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jupitercomet · 1 year

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me too!! the ocean scares the fuck out of me but i love it.

and yes!! my brother is older, so we would always just be at different spots so it was hard sometimes to connect with him.

ugh, a bob blurb would be swell, only if you wanna😭 i just need him to be that bestie who’s secretly in love with me and come swoop in and love tf out of me😭😭😭

-🧚‍♀️

please enjoy my friends-to-lovers agenda of me subtly convincing everyone that Bob knows how to fight because I can feel it in my bones (also it's set in the curveball universe (not canon tho) because I felt like it)

You were born 1 year and 3 months after your brother. And that relatively short amount of time made your life a living hell.

Okay, perhaps that was an exaggeration, but with the way your brother and his friends treated you, you would think that that 1 year and 3 months were actually 1 decade. For the most part, it wasn’t too bad. You were close with all the guys, practically a little sister to them too, and Jamie never seemed to mind that you tagged along. But the moment anything that remotely reminded them you weren’t actually that much younger than them came up, you were reminded again just how much you hated that 1 year and 3 months.

“Hangman, would you stop? He was just being nice.” The blond had his hand snug around your wrist, dragging you into your family home.

“Nope,” his grip tightened as you tried again to pull away. “Tell your brother what happened.”

Your sudden entrance had drawn the attention of the rest of the guys sitting in your living room and you wished more than anything that you could melt into the floor. Bradley dropped his controller into his lap, an expectant look on his face as he waited for you to explain yourself. Actually, all the guys were waiting for you to explain yourself.

“Nothing happened!” You let out a frustrated cry. “I just went to Starbucks.”

Not a single one of them believed you and you rolled your eyes because you knew that nothing you could say would make them believe you. Truthfully, nothing had happened, but Jake had blown everything out of proportion and now you had to deal with an entire baseball team of overprotective shitheads.

“Yeah, you went to Starbucks and flirted with the barista,” Jake countered. “He left his number on your cup!”

As soon as the words left his lips, Bradley had snatched the drink out of your hands, brows furrowing as he read the 10 numbers scrawled in black sharpie. You glared at Jake, another huff leaving your lips as you realized you would probably not get your drink back. The other guys quickly crowded around your brother, aside from Reuben who found the whole thing amusing. And Bob, who was more focused on you than the number on your cup it seemed. You locked eyes briefly, before your gaze fell to the floor. Yeah, this was embarrassing.

The thing with Bob was that your relationship had always been different than with the other guys. He had never really treated you like a little sister, or at least you hoped he didn’t. The summer before, he’d made a habit of hanging out with you, taking you to your favorite places, making sure you were having fun. It was no surprise that you ended up developing a crush on the guy.

“Who does he even think he is?” You realized now that your drink had made its way to Mickey. “Trying to pull that shit on Baby Chick like that.”

And there it was. That nickname you absolutely loathed. It had started when Bradley first joined the team, earning the name Rooster for himself. It had been Jake that figured that since Bradley was Rooster, that would make you a baby rooster. And thus Baby Chick. At first you didn’t really mind it, but then the whole team started calling you Baby Chick. And how could Bob possibly like you if they all saw you as a baby?

“You guys do know I’m a year younger than you, right?” You snapped at them. “Like, I’m not actually a little kid anymore.”

You were ignored by the group, the guys talking quietly amongst themselves like you weren’t standing right there. With another roll of your eyes, you sat down. You loved those boys, you really did, but sometimes you really wanted to smack them. This was one of those times.

“Who looks the most like a boyfriend out of all of us?” Jake looked around the room suddenly. “Bob, you’re single right’?”

Bob gave his friend a weird look. “Yeah…”

Jake’s eyes lit up and it hit you all at once what exactly he was planning. “No, absolutely not. You’re not making Bob my babysitter.”

“It’s either him or me, Baby Chick.” And with the rest of the guys staring at you, you knew no matter how hard you tried you weren’t going to win this.

With another scoff, you flipped them off. Bob sent you an apologetic smile and you realized you now had an even bigger problem. Somehow hiding your massive crush from him.

The next morning, you set your alarm an hour early, throwing on an old hoodie of Bradley’s and not even bothering to get more ready than that. Your plan was to sneak out before any of the guys woke up and be back, drink in hand, before any of them could follow you. Your face fell when you saw Bob waiting for you at the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” he smiled sheepishly at your reaction. “Your brother woke me up at 5:30.”

You sent a glare back up the stairs, knowing that’s where Bradley was sleeping peacefully. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Bob just laughed, holding the door open for you as you both exited the house. The walk wasn’t too bad, you’d always liked talking to Bob and it was nice to hangout with him without the rest of your friends. And if you just happened to brush hands when you walked, it wasn’t like any of them were there to call you out on it. Soon enough, the coffee shop came into view and, again, Bob held the door open for you. Almost instantly, you could tell that he was looking for the barista that had flirted with you. Luckily for you, barista boy did not seem to be working that morning.

“Alright Baby Chick, what are you getting?”

You cringed at his words. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I—” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I thought that— Because all the guys do—”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to.” You missed the way his face fell as you looked down in defeat. There was a moment of silence before you spoke again. “I’m not a baby, you know.”

“I know.”

You looked up at him with a sad smile on your face. “Do you, Bob?”

His expression matched yours for a second, before he turned his head forward and kept his gaze on the large menu. “Trust me, I know.”

“I like your sister.”

Bradley’s jaw tightened as he screwed the cap back onto his water bottle, his words coming out as almost a warning. “Yeah, we all do.”

“Rooster,” Bob tried again, holding eye contact with the other baseball player. “I like your sister.”

Bradley’s water bottle crinkled slightly under his grip, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look, you—” Bob wet his lips nervously. “She’s a year younger than you, Rooster. One of these days you guys are gonna have to learn how to protect her without treating her like a little kid.”

“Have you—” Bradley looked up at him for the first time since his confession. “Have you done anything about…” He cut himself off.

“No, I don’t even know if she’s interested in that,” Bob shrugged halfheartedly. “I just thought that, I don’t know, you deserved to know.”

“So does she.”

Bob’s head whipped around at his friend’s words, almost convinced he hadn’t heard him properly. But Bradley was looking at him, an accepting smile on his lips, and Bob realized that he hadn’t misheard him at all.

“You’re right,” Bradley told him simply. “She’s not a baby anymore and, if it had to be anyone, I don’t hate the idea of it being you.”

The weight in Bob’s shoulders relaxed. He knew that, if you did actually like him, it wouldn’t have mattered what your brother thought and you would be with him anyway. That was one of the things he liked about you in the first place. But avoiding an uppercut to the jaw from his teammate did make him feel better about the whole thing.

“You hurt her and you’re dead, Floyd. And you know I mean that.”

He laughed, the dynamics of their friendship easily falling back into place. “Yeah Bradshaw, I know.”

You knocked lightly on Bob’s slightly ajar door, smiling when he turned to look at you.

“I want more coffee, c’mon.”

He chuckled, getting up from his desk and met you at the door. “You’re addicted, you know that?”

You knew that, if you wanted to, you probably could have gone by yourself. It was one of the few days that the guys were all doing their own thing and usually those days came without them helicoptering you. But coffee runs with Bob had become something that you actually looked forward to. You liked talking with him and walking with him. You especially liked when you got him to laugh. He laughed a lot when he was with you.

The walk was quieter than it usually was, Bob had yet to speak to you and was clearly lost in thought. You’d tried to get a few things out of him, but the most you got was a small hum of agreement. Finally you stopped, planting your feet on the pavement and reaching out for his wrist.

“Okay, what’s up with you? Is something wrong?”

Bob bit the inside of his cheek, looking anywhere but you and you were on the verge of dropping the subject before he finally spoke.

“Would you have gone out with that guy? If your brother hadn’t stolen his number, I mean.”

“No, I—” Your mouth closed, Bob’s question confusing you with its suddenness. “No.”

“Really?” Bob's gaze had fallen to the floor and you really just wished he would look at you.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I don’t even know him.”

In a sudden surge of confidence you added.

“I prefer guys with glasses anyway.”

Bob’s head snapped up, the mumbling of “You Bradshaws are going to break my neck” leaving his lips. Before you could ask him what he meant by that, his hand was cupping your check, cutting off your train of thought. You rose slightly on your toes, waiting for his face to come closer.

“I really want to kiss you,” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “Is that okay?”

And standing in the middle of the sidewalk, on a Friday afternoon, a block away from your favorite Starbucks, you nodded your head. Because it was more than okay, with Bob it had always been more than okay. Once he’d registered your nod, his lips were on yours, his other hand falling fittingly onto your waist.

“Look, my brother’s obviously going to fight you,” you pulled away, breathlessly. “And I know you could probably beat the shit out of him. So please go easy on him for me.”

You could hardly get the words out, each sentence interrupted by another peck to his lips. Bob smiled against your mouth, grounding two hands on your hips as he laughed.

“As much as I’m sure he’d love to hear that,” Bob joked, thumbs rubbing circles on the waistband of your leggings. “I talked to him and he’s okay with it.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “He’s okay with it?”

“Would you actually care if he wasn’t?” Bob matched your look and suddenly your face was breaking out into a grin.

“Nope.” You slid your hand into his, turning back to start walking again. Bob smiled softly at the way you were swinging your interlocked hands, the look on your face being one he really hoped he committed to memory.

You dropped his hand suddenly. “Does this mean you’ll buy my coffees now?”

Bob laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Whatever you'd like, chickadee.”

And you decided you liked “chickadee” a lot more than Baby Chick.

#🧚‍♀️ anon #bob floyd blurb #what’s up doc

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jupitercomet · 1 year

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don't mind me, just rereading everything you've ever written while patiently waiting for the new chapter of tdbj/the curveball😸💌

ahh thank you 🥺 since I really gotta focus on finals this week, please enjoy this snippet of the curveball chapter two to tide you over:

“Are you having fun, honey?” Bradley’s large hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his lap as you neared the table.

You nodded excitedly, shifting to get comfortable on his thighs. “So much! I’ve never been here before.”

“I can tell,” Bradley smiled fondly, brushing back some of the baby hairs that had stuck to your forehead. “You’ve been dancing all night.”

With your body relaxing into the hand he had pressed against the small of your back and your ocean aroma filling Bradley’s senses, he was sure you could have spent the rest of the night dancing with your friends and ignoring him and he would have been just as happy. He reached for his glass of water, holding it up to your lips as you drank from it obediently

“Are you gonna dance with me soon?” You asked once Bradley decided you’d had enough water to cool you down, wiping your wet lips with the back of your hand.

Bradley chuckled. “You only asking me that ‘cause I look like that guy you like from Footloose?”

Your eyes widened comically making it hard for Bradley to feel guilty that Callie had drunkenly spilled your not so secret crush on Willard Hewitt to him an hour or two prior.

“Who told you that?” You whined with a frown. “Did Callie tell you that?”

Bradley smirked, purposefully ignoring your question. “Do you think I’m cute, baby doll? You got a crush on me?”

“No…” You looked around bashfully.

“Mm, I think you do. You lyin’ to me, sweet girl?” Bradley’s hand squished your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he nodded your head up and down for you slowly. “Yeah. But it’s okay—”

He was close enough that the lingering mint from the gum he was chewing was making your eyes water slightly. With his lips a breath away from your own, you swore you could almost feel them already. You thought for certain he was going to kiss you then — he'd been teasing it all night. But then he stopped, staring at you just as teasingly with a few smacks of his gum. Bradley grinned when you let out a muffled, needy whimper.

“—I got a crush on you too, baby doll.”

#the curveball— asks #the curveball teaser #what’s up doc

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