Bob Floyd X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

els-marvelvsp

9 months ago

AHHH!! THIS IS AMAZING!!

Why Me? - Part 11

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick

Word Count: 12k

Summary: You're still reeling after what happened with Bob, but it all comes crashing down to reality when you go to work the next day. As you reminisce on memories you thought were lost, you make a move you know you should have made a long time ago. Things come to a head with Rooster once more, and you find yourself grieving for something you never had.

A/N: Well hellooo beautiful people!! I apologize for being gone so long, writers block had me in a chokehold and... yeah. But I'm back and I hope you enjoy! I'm not making any promises, but hopefully the next part will be out MUCH sooner than this one was.

p.s. I love every single one of you and comments and reblogs keep me going. That is all.

Masterlist

21 years ago

“Bug!”, Carole yells up the stairs, “We gotta meet your dad and Bradley at the school, we’re gonna be late!” It was only your first week of being back with your dad and the Bradshaw’s for the summer, but it was a busy one at that. Bradley was still finishing up his last week of school while yours got out two weeks ago. And while your dad just got home from a 6-month deployment three days ago, Carole and Bradley were more than happy to make the weekend trip up to Ohio to come get you before he came back.

“Bug!”, she yells one more time with no response. Breathing out a sigh, she ascends the stairs and knocks on your door. “Are you almost ready sweetheart? We’re gonna be late for Bradley’s piano recital” Using two hands to open the door, you stand before her in the frilly yellow sundress the two of you bought while shopping the previous day. “Well don’t you look pretty! Are you all ready to go?” She watches as you shift your mouth to the side of your face. Bending to your level, she moves to push some of your hair behind your ear.

“What’s a matter?” You shrug and look into her big blue eyes. She hums in question as she looks you over. Your lip wobbles as you reach to touch the necklace around her neck, admiring it with gentle fingers. They trace over the silver butterfly pendant hanging just below her collar bone. Something was wrong this time around. You were… different from the little girl she said goodbye to last August. More timid, almost frightened to do anything you would deem as wrong. You weren’t even like this when you spent your winter break with them. It might have been the excitement of the impending holiday that kept her from noticing, but something changed since then.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into her arms when you first saw her for the summer, but the way you clutched onto her shirt and wouldn’t let go, so hard to the point that she had to carry you to the car, she knew something was wrong. And now, you’ve been so quiet. So unlike what she’s used to when you’re with Bradley, or just in her presence for that matter. When she got you all buckled in and on the road, it took less than 20 minutes for you to be knocked out completely, like you were finally able to let your guard down and sleep.

“I missed you and daddy. And Bradley.” Her heart breaks as she watches you sniffle. As you let go of the necklace, she reaches forward and effortlessly wraps you in a hug.

“Oh bug, we missed you, too. So much.” Her hand rubs circles up and down your back as she comforts you. “But we’ll get this whole summer together, and we’re gonna have so much fun. Right?” She moves back to watch you nod your head and rub a small fist over your cheek. Instinctively her hands move to replace your own, swiping your tears away with her thumbs.

Your eyes move back to the necklace and she follows your gaze. Without a second thought, her hands move behind her neck, unclasping it as she holds it in her fingers for you to look at.

“Did I ever tell you where I got this necklace from?” Shaking your head, you sniffle once more. “You know how I told you about your uncle Goose? Bradley’s daddy?” You nod as you trace your fingers along the chain. “Well, on our first date we went to a movie, then walked around in this big mall, kinda like the one we went to. We passed a jewelry store, and this necklace was in the window. I stopped to look at it and I told him how pretty I thought it was.” She pauses for one second before lightly pushing on your shoulders to turn you around.

“We went on a few more dates after that. And then-”, the necklace falls into your view as her hands come up to clasp it around your neck, “He finally asked me to be his girlfriend. I asked what took him so long, and he told me he was so nervous I would say no. Isn’t that so silly?” You giggle as she turns to have you look at her once more. “I of course said yes, and then that goof, he reached into his back pocket and gave me a little bag. And inside of it was this necklace.” She pokes the spot where the butterfly sits on your chest, hanging a little longer on your small body than on hers. “In that moment I realized two things. First, was that he bought the necklace still thinking I would say no. And knowing him he would have given it to me either way. And second, was that I was pretty darn sure I was gonna marry him.”

“Do you miss him?” your tiny voice asks as she looks up from the necklace back to your innocent eyes.

“Everyday. I used to wear this necklace to remind me of him, or look at my wedding ring that he picked out all by himself. But I realized I can just look over to Bradley and know there’s still a little piece of him with me everywhere I go.” Her eyes fill with unshed tears, not unlike most times when she thinks about her husband, but she smiles through it like she always does. Her hand smooths over your head as she looks at you wearing her necklace.

“Oh he would have absolutely adored you.” She clears her throat once before changing subjects, “Now whenever you look at this necklace I want you to remember that me, Bradley, and your Daddy are always with you, ok? No matter what.”

“I can keep it?”

“Of course!”, she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world she’s gifting you something that means so much to her. “But you have to promise me one other thing, ok?”

“What?”, you whisper.

“I want you to be brave like your uncle Goose. Because even though he was scared, he asked me anyway. And if he were here, he would tell you it was so worth it. So bug, do you think you can be brave for me?” You silently nod your head at her words, hair falling in your face as you do so. She doesn’t need to push it back for you as you do it yourself this time in order to look at her with your head held high.

“Good”, she whispers with a smile. It falls slightly as she asks you, “Is there anything you wanna tell me?” She holds her breath as you nod.

“Does Bradley practice piano a lot?” She stifles a laugh as her brows furrow.

“All the time, why do you ask?”

“Last time he was playing he wasn’t very good.” Hiding her face, she takes both of your hands in hers, rubbing your fingers.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s gotten a lot better since then. And even if he didn’t, we’d still be front row cheering him on, right?”

“Right”, you say with a big nod.

“Speaking of, we’re gonna be late!” She squeezes your hand as the two of you bound down the stairs and into her car.

“Was uncle Goose good at piano?”

“Oh he was so good at piano.”

“I hope Bradley is, too.” She laughs as she buckles you in the back seat.

“If he’s anything like his daddy he’ll be great. He’ll look like a wild bird doing it, but he’ll be just fine.”

-----------------------

Present Day

Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you he’d be waiting until you got home. Opening the door, you’re presented with the back of his head as he watches an old rerun of M.A.S.H. The door clicks as you lock it, and he turns off the t.v. at the sound. You give him a slight smile as he rounds the couch. Even though you drove the entire ten minutes back to your house with all the windows down and the AC on full blast, you can still feel a flush taking hold of your cheeks.

“How was dinner at Marcello’s?”, he asks as he folds his arms across his chest, yawning. You search your brain for what the hell he’s talking about until you remember what you told him you were doing.

“Oh yeah, it was good. Sorry it took so long, we started catching up and I didn’t realize what time it was”, you attempt to step past him.

“Who were you seeing again?”

“Just a friend from high school, she was in the area on a work trip”, you lie. It was easier this way. If you told him you were going to Bob’s he might ask questions about him, and it could lead to more invasive things you didn’t want to answer. Making something up completely different was easier than lying about Bob at all. Your dad hums at your answer, and you think he can almost see through you.

“Rooster was there on a date. I’m surprised you didn’t run into him.”

“It was packed for a Wednesday night. And since when does he tell you about his dating life?”

“Oh I don’t know. He called to let me know he had a box of my old things and we just got to talking. You might actually know her, he said she was a friend of Phoenix’s girl.” You stop at the bottom of the stairs, and you can almost feel your eye start to twitch as you slowly turn around. “For the life of me I can’t remember her name.”

“Does it happen to be Emily?” He snaps his fingers as he starts readjusting the coffee table and turning lights off.

“That’s it. You know her?”

“Oh”, you scoff, “Yeah I know her. Rooster knows her very well, actually.” He stops what he’s doing and turns to you.

“What does that mean- You know what? I don’t wanna know”, he decides as he walks over to you, placing a kiss at the top of your head. “Goodnight kiddo”, he says with a yawn. He walks down the hall to his own room, while you remain at the bottom of the steps.

“What an asshole”, you mutter under your breath. For a moment, you aren’t thinking about what just happened with Bob, you’re thinking about just how rude both Rooster and Emily were to him only a week ago. And after Rooster’s “apology”, he is now going on a date with the woman who had the audacity to laugh in Bob’s face? Typical.

-----------------------

You hardly sleep at all that night. Worried that you might wake up from another dream. Or not wake up at all and be trapped. These are paranoid thoughts, you know that. But all the same, your body will not allow you to relax for more than an hour. It isn’t until you’re sure you’ve fallen asleep for at least 20 minutes that your alarm startles you awake.

Groaning, you get up and head to your bathroom. You can already hear your dad starting his morning routine from his room below yours, and you focus on the noise to distract yourself from what you have to walk into today. Not only do you try and fail to forget how Bob’s hands felt, or how rushed he was just to kiss you, the worst part is that you don’t want to forget. You don’t want to pretend like nothing happened. You want to walk up to him and give him a kiss, ask him how the rest of his night was, if he wants to go see a movie with you on Saturday. But no. You learned from a very young age that getting what you want wasn’t really written in the stars.

However, pulling your hair back into a tight bun, you remember that you do have something that you want. You had to sacrifice a lot for it, but you got it in the end. The career you’ve always wanted, what you knew you were meant for deep down. Your eyes flicker from your hands as they deftly work to make sure not a hair is out of place, and then back to your face. Your hands stop as you stare at the slope of your nose, the shape and color of your eyes, anything that you think reminds everyone else of her.

You shake your head and get back to the task at hand. Once you’re finished, you eye strictly your hair in the mirror to make sure it’s up to standard, and your eye catches on your phone at the edge of the counter. You begin to chew your lip before unlocking it and searching through your contacts. Under Avila Clinic, your finger hovers.

Contrary to what Penny might have thought, you did have a therapist once upon a time. After your first few nightmares at the Academy, and with the support of Phoenix, you started therapy. Your therapist, Mary, was extremely helpful and understanding. You went to her for years while at school, but then deployments started happening and you got distracted. Life started to finally make sense, and your dreams were few and far between. Eventually they stopped happening altogether, and your naive brain thought that meant they were gone for good. Her practice is on the other coast, but you know it’s going to take a while for a new therapist to get your entire backstory to try and help you. You need someone who already knows, possesses the knowledge on how to help you. Someone you are already comfortable with sharing your feelings with.

A knock comes from your door taking you out of your thoughts.

“You almost ready to go?”, your dad asks from the hall. Your stomach flips at the thought of having to go to work, even if you do love it. Things have been… complicated recently. And even if you did pretend nothing happened already, you have a gut feeling it’s gonna be a lot harder than it was at the beginning of the week.

“Yeah”, you respond, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

-----------------------

Your father is none the wiser as you walk onto base. Your heart is beating so fast you’re worried he might be able to hear the echo against your chest. While he heads to his office to gather what he needs for the day, you set your things in the locker room. You know he’s going to be in there when you walk in the room. Like he always is. Because he’s always so prepared. Groaning, you shut the metal door to your locker and rest your forehead on the cool surface.

“Everything ok Mantis?”, Phoenix’s voice sounds from beside you.

“Oh everything is fine and dandy.” Her locker closes as she moves you by your shoulders, leading you out of the room and to your anxiety-induced nightmare.

“Ok weirdo. You gonna tell me what’s really on your mind?” She doesn’t stop as she marches you through the classroom where Bob is patiently waiting in his seat. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment before the influx of the rest of the group forces you to move toward your seat.

“Maybe later”, you whisper to her as she sits. Your gut twists as you try and fail to not stare at the back of Bob’s head. Just last night your fingers were running through that same hair, and now you have to pretend like you don’t know what his body feels like against your own. Those thoughts are extinguished rather quickly as Rooster sits next to you. Your body goes rigid as you remember what else your dad told you last night. How dare he? After everything he’s already put you through, he’s so blatantly blind when it comes to other people’s feelings. He must feel your energy or the fact that you keep glaring at him through the corner of your eye. So when he looks up and gives you a small smile, you reciprocate. You’ve learned your lesson on confronting people at work, and if you want to fly on this next mission, you’re gonna be on your best behavior.

You are nothing if not professional in the air. You’re paired up with Phoenix and Bob on your first hop of the day, and if you were an outsider you wouldn’t even know there was something else going on. The three of you successfully pull off each paired maneuver your dad assigned with perfect communication. The entire time you were focused on flying, but Bob’s deep voice through the comm system didn’t help. It was extremely difficult to focus on what he was saying, not how he was saying it, but you did it anyway.

When lunch comes around you walk into the mess hall and sigh. There are two options you’re weighing as you stand near the doorway, clutching your lunch bag in hand. Your “regular” seat sits empty next to Bob and Rooster is still sitting by himself in the corner. On one hand you could pretend everything was fine and sit next to Bob, or you could pretend you’re not mad at Rooster and sit next to him. Rolling your eyes they land back on Bob’s table where Phoenix is now sat across from him. Your hands sweat as you hold your lunch, eyeing the way Bob’s hands wipe the crumbs of chip dust off onto a napkin. Taking a breath, you allow yourself to be sad for a second.

Bob is quite literally the most perfect man you have ever met. He’s kind, thoughtful, and funny. Not to mention damn handsome and from your experience the best kisser. Your heart aches at the thought that he deserves to hear all this praise. He told you some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you, and what did you do in return? When given the chance to tell him how you felt you reached for the logical side of your brain and refused to. In another life, you tell yourself. If you weren’t restricted by these stupid rules, if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. But here you still stand in the company of no one but yourself.

His head turns suddenly and you’re met with his eyes as he gives you the slightest smile. An invitation to take a seat at his side. But you swallow and tear your eyes away. They land on Rooster instead who is already looking at you, then at Bob. It’s too much as you breathe and choose the secret third option. Turning on your heel, you head toward your dad’s office.

Knocking on the cracked door before entering, your dad welcomes you with a surprised smile. His brow furrows slightly as you take a seat across from him at his desk, but he doesn’t say anything as you start to eat with him. Even just asking him how his day is going, you catch the smile on his face as he looks across to you, and then back down to his desk. You can’t see what he’s looking at, but whatever it is keeps him content until his phone rings.

He quickly apologizes like you were in the middle of a very important business meeting before answering with a, “Hey honey”. And you know it’s Penny on the other end. Smiling, he holds up a finger, telling you he’ll be back in a minute as you watch him leave his office. You turn back to his desk and only see the backs of what look to be a few picture frames littering the top. Funny. You don’t think you saw these when you helped him move his stuff in here a couple months ago. That being said, you haven’t been in here very often.

Turning back to the door, your dad’s voice faintly echoes down the hall with a laugh, and knowing you have a few minutes, you take a seat in his chair. Your eyes roam over his desk, his aviators sit in front of a Navy mug.There’s a few small models of previous jets he’s flown, you take note of the F-14 Tomcat, sitting right in front of a picture of him and Goose. Smiling at the frame of your and Bradley’s dads, your eyes trace to the others. A more recent picture of you at your Top Gun graduation, Iceman and your father flanking your sides as you triumphantly hold the trophy sits next to one of 7-year old you with Bradley at his piano recital. He was a lot better than you gave him credit for that day, and now you know all that hard work paid off. He can practically play any song you ask him to, and he makes use of that talent whenever he can at the Hard Deck. Penny even joked she should put a tip jar out for him.

There’s another picture of the two of them someone must have taken on the carrier right after their triumphant return during the Uranium Mission. Everyone is cheering in the background, and you even have a smile on your face. But you don’t remember feeling happy. You were relieved, of course. But it still doesn’t erase the hour of agony thinking they were dead. You move on to the next picture of yourself in a dirtied softball uniform, clinging on to Bradley’s back like a monkey as he walks you to the car after a long summer tournament. Your feet hurt so bad Bradley had offered to give you a piggy-back ride if you shared your popsicle with him. The red juices melted down your arm and onto his shirt, but he didn’t complain once.

The last picture is of Goose, Carole, and a tiny Bradley. You smile fondly as you pick up the frame and watch their smiling faces. Your dad told you once that it was one of the last pictures of them all together. God, Bradley looks so much like his dad. Your finger absentmindedly traces where Carole stands, and stops at the silver chain around her neck. A small butterfly pendant sits between her collarbones and a wave of guilt washes over you.

You weren’t brave like you promised her. At least you thought you weren’t. You held on to that necklace for the few years that you had it, but ultimately when Carole got sick, you couldn’t bear it anymore. She slept a lot toward the end, the medication making her tired. One night, you crept into her bathroom and put the necklace back in her jewelry box hoping she wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t say anything to you. She never brought it up, so you assumed it was one of the two. But looking at it now you wish you would have kept it. Kept that little piece of her she so generously gave to you. Maybe that little reminder would have made it easier to keep going after her and Bradley left.

Placing the frame back in its place, you chew your lip. You grab your phone and before you can decide not to, you press the call button. It rings a couple times before someone answers in a cheery voice.

“Avila Clinic, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment.”

-----------------------

Bob sits in silence the entire rest of lunch. He thought maybe you two would be civil toward each other. He also thought that last night meant you cared about him, but right now it doesn’t feel that way. The initial sting of you not sitting next to him today is gone. He gets it. But the fact that you didn’t even acknowledge him when he smiled at you? That hurt.

He’s so conflicted as he walks back to the classroom. Maybe you have your own things going on and this isn’t about him. But how could it not be? You two talked last night. You kissed for crying out loud. You asked him to and pulled him against you. God, he literally begged you to kiss him again and now he’s feeling embarrassed. Something he thought you would never make him feel. What hurts most of all is how he misses just being around you. As much as he loved kissing you, he loved being your friend. Listening to you talk, learning about your life. Everything was so easy. You never even had to try to make him like you, it was as simple as breathing.

He decides he can’t take any of this personally. Easier said than done, though.

You don’t look in his direction the rest of the day. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head, but if you were looking at him he’s pretty positive he would have felt it. In fact, you’re pretty quiet, too. He’s hardly paying attention as Mav goes over everyone’s flights, but perks up when he mentions your name.

“Alright, Phoenix, Bob, and Mantis.” Your flights are brought up on the screen as well as what maneuvers you were practicing together. “Or as I like to call you guys; The Dream Team.” Phoenix breathes out a laugh to his left as Mav continues to praise you for your team work. Kind of ironic that you work so well as a team together even though he feels like he’s had not only his body, but his head in the clouds all day.

“So you three, give yourselves a pat on the back. Great job.” Phoenix turns to him first to give him a fist bump, then turns over to you. He turns with her and finally catches your eye as your smirk falters. He watches you clench your fist before offering it toward him, and with a forced smile his knuckles tap your own. There was no celebration to be had when all it does is create more awkward tension between the two of you. He used to relish in these little moments the two of you shared, but now knowing that you want absolutely nothing to do with him it only serves as a reminder for what he lost.

-----------------------

You’re quiet again as you head home with your dad. Guilt is eating you alive at the way Bob smiled at you today. It’s not real anymore. Nothing about it is genuine, and why would it be? You continue to create situations in which someone’s heart is going to get broken, and it always ends up being your own. This time there’s another casualty and you can’t stand it being Bob. He deserves so much more than that.

Your father is humming along to the radio while you stare out the window when your phone buzzes. AVILA CLINIC flashes on your screen and you’re quick to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Tiffany from the Avila Clinic, am I speaking to Miss Mitchell?” The same cheery woman from earlier asks.

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi Miss Mitchell. We spoke earlier about setting up an appointment a couple weeks from now on the fourth of October, but your therapist Mary had a sudden cancellation for tomorrow. I know you said you wanted to get in as soon as possible, does tomorrow at 4:00 pm Pacific Time work for you?”

“Yes”, you’re quick to agree, “Yes, that absolutely works for me.”

“Perfect. We’ll email you a Zoom link thirty minutes before your appointment.”

“Sounds great, thank you so much.” Hanging up the phone, your dad clears his throat, expectantly waiting for an explanation as to who that was.

“I have a zoom meeting at 4:00 tomorrow.” His brow raises as he urges you to continue. “It’s a therapy appointment-”, you try to ignore the way both his brows raise at the admission, “And it’s at the house, so I would really appreciate it if, ya know….”

“I get it, I get it”, he waves you off, “I’ll make myself scarce.” A weight is lifted from your chest as he continues driving. You know how men of his generation view therapy, but he himself has benefited from those services over the course of his life. In your own opinion you think he could benefit from some more, but, you really don’t think he’ll go for it unless he’s doing it for someone else.

“Thanks, dad.”

-----------------------

You didn’t expect it. You thought you were safe. Especially after last night of nothing, you went to bed naively thinking you could have a peaceful night’s sleep. Awaking with a choked gasp, you reach for your throat begging it to open up. Breath after breath gets a little easier, until the tears start and you just can’t stop. The dark does little to ease your racing mind.

It started normally, just a hazy dream of you walking down the street back in Ohio, stopping at a storefront and staring in the window. Your reflection is what set you off. It was you at first, you were able to identify little features that were your own, but then- It turned into her completely. You ran as fast as your feet would let you, but the only destination was your old house. Still, you tried to get as far away from her as possible, you couldn’t see her, but you could feel her not far behind you. Running up the stairs, you booked it to your room and slammed the door shut, holding your body against it so she couldn’t get in. She banged and screamed as hard and as loud as she could until it finally… stopped. It was silent as tears streamed down your face. Giving you a false sense of security, you stepped away from the door.

Holding your breath, you made it three steps away before the door flung itself open. You were already walking backwards when she pushed you into the wall, and head first you hit it. You must have started choking on your own tears in real time, and you imagine the lack of air is what caused you to wake up.

Even as you sit up in bed now, the thought that it was only a dream does nothing to reassure you. The room is too hot, and instead of making the same mistake of running to your bathroom, you tiptoe down the hall so as to not alert your father, and sit on the back porch. The cool September breeze blows over your sweat slicken skin as you breathe in… and out. In… and out. You’re still sobbing as quietly as you can, and you know it was a dream. Just a dream- this time.

You don’t tell your dad exactly what happened, but he knows. He was surprised to see you outside when he got up this morning, but you just told him you couldn’t get back to sleep so you sat out to see the sunrise. It was when he tried resting his hand on your shoulder and you flinched away that he knew you left some details out. Without him having to say a word, he gave you a look and you reassured him you were fine. You knew you weren’t, really. But the only thing keeping you going was the idea of getting up in the air, and the fact that you had therapy later today.

-----------------------

For the first time in a very long time, Bob wasn’t looking forward to going to work this morning. He felt like a kid dreading going to school again. But, he forced himself anyway, and now as he walks the halls, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face another day where you completely ignore him. This isn’t the best way to deal with… whatever happened between you two, you must know that. Right? In the end no matter what you told him he was still going to be your friend, but you’re giving him the idea that you don’t want that.

He’s surprised to find you already in the classroom, your pen tapping at the sheet of maneuvers in front of you. No one else is there but the two of you, and he takes a minute to breathe in the silence that settles. Your mouth is twisted, you keep switching from chewing one side of your lip to the other. Your brow is furrowed to the point that there’s a sharp knot in your forehead. Whatever you’re looking at can’t possibly be that perplexing. You could fly each of these tasks with your eyes closed, and yet you look deep in thought. He opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward at the same time, but a hand claps down on his shoulder as he does.

“Morning, Bob, Mantis”, Phoenix greets the two of you. You hum in acknowledgement but your eyes never leave your paper. Bob watches as she taps your knee with her hand. You quite literally jump at the movement, dropping your pen in the process as it rolls under his seat. “Hey, you ok there?”

“Yeah, sorry”, you rush out as your hand trembles. Bob can hear Phoenix ask if you’re sure, while he kneels on the floor to retrieve your pen. When he gets up, he’s still on his knees holding your pen out to you. Your hollow eyes look back at him as the two of you freeze, sharing a moment that feels stuck in time. A shaky hand extends to grab your pen from him, and it takes everything in him not to reach further and squeeze your hand. Letting you know he’s there.

“Thank you”, you practically whisper.

“Any time”, he responds just as softly. The rest of the squad enters the room as you tear your eyes away from his and look back to your papers. He watches as you continue what you were working on when he entered, but instead of your pen, your foot taps the floor.

You walk away too quickly once Maverick assigns you to the first flight of the day, but Bob knows something’s wrong. So he waits until it’s his and Phoenix’s turn, hoping to catch you out on the tarmac as you land, but you’re still in your cockpit as they walk past. He slows, feigning a loose shoelace as he urges Phoenix to keep going.

-----------------------

Your flight had done well to get your mind off of last night, but it’s still with a deep breath that you grip the ladder as you descend. Helmet in hand, you turn to make your way back inside and grab a needed drink of water.

“Mantis?” Bob's gentle voice has you looking up at him.

“Hi- Bob”, you respond, a little taken aback he was waiting for you. He keeps his distance as Fritz and Hangman walk past the two of you.

“Are you- are you doing ok?”

“Yeah”, you clear your throat, “I’m doing ok.” It feels like his sapphire eyes can see right through you as you shift on your feet. You can lie all you want, but you know he can tell. It’s his turn to shift on his feet as he blinks rapidly before realizing what he needs to say.

“I know it might be hard, but you can still talk-”

“Bob!”, Phoenix yells from her ladder, “It’s go time!” Lost in his train of thought, He struggles to find the words as he clenches his helmet in his hand.

“Bob, I’m ok.” He’s hesitant as Phoenix yells his name again, pointing at her watch this time.

“If you say so”, he nods as you stare at your feet. With one last look at your shifting eyes, he jogs over to Phoenix who is beginning to grow even more impatient. You watch him climb into his seat before trudging back to the hangar where Rooster waits at the door.

“Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” You roll your eyes as he walks behind you. He still doesn’t know that you know about his little date Wednesday night. You continue to bite your tongue as you sit across from him in the ready-room.

-----------------------

After another lunch-date with your dad in his office, you do your best to avoid both Rooster and Bob. And thank goodness all of you are being let out early today, or you wouldn’t be able to sit through another hour of going over everyone else’s flights.

“Alright, that’s everything I have for today. Depending on weather conditions on Monday, we may not have you come in, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay safe this weekend everyone.” Checking your watch, it reads 3:00, only an hour before your session which leaves you a little anxious. But after last night you are more than ready to get the help you need.

You’re out of the class room before everybody else, and soon enough gathering your stuff from your locker. Phoenix stops you before you can get out the door and to your dad’s office to wait for him.

“Hey! Floyd was looking for you.” You try your best to not look surprised at the notion, but you can feel your face contort in confusion.

“Oh, is he-”, you motion to the door of the locker room, asking if he’s waiting for you outside.

“No, he had to go. But”, reaching into her pocket, she grabs something and holds it out for you, “He did tell me to give you this.” And in between her fingers, Phoenix holds a penny. The sight of an object so abundantly common as a coin has you holding your breath. You have seen so many pennies throughout your life, but who this one came from means so much more to you than any other has. Swallowing, you reach out and gingerly take it from her hands, as if it would break if you dropped it. Strangely, you can feel your face heat up at the notion. That’s what he was trying to tell you earlier. He’s still ready and willing to listen if you need to talk.

“Is this some kind of weird inside joke between the two of you or did he really just owe you one cent?” You grip the copper coin as if it were his own hand reaching out to you, and place it in your pocket.

“No”, you laugh, “it’s just something Bob does.” Her brow raises as she stares at you with a weary eye. Obviously not understanding what’s so funny about it.

-----------------------

As if you couldn’t be more anxious for this zoom, your dad was held up by both Cyclone and Warlock when you got to his office. There’s only 20 minutes before your meeting when you get home, so unlike what you had planned you can’t take a shower beforehand. Still needing to change out of your flight suit, you put on a random shirt and jeans that were lying around your cluttered room. You glance at your own watch, 3:55. Before you forget, you run downstairs to find your dad putting his tennis shoes on.

“Hey”, you grab his attention as he looks up from the couch, “I just thought I’d let you know my meeting’s about to start in like five minutes so…”

“Don’t even worry about me”, he reassures you, “I’ll be outside doing yard work the entire time. Might as well do it now before I can’t do it this weekend.” Smiling, he gets up with his sneakers on and gives you a wink before shutting the front door behind him.

Popping your earbuds in, you open your laptop. Your palms are sweating as you click on the link in your email. A blank screen pops up with a small wheel telling you it’s loading, and then you see her. Mary. Your first and only therapist. The first person you ever told your deep dark secrets to. Bob being the second and only other. She speaks your name softly as you smile at the warmness in her tone. It takes you back to when you were only a student, having no idea how to traverse the world without the proper support.

“It’s good to see you”, her honey voice greets you.

“It’s good to see you, too”, you nod. You notice that even through the camera, she’s letting her gray hair take over what was mostly a thick and lucious black when you first met her. There’s a few more crinkles around her eyes that you find when she smiles at you, but it’s still like greeting an old friend.

“So how’s it going, how have you been?”

“Um”, you laugh awkwardly, “Things could be better.”

“Ok, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you reached out.” Breathing out a shaky breath you start talking. You tell her about the dreams returning, the panic attacks, how you didn’t know where you were when you were gone for hours. She takes diligent notes the entire time, nodding and assuring you she’s listening.

“So let me ask you a question; do you know what triggered these nightmares? Did something happen?” You think back to the night you kissed Bob and before you can even get butterflies, the image of your mother in your dream pops the bubble. Taking a leap of faith and a deep breath all in the same beat, you turn back to the camera.

“This is all in confidence, right?” She sighs your name before answering.

“You know it is. Unless what you did put other people or yourself in harm’s way then we are fine to discuss it without me telling anyone.” Taking out one earbud, you can still hear your dad with the lawnmower, so you continue.

“I kissed someone. Twice. It was after the first time that I had a nightmare.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“He’s on my squadron. And there is a pretty strict no fraternization rule.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah. So I broke a rule, made him break a rule. And I guess I just feel so guilty about it. And I did something wrong, which is why I had the dream.”

“And you had the second dream after the second kiss?”

“Not the night of. I didn’t get a lot of sleep because I was scared of it happening again. But last night was the second one. It was…terrifying. I didn’t think they were gonna come back. And I just blew up on everyone the first time around. My dad, Bradley-”

“Wait, Bradley as in, the Bradley that you grew up with?”

“That’s the one.”

“And you just see him regularly now? I mean I was looking through all your old notes and you were still pretty upset with him. Does time really heal all wounds?” You chuckle at her sarcasm.

“No, not really. It was awkward at first. But I hardly talked to him while we were working on the special detachment. After it was over, it looked like he made up with my dad, and we were made a permanent squadron. That’s when it started going downhill. Long story short, we were just kind of bickering, not really talking about the elephant in the room. He ended up saying something, I had a panic attack, then I punched him, then he started-”

“Wait, wait, wait- You punched him? I am going to need the long version of the story here. We don’t do short stories in therapy.” So you explain. Everything. How your little comments started to quickly cut deeper, how he told you to be careful before your drinking contest, and all the little warnings after the fact. And then the devastating moment where he betrayed your trust completely, leading to Bob comforting you at one of your lowest moments. And then of course, when you punched him, and how he’s been trying to get on your good side ever since, how he claims he thought you were calling to brag. As if he didn’t know what your mother was like.

“Wow. That’s a lot.” You nod in agreement. “How has it been with him since?”

“It’s so weird. He’s tried to do a complete 180, and claims he’s watching out for me. He was actually at the party, the one where I kissed- um…”

“You don’t have to say his name, it’s ok.”

“My teammate”, you find the courage to finish.

“This is a lot to process in such a short amount of time. How have you been handling it?” You scoff at just how many times you’ve had panic attacks and cried within the last month.

“Not well. Which is why I thought I should reach out.”

“I’m glad you did. I wish that therapy was a one and done kind of situation, but it’s going to take some time. Are you ready for that kind of commitment again? I know it got busy last time, and with deployments it was hard. But are you ready to put in the work?” You sigh and silently nod your head, biting your lip to avoid speaking with a frog in your throat.

“Well I hate to say this, but I think your dreams may be happening for a different reason than they did way back when they first started.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you came to me such a short time after the abuse stopped.” You try not to flinch at the word, but instinctively shut your eyes when she says it. “ When you stopped seeing her you were scared she was going to come back and find you. Now, I think your brain is reliving some memories to punish yourself. Because you feel guilty. And the fact that you see parts of her in you is making you resent yourself even more. Making you push people away before they can do the same to you.” Huh, you think.

“Does that resonate with you at all?” You laugh because it’s the only thing you can do at the moment. She hit the damn nail on the head.

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“Next time if you have a dream, here’s what I want you to do: I want you to find at least five things about yourself that are completely different from your mom. It can be little things in the way you look, the way you act, or anything. Because you are different. You aren’t her.” Your eyes sting at the influx of tears, and you lean your head back to stop them from falling.

“Ok, I know this was a pretty heavy session, so I want to end it on a higher note. I would like you to tell me at least three people in your life right now that make you feel loved, special, or wanted.” You shake your head, physically trying to put your mentality in a different spot than where it was at with your mother. Reaching for a tissue, you dab the straggling tears that threaten to fall.

“Um- ok. My dad, my friend Natasha”, you list out, still thinking about a third person. You can’t help that the third person your mind is pushing you to say is also the one person you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. But it’s true. He makes you feel special and so wanted it’s kind of overwhelming, “And my friend Bob.”

-----------------------

With a deep breath you close your laptop and take out your ear buds. Your room feels stuffy all of a sudden, like all your thoughts and feelings are trapped into the sealed box. You stride across the room to open your window, and you hear your dad talking to someone. Then the snap of what you only know as a baseball hitting a glove echoes across the house. Unfortunately for your snoopy personality right now, your window faces the side of the neighbors, so you descend the stairs and look through the window in the living room.

The weather is surprisingly warm and sunny for a day before a storm. Perfect weather for spending outside you suppose. Your dad stands at one end of the yard, throwing the ball as you follow the line to the glove worn by, of course, Rooster. All of these old feelings came to life when you had to talk about him and everything else that has been happening for the past hour. When thinking about everyone who makes you feel loved, special, and wanted, Rooster did not make the cut. In fact, he has made you feel unwanted, unloved, and unimportant for the past 10 years. He threw you away like you were nothing, and even if he did apologize, it doesn’t take away the hurt that he left you with. But here he is. Throwing a baseball around with your dad like he didn’t avoid him for the last 16 years.

You huff out a breath before opening the front door, and plastering on a fake smile. If you were going to talk to him now was as good a time as any. You kind of feel bad for him, he had no idea he was walking into when he came over today.

“Hey dad”, you squint through the fading sun as the two men look your way.

“Oh hey kiddo! How was your… meeting?”

“It was good, very”, you turn and squint slightly more at Rooster who tosses the ball up and back into his hand, “enlightening.”

“That’s good. Rooster here just popped over with a box of some old things, and we found our baseball gloves.”

“I can see that. Mind if I have a go?” He tries not to look as surprised as he feels by your request, but starts taking off his glove as you walk over to him.

“Sure.” You take the warm leather glove, slipping it onto your hand as you adjust to the feeling. Slapping the worn palm, you flap it a couple times in Rooster’s direction as he tosses it at you. Not throws. Tosses. Catching it in your bare hand, you raise your brow at him.

“Really?”

“What?”

“You act like we weren’t taught to throw a ball by the same person”, you note as you hook your thumb to your dad standing just to the side. “Throw it like you mean it.” Rolling the ball a couple times in your hand, you grip it and throw the fading white ball straight at Bradley’s chest. He manages to catch it with little time to spare, obviously underestimating just how hard you can throw. He glances over to your dad with wide eyes as he shrugs back with a smile. A hint of pride in his features. Rooster looks back at you while you open and close your glove a couple times.

“You sure you can handle it?” You roll your eyes at his assumption. Either he thinks too highly of his throwing ability, or way too low of your ability to catch a damn ball.

“Yes. I’ve handled a lot worse that you’ve thrown my way, so-”, you flap the glove once more, “try me.”

Rooster winces at the insinuation. But he gives up holding back, not all the way quite yet, but he throws it back with some of the power he was using with your dad. You continue throwing and catching the ball as your dad watches on with a warm smile.

“Alright”, he comments, “Looks like you two are doing fine, so I’m gonna go finish mowing the lawn.” He heads through the gate to the backyard as Rooster gets finished catching your last throw to him. Rooster takes the ball into his hand to throw back, but hesitates before putting it back in his glove.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know”, he responds as if pondering the question himself, “You’ve just got this look in your eye.” He winds up, and you catch the ball as he throws it at your chest. Mirroring his earlier action, you roll the ball around in your palm as you contemplate your next move.

“I’ve always got that look in my eye. If I don’t have it, that means something’s wrong.” You throw it back the tiniest bit harder, but Rooster does well to mask his surprise at the force. He’s still got that hint of suspicion on his face, but otherwise ignores it and is about to throw the ball back before you speak up.

“Oh, there is one thing”, you laugh without any real humor, “How was your date with Emily?” The ball slips from his hand as he attempts to throw it at you, causing it to fly up in the air before landing and rolling to your feet. His mouth opens and closes before he finally decides to say something as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“It was- it was- Where’d you hear about that?” Stepping forward, you pick up the ball.

“For an old man who means well, my dad can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“I-”, he stands with his hands on his hips, confusion written on his face. There is no way you were supposed to know about this, and now he’s been caught. It feels good for a fraction of a second. “It wasn’t a secret.” He says as he kicks the grass. He reminds you of that little boy you once knew, getting in trouble and trying to hide his guilt. But before you stands the grown man who still can’t handle the consequences of his own actions.

“I just can’t believe you Rooster.” You throw the ball back to him as he looks up. Hard. It pushes the glove back into his chest and his lips twist into a grimace.

“For what? Going on a date?”, his voice raises the slightest bit as he throws it back to you. Just as hard. The only difference being you were ready for it.

“Not for that you idiot. For going on a date with her!”.

“What’s wrong with her?” Without meaning to, your jaw drops as you look around the street of your neighborhood. Your dad’s lawnmower is still going in the backyard as you turn to him.

“Are you kidding me? Rooster, it was your idea to set her up with Bob, and after she laughed in his face you decided to stick your tongue down her throat in the middle of the party and then what? Ask her out?”

“Ok, she kissed me. And it obviously wasn’t going to work out between the two of them! Why are you so upset about this?”

“Because even if she supposedly didn’t know she was being set up with Bob, you did! I mean, what the hell kind of wingman are you? But you know what?”, you decide as you throw the ball back to him, closer to his face this time, “You two assholes deserve each other.” The ball lands in his glove as he’s quick to catch it just below his chin.

“Whoa. Hold on. You’re kind of being an asshole right now.”

“Are not”, you huff.

“Are too”, he mimics.

“How am I the one being an asshole for trying to defend my friends?”

“Uh-un. Friend. Singular. And you’re being a little too defensive for someone you claim is just your friend.” You swallow, glancing to the gate leading to the backyard, the hum from the lawnmower still going. There’s not a chance he could have heard what he said, but you’re still paranoid nonetheless. Rooster’s winding up as you look back at him, giving you barely enough time to catch the ball right in front of your face. You’d be lying if you said your hand didn’t sting from the force of his throw.

“Keep your voice down”, you grit in his direction. He just shakes his head.

“So I’m right then”, he scoffs. “You just don’t learn, do you?” You snap back to him as his lip lifts. As if he knows something more than you. He couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.

“Learn what?”, you snap, “Don’t act like you’re not doing this for any other reason than to rid yourself of whatever guilt you have left.” You grunt, throwing the ball as hard as you can as he catches it with ease. Almost as if you’re playing catcher, he plays his part as pitcher beautifully, winding up even more than before, throwing the ball back to you almost immediately. The ball snaps in the glove you hold up in front of your face.

“That guilt will live with me for the rest of my life.” The draw of his brows beneath the beating sun tells you he’s angry. Maybe not with you, but it’s still anger either way, and it has to be let out somehow. “So if I can stop you from making a mistake, keep you from breaking your heart even more than I have, I will do whatever it takes.” Oh you’re angry now. You throw the ball with everything you have back at him. You are not some dumb kid like he was when he left. You’ve been through enough to have grown up younger than you should have.

“If you really cared about how I felt- or how anybody other than yourself felt that for that matter, you wouldn’t set someone up with a woman who is so obviously wrong for him. And then”, you laugh, “after she’s embarrassed him you wouldn’t kiss her in front of him and go on a damn date with her!” He only shakes his head at the ground before gripping the baseball in his right hand, rolling it around.

“I set him up to try and stop you from making a mistake. I was doing it to protect you!” The sound of a dog barking has you whipping your head to the street to your left. It sounds almost identical to Sylvia but you can’t seem to find the source of the noise. Your heart beats a little faster at the thought of him taking her for a walk nearby. That would be such god-awful timing. The thought of him possibly walking Sylvia down your street has you too rattled, and you’re slightly disappointed with yourself.

The searing pain hits you before the ball even falls to the ground, as you do with it.

“Jesus Christ!”, you scream as you fall to your back, cradling the side of your face the baseball hit.

“Oh shit! Oh my god- are you ok?”, Rooster appears on his knees right next to you, brown eyes wide as you’ve ever seen them as he grimaces along with you. The glove is just big enough for you to be able to throw it off of your hand, hitting him in the chest as you writhe on the freshly cut grass. You can’t help it as the hot tears slide out of your eyes, the pain too much.

“Hey, hey you’re fine! Don’t cry, please don’t cry!”, he pleads as you try to open your eyes long enough to glare at him.

“You hit me in the face with a fucking baseball of course I’m going to fucking cry!”, you scream. “You IDIOT!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I thought you were looking!” You glare at him through your uncovered eye as his hands hover over you. “Ok, are you bleeding? Lemme see.” You glare as hard as you can at him as he backs away. The pulse emanating from the side of your face is stopping you from feeling anything else, but you’re pretty sure that liquid sliding down your face are just stray tears that refuse to stay put.

“Ok, that’s fine. Um-”, he panics as you beg yourself to stop crying in front of him. “Alright, I’m gonna go get some ice, stay right here.” And before you have the mind to make a smart comment about going anywhere, your hands reach out and wrap around his ankle. The unexpected movement causes his weight to shift forward, giving him no time to brace himself as he falls to the ground. It doesn’t relieve any pain, but it feels good to watch him face plant onto the grass. There was still so much to say, too much you feel as though you can’t even get out your feelings through your words.

“Hey, what the hell?!”, he turns over as you grab your discarded glove.

“You were protecting me?!”. He does his best to dodge your blows, but it’s no use as he puts his hands up to protect himself and his stupid face. With the glove in both your hands, you whack at his torso. “I have been taking care of myself since I was 12!”, you grunt as you continue to hit him. “I am a grown woman! I don’t need to be lectured by anybody, especially not you!”

“I’m sorry, just stop!”, it’s obviously more of a nuisance than actually hurting him, but you are in so much pain right now you just want to get him back anyway you can. He attempts to crawl away on his back, but you stop him by sitting on his stomach, causing him to grunt at the unexpected weight.

“HEY!”, you pause at the sound of your dad’s voice, arms lifted in the air mid-blow. Rooster is still covering his face with his arms as he turns to look at your dad. “What is going on?!” Your arms are still in the air as the two of you look at each other before attempting to speak over one another.

“He started it!” “It was an accident!”, you yell at the same time. The sound of his voice has you looking down at the audacity of the man you are currently pinning to the grass.

“Why would you throw a ball at someone who isn’t looking?!”

“I thought you were!”, he’s quick to defend himself. You catch his gaze soften as his eyes shift to the right side of your face where he hit you with the ball.

“Inside, now!”, he orders as you and Rooster scramble to your feet. He walks ahead of you as your dad trails behind you. “Good afternoon Mrs. Callahan!” You turn to find your neighbor walking her goldendoodle just across the street, eyeing the state of all three of you that your dad doesn’t try to hide. One of the biggest differences between your parents. Your mother would have walked you delicately into the house pretending everything was under control and just fine. Until she closed the door. Your dad on the other hand, he knows things aren’t under his control and he doesn’t try to hide it. He’s not trying to keep up some image. It’s easy when you don’t care what other people think.

The dog barks once more before your dad ushers you inside.

He urges the two of you to sit on the couch as he runs to grab the first-aid kid, and you take one side begrudgingly as Rooster takes the other. Your face is starting to throb, but once you look down at your jeans you notice the grass and dirt stains on not only your knees, but your hands as well. You’re sure the back of them look the same, as do Rooster’s clothes.

Your dad sits on the coffee table before you, leaning forward as his hand gently moves your face so he can examine it. He tuts as you’re forced to look over at Rooster, who as you expected, is covered in grass stains as he twiddles with his thumbs. You can’t help but wonder why he’s still listening to your dad, it’s not like when you were younger and he was left in charge of the two of you. He can leave if he wants to.

“Well”, your dad starts as he reaches for the gauze, “It’s not bleeding too bad…” Huh, so you guess some of that liquid was blood. “Probably from the stitching”, he talks to himself as you wince from the pressure he’s applying.

“It’s gonna leave a nice bruise, though”, Wordlessly you push his hand away and apply the pressure yourself as he eyes you once before looking at the man on the other end of the couch.

“You ok Rooster?”

“‘M fine”, he mumbles back.

“Good”, he says as he rounds the coffee table. “Cause what the hell is going on? Huh? I left for two minutes!” He takes one hand off of his hips to point at the two of you, ready to go into a rant before his phone rings from where he left it in the kitchen. Glancing between the pair of you and back to the kitchen he slides a dirty hand down his face.

“Wait right here”, he demands pointing at the two of you before locating the source of the ringing. The only thing you can hear is the muffled sound of your dad talking on the phone, and the slight shift of Rooster on the other end of the couch.

“I’m really sorry-”

“Just-”, you cut Rooster off, “shut up.” He’s quiet for a second. Just a second. Before he decides he’s not going to listen to you.

“I got a concussion from getting hit in the head with a ball”, he comments as you roll your eyes. As if you could have forgotten. “Mom took me to the ER just in case, and as per usual, she was right.”

“I know, Rooster”, you interrupt him. “I was there. It was the summer you were on that comp baseball team.”

“I know you were. I just wanna remind you in case you feel like brushing this one off.”

“I’m not-”, you scoff, “What makes you think I’m gonna ‘brush this one off’?” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.

“I just remember you always saying when you got hurt that it wasn’t a big deal. Concussions are kind of a big deal.”

“I know- I’ve had one.” His brow furrows as he turns to face you, concern written into the creases in his forehead.

“Wait- when did you have one?” Your face turns hot as you realize you’ve revealed more than you would have liked to.

“I don’t know”, you shrug as you try to avoid his gaze, ”I was like 14.”

“Well what happened?” Taking away the gauze from your face, there’s a small line of blood, but nothing else. You trade it out for the icepack on the table and gently press it to where you’re hurting.

“I fell into a wall”, you tell him as you focus on the sting it brings to your cheek.

“You just fell into a wall?”

“Yeah- I tripped over something in my room.” It’s quiet for a moment as he mulls over what he’s about to say.

“Did you fall or were you pushed?” The color drains from your face as you clench your jaw. How dare he? You turn to face him, dropping both hands into your lap so he has to look at your entire face. Look at what he did.

“No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t just get to pick and choose when you’re loyal or protective. You left, Rooster. You knew what was going on and you still decided to leave. So whatever happened after I didn’t see you for 16 years, you don’t deserve to know.” He’s quiet as his eyes soften at you.

“And as for Bob-”, you clear your throat, “He’s my friend. And I will defend any of my friends. That included you at one point. I did in fact. I defended you when Hangman made his stupid comments, but now you’re the one who keeps running his mouth, and- and hanging around people who think it’s fine to be so blatantly rude. So you know what, Emily might just be perfect for you.” His mouth opens and closes before he thinks better than to say anything.

“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe me anything and I don’t want anything from you. So stop thinking you’re protecting me when all you do is keep reminding me of everything I have lost and can’t have.” He’s actually quiet now, you think you have stunned him into a complete silence. This may just be the time for him to listen, so you’re gonna say what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.

“When your mom died- I wasn’t just grieving for her. I-“, your throat starts to close up but you push through it anyway, “you left. You left and I never heard from you again and I had to grieve for someone who wasn’t even dead. He chose to leave and never come back. And I know that you were hurting, but so was I.” He clears his throat as you listen to your dad finishing up his conversation. The ice pack crinkles as you press it against your face once more. It really does fucking hurt. “So please, just once, think of how your actions affect anybody else but yourself.”

He doesn’t bother saying anything else. What else is there to say? A sorry won’t even make a difference anymore. He’s said it too many times for the words to have meaning when they leave his lips. You watch his adam's apple bob before deciding you don’t want to look at him even more. The only thing you can hear is the faint sound of your dad from the kitchen, tying up the end of his phone call. Then you’re almost sure you can hear Bradley sniffle before he abruptly stands, staring at his hands.

“I’m gonna go. There are a couple things for you in that box”, he motions to the cardboard rectangle sitting on the coffee table. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “If you keep getting headaches that won’t go away- just please go get checked out. I uh-”, this is the first time in a long time you’ve seen him so nervous he can’t find his words. One of the last times was speaking at Carole’s funeral, and your eyes can’t help but tear up at the parallel. “Mantis- I don’t want to hurt you. But I know I already did, so I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry”, he whispers his apology before heading to the front door. Your dad is walking in just as he leaves.

“Where’s Rooster?”

“He had to go”, you say with a clogged throat. He stands with his hands on his hips, perplexed at the entire situation.

“Well- do I need to talk to him?”

“No”, the words fall from your lips, “It’s fine.” He catches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare at the cardboard box on the table.

“Hey”, he almost whispers to get your attention. You look up with unshed tears in your eyes. “Are you ok?” It hurts to swallow as you try your best not to break the barrier of crying.

“It just hurts”, you explain, not entirely sure what part you’re talking about. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you stand before you let him talk. “I’m gonna go lie down. I’ve had a long day.” With a skeptical eye he lets you go, but not before sending you with the ice pack and letting you know he’d be up to check on you.

Once your back is turned and you’ve made it up the last steps, the first of many tears fall without much trying. You turn the shower on instead of lying in bed, deciding to do something somewhat productive. And once out you try your best not to look in the mirror, but catch sight of your cheek. It’s already swollen, an undertone of purple creeping out from the tiny cut from the stitching of the ball.

After getting into bed you stare at the ceiling, letting the day sink in. You lie there for a moment, trying to quiet your thoughts in order to let you sleep, but they’re too loud. Turning over, you stare at your bedside table. A framed picture you keep of you and Carole sits next to your phone. You can almost hear her laugh through the glossy finish of the photo, but you see Bradley in her smile through and through. A tear slides across your face and lands on your pillow, darkening the fabric. And you let it happen. You let the next one happen, too. And then you don’t stop yourself from crying.

Letting the rest out, you fold your knees to your chest and allow yourself to cry. You cry for Carole, for how much you miss her and how much life she missed out on. And you cry for Bradley. Even if he did hurt you, you cry because you miss him, too. And you cry because you wish you were brave. You wish you had the courage to say something to someone when you were younger. And even now, you cry because you wish you had the strength to look Bob in the eye and say- anything. Get past your own fears of rejection and punishment, and let him know that you see him for what he is. A good person, who deserves everything and more. And you know someday he’ll find someone who is more than eager to give that to him. Even if you already are, it can't be you.

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Tags :

bob floyd fanfiction bob floyd fic top gun maverick top gun fanfiction bob floyd x reader WHY ME mavdad robert bob floyd x female reader tg:m bob floyd angst bob floyd top gun fanfic

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keep-on-burnin

2 years ago

this short little piece was requested by my lovely friends, you know who you are😇 enjoy some drunk and lovey bob<3 also unedited cause I’m lazy ;)

the only sounds in the house were the washing machine rumbling quietly in the background and an old record you’d thrown on. You sat lounging on the couch of your living room, book in hand and half empty wine glass on the table. A stupid rom-com that you weren’t too interested in played on mute across your TV screen. The sun had already set and the sky was now filled with stars. A cool breeze from the ocean blew into your little home through a slightly cracked open window, gifting a pleasant scent of salt water.

You didn’t get much alone time nowadays. All the hustle and bustle that comes along with being a US Naval Aviator rarely let up, and when it did, you’d usually be enjoying a few pints and a round of pool at the Hard Deck with your fellow officers. Tonight though, you’d decided to let Bob go off on his own in favour of finishing a couple loads of laundry and a bottle of wine.

It was nice every once in a while to have time alone with yourself to catch up on all the missed self-care. Bob was always good at reminding you to take care of yourself, though he was kind of a hypocrite.

Tonight was yours to unwind and his to let loose. He was always the one to stay sober at the Hard Deck, politely declining every beer in favour of a glass of water to ensure that both of you and your friends had a way of getting home safe. He was ever the gentleman. Before he left though, you had told him to go have fun and if he needed you would pick him up when he was ready. So, it was quite the surprise to hear the crunching of gravel in your driveway and the sight of old yellow headlights beaming through your open window.

You heard faint slurred sentences of, “I can walk by myself,” obviously Bob, and “You’re plastered, Robert” which could be non other than Rooster.

You could only assume that Bradley was the designated driver tonight, poor soul. You’d had your fair share of DD nights and taking care of drunk aviators was not easy, especially a light-weight like sweet Bobby.

The sound of your front door flying open and a muttered “shit” could be heard from the entry way. You thought about getting up to help your boyfriend, but ultimately decided to sit back and enjoy the show. In your defense, you never got to see Bob drunk, like, ever. Once he passed through the threshold into your softly lit living room you realized just how drunk he really was. His normally gelled back and neat hair was askew, his cobalt eyes drooping, and his signature tipsy smirk was sitting on his lips.

He leans, a little ungracefully, against the doorway.

“Honey, I’m home!” He chirps, that stupid smirk growing wider.

Shaking your head and huffing out a laugh, you slide your bookmark into place and set your paperback next to your now empty wine glass.

“How was your night?” You ask, already full well knowing it must’ve been great.

Bob doesn’t move from his spot against the door frame, he just looks at you and smiles. That fucking smile that makes you weak in the knees. Thank god you’re sitting on the couch or you probably would’ve fallen face first into the carpet, but despite that, you rise to your feet and make your way over to him. Once you’re standing close enough, Bob practically throws all of his body weight on you, making you stumble back a couple steps. You laugh heartily as you let him nuzzle your neck and leave kisses along your skin.

“Night was good. I missed you though.” He confesses, breathing in the subtle scent of your perfume and sighing out once you begin to comb your fingers through his soft hair.

Moments like these were your favourite. Just you and Bob in your own little world, loving each other, holding each other. It was true bliss.

After a few minutes, Bob pulls his face away from your neck and smiles a lopsided, lovesick grin at you. Oh yeah, he’s hammered.

“How much did you drink?” You ask with a giggle, moving your hand down from his hair to the side of his face.

“Too much tequila.” He all but whispers, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear that this moment between you two would end. His soft eyes bore into yours, and now your sporting the same lovesick smile he is. Bob begins to sway back and forth slowly to the new song on the record. Of course it’s a classic love song from the 50’s that he knows by heart, so he sings it to you. It’s romantic, slurred words and all.

It truly feels like a movie. You and Bob dancing under the soft yellow light of the living room, one of you tipsy from wine, the other one plastered from tequila and cheap beer and both smiling like idiots in love.

The silence was nice and comfortable, until Bob said something you’d never thought would come out of his mouth, especially in this state.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You ask back in disbelief, chuckling at the very sudden question.

Bob would normally recoil while his pretty face flushed with a dark pink, but drunk Bob is a different breed. He just smiles wider, if that’s even possible, before continuing,

“I love you so much honey, and I wanna love you everyday for the rest of my life.”

The confession surprises you to say the least, but you know that drunk words are sober thoughts, you also know that sober Bob has probably been stressing about that question since the day he met you. So of course, with a teary eyed smile you answer his question by saying,

“Ask me again when you’re sober” and you sealed the deal with a kiss.

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lewis pullman bob floyd bob floyd imagine bob floyd fluff bob floyd smut bob floyd x reader bob floyd x you lewis pullman x reader lewis pullman imagine top gun fluff top gun bob top gun x reader top gun imagine request Spotify

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thrivingandcrying

2 years ago

➱ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✄ 𝐚𝐨𝟑!

♧ 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𓆟 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

✿ 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲!

☏ 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞!

❝ ❞ 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭!

☹ 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤!

➱ 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

☞ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 ✧ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ✄ 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ☿ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲

↣ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰

𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 ✧ ✄ ☞ ☿

☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾ ☽ 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 -- 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟐-𝟏𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

☾ ☽ this story is explicit! 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+. off the top of my head there's definitely smut, mentions of death, suicide if you squint, grief, violence, graphic descriptions. if you have questions about specific warnings, feel free to message me and I will be happy to give a breakdown of each chapter warning.

☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 It’s been almost three years since the accident that took half of her, and Faye “Clover” Ledger seems fine, really. She loves her old house, she has a perpetually expanding vinyl collection, she’s got a job she likes on base, and she maintains a rigid routine. She’s grounded--literally. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw feels like he’s been homesick his entire life. He’s always on the move; jumping from one squadron to another, living one mission to the next. Somewhere in between losing both his parents and carving a successful career as a Naval aviator, he’s never found himself a home. When a call to serve on a high-priority mission with an elite squadron brings Rooster back to Miramar, he finds that home. Except it’s not a house that he finds--it’s the former backseater that observes and records the mission for the Official Navy Record.

☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 ✧ ✄ ☞ ☿

☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☿ 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 2-16-2023

☿ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭! 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭!

☿ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬

☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲

☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Los Angeles, 1979.

You’re always trying to feel things you just can’t.

Donning the name Cherry Arsan, you’re the newest and hottest thing to hit the booming porn scene in California. Wide-eyed and open-minded, you’re a free spirit that finally found the means to get off her family’s chicken farm in Nebraska.

Rooster Bradshaw is the biggest name in porn, a veteran in the industry and well-respected by actors and producers alike. As fate would have it, he stars opposite you in your very first pornographic film. The spark between the two of you runs red-hot on camera and translates off-screen with a mutual infatuation with each other. You shoot into stardom in a burst of technicolor, baring all on screen and off.

With Rooster looming beside you, you are inducted into the audacious world of Los Angeles in the seventies. For a while, it’s a beautiful one: free love, fluid sexuality, pink Cadillacs, nights at the disco, days at the record bar, expensive dresses, roller-skating down the boardwalk, swimming in Rooster’s cherry-colored pool, getting paid to have sex.

When it gets ugly, muddled with a predatory industry and an abundance of drugs that are readily and easily accessible to you, it gets ugly fast.

So fast that you don’t feel it happening until you're already in the midst of a purple haze.

𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

☼ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐮𝐭 ✄ ✧

☼ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮

☼ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤. 𝐍𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.

☼ 𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ☿

☼ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮

☼ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞.

☼ 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 ✧ ✄

☼ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮

☼ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

☼ 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✄

☼ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮

☼ 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭--𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

↣ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧

𝐟𝐢𝐜

✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✄ ☞ ☿ ✧

✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲)

✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✯ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✯ 𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟐-𝟏𝟓-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

✯ this story is explicit! 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈! smut, language, sexual themes, violence, graphic depictions, drugs, death, etc. please think before you interact!

✯ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬: #1 #2 #3

✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬: #1 #2 #3

✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Before becoming a hotshot Naval aviator, Jake Seresin was born and bred in the small town of Silverkeep, TX. It’s only a short drive from Austin but feels like a different world entirely--all the houses are falling apart, people keep their rusty trucks unlocked on their front lawn, central air conditioning is rarer than a rainstorm, and everyone wears their best boots to church. His every waking minute is spent with his endearing group of friends--and most importantly: you. Riding your bikes to Silver Spring on Friday afternoons, drinking cheap beer around a bonfire after school, and making mixed tapes is what you all live for as your senior year drifts to a close.

He comes of age and falls in love with you, his best friend that he affectionately refers to as Filly. You’re the bull-headed, ardent, zealous girl he met in Sunday school before you were old enough to tie your own shoes. Somewhere between chain-smoking after baseball games underneath the bleachers and lying in the bed of someone’s daddy’s truck at the rundown drive-in, the two of you have been entirely dedicated to each other. You both think you’re in love. But your situation is a delicate balance of downright, darling devotion and paralyzing fear of rejection. This is to say: neither of you have the gall to do a damn thing about it. Your existence in the little world of Silverkeep is fragile--suddenly and easily disrupted when maturescence rears its ugly head. Sometimes very far apart and sometimes very close together, yours and Jake’s story spans across fifteen years. From Port Gin to Rior River, your paths are woven intricately by fated grocery store encounters and sprawling horse ranches.

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: You're a Kazansky--Tom "Iceman" Kazinsky's youngest daughter--and you've taken after your father and become a Naval aviator. You finished at the top of your class at Top Gun and have worked diligently and fruitlessly to get to where you are now: North Island. You don the call-sign Wisteria not only because the beauty of the flower but because of its lethal qualities.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the bane of your existence and he returns those feelings towards you ten-fold. Jake thinks that you've gotten everything handed to you and has no trouble telling everyone that. When things finally boil over one day (in a shower cubicle on base of all places), you find unlikely companionship in Jake. Who knew lemon-lime Gatorade and Plan B would be the start to your love story?

Or enemies to fuck buddies to friends to lovers. Whichever you prefer!

✦ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ☿ ☞

✦ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮

✦ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐲𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲.

✦ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞 ☿ ☞ ✄

✦ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚)

✦ 𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧-𝐁.

✦ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 ☞ ✄

✦ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚)

✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

✦ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐈𝐭 ☿ ☞ ✄ ✧