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ellecdc · 3 months

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Come Back, Be Here (part 6)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.1k

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received in canon), racism/bigotry, swearing x a million cuz it's Remus' POV, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, only to have you snatched out from under him again?

“Where the FUCK is she?”

The headmaster calmly placed his teacup back on its saucer as the two men came barging into his office.

“Ah, Mr. Black. Mr. Lupin. Please, take a seat.”

So, Sirius did; he took the seat, and he threw it at the wall.

“I am not fucking around old man. Where. Is. She? Where is Y/N?” He barked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Sirius stopped in his pacing.

“You don’t know!?” Remus repeated incredulously.

Dumbledore nodded.

Sirius picked up a spinning orb from the headmaster’s desk and sent it careening to the window. The windows – the damned things – were charmed not to break, but the orb did. As pieces of crystal shattered and scattered onto the floor, many sleeping portraits of previous headmasters began waking. A few stayed behind to watch the spectacle, whilst many left to find other portraits to haunt for the time being.

“That’s not good enough.” Sirius fumed.

With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore righted the chair Sirius had thrown. “Why don’t you have a seat, son?”

“I am not your fucking son!” He shouted back, kicking the seat over again.

“Mr. Lupin, why don’t you encourage your friend here to calm down?” The portrait of a previous headmistress asked condescendingly.

“Get fucked, ma’am.” Was his muttered response.

With a huff, the headmistress decided to leave as well.

“I am so sick of being played like some pawn in this gods-awful game of yours! We are children! You fucking groomed us as students and enlisted us right out of the gates, fattening us up like cattle for slaughter!”

“Now, Mr. Black-”

“I’M NOT DONE.” Sirius roared.

Dumbledore shifted his eyes to Remus, who kept his gaze firmly on him.

“You – you’re supposed to be this powerful wizard with years of experience. You defeated that Grindel-fuck back in the sodding dark-ages or whenever, yet somehow, this is out of your wheelhouse!?”

“Mr. Black, everyone learned from the Global Wizarding World with Grindelwald; Tom Riddle how to cheat death, and myself to enlist the help of others.” Dumbledore said.

“But you didn’t get help! You got soldiers, and we’re the ones fighting this fucking war for you! You get to sit here in this bloody castle with powerful ancient wards protecting you, drinking your tea, wanking to the portraits of the other headmasters in your spare time, while the rest of us get their fucking heads blown off!

“We’re the ones being captured. We’re the ones being tortured. We’re the ones being killed. We’re the ones with blood on our hands fighting for our fucking lives, everyday! Bouncing from safe-house to safe-house whilst never being safe. And you know! You’ve known there was a spy, you’ve had contacts on the other side, but you give us nothing. You just send us off on these fucking missions, blind, and we all have to hope that that’s enough. That we’ll live to see another day. That we’ll make it home to our loved ones.”

Sirius paused to catch his breath. “You will not get away with using her like this, not anymore, not by me.”

Dumbledore’s crystal blue eyes bore into Sirius’ stormy grey ones. After a few moments, he offered him a subtle nod.

“Where is she?” He repeated, quieter this time.

“Sirius, the truth is that I do not know.”

Sirius groaned. “How can you not know!? Fine, fine. Who is your contact? Apparently, someone who was in league with the Black’s for the stupid fucking house-elf to betray me like this. So, who is it? Narcissa? Finally tired of the bleach fumes from that husband of hers? It can’t be Bellatrix.”

Dumbledore pursed his lips as he considered Sirius.

“It’s not Bellatrix, is it?” He asked in quiet disbelief.

“No, son, it is not Bellatrix.”

“’Kay well, tell me who it is, then. Reg’s dead so you’re leaving me with dear old Cissy here.”

Dumbledore leaned onto his forearms on his desk as he peered at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles.

“A house-elf will always be the most loyal to the head of the house it serves.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, well my house-elf just up and fucked-off with the love of my life so I’d say his loyalty doesn’t exactly align with...me...” He trailed off as something seemed to dawn on him.

“Unless I’m not the head of the house.”

Remus’ neck snapped as he whipped his head to regard his friend.

“The deed and the vault at Gringotts were all moved to you, Sirius, you’re the head of the house.”

Sirius never pulled his gaze away from the headmaster. “Goblins can be tricked, and deeds can be forged.” He whispered. “But house-elf magic...”

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair.

“But Regulus is dead. He was pronounced dead – your mother offed herself because he was pronounced dead.” Remus argued.

“He was assumed dead.” Dumbledore corrected.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sirius breathed.

“Regulus has been in contact with me since this past spring. It appears that Miss. L/N was the turning point for him in this war.”

Sirius stared in bafflement. “What do you...”

“You may, one day, need to discuss with your brother. However, what he explained to me,” Dumbledore started. “Is that he had discovered Riddle’s secret of the horcruxes after becoming increasingly disenchanted by his rhetoric. He was intent on defeating Riddle himself, but came to me when he found Y/N.”

The colour drained from Remus’ face. “You knew? All this time.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to the lycanthrope.

“You knew!?” He repeated.

“You must understand, I could not remove her from Riddle’s ranks without rousing suspicion from the other Death Eaters who knew she was there. We were also becoming increasingly aware of a spy within our ranks and could not jeopardize the intel by alerting the Death Eaters of our own spy.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Sirius cried out. “You let her suffer there so you could keep the upper hand!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Fuck that!” Sirius barked. “Fuck that and fuck you!”

“You do not understand how differently this could have all played out without her, Sirius.”

Remus scoffed. “Oh the ‘could’s’, professor, really? We can sit here until our dying breath discussing all of the fucking could’s that could have taken place from the beginning of fucking time itself and it would mean nothing.”

“I don’t care what could have happened.” Sirius interjected. “You should have protected her. Protected all of us.”

Dumbledore looked between his two former students as he seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“The five horcruxes that Y/N brought us have been destroyed. I do not want to give Riddle time to realize that they are gone. I have discussed with our allies what will need to happen next.” Dumbledore stated.

“And what will need to happen next, professor?” Sirius sneered.

“It appears that Mr. Pettigrew told Riddle he would be the secret keeper by their next meeting.” Dumbledore said as Sirius swallowed bile rising in his throat. “I believe it would be best to lure Riddle out when he does not feel the need for an army.”

Remus leaned forward in his chair. “How do we do that?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. “It would be best if Riddle remained unaware of our knowledge of Peter.”

“I think he’s going to figure it out when he misses their next club meeting.” Sirius scoffed.

“Unless he goes.” Remus murmured.

“Over my dead body do we release that rat bastard.” Sirius growled.

“I agree, Mr. Black, I do not believe we should entrust Peter. However, there may be another way.”

Sirius looked at Dumbledore blankly. “Tell me, headmaster, do you plan on breaking out some unforgiveables? Because short of imperio, I’m not sure-”

“Polyjuice.” Remus blurted.

Sirius whipped his head to his friend in shock, whilst a twinkle of pride appeared in Dumbledore’s eye.

“We could keep up the ruse.” Remus explained.

“I’ll go.” Sirius claimed.

Remus groaned. “Pads, do you really think you’re the best person for this job?”

Sirius looked at Remus with a look of ill-hidden betrayal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sirius, this is the most sensitive mission possibly anyone will ever have to take. You are passionate but you have a tendency to go in guns blazing and this is not the setting.”

“I’ll be fine.” Sirius argued.

“You are going to hear and see things that will infuriate and you will not be able to react. You will have to put your morals aside.”

“Rem, honestly, I grew up with the pureblood bullshit, I can handle it.” Sirius insisted.

“It nearly killed you, Pads. I was there when you showed up at the Potter’s.”

“Remus, I’m going.”

“Perhaps it should be me.” Remus stated as if Sirius hadn’t said anything at all.

“Are you insane?”

“Obviously the answer to that is yes but listen: no one would be able to use legillimency on me due to lunar magic, I stand a better chance at keeping a level head, and I’m perhaps just a touch less emotionally invested in this than you are.” Remus argued.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’ve spent my entire life pretending that I’m not a monster. I’m sure I can pretend to be one for a little bit.”

“You’re not a monster.” Sirius sighed.

Remus gave him a sad smile. “See? I’ve fooled you all.”

Dumbledore hummed. “I think Mr. Lupin may be right, Sirius. Perhaps you should trust him with this.”

“Of course I trust him, but-” Sirius started, turning to look at Remus. “I can’t lose you too.” He admitted quietly.

Though the sentiment caused a twinge of pain in Remus’ chest, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to razz his mate. “Awe, Pads. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.” He cheeked as he pinched Sirius’ arm.

“Oh, sod off you wanker.” Sirius muttered and crossed his arms.

“I suppose it’s settled.” Dumbledore claimed. “Please await my correspondence with further instructions.”

October 29th

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” James could be heard muttering as he paced the family room of 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Why isn’t Dumbledore doing this himself?” Lily muttered darkly.

“I’m not leaving Y/N in his hands, not again.” Sirius murmured into his hand as he stared at the fire. “It should be me going. Remus, I should go.”

With a sigh, Remus stood from the wingback chair. “No, Pads. It’s too late to change the plan now. It’s going to be fine.”

Sirius shook his head and looked at the ceiling.

“She’s fucking strong, Sirius. And she’s got more people on her side this time. We’re gonna finish this.” Remus pressed.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and everyone took a steadying breath.

“Be careful, Rem.” Lily tearfully murmured as she gave him a hug.

“I hate this.” James repeated just as quietly as he too hugged the lycanthrope.

Remus smiled at them both before he moved to Sirius, who had shifted his gaze back to the fire.

“We’re close, Pads.” He whispered.

Sirius nodded, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Thank you, Moony. For going after her.”

“She’s pack.” Remus said simply causing Sirius to let out a shuddering breath.

“Be careful.”

Remus nodded in agreement and took a swig from his pocket flask. He grunted slightly as he felt his body shifting and changing, but it was nothing close to the pain he experienced every full moon.

Sirius, Lily, and James all looked in various levels of disgust as Remus – now in the form of Peter Pettigrew – stood to his full height. “How do I look?”

The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before turning back to Remus...Peter?

“Fuck, this is weird.” James muttered.

“Yeah, honestly mate, I think you should go.” Sirius agreed.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not actually him, right?”

Lily grimaced. “Yeah, yeah Judas. Get going.”

Sirius and James looked at her inquisitively, but Remus snorted a laugh offering everyone a wave as he stepped into the street. He walked a short distance to a hidden alleyway where he could apparate to the location of the Death Eater meeting. Remus sent one silent prayer to any god who’d listen.

Please let this go smoothly.

Lestrange Manor loomed dauntingly in front of Remus as he tried to muster the courage to walk up the brick path leading to the door. Purebloods and their gaudy houses he mused silently.

“Petty-Pettigrew!” A voice sing-songed behind him, causing him to turn.

Barty Crouch Jr skipped towards him merrily as if he were an alt-punk Dorothy on his way to Oz. He paused in front of Remus and tapped his cheek twice, slightly too hard to be considered just condescending and bordering on aggressive. “How’s our favourite little rat?”

Remus grimaced but tried to play it off as a smile. “Er, I’m-”

“Oh, Salazar. No, I don’t actually care.” Barty chuckled, looking back at his entourage like can you believe this guy? His friendly façade fell as he turned back to Remus. “Better have something for the Dark Lord today, otherwise we’ll find other uses for our little lab rat.” He finished with a slimy wink as he continued up the path to the manor.

Well, Remus thought, welcome to Hell, I suppose.

He followed Barty The Deranged and company up the walkway, fighting the urge to hum: We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz as he went.

If Remus thought the outside of Lestrange Manor was counteracting the anti-depressants coursing through his system, the inside of it made him want to grab the closest silver fork and end it all. He walked along what had to be a fourty-foot table trying to find the best seat before he realized that this was the wrong approach – every seat was terrible.

“Don’t be absurd, Pettigrew.” Mulciber sneered at Remus. “A lowly like you stands at the back.”

Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded, moving to stand near the wall by the door. At least I’ll be close if I need a quick exit. He also fought the biting urge to lunge at the sight of Fenrir Greyback. You’re here for a reason, Lupin.

Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the...Remus didn’t know what the hell purebloods wont to call rooms like this...a grand room? A dining room? A reception hall? Whatever it was called, it fucking sucked, and it sucked worse when those three walked in. The brothers mostly regarded themselves with proper decorum, but Bellatrix and her certain flare seemed to suck the air out of the room causing everyone to stand a little more at attention.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked like she was the Queen of Hearts attending her own coronation. She smiled wickedly at those seated around the table, pausing briefly to share terse words with Lucius Malfoy, before then double-cheek-kissing his wife and her sister, Narcissa.

There seemed to be some sort of disagreement about who should sit in one of the two seats at the head of the table next to the Dark Lord’s seat (throne for all intents and purposes), but a silent conversation that passed between Bellatrix and her brother-in-law resulted in the latter finding another chair.

Voldemort walked into the room and those who had been sitting stood suddenly, falling deathly silent as Voldemort moved to stand at the head of the table. The sickening smell of dark magic accosted Remus who felt his eyes water; he swallowed hard against his gag reflex as a giant python type snake slithered its way into the room.

If there was ever any speculation that Nagini was the sixth horcrux before, Remus now felt confident that he could confirm it.

“My Lord.” Rodolphus said reverently as he bowed his head. Remus watched as the rest of the room did the same, and quickly followed suit – he wanted to throw up.

Remus’ plan of attack here was to be as non-descript as possible. He was here for one reason – tell Voldemort he was the secret keeper and plan a course of ‘attack’ on the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow – otherwise, he was to be invisible. He could not be invisible if he was angry, and if he listened too closely, he’d get angry, so...

He almost missed it when Voldemort addressed him.

“Now, I trust that you were successful in your task?” Voldemort’s voice echoed through the room, sounding more like an actor in a Greek tragedy than a tyrannical fascist leader addressing his followers.

A throat cleared before something hit Remus on the shin. He looked up and realised everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Oh erm, uh yes. My apologies...my Lord...” He tried to regain his footing. “Uhm, I was successful. I am officially the Potter’s secret keeper.”

Bellatrix barely waited until the end of the sentence to stand and begin cackling maniacally. “We’re going to kill the child! We’re going to kill the child!” She sang as she jumped and clapped her hands.

Voldemort hardly spared Bellatrix a sideways gaze as he lifted one hand – she fell silent and returned to her seat, continuing to smile and wiggle as if it were difficult to keep her obvious joy at bay.

“Though I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he began, “I’d like to eliminate this specific threat myself.”

By the end of the sentence, he was offering Remus a chilling smile. Remus worked to keep his breathing even as he tried to reciprocate it.

“Where is this hide away located?” Voldemort asked.

“Erm, Godric’s Hollow, m’Lord.”

“You will take me to them. You shall meet me in the town square at eight in the evening the day after tomorrow. We shall eliminate this threat to me once and for all.”

“Any threat to you is a threat to all of us, my Lord.” Alecto Carrow said severely which was met with a muttering of agreement from around the table.

“You will all be rewarded greatly for your dedication and loyalty to me.” Voldemort declared, and Bellatrix began a round of applause.

The meeting carried on and Remus ensured to take two more swigs of the Polyjuice potion to avoid turning back into himself prematurely.

A black cat had materialized beside Remus at some point throughout the meeting and appeared to make itself at home beside his left foot. The feline seemed to watch as Remus would lift the flask to his mouth, and he became increasingly paranoid that this cat somehow knew he was an imposter. Was this cat a spy? Was this a spy cat who somehow knew Peter was caught for being a spy for the Death Eaters and that I, as a spy, came to this meeting as Peter as a spy for the Order pretending to be Peter who was acting as a spy for the Death Eaters.

Fuck, Remus was losing it.

Get a grip you stupid bastard. He scolded himself.

The meeting appeared to conclude as Voldemort stood, and everyone followed suit. A few higher pointing Death Eaters seemed to congregate at the head of the table – Malfoy, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Snape, Nott, Goyle, and the Carrows encircled Voldemort.

Remus began looking for the door when he felt the cat brush up against his leg. He looked down to the black cat who was peering back up at him – the eyes were light, nearly blue but not quite – and they looked disturbingly familiar. The cat seemed to be cocking an eyebrow at him, if cats could do such a thing, as Remus considered it.

“What?” Remus whispered.

“Make a habit o’ talkin’ to rodents, do ye Pettigrew?” The sickening sound of Greyback’s voice permeated Remus' hearing – as well as his other senses. Suddenly, Remus was four years old again, waking to the sound of screaming that turned out the be his own as a wolf locked its jaw upon his chest. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he thought of his mothers screams and sobs, begging the healers to do something – anything – to help her boy, whilst everyone murmured it’d be kindest to just ‘put the boy out of his misery’.

“I do, actually,” Remus said, lacing his words with venom. “I’ve found they often make better company than a mangey wolf.”

Greyback seemed taken aback as he considered Remus.

“Why you little-”

“Ah, there you are, Splash.” A posh accent commented from Remus’ other side. He turned to see the form of Narcissa Malfoy bending to pick up the black cat.

“Good work, Pettigrew.” She commented as Splash weaseled its way back out of Narcissa’s arms and took a few paces to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.”

Remus nodded at Narcissa, feeling off kilter at her cordial behaviour; he couldn’t imagine Peter ever making friends with the likes of her. He moved toward the door and as he walked, he realized that the cat had paused and was watching Remus before carrying on ahead.

Remus felt like he could finally take a deep breath once he stepped beyond the gated entrance of the manor. His peace didn’t last long when he realized the cat had paused again and was once again watching him.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” He muttered quietly.

The cat looked as though it rolled its eyes at him as he walked a few more feet ahead, turning back to Remus.

“Are you expecting me to follow you? I’m not as dumb as I look.” He commented again, though realizing too late that he may actually be as dumb as he looks, seeing as he was currently talking to a cat.

He heard a low growl emanate from the cat’s chest before it turned and walked away without turning back this time to confirm Remus was following it.

“It seems as though curiosity may kill the wolf today.” Remus muttered to himself as he begrudgingly followed the cat against every one of his instincts which were screaming at him to just get the fuck out of there.

The cat stopped in a densely wooded area and seemed to scan the are before turning back to Remus, who in turn stood and stared at the cat dumbly.

“I don’t see a pentagram anywhere, is this not where you plan to sacrifice me to the devil?” He asked as he too scanned the woods for potential threats.

“Salazar, you Gryffindor’s are bloody exhausting.” A voice rang through the woods. Remus whipped his head back towards the sound, and where the cat once stood was none other than Regulus Black.

“Holy fucking shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “and so eloquent, as always.” He muttered.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.” Remus seethed.

“Disappointed, are you?”

Remus gritted his teeth. “Where’s Y/N?”

Regulus’ eyes softened considerably, though his posture remained stiff as he considered Remus.

“Safe. That is all you need to know.”

“Fuck that, Black. Where is she?”

Regulus sucked in a breath, appearing to attempt to steady himself at having to deal with the likes of Remus.

“The Dark Lord’s followers became aware that she was not as dead as they had previously assumed. We could not risk them searching for her.” Regulus admitted.

“How could they have known she wasn’t dead? The only person who could have reported that to them is Peter and he’s a little tied up right now.” Remus said darkly.

“My cousin’s little art project on her arm was done with a cursed blade – the dark magic left a trace on her. When Yaxley tried to claim that she had died while trying to escape from his hold instead of admitting he let her get away, Bellatrix was quick to prove him wrong.”

“What?” Remus asked in shock.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Good gods, which of you imbeciles did that old man send?” He asked before casting a quick finite over Remus.

Remus felt the Polyjuice potion wash away from his form as he stretched out to his correct height.

“Aren’t you wolves supposed to have superhuman hearing?” He asked condescendingly.

“Fuck off.” Remus spat.

“Now, now. There is no need for such language, Lupin; we are on the same side, after all.”

“Like fuck we are. You’re a marked Death Eater, and you abducted Y/N.” He spat.

“I think it should be obvious by now that I have clearly defected here, Lupin.” Regulus responded.

“Why?”

This seemed to catch Regulus off guard. “Pardon?”

“Why defect?”

Remus watched as Regulus stared hard at him, when suddenly a filmy haze seemed to overtake Regulus’ grey eyes and his face grew hard.

“I hardly think that is relevant.”

The two men stared at each other sizing one another up.

Remus felt conflicted. He knew Sirius hated his family, but Sirius never really could bring himself to hate Regulus – he was only a child, just like Sirius was. Regulus was a victim too. They were each dealt a shitty hand, but the way they played their cards were different. Regulus chose the path of least resistance by adapting and adhering to his parent’s wishes. Sirius rebelled, pushed back, and decided to fold, leaving the game altogether.

Sirius wanted to hate Regulus; when he got his Dark Mark, and then again when he died. But he couldn’t bring himself to, because part of it felt like it was his fault; Regulus took the role that Sirius himself was born into – and in many ways, Sirius felt as though he forced his little brother into this. And in the end, it cost Regulus his life.

But Remus, looking at Regulus now; having faked his own death, defected from not only his family’s legacy but also the reign of the 'Lord' that he had sworn himself to, all whilst helping the other side; how different were the two brothers, really?

Twin Renegades.

“Sirius is beside himself.” Remus admitted quietly.

Regulus seemed pained by this admission.

“I wouldn’t have given her back yet if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Remus’ heart stuttered. “Wait, you – you’re the one who brought her to Godric’s Hollow?”

He was responded with a single curt nod.

“But, but how? How did you know? The house is...”

“Y/N. She had described to me what she called ‘location seven’. I apparated her there.”

Remus balked. Each Order team had several secret locations they would be able to travel to in case anything went sideways during a mission. Remus wasn’t as familiar, seeing as he was the only Order member who could attend his particular missions, but he had heard his friends discussing it before. Even Lily and Sirius didn’t know the areas of James and your secret locations; they were for your safety, and your safety only.

“Location seven was the cottage in Godric’s Hollow?”

“No, it was the wooded area behind it. I could feel the familiar sense of a fidelius charm nearby, so I brought her as close to it as I could before I ran, we...” Regulus heaved a sigh, “we had fought our way out, we’d barely made it.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Regulus.”

“I’m sorry, Lupin. You may not believe me, but I am. I... I saved her because I could not watch the woman my brother loved die in front of me. I saved her for him, but the other’s discovered I had rescued her, and suddenly it became much bigger than him. I couldn’t just return her at the time.” Regulus admitted.

“The last time you saved her, she was hardly safe. How do we know she’s safe now?” Remus pleaded.

Regulus grimaced. “Again, the others had known I had rescued her last time. This time, they do not know she is here. They do not even know I am here.”

“How is she safer with you than she is at home with Sirius? With us?”

“You moved five members of the Order plus an infant with a bounty on its head into one house. If they had gone searching for Y/N and found you, it would have been devastating for the cause.” He explained. “Listen; you will escort the Dark Lord to the Potter’s cottage in two days. He plans to attend with you as Peter Pettigrew, alone; he will show up unknowingly out numbered. He goes nowhere without Nagini, and we will be able to destroy the last horcrux before finally ending the Dark Lord’s reign of tyranny. She will be home to you soon.”

“What about you?” Remus asked.

Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”

“When this is over, what about you?”

Regulus looked Remus up and down. “I hardly think it matters.”

“Of course it does; of course you matter.”

Regulus’ eyes turned stormy. “Do not pretend to know anything about me, Lupin. I have never once mattered; not to my brother, hardly to my parents until I was the last one standing, never to Dumbledore, and rarely to the Dark Lord, lest my family’s money benefitted his cause.”

“You matter to Sirius.”

“Enough!” Regulus shouted, seeming to forget himself. Remus was sure he’d never even heard of Regulus having ever raised his voice before. “Do not fuck this up, Lupin. We have one chance to end this.”

And with a quick spin, Remus was left in the dense woods alone. He hadn’t noticed how late it was until now, the darkness seeping into his bones leaving him chilled in the late October evening.

It didn’t exactly go well, but it sure could have gone a lot worse.

He walked towards where Regulus had been standing and noticed a small piece of parchment laying in the wet leaves. He picked it up and unfolded it.

“Stay safe. 1, 2, 3. V.”

It could have gone a lot worse.

October 30th

Regulus sighed – he felt exhausted from the meeting with Remus Lupin yesterday. He hated raising his temper, it made him feel like Sirius; it made him feel like a Gryffindor.

Regulus’ cat form pushed past a vine covered gate and entered a grandiose stone outbuilding before shifting back to his human form.

“Can Kreacher get master a drink before Kreacher leaves?”

Regulus sighed. “You should not return until this is over, Kreacher. My brother is surely not happy with you.”

The house-elf scoffed. “Kreacher is not afraid of blood-traitors. Besides, Kreacher serves the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; Kreacher belongs at Grimmauld Place.”

“Underestimate my brother, Kreacher, and it will be your head on the wall.” Regulus muttered.

“Now cousin, do try to keep your patience.” Narcissa said as she opened the door to her hidden library located in a small building behind the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

You sat on a Victorian style settee in Narcissa’s library with a babbling Draco on your knee as you cast colourful butterflies above him, causing the toddler to coo and clap.

“We’re in.” Regulus announced, causing your head to snap forward and Draco to make grabby hands at him. “This ends tomorrow.”

Continue to part seven here.

365 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months

Note

Hello!! i LOVE your writing and I was just thinking about a quick little story of Hobie and pregnant!reader, bc I think he would just be the sweetest, AND have you seen him with mayday it’s so cute. And again your writings are so good love them keep up the good work.

Soft spot

This is everyone’s reminder that Hobies older than 18 😇 I am not trying to be cancelled for this

Warnings- pregnancy, fluffy, Peter is such a dad.

Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Hobie hasn’t let you do anything for yourself.

“Hobes, I can do it-“

“Nope. Let me cook tonight, for you and the lil’ guy.” He said, grabbing the spoon from you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Lil guy? Who said it was a guy?”

“Just my guess.“

“I hope it’s a girl because I don’t know if I can handle another man in this house.” You mumbled and sat on the couch.

Hobie just laughed.

The next day, he’s at HQ, making sure you were fine before leaving. He saw Mayday and Peter and decided to say hi.

“Hey guys.” He said when he saw mayday and Peter.

“Hey Hobie! How’ve you been?” Peter asked, and let mayday go free. Hobie grabbed her and held her.

“Been alright. What bout you?”

��That’s good. She’s a little tiring, but pretty good.” He said as he went into detail about him and MJ.

“So, how’s Y/n?”

Hobie snickered “Stubborn. Those pregnancy hormones.”

“Yeah I know what you mean. But in the end.. it’s honestly all worth it, Y’Know? I think you’re going to be a great dad.” Peter said with a small smile as he grabbed mayday again.

“Thanks.. alright, I’ll see you around.”

“See you.” Peter waved, and mayday waved as well as they walked past him.

Hobie replayed those words in his head, he really hoped it would all be worth it in the end. And he hoped he would be a good dad.

❀❀❀❀❀

Even if he’d never say it, he had a soft spot for you and the child, who you found out was a girl.

“Told you it wouldn’t be a boy.” You snickered once you left the hospital, baby girl in Hobies arms.

“I’m happy with both my girls.” He shrugged, looking at her with admiration, not believing that you both had brought a literal human into the world.

“You really are gonna be the best dad.” You said before you entered the car.

He looked up at you and saw you smiling. Peter was right.

———————————————

Tag list:

@enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb b @xxqueen-of-horrorxx

@spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy y @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider man across the spider verse #spider punk #spider punk x reader

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Text

up to no good

pairing- bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female pilot!reader (callsign clutch) no use of y/n

an- my first fanfic ever! and it's just filth (lol) so 18+ minors DNI. top gun has a hold on me y'all. haven't even opened a word doc since college but the entire film basically lives rent free in my head and I had to write some obscene rooster so I could get back to functioning like a normal person. anyways *nervous sweating*

warning- seriously 18+, not beta’d, swearing, pwp (dogfight football is just an excuse for foreplay they knew what they were doing with that damn scene), unprotected sex, choking, edging, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, dom!rooster, oral (f receiving), rank kink if you squint, bruises, praise kink, dumbification, rooster is a leg man fight me, mentioning hangman during sex (yes this is a warning because jake seresin is sinful), the whole nine honestly I can't believe I'm posting this

length- 3.3k ish words

You silently curse Maverick for introducing the team to dogfight football as everyone trudges down towards the beach. Now, instead of working on your tan or napping on the beach for your one and only day off, you're being forced into athletic competition masquerading as a fun beach game. You like working out as much as the next pilot, but with one day off? You’d much rather spend it horizontal with your boyfriend than sprinting after him in the sand. Your gorgeous, half-naked boyfriend who's currently smoothing out his mustache in annoyance while he argues with Hangman about how they’ll split up the teams. You’re not sure who decided to make these two idiots team captains, but suspect it was born out of making sure they wouldn’t kill each other on the same team.

Rooster ends up choosing first, much to Hangman’s chagrin.

“Payback.”

“Wow,” you joke, your hand over your wounded heart for theatrics. “I see where your loyalties lie, babe.”

“Don’t be mad,” Rooster smiles into your hair before kissing your temple.

Pulling you into his side by the waist, he lightly skims his fingers across the part of your hipbone that always makes you shiver. The part that already has a bruise forming from his unrelenting grip this morning, while you were falling apart on his cock.

You glare up at him as if to say silently, don't change the subject, and he pointedly looks above your head to Seresin, pretending he’s not having flashbacks of your wanton moans.

“Hangman, go.”

The blonde flashes his signature smirk, stupid mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and reaches out to tug you from Rooster’s grasp, “Clutch, you’re with me.”

It’s surprising, of course. You weren’t actually mad at not being picked first, and definitely didn’t think Hangman of all people would be the one to do so.

“Bro,” Coyote grumbles. “No offense, Clutch, but what the fuck?"

Hangman shrugs in response, trying to maintain his poker face and not laugh out loud at the way Rooster’s jaw clenches. He knows having you on the opposite team is a huge distraction for mustache boy and well, he’d be remiss if he didn’t take advantage of Rooster’s ridiculous misty-eyed love for you, wouldn’t he?

Phoenix and Bob end up with Rooster too while Hangman manages to snag Coyote and Fanboy, punching Coyote in the shoulder for being so grumpy about not being picked first.

Not long into the game, Rooster has the ball, looking around for an open teammate and you see your opportunity.

As he knew there were no limits to your competitiveness no matter how much you complained about having to play, Hangman suggested you cover Rooster, so you’re already face to face with his very shirtless, very tanned body. You trail your hand across his abs, barely dipping your fingertips below his waistband. Subtle enough that no one else clocks what you’re up to, too consumed defending each other, but suggestive enough that Rooster’s attention snaps to you immediately.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, eyeing you suspiciously, hands still firmly planted around the ball that’s well out of your reach.

You flash the most innocent smile you can manage, “Sorry, babe, you just look so good. Couldn’t help myself.”

He beams down at you, completely disarmed and blushing a little despite his best efforts to maintain a healthy level of skepticism.

“Am I making it hard for my girl to concentrate?” He teases, arms faltering slightly.

“Something like that,” you grin, like the cat that got the cream, before taking advantage of his momentary lapse in judgment to snatch the ball out of his hands, swiftly turning and throwing it straight to Hangman by the makeshift endzone. He sprints through, throwing the ball to the ground in victory.

“And that,” Hangman shouts, practically banging his chest, “is why you’re never stupid enough to pick Clutch second, fellas!”

“Ruthless,” Rooster feigns hurt across his tanned features, fighting a smile at your cheesy finger guns. “Didn’t know we were playing dirty.”

“What, you think this is a fuckin’ game, Bradshaw?” You taunt.

“Oh, it’s on.”

You know you have to up the ante the next time around, without the element of surprise it’ll be harder to shake him.

You absentmindedly play with the bruise forming on your hipbone before the ball is anywhere near you and you can feel his eyes raking over the spot where your fingers touch. Fighting a smile, you adjust your workout shorts next, tugging them down the inside of your thighs where they’ve ridden up, fingers dancing a little close to your hot center for the public setting, but hey, hopefully no one’s paying attention. Besides, he’s always been a sucker for your legs, evident by how much time he spends between them. By the time he’s done staring and lifts his eyes to yours you’re smirking.

“Bradshaw, my eyes are up here.”

He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed, instead meeting your gaze with that filthy glint in his eyes. It takes everything in you to remain focused on the task at hand. You’re supposed to be sidetracking him, not the other way around.

You manage to sneak around him and catch the ball as Fanboy throws it your way, but you’re a little too far from the endzone to make a break for it without Rooster catching up to you. His dog tags are reflecting in the sunlight, resting against his hard chest and you smile, leaning in to grab them with your free hand.

Pulling him towards you by his chain so you can keep these words between the two of you, you adopt a comically casual tone, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if you choked me with these, babe, I mean your big hands are more than enough but—”

“Nope," Rooster cuts you off tersely as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder before marching in the direction of the parking lot.

You giggle, arching your back to toss the ball towards the group as best you can while still mostly upside down, and throw them a sloppy two finger salute, “See y’all later.”

“You guys are the worst!” Phoenix shouts after you and everyone yells in agreement.

He doesn't set you down until you're in the parking lot, immediately pulling you back against his front.

“You’re gonna pay for teasing me like that, princess,” he breathes in your ear, right hand sliding up your chest and to your neck as his left digs for his car keys.

“Oh no,” you drawl sarcastically, “That wasn’t what I was aiming for whatsoever.”

He can’t help but chuckle, even with his hand practically engulfing your throat you’re still playing him like a fiddle, teasing and pushing his buttons until he aches to put you in your place. He knows exactly what you’ve been playing at, but he still can’t help his primal response to it.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna wipe that bratty little smirk right off your pretty face.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you respond cheekily. “Was just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend all day. Always makes me smile, how beautiful he is.”

His fingers tighten almost unconsciously at his rank tumbling out of your delicate lips. And now it’s his turn to smirk, as he hears your breath hitch and feels you grind back onto his growing bulge. He unlocks the car and pulls the passenger side door open with his free hand, turning you around for a searing kiss before picking you up and setting you in his Bronco. He buckles you in, and you roll your eyes at the babying gesture, still in a fiery mood.

Shooting you a warning look for the eye rolling, Rooster gets in the other side and you begin running your hand up his arm, stopping to appreciate his bicep flexing as he turns the keys in the ignition. It’s almost innocent, really, but he sees right through you.

“No touching me or yourself until we get home.”

He bites back a laugh at your pout and settles his hand on your knee as he starts to drive. Which, you find out quickly, is much worse than not being touched at all, although you imagine that’s purposeful. He always knows how to wind you up while barely lifting a finger. You feel his hand burning on your leg, rubbing affectionate circles just south of where you want it. You shift in the passenger seat and the movement subtly urges his hand up your thigh, thinking he won’t notice as his eyes are decidedly fixed on the road.

As soon as he pulls up to a red light, he immediately removes his hand from your thigh to grab your jaw roughly and pull you into a kiss.

“You have to learn to be patient, baby. Keep trying to rush me and I won’t touch you at all,” he mutters against your lips. “Be a good girl for me.”

Your breathing shallows and you nod, both of you knowing as soon as that phrase comes out, you’re done for.

You’re crawling out of your skin by the time he pulls up to the house, mind on an endless loop of please touch me, kiss me, please do something, anything.

“I hope you remember your colors, because if I don’t hear the word red I’m not stopping,” he promises darkly, possessive hand around the back of your neck as he leads you into the house and to the bedroom.

He all but throws you on the bed, making quick work of your clothes. Stepping back and taking his time with his own while he admires you, naked and squirming for him. He watches patiently as your thighs press together, hands fisting in the comforter.

What feels like eons later, he settles on the bed, pushing your legs apart to fit his wide frame between them. Peppering kisses up the inside of your thighs, he refuses to put his mouth where you really want it.

You whimper in frustration and Rooster snickers at your exasperation before licking a stripe up your dripping wet slit. The sound that comes out of your mouth is positively filthy, doubling in volume when he slips one of those thick fingers in without warning.

“Fuck, baby,” It’s his turn to groan now. “You’re so wet. Surprised you didn’t soak through those tiny little things you call shorts.”

“Thought I was going to, been ready for you all day,” you grit out.

As much as you love his mouth on you, it’s not what you need right now as your cunt is aching to be filled. You untangle your fingers from the comforter to pull him up by the shoulders and attach your lips to his. Reaching down to palm his hard cock, you run your thumb across the slit that’s leaking with precum. He drops his head to your shoulder, panting as his control wavers.

“Need you in me,” you beg between kisses. “Please.”

You immediately wish you hadn’t said anything when raises his head to look at you, pupils blown but with newfound resolve and a smug grin on his lips.

“Greedy,” he teases, taking your hands from his cock and lifting your arms above your head.

He easily pins both wrists down with one hand, while the other traces down your body, taking his time palming your tits one by one, touching your hipbones with surprising gentleness, before settling between your legs once more. His fingers slide through your wet folds, pad of his thumb circling your clit and your head falls back against the pillows, body arching at the feeling.

He’s building you up, exactly how he knows you like, your inner walls already beginning to shake with anticipation, clenching around nothing as you get closer to the edge.

And then suddenly, he pulls his fingers away and you want to cry with how quickly you feel your climax disappearing into thin air.

“You’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you baby girl? You’d do anything to get my cock in that needy pussy.”

“Yes sir,” you whine submissively, even surprising yourself at how desperate you sound.

“No more Bradshaw and babe now, huh,” he mocks your cheeky tone from earlier. “Told you I’d fuck that bratty attitude right out of you.”

You wish you had the wherewithal to come up with a witty response about how he hasn’t even fucked you yet and could he get to it already, you really do. But before you can formulate half a thought, he’s finally pushing his thick member into you and no matter how many times the two of you do this you always, always forget how much he stretches you. How each time you wonder if he’s going to fit.

The only indication he gives that he’s as affected by this as you are is that there’s no time to adjust to his size before he’s thrusting, hard and fast and rough. It’s right on the line between pleasure and pain.

The moment he swipes the pad of his thumb over your bundle of nerves again you’re close, embarrassingly close. You feel your body tensing, winding tighter and tighter.

“Please, I’m so close, please let me come.”

You’re pushing hard against the grip he has on your wrists, to no avail.

He smiles against your skin, nipping at your neck before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“No.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes as he pulls away the hand that was on your clit, slowing his pace to an unbearable speed and you feel your peak slipping farther and farther away.

“Please, Roos—" you start, trying to pull him closer with your legs.

“You know my name, princess,” he growls, pulling back.

“Bradley,” you moan, the hard edges in his words sending another wave of heat through you. “Sir—plea—I need—harder, faster. Ohmy god, please.”

You’re barely coherent and the evil part of him wants to push further, to see how long he can keep you like this, if he can make you lose your words completely.

He completely ignores your pleas, releasing your wrists so he can run both his hands down your body, stopping again to rub circles around the bruises on your hipbones.

“You think they’d believe me? If I told everyone how needy you are for me?”

You don’t answer, can’t answer because all you can think is please, harder, more. Instead, you’re gripping his biceps for dear life, mind still reeling from how infuriatingly slow he’s fucking into you.

“The team would never expect strong, hard-headed Clutch could act like this. Putty in my hands, whining and begging for me like a depraved slut.”

A loud moan leaves your mouth at that and he rewards you by picking up the pace, putting his weight behind his thrusts again. You’re staring up at him with glazed eyes, mouth parted and breathy mewls coming out in a constant stream as he continues.

“Seresin definitely wouldn’t. Can you imagine if I told him how pretty you look fucked out and dumb for my cock? He’d probably think I was lying, thinks you dominate the hell outta me. If only he knew the truth.”

You clench around him involuntarily and he smirks when he sees the blush rising on your cheeks.

“God, I do love having you all to myself, but it seems selfish not to share someone as perfect as you, darlin’.”

You tuck your face in his neck, unable to meet those playful dark eyes. He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your ass into the air and sliding back into you in one smooth motion.

He’s hitting that spot deep inside you, and you shove your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. You feel fingers tangle in your hair, tugging and arching your back as he pulls you up towards his chest, pace unrelenting. Bradley slides that big hand up around to your neck again, finally getting to pound you from behind like he wanted to outside of his Bronco. That seems like days ago, now. His other hand is circling your clit, quickly bringing you right to the brink once more.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock like the little slut you are.”

You feel like a rubber band, pushed to its limits and snapped. White-hot pleasure courses through you, finally releasing all the tension in your body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” Bradley’s breath is hot in your ear. You barely register his praise, still shaking. “Wanna come inside your tight pussy and fill you up.”

You can’t help the obscene noises spilling out of your mouth, even louder than before as he continues to fuck you, relentless, while you try to come down from your high. It’s overwhelming, his thick length pounding your trembling, slick walls. His grip impossibly tight on your hip as he empties in you. The warmth is spreading inside, your walls spasming weakly at the feeling of fullness. He keeps his hands on you as he softens, fingers starting their dance in maddening circles on your overstimulated bundle of nerves.

“S’too much,” you slur, head falling back on his shoulder.

If you weren’t in such a daze you might be impressed on how he’s managed to make it his mission to continue ruining you only moments after his own climax. He’s completely supporting your weight, any sense of self-preservation having left you long ago.

He shifts, pulling out and you try not to whine too loudly at the empty feeling. You momentarily think he’s done with his torture, but then he lays you down on your back and puts his lips right to your center, fingers pushing his cum back inside you as it tries to drip out.

“No,” he lifts his head to say again, and you hate how that always sends a wave of heat right to your core. “You begged and begged to come. I’m just giving you what you wanted baby."

“Dunno,” you shudder, “if I can take anym—Bradley pleas—”

“You can.”

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone.

“You’ve been such a good girl. I know you can come again. Just one more and I’ll give you a break.”

He’s making lazy circles with his tongue, his pace the only indication there exists a fiber of mercy in his being.

Your skin feels tight as his praise washes over you. He’s fucking you with his fingers now, curling them while slowly increasing his onslaught on every nerve in your body through his touch to your core. You can’t help but grab his wrist, trying to pull him away from you as he blurs the line between pleasure and pain. You’re shaking uncontrollably and shouting his name, as you come again, sure you’re going to black out.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he whispers as you clench around his fingers. He’s kissing your jaw, lips, forehead.

He gently pulls his hand away and wraps his arms around you, holding you through the aftershocks.

“You’re perfect, baby. Did so well for me.”

You smile up at him a few minutes later as he gently puts a water bottle to your lips. Ever the gentleman, you think, even after he’s absolutely wrecked you.

“We have to wash the sheets and comforter,” Rooster complains jokingly, when he’s pretty sure your mind is mostly functioning again. “There’s sand everywhere.”

“Yeah, you should get right on that, Lieutenant,” you mumble, planting your face in his chest.

He reaches out to tickle your sides lightly, “Maybe this Lieutenant will order you to do it for him.”

“It’s so cute you think you’re in charge,” you yawn, rolling over and settling in, clearly not making a move to get up.

Rooster rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to take the bait this time, instead pulling you tighter.

#rooster top gun #rooster smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster fic #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #rooster imagine #top gun #rooster fanfic #Bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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whatsmymeme · 10 months

Text

Why Do You Care?

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Request: Can I request an imagine with Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw? I have always loved those rebellious type of people in stories. Can you write an imagine where you're assigned to work together with Bradley, but you two are always at each others throats. The time comes and you take a missile for him. You eject in time and as you're packing up your parachute, Bradley comes up to you and absolutely freaks out. Of course, it's because he cares and loves you ;) Thanks!

Warning(s): Language

Authors Note: I love it! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.3K

"There is no way in hell that I'm working with this asshole!" You shouted, denying it loudly. "He's going to kill me before the enemy even attacks!"

"Gladly," Bradley responded snottily. "You don't know even know how to fly worth a shit."

"How old are you both?" Pete asked sternly. You both fell quiet but continued to glare daggers at each other. "Exactly. Shut up. Put aside your differences and work together. This mission requires the skills you both obtain."

"That's funny that you think that [Y/N] has skills-"

"Rooster!" Pete interrupted impatiently. Bradley immediately shut his mouth. You smirked at him, teasing him for being called out by Pete. "Now, gear up and get in your jets!"

You both nodded and rolled your eyes at each other before departing to go get geared up. As you were gearing up, Natasha sparked a conversation with you. You two had a good discussion, but at the end of it, she mentioned the name of the man you despised.

"So is there a reason you and Rooster are constantly bickering like a married couple?" Natasha asked curiously. You fake gagged. Natasha chuckled. "You know, I think that Maverick put you two together because-"

"Say so more Phoenix," You interrupted, putting your hand up. "I don't need to be throwin' up before this mission."

"Oh come on," Natasha sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's obvious that Rooster has the hots for you."

"He had the hots for my sister growing up," You revealed, feeling disgusting inside. "But it's quite obvious that all he cares about is himself. I've hated him ever since he broke her heart."

"Well, that explains your side, but why does Rooster have it out for you too?"

"When I get revenge, I get revenge." You clearly stated, making Natasha smile. "Anyways, let's get situated. We have people to save. Well, unless it's Bradley."

Natasha smirked. "Sure [Y/N]. You keep tellin' yourself that."

»»-----　♡　-----««

"[Y/N]." You heard Bradley call out as you approached your jet, passing Bradley. You clearly heard him, but you ignored him and continued walking. Bradly huffed in annoyance. "[Y/N]!" Bradley shouted louder. You continued to ignore him. Bradley clenched his jaw in irritation. "[Y/N]! I'M TALKING TO YOU DAMN IT!!!"

His voice was so boisterous, it caught the attention of everyone who was there. You came to a halt and inhaled deeply before turning around to face him. Bradley approached you and told you specific instructions as he reached you. You just kept looking everywhere except him, showing him how much you 'cared'

"You know, it's really rude to not look at the person who is talking to you," Bradley angrily confronted. You dramatically looked back into his eyes and fluttered your eyes multiple times. He wasn't very amused by your sarcastic gesture. "I just want you safe [Y/N]. Don't do anything stupid out there."

Your eyebrows furrowed as he said those words to you. It was as if...He cared. Bradley stormed off before you could point out his out-of-the-blue kindness toward you. You shook those thoughts out of your head and re-focused your attention back on the mission. You had a mission to complete and you had a partner to complete it with.

»»-----　♡　-----««

The tensions were high. You and Bradley only had one more pilot jet to take care of. You were out of ammo but had one more shot for flares. You and Bradley were yelling at each other as you kept each other safe. You watched as Bradley successfully hit the pilot, but before you celebrated, you noticed that the pilot had launched a missile before going down.

The missile was going straight toward Bradley. You yelled at Bradley that he had a missile coming toward him.

"Shit! I don't have anymore flares!" Bradley shouted in panic. "Maybe I can-"

"I can't believe I'm doing this," You muttered to yourself, preparing yourself to take the missile for him. You pressed the buttons and started flying toward him. You put your thumb on the button, but unexpectedly, the missile hit you before you pressed the button. "Shit!"

Your head was spinning as your jet was going downward. It was already a bad situation, but having Bradley screaming in your headset was making it even worse. You needed to focus to get your jet back, but it wasn't long until you figured out that you couldn't. You cursed before you pulled the eject button.

»»-----　♡　-----««

Thankfully, you landed smoothly. Technically, the mission was a success. All the enemy pilots were gone and you survived as well as Bradley. As you were getting out of your parachute, you started getting it back into the bag. You perked up as you heard footsteps rapidly approaching you. You dropped what you were doing and turned around.

It was Bradley! He was running up to you...and he wasn't stopping. You were struck with confusion as he got closer. He was fuming.

"Roos-"

Before you could finish your words Bradley shoved you straight to the ground, the impact of his motion caused you to slide a little bit. You were grateful the suit kept you from getting the wind knocked out of you. You were sure it would've been if you weren't wearing all the gear that you were. As you were looking at the sky, it was immediately replaced with the face of an unhappy Bradley.

He towered over you and pointed down at you. "YOU ASSHOLE!!!"

"What?!" You shouted, climbing back up to your feet. You pointed your finger at Bradley. "I saved your LIFE dickhead!"

"YOU ALMOST DIED!"

"WHY DO YOU CARE?!" You screamed back, instantly realizing you really did bicker with Bradley like he was your husband. Bradley paused and seemed to have the look like he had been caught about something. "You may not care about my family, but I care about yours. I don't want your family to know that their son won't return home."

"Of course, I care about your damn family! That's why I left your sister!" Bradley shouted. You lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Bradley groaned in aggravation, running his hands through his hair in distress. "[Y/N] I LOVE YOU!!!"

As those four words echoed clearly through the blue sky, you couldn't remove your gaze from his. You've always wondered what it would be like if someone admitted they loved you, but you never pictured it to be in the middle of the woods and him screaming it at you angrily. You put your finger up to him, indicating that you had to process what he had just said.

Bradley didn't want to wait for another second and continued. "[Y/N]. The moment I met your sister, I fell in love. But the moment I met you, I truly fell in love. You were different. You made me feel things that I've never felt with any other woman in my life."

"Rooster, I don't-"

"I broke up with your sister because she knew that I had feelings for you," Bradley interrupted, throwing you into an even deeper pit of confusion. "I'm an honest man. I didn't want to hurt your sister and I knew keeping secrets from her was going to do that."

"What are you even talking about? You still hurt her! Her heart was broken!"

"Well of course it's going to be broken! Breaking up isn't easy [Y/N]! Mine was broken for months too," Bradley claimed. "But we're both on good terms now. She is still a great woman and she will find that man who will treat her better than I did."

You crossed your arms and removed your gaze from him. You didn't even know what to think about this situation, but you didn't feel against it. Bradley sighed and copied your position.

"This is not how I imagined confessing my love for you."

You raised your eyes back up at Bradley who was staring at the ground. "You really love me?"

Bradley slowly raised his eyes up to meet with you. He gave you a small smile. "Yes. I do. I love you [Y/N]."

"Damn it. Natasha was right," You muttered. "I owe her twenty dollars now."

»»-----　♡　-----««

Thanks for reading!

I do not own this GIF. Credit goes to the owner!

My Wattpad

#imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #fanfiction #top gun fandom #pete mitchell #tom cruise #natasha trace #phoneix #monica barbaro #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller

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sorchathered · 3 months

Text

Hey Jealousy

My submission for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month, everyone say thank you @attapullman 😂

Pairing-Bob Floyd x Reader

Rating-18+ MINORS EFF OFF, this is my first ever smut and it’s a little clunky so y’all be gentle with me 🥹😬

Warnings-language, sexual content (again minors fuck off), drinking, dirty dirty smut.

Summary- After a successful mission the squad joins together for the annual Navy Gala in San Diego, Bob has been hung up on you for months but too afraid to bite the bullet. What happens when someone on the squad decides to push his buttons? Will the green eyed monster rear its ugly head and bring you two together?

As always like, reblog, comment! I crave validation and love the feedback 😂

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He’s nursing his beer across the room at his table with payback and rooster and between the look on his face and the white knuckle grip he has on his bottle anyone can tell he’s coming unraveled at the seams. You walked in earlier tonight arm and arm with his front seater Phoenix, both of you opting out of wearing your uniforms to the Navy Gala and wearing formal gowns instead. Honestly he wished he could say he even remembered what Phoenix was wearing because all he can do is gawk at the floor length red dress you have on, tight in all the right places and catching the eye of just about anyone with a pulse.

Like clockwork Hangman saunters up to the group, quick to open his big mouth to say what’s on everyone’s mind. “Damn baby on board, your girl over there is getting all sorts of attention, you might better make your move before someone else slides in and takes her home.” He wiggles his eyebrows winking in Bob’s direction, knowing he’s gotten under his skin.

“She’s not mine Seresin, we’re just friends which I know you’re well aware.” He snarls, very much out of his character and they all take notice. He doesn’t know how much more he can take of this, currently watching Yale drone at you about something stupid by the bar, he’s running his hand down your arm clearly making you antsy judging by your body language. It seems like every available guy on his team decided to ogle you like you’re just a pretty face; rather than the most perfect woman to walk the earth. Bob’s normally steadfast composure is almost non existent listening to the shit they keep spewing. Sure it’s all mostly above board and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye over it, but selfishly Bob wants to sling his jacket over your shoulders and drag you home so he can keep all the prying eyes from looking at what he wishes was his.

Hangman calls his bluff immediately, knows all too well that sweet little Bob Floyd isn’t as demure as everyone thinks. He’s seen the way he looks at you when no one else is looking, whether you know it or not that man is hook, line, and sinker 100 percent yours.

So Jake decides to poke the bear. It’s too easy really, he knows Bob’s been pining for months (let’s face it the poor boy doesn’t have a poker face) so maybe just a little bit of needling is what the WSO needs to find his backbone.

“Well” he drawls, shoving himself up from the table with a nod in your direction, “You won’t mind if I shoot my shot then. She looks good enough to eat tonight and I for one am starving.” Payback and Rooster both audibly cringe, they know he’s laying it on thick and you’d never give him the time of day, but Bob doesn’t. At least not for sure. In fact he looks rather green around the ears now, slightly panicked that the small chance he had deluded himself into thinking he had is vaporizing the second Hangman saunters over to the open bar. Rooster shoots him a sympathetic glance, poor kid needs to just bite the bullet he thinks but he can’t help but be mildly amused at the shitstorm that Hangman is about to start.

You’re almost relieved to see him honestly, you and Jake have always been good friends, both being from the south and having a deep appreciation for college football. If you have to listen to Yale drone on about his stupid deep sea fishing trip while he tries to cop a feel for much longer you might break one of his fingers. Maybe all of them.

“Hangman!” You usher him over, scooting him between you and Yale’s unwanted touches, all too grateful for the intrusion.

Yale looks over at Jake, annoyed and about to open his mouth but Jake waves him off like a pesky fly and he excuses himself, probably off to find his next victim, knows better than to even attempt an argument with Hangman.

“Oh my God thank you, I thought he’d never leave me alone! I can only be nice for so long and I was just about ready to tell him to fuck off.”

“Manners little lady, for someone who looks like a princess this evening you sure do have a mouth on you,” he throws his head back and laughs at your discomfort, he knows you aren’t at ease in this setting at all, calling the bartender over to get you another jack and coke.

“So tell me Y/N, when are you gonna let baby on board off the hook and tell him you’re ready to go steady with him?”

You sputter out a gasp as you accidentally inhale a little of your drink, quick to clear your throat and throw daggers up at Hangman with your stare.

“First of all, you know I can’t stand it when you make fun of him, second of all how much have you had to drink tonight? I think you might have hit your limit if you think Bob is even remotely interested in me.”

He just pats you on the hand now, almost condescendingly.

“Wanna make a wager on that? Because I guarantee you sugar, Glasses over there is head over boots and I bet I can make him just jealous enough to finally admit that he’s got the hots for you.”

You link your arm in his and pivot him towards the dance floor. “Fine, you’ve got a deal, and when I prove you wrong you have to wear an Alabama jersey at the Hard Deck next weekend and tell everyone Roll Tide!” You erupt into giggles at Jake’s look of disgust, but a deal is a deal and he’s nothing if not a gentleman.

Meanwhile Bob is feeling more and more off kilter, he knows he needs to just get out of his damn head and cross whatever line he’s drawn in the sand that keeps him from telling you how he feels. He’s so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice Phoenix plopping down into the vacant seat next to him.

“Uh hello? Earth to Bob?” She waves a hand over his face to snap him out of whatever trance he looks like he’s in.

“What? Huh? Oh I’m sorry Nat, I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight, I don’t feel like myself at all.” He looks absolutely miserable as he watches Jake escort you to the dance floor encircling you in his arms.

Her face softens as she looks at her WSO, knows exactly what’s got him in such a funk.

“Could it have something to do with the fact that Y/N looks like a million bucks tonight and you are coming out of your skin having to watch every guy in here try to get her to go out with them?”

His eyes go wide at her response and he feels his skin heat up and stomach lurch just thinking about someone else being with you the way he wants.

“I-I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

“I think you do, and if you were honest with yourself you’d just admit it.”

He sighs, running his hand over his face and looking up towards the dance floor, where you and Hangman are still swaying to the music, his hands dangerously low at your waist. Bob has to look away, sickly feeling in his stomach rearing its ugly head again.

Rooster leans in, he spent most of the night trying to stay out of it but it looks like his friend could use the encouragement. Sliding a shot of tequila in front of the WSO he claps him on the shoulder.

“Bob, life is too damn short. You gonna sit here all night and mope or go get your girl?”

Bob tries to anchor himself for a moment, slings the shot back, liquid courage burning through his veins as he pushes back from the table. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to let you know how he feels, if you shoot him down then that’s that. But he can’t take one more minute watching someone else get all your attention.

“Atta boy Bobby!” Phoenix crows as she and Rooster watch him weave through the crowd to you.

Jake is being very handsy, and while you’d given him permission to play things up for the bit you were losing hope fast that this would actually work. You should have never agreed to this, you knew it wasn’t true that Bob was into you; you’d all but thrown yourself at him more times than you could count and the soft spoken man had just written it off as you being an affectionate friend. Jake’s got his lips pressed right above your ear now, assuring you it won’t be much longer judging by the glare he gotten the last time he glanced at their table. The two of you sway to whatever song the dj is playing, you’re feeling so stupid now for this little stunt, as you open your mouth to tell Jake it’s time to give up the act you feel strong hands plucking you from his arms. You gasp as you are suddenly spun around, face to face with Bob. Jake blends back into the crowd with a chuckle, mission accomplished.

“Ohmygosh, wha- oh Robby hey! What’s going on? You ok?” You’re scanning his features now, he’s causally moved you both to the edge of the dance floor now, still swaying to the song and to anyone else it would look like he seamlessly cut in to dance with his friend, not at all the reality of the situation at hand, far more tense and out of character.

He’s looking down into your face now, something stormy in his features as he pulls you closer to him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I know that was rude but I just- I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“Couldn’t stand what Robby? what’s going on? You’re starting to worry me a little.”

He looks so on edge, it hurts your heart to know something’s troubling him so you squeeze his arm that’s around your waist, giving him the encouragement to go on.

“Can-can we go outside and talk? I promise I’m not trying to get out of it I just don’t want to do this here.”

You nod and take his hand, letting him lead you from the ballroom and out into the courtyard of the fancy hotel the gala was being held.

The second you hit the open air his body is pressed to yours, running his hand through your hair at the base of your neck to pull your faces together, rubbing his nose gently against yours.

“I need you to tell me this is all in my head” he gasps, eyes wild, “I would die if I ever made you feel uncomfortable but God- I gotta know if you feel the same way Y/N, I don’t think I can keep going like this anymore. Everyone keeps telling me that you feel the same but I can’t- I can’t…” he shakes his head trying to get his thoughts together, anxiety pooling in his stomach at the thought that this is going wrong.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling him so close with his hands running over your sides and his lips against yours is like heaven, it makes it downright impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence. So you opt for showing him rather than telling, gripping his bicep with one hand and stroking his jaw with the other, you lean up and press your lips to his, first one, then two soft kisses. He groans into your mouth now, a noise so delicious you need him to do it again immediately.

The damn breaks and it’s like a wildfire now, hands roaming everywhere mouths panting hot open filthy kisses as his tongue slides in to massage yours. The only thought in your head is his name, Robby Robby Robby. Making out like a bunch of teenagers grinding up against each other in the dark, you feel him slide his thigh between your legs into the side slit of your dress, just a taste of the friction you need but not nearly enough. You know you ought to stop, anyone could walk out and catch you but it’s just oh so good. You could slap yourself for taking this long to have him like this, cursing all the nights you went home to your toys thinking of him when you could have been doing this all along.

Reluctantly you pull back and take a deep gasping breath, chests heaving and fighting for air. You grin up at him now, and he flashes you a crooked smile that turns your limbs to jelly.

“If I had known all I had to do was get you a little bit jealous to finally make a move I have to admit I would have done that a hell of a lot sooner.”

He guffaws at that, looks so much more at ease, the sound one of the best things you’ve ever heard. “Darlin’ all it took was you in this dress to turn me into putty in your little hands, I’ve been a downright fool for waiting this long. I’m so stupidly in love with you.”

His words warm you from the inside out, and you press soft kisses to his neck, whispering into his skin-

“I love you so much Robby, always have.”

You two stumble back into the ballroom a little worse for wear and make a beeline for your table so you can grab your stuff. Everyone on the team takes the two of you in, flushed cheeks and mussed up hair, Bob’s got lipstick smeared on his chin near his lips and you don’t feel a bit embarrassed by the shocked looks you are given as you swiftly snatch your purse up and bid everyone goodbye, bubbly giggles erupting from you as Bob swats at your backside trying to get you to hurry up and get to his truck. He’s the only one taking you home tonight and if he has anything to say about it every night for the foreseeable future.

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The line between the two of you is non existent now, you are trying your best to let him be a safe driver but Jesus H Christ you just want him everywhere.

He can tell you are literally buzzing with need, shaky hands pawing at his thigh and abs while leaning across the console to suck a mark next to his Adam’s apple. He’s trying his damndest to not pull over on the side of the highway and take you right here, but he wants this to be perfect. Just as your hand goes to slide between his legs he snatches both wrists up in one of his giant hands. You look at him with shock covering your features, he didn’t even look away from the road as he swatted your hands and placed them in your lap. His voice is deeper than normal, eyes still laser focused on the road in front of him. Man’s a stealth pilot after all.

“Sweetheart I need you to keep those pretty hands to yourself, I’m not fucking you in the front seat of the truck for our first time. We gotta do this right ok sugar? Just be patient a little longer.”

Oh. OH. You can confidently say you’ve never been more turned on in your entire life.

Finally, mercifully after what seems like a million years (it was the longest 5 minutes of your life), you pull up to your little beach condo. Stepping out of the truck on shaky legs into his waiting arms is a feat, you’ve never needed someone so badly in your life. He holds you close, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses the top of your head.

“We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t want to baby-“ there he is, suddenly your shy unsure boy, no need to second guess himself but always worrying about others.

You wish you could be bothered to be embarrassed for the way you all but launched yourself at him, fingers carding through his hair to grip at the short ends at the base, sliding your tongue into his mouth and begging him to take you to bed.

It was all he needed to flip the switch, ushering you into your house, the moment the door is shut he presses you into the door, nimble fingers working at the zipper on the back of your dress while he presses sloppy kisses to your chest. The dress pools at your feet and he pulls in air through his nose and moans at the realization that underneath your gown you were only wearing what he would consider the smallest piece of fabric known to mankind and calling it underwear. You are convinced the room is spinning, heat rising up your body as you clumsily work in tandem with him to rid him of his own clothes, tossing the jacket of his dress whites on your couch as you begin to move him forward to your bedroom.

He grips the sides of your thighs and tells you to jump into his arms, blindly going down the hall until he stops right at the edge of your bed.

Letting you slide down his body you immediately hit your knees, making quick work of his belt buckle, he looks almost dazed now, leans his hand down to tilt your face to him, deep blue eyes roaming over your exposed skin.

“My sweet girl, look at you. Such a pretty little thing, you gonna let me have your mouth?” He drawls, his accent thicker than normal and you have to squeeze your thighs together just thinking about what’s to come.

You melt into his touch, fingers dancing along the edge of his boxers, and nod your head. You lean in to nuzzle your face into him, hot and heavy against your cheek and revel in the noises he makes above you.

You decide you don’t have it in you to tease him tonight, it’s been such a long time coming and you’d be lying if you haven’t come undone in the quiet of your room thinking about this exact moment. You rake your nails down his abs, make quick work to rid him of his pants and underwear, realizing very quickly that the locker room talk the boys have engaged in isn’t just talk. He’s definitely got plenty to brag about, but you had always thought the guys were just teasing him when they said he was huge.

You wrap your fingers around him now, looking back up at him as you lean in to swirl your tongue over his tip. Sliding his hand up into your hair he winds it around his hand a little and pulls you forward, you immediately open your mouth fully to take more of him, tongue flattening and letting him take what he wants from you. You know he’d never hurt you, that’s the thing about your line of work, you have to have complete trust in each other to keep your team safe. This though, letting him have complete control and telling him you love him through your actions; it’s like a promise.

He continues shallowly thrusting into your mouth, grunting filthy praises, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you are to him. He pulls back just when it becomes too much and kneels to scoop you up in his arms, laying you gently on the bed just taking you in. He still can’t quite believe that this is really happening, convinced he’ll wake up any second now. You make grabby hands at him now and he huffs out a laugh, crawling up the bed into your arms as you pull him on top of you.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted someone this much, sex with other partners has almost always been about the other person, usually with you faking it and taking care of yourself later. Having him this way is like a drug, you know all the fantasies you’ve concocted have nothing on just how good he feels. You try to push yourself into him, let him know you want him to take you but he stills your movements. You let out a whine, looking up at him with pouty lips and he kisses it away with a smile. “I don’t know how you’ve been doing this in the past but baby I’ve got my own set of rules here. Now I’ll give you what you want, I promise but you gotta let me get you ready first. You gotta let me taste ya and cum for me and then you can have my cock, can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You blink at him, jaw going slack, completely blown away. You’re pretty sure you are wetter than the pacific and he hasn’t even really touched you yet. This man is going to be the death of you for sure.

You grasp his face and moan into his mouth as you kiss him deeply, nipping at his lower lip to elicit more noises from him. Pulling you back a little he rubs his nose with yours and gives you a quick wink before making his descent down your body, pink tongue pokes out to lave at your sternum while he massages your breasts in his hands. “You are so perfect everywhere baby but God these tits…I could stay right here all day if you’d let me.” He pulls a nipple between his teeth and you nearly jolt off the bed, grinding yourself down onto his thigh as he continues his torture. “Robby” you gasp, fighting for air and purchase on the bed, tangling your fingers in the sheets as you continue to buck up onto his leg. He pulls back and quirks an eyebrow at you, clearly amused at just how needy you’ve become for him already. “What is it baby girl? Use your words, tell me what you want.”

“I need- I need your mouth on me, please I want it so bad Robby” you babble at him, you can’t even bother to be ashamed at how ridiculous you probably sound, somewhere deep in your mind you know he’s probably eating it up, smug bastard.

He shushes you and runs his hands over your breasts and stomach, slides down to the apex of your thighs and spreads them wide. “I’ve got you sugar, I’ve got ya.” And finally, blessedly he dives in, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your throbbing clit, swirling his tongue around it and sucking harshly. You arch yourself up into his face, gasping roughly as you reach down to grip his hair, attempting to close your legs around him but he holds you down, eating at you like it’s his last meal.

Moans vibrating directly into your pussy and you aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or to it, but Jesus if you’d known he could talk dirty and eat pussy like this you might not have waited so long to make him yours. He’s sliding his ring and middle finger inside of you now, and oh if this is how good it feels from his fingers you might die when you finally get him inside you. The noises bouncing off your bedroom walls are obscene, moans coming from you both and the lewd wet smacks from his lips and tongue.

“Doin’ so good for me love, taste so damn sweet” he rasps and begins to crook his fingers into that place you can never seem to quite reach yourself and suddenly you’re right there, orgasm takes you before you can even warn him, thrashing your head back and forth as you keen high in your throat and you swear you nearly black out from the euphoria. He continues fucking you with his fingers through your high, massaging your calf with his other hand. You finally come down from the haze and lean up on your elbows, grabbing his shoulders to pull him up and kiss him.

You look at him through your lashes, admiring how pretty he is. He seems to feel your gaze, cheeks and ears turning pink and you can’t help how your heart feels like it might burst at how happy you are. You lay like that for a few minutes, just kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other but you can tell Bob is more than ready for you now, pressed up against your thigh hot and heavy. You press a few kisses to the freckles scattering his cheeks before tugging his earlobe between your teeth. “I was a good girl for you Robby, want you to fuck me now baby. Need you so badly, make me yours my love”

And you know exactly what you’re doing to him, he grips your hip tightly and you see the cracks in his composure, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger he licks into your mouth turning you into a moaning mess all over again. You reach between your bodies to stroke him and he pulls back from your lips leaving you a whining mess.

“Ok, ok baby girl I know it, I’m gonna give it to you.” You give a sigh of relief reaching to pull a condom out of your nightstand, ripping the package open and rolling it down his length.

He hovers over you now, lips ghosting over yours as he slowly eases himself into your heat. You gasp as he enters you, body trembling at the sensation and grip his biceps, nails digging in sure to leave a bruise tomorrow but neither of you can be bothered to care. The stretch is so good, so so good and you feel like you might come apart again just from this. A string of curses fall from his lips and he begins to grind slowly into you, pubic bone grazing your clit with each thrust of his hips into yours.

“Oh Robby, oh baby I love you s’good baby so good, just like that” you moan into his neck and he knows you’re getting close again already, so turned on for him that you know he’s already ruined you for anyone else.

“So pretty sugar, look at you taking me so well, God I just want you like this all the time, been dreaming of fucking you like this for so long, better than I ever imagined, gonna give you everything baby God I fucking love you” He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his life, as ruined as you think you are he may just be worse.

You preen under his praise, clearly didn’t realize until just now how much it turned you on but the way you're clenching around him gives you away.

“You like when I tell you how good you are don’t you baby? Can feel how much you like it sweet girl, think you can give me another one darlin’? Want to see you make a mess all over my cock, come on beautiful girl you can do it” he coos at you as he reaches down to rub his thumb over your swollen bud, one, two, three swipes and you’re crying out, clamping down on him and cumming harder than you have in your entire life. He’s fucking you through it, letting you buck up into him and take what you need until you fall back weakly against the pillows, sucking in air in deep gulps as you try to come down. He doesn’t let you though, begins fucking you in earnest now, hips slapping into the back of your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, pulls your feet up over his shoulders and slams into you relentlessly. All you can do is just take it now, pleasure rolling off of you in waves as you cry out and you know you’re already close again.

“You got one more in you angel? Want ya to come with me this time ok? You’re so fucking good baby so good for me, pussy is so perfect like it was made to take me” he’s not even sure what he’s saying anymore just completely lost in how good it feels and how much he needs you to cum with him.

“M’ close baby, want us to go together too please please please, oh oh God!” you call out, and you know he’s on the edge too, once again gliding your slick over your clit to get you there and he’s leaning in to press his mouth to yours as you both come together, a mess of teeth and tongue clashing and it’s everything, deep guttural moans pouring from his mouth the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard. He runs his hands through your hair and presses kisses to your sweaty forehead, slowly pulling out of you to toss the condom and you whine at the loss of him.

“I’m not going anywhere baby, just give me a second so I can clean you up and I’ll be right back.”

You lay there dazed, somewhere between asleep and alert and he’s back, wiping you down gently and crawling back into bed to hold you.

Just as you both begin to doze off you press a kiss to his arm, whispering I love yous as you succumb to sleep. He’s not typically a jealous man but if the green eyed monster got you in his arms and in his bed maybe being a little jealous from time to time ain’t so bad.

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Tagging-

@attapullman

@mamachasesmayhem

@bobgasm

@roosterforme

@purelyfiction

@pinkdaisies1106

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #top gun bob #robert bob floyd x reader #international bob floyd fucks month #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction

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sweetghuleh · 4 months

Text

[cws] fem reader. older woman/younger man. cheating. mentions of smoking. mentions of drinking. part 1 maybe. unedited.

Sometimes, when someone is young, there is always a mindset where they believe life revolves all around them—where they think that simply because they are young, they automatically stand on the highest pedestal of being intelligent. In some senses, their beliefs are so wide-spread that even the individuals around them tend to fall into that black hole as well, where despite their ages, the brain has yet to mature. You were once a happy woman, married to a beautiful husband who cherished everything about you. Meeting Gojo Satoru when he was in highschool was nothing short of fate, that’s what you liked to believe back then, he was talented at everything, adored by everyone—and so immensely ethereal it was hard to fathom he was human with an appearance so pure, his skin, hair, all of it resembled the clouds that the gods sit on. He had the face that an old master would paint to decipher an angel. Back then, you were all young and stupid, you particularly, on a different level, it wasn’t clear as before, but the memories were faint, bleary, like a forgotten song of childhood, but they were still there.

Personally, you couldn't remember the changes Satoru went through during his time in highschool, where his features became a little less soft and more masculine around the edges. Well, that’s all you could remember anyways, back when you took a young Ieri Shoko as an apprentice and caught subtle glances of him. Getou Suguru thought otherwise. He was quiet then, still is, you didn’t pay as much attention to him like you did with Satoru—despite them being best friends. You had known him as the boy who always had dark shadows under his eyes, purplish, bruise-like shadows, like he was suffering from a sleepless night. Suguru had a face you’d never expect to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Suguru would entice and humor you sometimes, he’d tell you how much his best friend has changed in ways that didn’t involve his physical features, he’d tell you how he was the first to likely see the changes of how Satoru would look at you through his eyes, the ones so polished, that it felt as if the blue pigments could only be found in dreams.

Suguru would tell you, how anyone could see it through Satoru’s eyes—how much softer they’d become when he would look at you and then fall in love all over again.

You wondered, what had happened for Satoru to stop looking at you like that?

The porcelain light winked off the sting of your lashes and settled into the flesh of your partially nude body, the surface of the water in your bathtub was still as flat as a mirror, catching each intricate feature of yours—only to throw it back into your face. There was no ripple or tide, and if it weren’t for the gray lace of your cigarette filtering through the air and the ring of your phone in your opposite hand, you would have assumed that time itself had stopped.

Twenty-Six.

That was the number of times Satoru had called you since the first stars of the night. The water in the bathtub was beginning to grow cold, but the sting of gooseflesh running up the delicate skin of your body was enough to distract you from the silent buzz of your phone, to be frank, you weren’t sure if you had the guts to try and answer his frantic calls. After a quick drag of your dying cigarette, you kill it off in the glass tray beside you, watching as the fumes rose like the figure of a phoenix, and you childishly searched for any shape that could be formed with the gray, fickle smoke. Suddenly, the phone in your hands rang once again. When you were a child, there was always a side of you that allowed to choose scarily accurate guesses that always brought you something good, guesses like knowing who was about to walk through a door without hearing their footsteps, or guessing the color of a cup accurately with your eyes closed, little things like that. You didn’t have to check the caller ID in order to know who was trying to reach out to you, the soft bed of your thumb swiping across the screen.

“Hey.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper—but it was there.

The opposite end of the call was quiet for a moment, a habit Shoko had whenever she called someone over the phone—something she wasn’t too fond of doing, but she would make an exception if it ever came to you. Always you. “..So? Should I schedule you a trip to the Cayman Islands? What about Miyako?” Her voice was soft, sweet in her own loner way, like the haunting echoes of a cave that harbored sirens. Shoko had been your best friend since she worked under you, after meeting in the more secluded parts of the hospital buildings where the stressed doctors and nurses went to have a quick smoke—the two of you clicked, she followed you like a magnet chasing towards its opposite end, growing closer and closer with each breath. You hardly blinked, your hair felt heavy, crystal water drops forming around, dripping onto your skin, your complexion refracting the pale light of the bathroom—you were something that could stun anyone to their core.

“No, nothing like that.” Came your answer as manicured fingers got rid of the excess water in your hair, the water in the bathtub rippled around you like haloes as your bare legs shifted slightly. Silence graced the both of you again, and your fingers nearly trembled for another cigarette, aching, even.

“..Satoru let you go.” Shoko spoke again, so suddenly—her sudden words emphasizing the traits of her feline personality, your lips trembling for air, trying to come up with something clever to diversify the weight of devastation, but soon you realized that there are no words to dispute the feeling—calling it what it is. “Yeah.” Boundless embarrassment hooked into your chest and almost pulled it out entirely, as if the water hadn’t been cold enough, frigid heat stung painfully at your skin. The reciprocations of small breaths between Shoko’s lips had paused the minute she said this, almost as if she was captivated by your compliant statement. When you were a child, your mother always seemed to be amazed by how mature your brain seemed to be, if anything, you never believed her. It hadn’t been until high school that you truly realized just how true that statement seemed to be, back then—falling in love at the age of 17 held a kind of rarity that equated to finding rare gemstones, you thought so. When you were a teenager, you had always believed that the fragile beginnings of love was something only a few could find, mystifying around lands of infatuation until they finally found something real.

It was why you were so, so incredibly hesitant to fall in love with Satoru even years after he finished high school. Back then, the two of you were young and full of life, youthful on different levels, he was far below your age for you to consider dating him at all—he was 16, you were freshly 28. Satoru was like nature’s graffiti; beautiful yet lawless, like he was the color after a storm that embraced the gray skies with open arms. You? You were more like nature’s poetry, gentle and lithe. Like every action you performed was meant to be on the surface of the earth. Or perhaps you were an author’s finest love story. You weren’t sure yet.

Satoru barreled into your quiet, dark life like a blazing matchstick the very day he turned 21, he had a fire that made you so attentive to the dance of the flames—but you were so careful as to not to get burned, simply allured by the way he seemed to present the embers of his attitude in his tone. You’d never bothered to try and seek as to why Satoru could have been attracted to you, simply content with knowing that he valued you in some way.

So mature, right? Perhaps that was the first mistake you had made. You wished you could have traveled back in time to tell your younger—supposedly mature self, to not fall for the boy with hair as white as the first winter snows, to save yourself from a life of pain.

“What will you do now?” Shoko’s voice pulled you from the depths of reality like a savior, and you weaned off your plush bottom lip for a moment, before you allowed yourself to slink even further deeper into the frigid, cold water even more. It was almost starting to feel hot. “What do you think?” An elusive smile crawled onto your lips as you tapped the back of your head against the porcelain of the tub, taking in the relief that filled your lungs in the form of a heavy breath. It hardly helped, but it was something.

“Well, you can’t go back to him, that’s for sure.” Shoko scoffed, tapping off the excess ash from her cigarette as she spoke into the phone.

“You know I’m better than that, babe.” Your tone threatened to fall mute, only flashing a mere grin of gratitude that wasn’t quite convincing as you wanted it to be, devastation sunk right into your soul once again. You weren’t sad over the fact that you couldn’t go back to Satoru, you knew from the very deep depths of your brain that you would never go back to him no matter how much your big, golden polished heart wanted to. You were sad over the fact that it would take years to get over him, you were sad that your stupid heart blessed with the wit of a newborn angel, would likely yearn for Satoru no matter how much you know you would never have him back. Despite how much you would never take him back. Shoko spoke up once again, curiously. “Do you know the full story?” Came her question, there was slight shuffling through the other end, and you had a short feeling that she was getting ready to make her way over to ensure that you were fine. With that thought in your head, a small—short exhale escaped the plush of your lips, filtering through the air in a sweet, bell-chime manner as you helped yourself up from the bathtub. Soft flesh decorated with the crystalized droplets of water that luminated your body to an extent, tender spots pebbling as you eagerly brought a towel to your chilly self.

“I know enough. Young woman. Hormones. Something about his new secretary.”

Shoko clicked her tongue, vibrant brown hair swirling in elegance as she locked her front door expertantly, dark lashes brushing against her fragile little beauty mark. “I don’t get it. Suguru and I have known him since childhood, it’s hard to believe he would pull something like this. Especially to you.”

You grimaced, you wanted to laugh. Satoru was always a peculiar kid when you met him for the first time in your life, he being 16, you—28. You would always catch the way his eyes snaked their way around every inch of your face and chest with serpentine eagerness. You would tease him for that, too, not in a way that would initiate any romance, but how a woman would. You would magnify your lovely gaze towards him, lay a gentle finger under his chin and examine him like spectacles were placed over your gaze—forced to pile all of your raw attention to him. That’s when Satoru would crack from his sensuous facade and exhale shakily, comprehending the new feeling of a careful touch from a stunning, older woman. You could remember flashing him a gentle smile as you bid him an enigmatic farewell, leaving Satoru with a trembling bottom lip after the brush of his skin against yours. Back then, it was all playful teasing, you’d never register in your mind that he was really attracted to you. You never acted on him either until he reached out to you when he was 21.

“..I don’t blame him.” Purring into the phone as you dried yourself off, catching your elegant features on the surface of your actual mirror with a slow blink of your nova eyes. Shoko made a sort of choking sound on the other end. “Huh? Are you kidding? He’d been pining after you since his junior year of highschool, why on earth would you not blame him for cheating on you?”

You sunk your tone into a softer, more somber one and let it into the air.

“He’s still young, Shoko. It was a mistake on my end for letting it get this far.”

. ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡

Getou Suguru was quiet in most of his years in highschool, cool, calm and collected—graced with a mellow personality that charmed quiet girls without him even really trying. Always the peacemaker. Always the one to be bestowed right next to the sun that was Gojo Satoru, his forever best friend. Always there to keep the epiphany of a real angel from falling down habits that could cost him his life. Always there to help him when he seemed the lowest. Always there to clean up after his messes. Always there to listen to Satoru rant about the woman with captivating eyes.

So, how on earth was Suguru meant to clean up this mess? Only a god could tell.

Slender eyes so dark it would take millions of years for light to venture through them focused on the mess that was Satoru. Suguru sighs, his temples aching as he quietly takes a seat on a stray chair a good distance away from the young man that appeared to be intoxicated, but he knew better—he knew that Satoru was a true lightweight. Suguru listened with keen ears, slowly gazing upon the mess of chairs and shattered bottles of liquor that were likely untouched, rattled picture frames of broken memories piled into a type of center environment. Suguru reached his slender fingers for one knocked over picture frame, on the back, in neat calligraphy, wrote. “Shoko - 21 yrs old - Academy Graduation - 2011”

Suguru flipped the frame over, as described, there stood their close friend dressed in a satin, elegant blue graduation gown with her cap out of sight, holding a diploma with a small, polite smile. However, right beside Shoko, was her. Suguru could see why his best friend was so wild over her despite the years between them, she was tall, taller than any other girl they’ve seen, mature features and a body so sinful it made someone as polite as Suguru blush if he looked at her for too long. Whatever pallet the gods have used to craft her was so pristine and pearlescent, it could likely make any renaissance painter jealous. It clicked for Suguru then, this was a printed image from a collection of pictures Shoko had sent the both of them just to show that she graduated, and Satoru had likely chosen this one out of all of them due to the simple fact that she was in it. This was during the time where Satoru had finally met her in person, and became so infatuated it started bothering Suguru.

Suguru wondered if she was the last time Satoru could recognize true beauty.

Suguru could recognize the scent of sweet magnolias and clementine mixed with earthly perfume coming from articles of clothing so feminine he knew that they didn’t belong to Satoru, who had draped himself across a couch so expensive it hurt to try and think of the numbers—draped across it like he was experiencing death, holding those articles of clothing to his face as if they were the key to block out all the bad things of the world that threatened to catch him. Infinite hues of bright white light fractured the space in between the sting of his lengthy lashes, deepening the consistent hue of sapphire in his eyes. There was something always so beautiful and alluring about wanting to possess something that Satoru thought he’d never have, for him—it was her.

“Well, you sure fucked up.” Suguru hummed, his words oddly sweet-sounding despite bringing a harsh reality down onto his best friend, his voice was nearly flowery and soft—like Suguru could grow gardens of adoration from his voice alone. Vanilla and cedarwood intertwined from him, giving off a scent that is so perfectly synonymous with who he is, his slender eyes lifted to meet with Satoru’s wide ones, nebulous flecks of amethyst braided into his irises.

“..That doesn’t help.” Satoru speaks, his tone was low and careful, distant in a way that almost seemed too close. The more Suguru began to pull in the heavenly creation that was Satoru’s face, the more comfortable he became. A smile faded onto Suguru’s face. “She’s beautiful, successful—a total catch. What'cha switch her out for?” He can’t help but ask, the smile on his face of stunning Asian features, becomes pointed and untrue as he taunts his best friend with words that were more painful than any wound on earth. Satoru straightened up from where he had been previously curling away. “That—I didn’t mean to–fuck.” He stammers, making a complete fool of himself. He wasted no time in pausing, afraid he’d stop speaking all together if he did. “...I fucked up.” Satoru finally admits, quietly, a striking difference to his personality.

The blood in Satoru’s body stiffened into a painful mass in his lungs, and it was difficult trying to breathe. It was difficult admitting the truth.

Suguru’s eyes soaked in the sight of the shattered bottles of liquor and turned to look at his best friend next, raising a well-groomed brow as if to ask, ‘did you get drunk?’. At this Satoru shook his head, and without another word, he slumped against the couch once more, his face landing on a pile of her perfect clothes—drenched in her scent, one so unique he had attempted seeking it in any beauty store. Each trip was unsuccessful. Satoru didn’t need liquor to get drunk, all he needed was to drink her appearance like a glass of finely fermented wine and get tipsy off every sip. Suguru shook his head in minor disappointment, his gorgeous head of charcoal-like hair—black and straight like the night sea, following his movements. Softly, like prairie grass in the summer wind, giving contrast to his face, porcelain skin with delicate features.

“Nothing to do from here, Satoru. There’s no chance she’s going to take you back.”

[a/n]: heyyyy i had a thought of like what if satoru fell for an older woman and married her but then cheated on her for some fuck reason and then make it into something full of drama but then i got drunk and forgot the whole plot so ya make what you will with this . i might add more but idk yet so pls send requests or something

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hyliareborn · 5 months

Text

pearl’s perception of romantic relationships makes me so sad. i don’t think capcom was trying to imply that phoenix or maya ever had feelings for each other, because for one their dynamic has always been so obviously a long-suffering-older-brother-and-annoying-younger-sister thing, but aside from that they would’ve just made it canon. sure, they might’ve gotten a little flack for the creepy age gap, but not nearly as much in the early 2000’s as they would now. pairing their male lead with their female lead wouldn’t be a risk, so if capcom had wanted to do it, they would’ve.

i think the point of pearl bringing it up so much is to show that her idea of how men and women interact is very unhealthy. she was raised in, as far as we know, an all-female environment, which i don’t think is really a bad thing but in kurain the only model for “romantic” relationships she had ever seen outside of books or movies were most likely men appearing and disappearing as soon as they felt that their superiority was being threatened by the kurainese women’s powers. i think that to her, there were two options: the dysfunctional relationships she’d seen in real life, and the idealistic romances in stories.

when she met phoenix and saw that he respected maya (and the whole fey family), she thought it meant that they were in love the way people in fairytales were in love. maybe she insisted that phoenix and maya were soulmates because she was scared that phoenix would leave the way every other man she’d ever known (or heard of) eventually did. maybe it isn’t that deep at all and i’m just being stupid. like and follow if you think i need to go outside

#ace attorney

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krmy2386 · 1 year

Text

Eau de Parfume

Bob Floyd x Reader

PLEASE DON’T STEAL!!!

Be kind❤️

WARNINGS: Mentions of deployment (I know nothing about actually military so this may be wrong.). Accusations of cheating. Fluffy ending🥰

Word Count: 1976

A/N: I know I promised this a while ago and I am SO sorry for the delay. Basically my home life has been VERY stressful and I’m going through it😅.

Y/N was devastated.

He was cheating on her. Bob of all people!

How could he? How could sweet, adorable and loving Bob do this?!

Granted Y/N had no solid proof, but she had her suspicions for a few weeks now.

He had been very distant recently. Whenever Y/N would ask him, ‘How was your day?’ over dinner he would no longer go into heavy detail about who was where, what was said, sometimes even mentioning the temperature of whatever room he was in. But now he would only give one word responses and leave as soon as dinner was over. It had been weeks since he spent tonight at her apartment.

Y/N’s second clue, was that the Dagger squad was acting weird as well. When the group went out recently the entire team all basically ignored her. No harmless flirting from Hangman. Or gossip with Fanboy and Payback. Even Rooster couldn’t bring himself to look at her, and Y/N considered herself to be closest to him out of all of them. ‘They must all know,’ she thought to herself. ‘They must all know but are too scared or too loyal to Bob to say anything.

The third, and most damning, piece of evidence was a bottle of perfume she found on Bob’s bathroom sink.

It wasn’t hers.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Bob thought he was going to combust everyday since Cyclone broke the news. They were being deployed.

It would be six months, at least, and basically no communication.

This wouldn’t be Bob’s first time being shipped out to the middle of the ocean. But it would be Y/N’s first time having to send him off. That thought was what was driving Bob insane.

He didn’t know how to tell Y/N. He didn’t know how she would react.

Would she leave him? Would she wait for him? He knew she loved him but it was a big ask of someone. To basically put their life on hold for you.

Bob already knew he would be in trouble for waiting until the last minute to tell her. They left in three days. Bob had known for three weeks and instead of preparing the love of his life for the hardest test of their relationship, he hid it from her.

‘Oh God!’ He thought, ‘She should leave me just for being so stupid!’

Everyday he thought about telling her. He would sit down with the rest of the Dagger team, all of whom had told their loved ones already, and they would attempt to coach him on what to say.

Phoenix suggested that he should simply sit Y/N down and tell her like an adult. Bob felt like the metaphorical ship had already sailed on that one.

Hangman suggested he tell her during sex. Bob had to admit this was a tempting suggestion. The only problem was he could barely look Y/N in the eye these past few days, let alone make a move.

Poor Rooster just begged Bob to tell her. Blurt it out if he had to, but put Bradley out of his misery. He was a horrible secret keeper and it was killing him knowing something so important and not being able to tell Y/N.

Finally, Maverick told Bob that if he didn’t tell Y/N himself then he would take matters into his own hands. Bob knew Maverick was serious. That man feared nothing, not even the wrath of Bob’s girlfriend.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Y/N sat on the couch holding the bottle. She had been intensely staring at it for 20 minutes. She was meant to be cooking dinner.

Despite being ignored by the entire team, it was Maverick who finally called her that afternoon. He said he couldn’t go into detail but the team was undergoing some intense training. He said he was calling all of the members' partners and family to let them know that the team was under a lot of stress.

Hearing this made Y/N feel relieved, maybe that was the cause of all of this. She decided to surprise Bob by cooking his favorite dinner and maybe they could simply talk out whatever was going on. At least that was the plan until Y/N went to wash up before cooking.

She went into the bathroom and saw the bottle sitting on the sink. It was very obviously not her perfume. The perfume she wore was an, admittedly cheap, light and sweet fragrance that came in a simple yellow bottle. This new bottle was black with pink accents and even looked expensive. Y/N wasn’t a huge fan of most perfumes. She actually didn’t care that much for hers. Ironically she only wore it because she thought Bob liked it on her.

The final nail in Y/N’s coffin was when she sprayed it. Curiosity got the best of her. What does this person smell like? Is it similar to mine? Completely different? She needed to know.

Much to her dismay, she liked it. She really liked it.

‘Damnit!’ She mentally screamed. She was praying the pretty and luxurious bottle would be just a fluke. That she would hate it and it would give her some kind of relief. Instead she just cried.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Bob was terrified. As soon as Maverick told him that he reached out to Y/N, he knew that he could no longer wait. He could no longer procrastinate or plot a way out of it. He had to do it now.

When Bob pulled up at home he saw Y/N’s car, he actually wasn’t surprised. She was a loving and generous person. He knew she would be there to try to comfort him from Maverick’s ‘secret stressful training’. That thought made what he had to do so much worse.

Bob walked up to his front door. He paused, took a deep breath and said to himself, ‘Now or never Floyd. Just try not to break her heart.’

But when he opened the door he was met with his worst nightmare.

Y/N was sitting on his couch crying. Out of instinct he immediately ran over to her.

“Y/N! Baby! What’s wrong?” He tried to confront her best he could.

Y/N pushed him away, “What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG?! You lied to me!”

Bob sighed in defeat. He had been caught.

“I’m so sorry! I never meant for you to find out this way!” He tried to reason.

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that.

Bob knelt in front of where she was sitting on the couch, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.”

“How the hell would this not hurt me, Bobby?!” Y/N yelled, “There is absolutely no way that I could come out of this not hurt!

Bob felt the tears starting to well up. It was over. He screwed it all up. All he could do was apologize.

“I am so sorry Y/N! I truly never meant to hurt you.: Bob felt himself start to ramble, “I just couldn’t think of the right time and the team kept pushing me. Hell, Hangman even suggested I blurt it out during sex and I know that sounds ridiculous but I am beginning to think that would’ve been a better option then you finding out from Maverick!”

Y/N looked at Bob like he had grown a second head.

“What? Hangman suggested that you tell me you’re cheating on me during sex?!” Y/n was incredibly confused, “What the hell is wrong with you two?!”

Now it was Bob’s turn to be confused, “Cheating on you?! You think I’ve been cheating on you!’

“Haven’t you?” Y/N said accusingly, “You never talk to me anymore, you rush off as soon as you can, the entire team has been avoiding me like the plague, and this was in your bathroom!” Y/N felt the tears coming again as she held up the bottle.

Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t think anything would be worse than Y/N’s reaction to him leaving. But this was so much worse.

Bob gently grabbed her hands.

“Baby, I would never cheat on you. I’m lucky I got you! Do you really think I would be stupid enough to throw away the best thing that ever happened to me?!”

Y/N looked into his high puppy-dog eyes and almost melted. Almost.

“Then what the hell is going on Bobby?’ She asked desperately.

Bob took her hands and kissed them before speaking, “I’m being deployed.”

Those three words made Y/N’s eyes go wide for a moment. Then she practically leaped on Bob in a huge hug that nearly knocked him over.

Bob was once again, very confused.

“Wait, you’re not mad?” He asked.

Y/N chuckled, “Give me a few minutes to be relieved I was wrong. Then the madness will probably set in”

Bob felt himself melt into the hug. There was hope. Hope that she would actually stay.

“Baby,” Bob began slowly pulling back from her, “The reason I’ve been distant is because I was scared to tell you. I didn’t know how you would react. Same with the team. Poor Bradley has been on edge for weeks because he was afraid he would let it slip.”

“Weeks?” Y/N asked, sounding hurt, “You’ve known for weeks?”

Bob nodded his head in shame, “We found out about three weeks ago. I thought maybe if I put it off it would go away or by some miracle I wouldn’t have to go. But I guess this is it. I leave in three days.”

Y/N was in shock. She finally understood. Believe it or not she even understood why he hid it. He wasn’t afraid to tell her he was leaving. He was afraid to ask her to stay.

She looked at him and gently put her hand on his cheek, “It’ll be okay Bobby.

Those four words pulled him out of his own head and straight back into reality.

“Really?!” He asked, trying not to get too excited, “It’s six months. Little to no communication and I did solidly prove today that I am an idiot. No one would blame you if you jumped ship.”

Y/N giggled at the pun before holding his face in her hands and looking straight into his eyes, “I’m not going anywhere Bobby.”

Bob couldn’t contain himself. He pulled her in for a kiss and hugged her so tight he lifted her off the couch and spun her around. He felt like he was flying.

“Wait!” Y/N said and Bob felt his blood run cold.

He slowly set her down and looked in her eyes, “What?”

Y/N went back to the couch and grabbed the bottle that now had no explanation.

“What is this for then?” She asked, no longer accusing, but genuinely very curious.

“That? It ah- well I wanted to-“ Bob rubbed the back of his neck and blushed, “It was to take with me. To remind me of you. I know it's not the exact one you wear but when I went to buy that one I smelt this one and-” Bob shrugged, struggling to find the right words, “It just smelt like what it feels like to be with you.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to feel ecstatic. She looked at the bottle then sprayed some on her forearm and inhaled the scent for the second time. He was right. It smelled comforting. She pulled him in for another kiss and let the scent waft around them like a cocoon. And Y/N made a mental note to pick up a bottle of that perfume to keep with her too.

TAG LIST- Thank you for the encouragement❤️

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