’t worry Mantis, next time when I win we’ll even it out so neither of us will have to do any”, Coyote jokes.

“Like I’d let you get the chance”, you mutter. He playfully scowls at you while Hondo remains with his hands behind his back.

“I don’t think there’ll be anymore pushups anytime soon”, Hondo interrupts as he ushers the two of you back to the building. You share a confused look with Coyote as you head inside.

Everyone’s back in their seats as you give Bob a questioning glance. He shrugs his shoulders, saying I know as much as you do. Right as you and Coyote sit down, everyone shifts to sit straighter in their seats as Cyclone stands at the podium, leaving Mav behind him.

“As you all know”, he starts, “for the past two weeks you’ve been tasked with practicing basic maneuvers, evasion, and endurance.” You shift in your seat, the sweat on the back of your neck dripping below your collar.

“What you don’t know is that this has been preliminary training for something much bigger. Starting tomorrow, you will be training for six weeks to take part in a mission you will learn more about in the following days.” Your lungs tighten, hands turning clammy at the new information.

“We can’t be putting energy into anything other than the tasks at hand. Which is why we will be putting an end to any bets involving physical activity of any kind”, his eyes flit over his shoulder at Mav. Your dad’s jaw clenches as he stares out the window. He can’t stand to look any of you in the eye.

And then it hits you.

The mission he told you about a few weeks ago. The mission Cyclone was keeping you in mind for.

“This isn’t going to be easy, which is why this squadron was selected. You have the best chance of successfully completing this mission and coming home. So keep your head down”, his eyes flick to you, “Put in the work, focus on the mission, and you won’t have anything to worry about.” You meet his gaze and then follow back to Mav who’s already looking at you. There’s no playfulness in the way he stares. All you can see is remorse. A man who’s sorry for what you’re about to go through.

-----------------------

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