#why me?

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 9

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

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, talk about sex, mentions of abuse, pining, forbidden relationship, jealousy, self-doubt, Hangman being a menace, talk of death, mentions of exes

Word Count: 9k (It's worth it, I promise)

Summary: After a chat with your dad, you're feeling a little better about your family situation. You still get the feeling you're being watched and try your hardest to be on your best behavior. And the time finally comes for Bob to meet Emily.

A/N: I wrote the last bit to this part MONTHS ago and I'm so excited to finally share it with y'all. Again, love the likes, comments and reblogs make me cry happy tears and I love you all!

Also, special shoutout to Tonya Harding anon, whose reaction I am always excited to see when I post. Anyway, enjoy!!

Masterlist

Bob was an idiot. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he drove home to Sylvia. Of course you would want him to go out on a date, or whatever this was. You are his friend, and friends want each other to be happy. Except, Bob knows he won’t be happy with Rachel’s friend, whatever her name was. Even as he unlocks his front door and is greeted with Sylvia running toward him, he still can’t help but feel a little sad over the thought of you. You’ve been on his mind every day since he first laid eyes on you, and he knew even then you were too good for him. There was a moment today, as he held your hand he felt the courage to say something. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would have said, but you make him feel scared and brave all at the same time. It’s hard to explain, but who would he have to explain it to anyway?

Even as he’s brushing his teeth, his thoughts wander as they usually do to you. The way your eyes light up when you give him a real smile. Not the fake ones you’ve been sporting lately. The way you were so gentle with him, and every time your hands found each others it felt so natural. So right.

Clad in just his boxers, Bob slips beneath the sheets of his bed as he sets his glasses on his nightstand. And even though he knows it’s a hard habit to break, when Sylvia jumps up to join him he doesn’t push her away. He welcomes the comfort, patting the spot next to him as she circles once, plopping down against his side once she’s sure she’s found the right spot.

The warmth takes his mind back to the night he spent in your bed. How even in your drunken state your hand was able to find his heart so easily. You didn’t need a hand to do that, though. Somehow through all of his attempts to avoid having to look at you longer than he had to, you had already found it. He could tell the minute his heart started pounding out of his chest the first time he saw you that you would get there easier than anyone else had, or probably ever will.

His eyes grow tired, and as he turns his head he can almost make out the shape of your face, your eyes reappearing underneath your lashes. A soft smile creeping from your plush lips as you stare back. Bob is quite sure he’s dreaming now as the lingering floral scent of your shampoo clouds his senses. As much as he wishes it was, it doesn’t feel real as he kisses your forehead. He can’t move, he knows if he takes any more liberties in this dream it will slip out of his fingers just like they all have before. If Bob can be with you in any way he knows it will only be in his dreams. And as much as it hurts to wake up and realize it’s not real, and there’s no way you would want him, he still allows himself to relish the moments where his brain tricks him into thinking you do. He’ll take the hurt of waking up as reality crushes his spirit just for the chance to know you in his sleep.

And now his mind remembers what it feels like to have your hands caress his face, cradle his jaw, and trace over his lips. The rushed way your lips met his cheek. Closing his eyes he can pause the memory, smell your perfume, know the way your kiss felt against his face. Your touch will fuel his dreams for years to come. He knows this to be the heartwrenching truth as the thought of you brings him to a deep sleep.

The drive is silent, and yet you still take the long way home. The day is finally catching up to you as you park your car in the driveway, opting to just sit in the driver’s seat, staring at the steering wheel. It’s still the same shitty little car you bought when you were 17, the heater doesn’t work, but you figured you don’t need it in San Diego. And the battery’s a little finicky, but you just keep telling yourself you’ll get a new one when you have the time. Whenever you’re not falling for people you can’t have or punching your brother- teammate. You swiftly correct yourself. If he wants a relationship that’s the only one he’s going to get from you.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been sitting in your car, contemplating your existence before you’re walking to the front door, head held low. Your brain is on autopilot, the rest of your body following. The light in the kitchen doesn’t even phase you as you lock the front door behind you, running a hand down your face as you lean against the door.

“I was wondering when you’d get home”, your head shoots up in the direction of your father’s voice coming from the kitchen table, startling you.

“Jesus christ”, you let out.

“I got back to the bar and they all told me you already left, so how did I beat you here?” Folding his arms across his chest, he raises a brow for you to answer.

“I just needed to clear my head, go for a drive.” You shrug. He hums in acknowledgement, holding your gaze, as if waiting for you to go on. His eyes fall to your hand as you rub at your forehead. “Well, I think I’m just gonna go to bed-”

“Were you going to tell me what happened to your hand?” A shaky breath leaves your body as you look down to the fading bruise, it’s a wonder he was able to see it at all anymore.

“You never asked.”

“I never noticed.” He counters.

“And whose fault is that?” You bite back. He’s at a visible loss for words as you move to the stairs, taking a few steps toward your room, “Like I told Penny, I slammed it in my car door.”

“Oh c’mon”, the slightly raised level of his voice stops you in your tracks, “Cut the crap kid. Tell me the truth.” You turn to face him as he stands, just so tired with the day and the same old bullshit you’ve been trying to swim through.

“Seems like you already know the truth, so why does it matter if I tell you?”

“Because you keep lying to me!” You know he’s not just talking about covering up what Rooster said. There’s a deep frustration within his words that goes back to when you were a kid. Lying about how you got those bruises around your wrists, even the lie you kept up for four years while you attended the academy.

“Dad, please, I really don’t feel like talking right now-“

“No. You keep avoiding me, and we’re having a conversation. Now.” It’s your turn to beg as your lip begins to wobble.

“I’ve already had a rough day and I just want to go to sleep, please dad.”

“What’s wrong?”, he asks with a much gentler tone.

“It’s nothing”, you respond, fiddling with your thumb instead of staring back at him. Sighing, he shakes his head at the ground.

“Please. Just tell me the truth. Talk to me bug.” The nickname falls softly from his lips, even if it is hard for him to say. Truth be told, he couldn’t bring himself to call you that after Carole died, he didn’t want to encroach on the Bradshaw’s nickname for you. He knows you’ve worked hard to become the independent woman that you are today, but right now all he can see is his little girl standing at the top of the stairs. It brings back memories of you as a kid, blanket in hand, waking up from a scary dream. In those instances you’d wipe at your tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes, clinging to your dad. Your eyes look tired now, just not due to lack of sleep anymore.

“There’s just a lot going on right now”, you mutter.

“You don’t have to tell me everything… I just want to make sure you’re ok, kid.” You nod at his words. There is a lot going on in your mind right now. The most recent thing involves something or rather someone you would never in a million years tell your dad about, so your mind wanders back to the root of how you got here. Why you’ve been feeling inadequate in comparison to the person who turned his back on you, not even giving you the decency to watch as he left you to drown.

“What do I have to do for you to see me the same way you do Bradley?” Your father’s shoulders visibly slump as he blinks up at you.

“It’s like he can do no wrong in your eyes. And I kind of get it. I mean he’s the product of two people you loved very much, and I… I was an accident”, Damn it. You are so sick of crying, but you try to swallow the frog in your throat to delay it anyway you can, “A regret you’re forced to live with every single day.” You’re picking at your nails again, heart beating so loud in your ears you don’t hear your dad get closer until his arms are wrapped around you. The two of you sink to take a seat on the stairs you were all too eager to run up only a minute ago. The second his arms reach around your shoulders, the tears start falling from your lash line, and you try your best to muffle your sniffling through his jacket.

“Hey, who told you that?” he gently asks, running his hand over your head in an attempt to soothe you.

“Who do you think?”, you mumble back, defeated. He sighs as he sets both hands gently on your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him.

“How could I regret you when you are the one thing that I am most proud of in my life? Huh? Screw every title and trophy, being called your dad is the greatest achievement I will ever receive.” His green eyes don’t tear away from your own, driving the sincerity of his words right through your heart. 

“Do you understand that?” Nodding, you move to rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your arm.

“And about Bradley… There’s a lot that boy has and will do wrong. I was just surprised that after- hell, sixteen years he wanted a relationship with me again. I didn’t see that I was hurting you, and sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

“I thought you died, you know”, you whisper. “I thought you both did.” He holds you tighter at your remark. The harrowing moments on the Uranium mission when you had to sit in your F-18, listening to your teammates scream that your dad, and then Rooster of all people had gone down haunt your memories. Take up space that could otherwise be filled with anything else. “I was ready to forgive him. Almost losing the two of you for good made me realize I missed him more than I hated him. And now-”, you take in a deep breath, your dad going back to rubbing up and down your arm.

“You know, Goose was my brother. Blood be damned. I miss him and Carole every single day. I see them both in Bradley, but this anger- I know that comes from years of hatred and resentment he harbored towards me. I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire of all of that.”

“He did apologize to me. Multiple times. I just don’t know if this is something that I can forgive him for.” Your dad hums and gives you a nod, moving to stroke your head again.

“You don’t have to decide that right now. I think it’s up to him to show you if he really means it, and in the meantime you can let your old man try to knock some sense into him.” You huff out a small laugh through your nose.

“Has he said anything to you?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, we had a little talk on Sunday.” Furrowing your brows, you move your head to look back at his face.

“What did you say?” “Nothing that he didn’t need to hear. Someone had to remind him that’s not how you treat people, let alone your family.” You inwardly cringe at his use of the word. You know Rooster doesn’t have many blood-relatives left. A couple cousins on his mom’s side, but they’re all older and already have families of their own. You guess, in a sense, you are the only family he has left.

“I already punched him”, you mutter. Sighing once more, he turns and places a kiss to the very top of your head.

“I know you did, kid. Thanks for telling me.” You sit on the stairs a little longer, the relief of talking to him lifting a weight off of your chest. Until he speaks up again.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to me anymore, ok?”, you nod against his shoulder. “Is there anything else bothering you?” And even though you just practically told him you would tell him the truth, this is one thing you know you cannot and will not divulge to him.

“No.”

You’re a little nervous for work the next day. There’s not a doubt in your mind that you did the right thing by telling Bob to go on that date or whatever it is, and you’ll stick by that decision. But now you have people watching you. Rooster, even as you walk into the ready-room while Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy suit up to take to the skies, is already watching as you move to take a seat on the couch, noticeably across from Bob instead of next to him and Phoenix.

Bob looks up almost immediately as you sit, and sends a small smile your way. You do the same to him and it almost feels like before. Just pleasantries, even if you are excited to see him. God, Rooster was going to ruin your life. You’re pointedly avoiding his gaze even though you know he’s still watching. This is ok, though. You’re just going to follow Cyclone’s advice and do your job. That’s what you’re here to do.

Once the first group is done with their exercises, it’s your turn to head out along with Rooster. Your dad was adamant he was not the one who set up the pairs this time, and you immediately know this was a direct order from Cyclone. A test.

The object is to use the evasive maneuvers you’ve been practicing to avoid one Pete “Maverick” Mitchell from shooting you down. You’re walking to your jet when a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Mantis!”, Rooster calls out. You turn, holding your head high as he catches up to you. “We got this, right?” You eye his helmet as he holds it out to you. And as if the action summoned the beast himself, over Rooster’s shoulder you notice Cyclone standing in the hangar, shoulders squared as he watches the two of you get ready for takeoff. Looking back to Rooster, you knock your helmet into his.

“Right.” He nods once, trying to hide his surprise at your willingness.

Waiting in the air for your dad to make an appearance is like waiting in the eye of a storm. You know it’s coming, you just have to wait for it to pass over before all hell breaks loose.

“You see him yet?”, you ask, breaking the silence that has since formed after taking off.

“Not yet, but keep your eyes peeled, he likes to sneak up from below.” If there’s anything you know about your father, it’s that he doesn’t like to use the same tricks twice. Which is why when you look up, you’re not at all surprised at Maverick’s jet flying just above the two of you, nose diving the slightest bit as if he thinks he can catch you off guard.

“Bogie’s right above us, coming in hot, break right Rooster.” He does as you say while you break left, and your dad is left scrambling as his attempt to dive between the two of you is foiled. The two of you successfully evade Maverick for the time being, but when you’re left right next to each other and Maverick’s coming back around, you know he has to choose one of you to “shoot down”, and you know he won’t be choosing you.

“He’s coming back around Mantis”, Rooster warns. You eye his jet coming up from behind this time.

“He’s gonna go after you. When I tell you to, break left.” You watch his speed steadily increase as he gets closer and closer to the two of you, your hand twitching on the yoke of your jet. “Now Rooster!” He does as you say, and just like you planned it, Maverick follows him. Their jets fall as they get closer to the Hard Deck, and you watch Rooster start to climb back up.

“I’m leading him to you Mantis, heads up!” You follow their jets from above, waiting for Rooster to lead Maverick into your trap, and before you know it, they’re both in front of you, the shrill sound of catching tone on your dad ringing in both of your cockpits.

“Tone!”, you exclaim, “You’re out Mav.” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, even as you make your way out of the cockpit. Once you land, Rooster is waiting for you with the same look on his face. 

“Now that's what I’m talking about, Mantis!”, he offers his hand in high five as the two of you walk off the tarmac, and as the adrenaline from beating your father makes its way through your veins, you take him up on the offer, slapping your hand against his.

The rest of the team in the ready-room starts clapping as the two of you walk back in. As if defeating Maverick was one of the hardest things you’d have to do. You laugh as you tap your fist against Coyote’s, the others patting you and Rooster on the back. Bob’s standing at the couch, still clapping for you as he gives you a wider smile, a seemingly proud look in his eye, like he had no doubt you could do it. You smile right back, getting the feeling he had the confidence you could the entire time.

When lunch rolls around the adrenaline has since worn off, leaving you a little tired. You drag yourself into the mess-hall and spot Bob at your usual table in the crowd. You hate that your head perks up at the sight, and even if you were stuck a moment ago, your feet move in his direction. You greet him with a smile, and your heart melts as he moves his lunch bag off of the seat he saved just for you. Taking a breath of relief at the routine, you take a seat. A weight is lifted off of your shoulders, Bob is a friend, a great one at that, and you don’t want to do anything to risk that. Even if you long for more, and you get butterflies every time his hand touches yours, or he gives you that same crooked smile, you just want to be around him.

“Hey, nice job today”, he says as he starts to unpack his lunch.

“Thank you. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t ask this morning, but how’s your nose?” He makes a move to touch the bridge of his nose, feeling for any sort of tenderness.

“Oh, it’s fine. I think bein’ out in the sun all day just dried me out. Made it look worse than it actually was.”

“Well hopefully we won’t need to have another mandated beach day. And maybe next time you’ll drink more water”, you comment, raising your brow at him.

“Ok”, he laughs, “I was a little distracted, next time I’ll make sure I’m chuggin’ water.” You furrow your brow with a smile as he digs into his lunch.

“What got you so distracted you forgot to drink water?” He swallows the bit of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich he just took a bite of, trying and failing to avoid your gaze.

“Oh, um-” The sound of Phoenix pulling out a chair at the table saves him from answering, as you look back to your friend. She offers you a high five and you’re quick to take it from her.

“Helluva job today, Mantis”, she says with a smirk.

“Thanks, what can I say? I am too good”, you joke as she rolls her eyes, Bob chuckling next to you.

“If you keep quoting that Texas Ken doll, you are not coming to my house on Saturday.” She says as she points her fork in your direction. Putting your hands up in a mock surrender, she switches the subject.

“Speaking of… Bob”, his head perks up, “Rachel’s excited for you to meet Emily.” Your eyes slowly flit to Bob, gauging his reaction. He swallows again before responding, if you thought any better you’d think he was nervous.

“What have you told Emily about me?”

“Just that you’re a really good friend, cute, and sweet. You know, the basics.” He lets out a light scoff.

“Yeah, well, don’t get her hopes up, too much.” At his words you lightly tap his shoulder with the back of your hand.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, you ask.

“C’mon”, he looks to you and back to Phoenix, “You tell a girl you’re settin’ her up with one of your Navy buddies and she’ll expect someone like that Texas Ken doll. Not… me.”

“Bob”, you start, almost placing a hand atop his, but ultimately deciding to land on his shoulder, “I’ve met a ton of meatheads during my time in the Navy, but you are a breath of fresh air in an otherwise tainted climate. You hear me?” His eyelashes flutter as he blinks at you. Taking a deep breath in his eyes land back on Phoenix who gives him an encouraging smile.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Phoenix’s phone starts ringing, and she smiles wider as she takes it out of her pocket, “It’s Rachel, I’ll be right back.” You go back to your food as Bob does his, or at least you try to. It’s so stupid. He’s not even yours and the thought of him seeing another woman makes your stomach ache.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”, his ocean eyes are riddled with worry as you look back at him.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”, you ask, your voice a little softer. He simply shrugs, staring back at his large hands.

“Setups like this usually don’t work out for me… They’re always expecting someone I’m not.” Your heart falls at the dejectedness in his voice. You can tell he’s had his heart broken many times after Mandy Harrison, and he doesn’t expect it to stop happening.

“Bob-”, you quickly stop yourself before calling him Bobby, “That just means those people weren’t right for you. And so what? You’ve taken chances before, that just means you’re open to the possibilities.”

“What possibilities? Feelin’ like a fool again?”

“The possibility of finding happiness in another person.” He stops arguing for a second, and again, it’s just the two of you. The table vacated except for you and Bob, your heart pounding in your head, taking over your every thought. “I don’t think wanting to be happy makes you a fool. It makes you human. And if taking this chance means you and another person end up happy, why not risk it? Who is it hurting?” You resist the urge to answer your own question. You. It’s hurting you.

“Nobody. I guess”, he responds, almost under his breath. It makes you want to double over in pain, but you resist and give him a small smile, eyeing the freckle just below his hairline as he focuses back on his lunch. He doesn’t actually eat any of it, just keeps picking up the same carrot and putting it back down until Phoenix comes back.

“Ok, well. We’re figuring out food so I need an official headcount. I know the two of you are coming, but are you still sure you want me to invite Rooster?” You’re snapped back to reality, finding Rooster across the room, eating alone again. The team still hasn’t let him back in quite yet, and while you’re thankful for the comradery, he is still a part of the squadron.

“Yeah, it’s fine”, you nod as she eyes you warily. 

“Ok, I can’t promise it won’t be awkward…”, she warns.

“It’s always going to be awkward. Might as well face it head on.”

You’ve been to Phoenix’s cozy bungalow a few times since being reassigned, and even though the two of you have grown a lot since bunking together at the Academy, she was still the same messy roommate you knew and loved her to be. Which is why when you show up a little early to help her set stuff up on Saturday evening, you’re surprised to see it’s already tidied up, no real additional cleaning required.

“Wow”, you remark as you step foot in the kitchen, “Are you sure I’m at the right address? This is too clean to be your place.” Stopping her motions as she chops up some fruit, she fixes you with a fake glare.

“Oh haha. You here to crack jokes or help me out?” You move to step around the counter, but a screech from behind you stops you in your path.

“Mantis!” Rachel squeals, reaching to give you a hug, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“I’m so happy to be here!”, you respond in the same cadence, still a little surprised at her excitement.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I can’t wait to meet everyone else!”, she practically bounces on her feet, ginger locks swaying with her. You turn back to help Phoenix, clocking the lovestruck look on her face as she stares at her girlfriend.

“Who else have you met?”, you ask, starting to chop up fruit alongside Phoenix.

“Oh let’s see, you and Bob of course, we ran into Payback and his family at the beach, and then Rooster. But Nat tells me we’re mad at him right now?”, she cocks her head to the side, checking with her girlfriend if that’s still the case. Natasha nods, plating her already sliced strawberries.

“That’s right, but tonight we’re offering him an opportunity to redeem himself”, she responds, looking back at you. A knock comes from the door and Rachel excuses herself to answer it, leaving you and Phoenix in the kitchen. “You sure you’re gonna be alright with him here?” The voice in the back of your head tells you it’s not being around him you’re worried about, it’s being around-

“Bob!”, Rachel exclaims, “I’m so happy you’re here!” Your head shoots up to the entrance of the kitchen as Bob follows Rachel in. Your eyes are drawn to his clean-shaven face, then down to the strain of his forearm beneath the rolled up flannel he dons. A case of Dr. Pepper is clutched in his hands as he greets you and Phoenix, moving to place it in the fridge.

“You really didn’t have to bring anything”, she complains.

“I know, but mama told me to never show up to a party empty-handed.” Catching each other’s eyes, you give him a smile and turn back to your task at hand.

Before long, people are showing up, and Bob is whisked off to help rearrange some furniture to create more room for the influx of people. You’re talking to Payback, Fanboy and Bob just off to the side, when Rooster enters through the front door, a 12-pack of beer in hand that he hands off to Rachel as she greets him, noticeably without a hug. You watch as Phoenix approaches him, hands on her hips as he nods at what she’s telling him. From the way he’s attentively listening to her, you can tell she’s giving him a rundown of what she expects from him. You can make out the last of their conversation as her lips move, asking if he “got that?” He only nods in response, and you quietly smirk to yourself.

You’re talking to Fanboy now, Bob still hanging just to the right of you with Payback when you hear that same squeal from Rachel, only this time your stomach drops as she greets her friend.

“Emily!”, your eyes turn and find a stunning blonde woman hugging Rachel. You can’t help but gaze at her figure, her beautiful face and feel a little jealous. Turning back to Fanboy, you catch Bob looking your way through the corner of your eye, figuring he’s trying to get a look at Emily but you’re in the way.

“Bob!”, Phoenix calls out. You turn to find her dragging Emily over to your small group in the corner of the living room. He sets his can of Dr. Pepper on a coaster, before wiping the condensation off on his jeans. “This is Emily, Emily, this is Bob.”

“Nice to meet ya’”, he says, offering a handshake which she takes. You watch his hand engulf hers and have to tear your eyes away. It’s so stupid, but that’s the same hand that has wiped your tears away, gently comforted you, and you don’t want to be, but you’re jealous that it isn’t your hand he’s holding right now. She moves on, introducing her to the rest of the group, and you give her a polite smile and your name.

“Or you can call me Mantis”, you offer.

“Nice to meet you all”, she gives with a gorgeous smile. “Wait, Bob, what’s your call-sign?”

“Oh, it’s just Bob”, he responds with a nervous look on his face.

“Oh”, she laughs. You furrow your brows, glancing at Bob whose face is now red with embarrassment. You’re about to speak up for him, but Emily is already calling out for someone before you’re able to. “Rooster!” All of your heads turn as Rooster makes his way over, Emily immediately jumping to give him a hug.

“Wait”, you turn to Phoenix, “Do those two know each other?”

“Kind of, they met when I introduced Rooster to Rachel. It was actually his idea to set her up with Bob.” And then she takes a swig of her drink like she didn’t just drop a bomb on you. Your gaze hardens as you slowly turn back and see Emily running her hand down Rooster’s arm. That sneaky bastard had a master plan this entire time. His hazel eyes make contact with your own as you squint. He swallows and turns back to Emily who is still trying to hold his attention.

Once everyone arrives and settles in with a drink or two, a most wonderful idea to play “Never Have I Ever” is suggested by Hangman. Who has decided he’s the ringmaster of the entire party now. A few tame questions are asked, drinks are drunk, and then he has to open his stupid mouth, “Ok, never have I ever played spin the bottle.” You look around the room, leaving your drink in your hands, as pretty much everyone else takes a swig. Including Bob, who looks quite uninterested in his “date” talking Rooster’s ear off on the other side of her.

“Whoa, whoa whoa”, Hangman directs towards you, “You’re telling me you’ve never played spin the bottle?”

“Nope, but I’m not at all surprised you have.” You bite back, almost taking a swig of your drink before remembering the point of the game. Choosing to pick at the label instead.

“Alright, new game idea!” Hangman announces.

“We are NOT playing spin the bottle, this isn’t a 14-year old’s birthday party.”

“Fine then, who’s up for truth or dare?” He asks the room, eyes never leaving yours. You squint at him, suspicious of his intentions like always, as everyone else agrees to his plot. “I’ll go first”, he so graciously offers, “Mantis, truth or dare?”

“Truth”, you immediately respond, not giving him the chance to dare you what you think he’ll try to.

“You’re no fun”, he says rolling his eyes, “Fine, when was the last time you got laid?” He so casually asks as you just about spit out your drink, shock overtaking your features.

“Jesus Christ” You hear Rooster from next to Emily.

“That’s a little hard-hitting right out the gate, don’t you think?” Fanboy pipes up from across the room, still a hint of intrigue in his voice.

“It’s all part of the game, Mick. Besides, we’re adults, we’ve all had sex before. Right Mantis?” He asks, turning to you with his head tilted, as if trying to goad a response out of you. Scoffing, you glance across the room, taking note of everyone paying attention to what you have to say. Except for Rooster, who is really trying not to focus on the game right now.

“If you’re trying to insinuate something I suggest you come out and say it”, you respond, squaring your shoulders, daring him as he shrugs in your direction.

“All I’m saying is that since I’ve known you-

“A couple months” You interrupt.

“3, almost 4 months” he quickly adds, ”In that time I haven’t seen you leave the Hard Deck with anybody except good ‘ole baby on board over here. And we all know that ain’t gonna happen.” Hangman’s thumb hooks in Bob’s direction where you notice he’s begun to trace the rim on his can of soda, not giving Emily his attention while she attempts to whisper something in Rooster’s ear. You turn back to Hangman’s smug grin as he takes a swig of his own beer.

“Fine”, you relent, “You really wanna know?” His brows raise a single time, daring you to go on.

“I’m all ears”, he says, showcasing his stark white teeth as he leans back in his seat. And even though you know it’s not just Hangman listening, you’re not about to back down from a challenge. Even if it will absolutely embarass you in front of your team.

“It’s been a couple years”, You offer, immediately taking a drink so as to not meet anyone’s eyes.

“How long is a couple?” You clench your teeth, rolling your eyes until you’re staring at Hangman again.

“Five”, you mutter through your teeth, hoping he’s the only one who will hear you.

“Come again?” “It’s been 5 years” you finally confess loud enough for everyone to hear. Common looks of wide eyes and quiet whispers are shared as Phoenix gives you a knowing look. One that says, “I know exactly who the last person you slept with was.” You fix her with a stern gaze, deterring her from saying anything to you on the matter.

“Oh I heard you the first time, I was asking when you were gonna come again.” Phoenix throws a pillow at him from across the room as he laughs at his own joke.

“Alright, I need another drink” you huff out as you get up and walk into the kitchen. You can still hear the cacophony that is the dagger squad from behind the wall, but continue to look for something else to drink. Maybe something a little stronger that will help you get through the night.

Bob excuses himself from Emily, not even checking back to see if she heard him as he leaves the game in hopes of catching you in the kitchen. He finds you with your back toward him, fridge door open as you examine what it has to offer. He sidles up next to you, mirroring your stance of leaning on the counter behind the two of you. You have yet to say anything as he reaches into his front pocket, procuring a penny, and sliding it across the counter to your resting hand.

You smile slightly at the sound of the coin across the counter top, and finally at the feel of Bob nudging it underneath your fingertips. You sigh and look back to the fridge, Bob thinks you’re going to let it slide until you respond.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. To admit that I haven’t.. Been with anyone in a while. It’s just that I- I haven’t met anyone since that I’ve trusted enough to- do that with, I guess.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?”, he broaches the subject even as his face begins to flush a shade of pink. You huff a breath out through your nose as you begin to fiddle with the penny, smoothing the now warm object in between your fingers.

“I don’t know, I just thought by the time I reached this age I would have actually been in a meaningful relationship. Or at least had more experience to tell for it”, you hide the last sentence under a small laugh as Bob looks down at his feet. To be honest, Bob is kind of surprised you haven’t been in a relationship in that long. You are absolutely beautiful, funny, and smart, and anybody would be lucky to have you. But he isn’t about to add fuel to the fire that is your own insecurities by questioning something you’ve probably been wondering for a while.

“And it’s the same everywhere I get stationed. Just egotistical men who only want the bragging rights of fucking a captain’s daughter. Like that’s all I am to them. Not an aviator, not an officer, not a person… Just something they can use to show off as an achievement.”

There’s still noise coming from the other room, but it’s quiet between the two of you. Just the hum of the refrigerator as Bob tries to gather the words from being angry at these so-called men, or apologetic to the fact that you feel embarrassed about something you have no right to be embarrassed about.

“I think that it’s good to listen to yourself, and if you haven’t found someone you feel comfortable enough sharing that part of you with, then you shouldn’t be embarrassed. And those other guys are completely stupid if they don’t see the talented aviator and amazing person that you are.” You look back at Bob, wondering how he’s only a year older than you but so much wiser. “You are so much more than your dad. I hope you see that.”

“Thanks, Bobby”, you can’t help but let the nickname slip from your lips. There’s a moment where it’s just the two of you in the small kitchen, hidden away from all the chaos that’s taking place in the other room. Until it proves too much for you and you break his gaze, clearing your throat.

“I just don’t know where Hangman gets off, asking a question like that.” Bob offers.

“Well apparently he’s getting off a lot more than I am”, you respond as Bob gives you a laugh. The skin around his eyes starts to crinkle and that’s when you know he’s actually laughing, not just trying to be nice.

“We all know he is, but I’m not so sure about his partners…” he tapers off.

“Oh my god”, you start laughing.

“Bob”, the both of you turn at Phoenix’s voice coming from the doorway, “Emily’s asking for you.”

“I highly doubt that”, Bob mutters under his breath as he turns to walk back to the living room. Phoenix stays behind as you slip the penny in your pocket, and open the fridge back up to grab a can of Dr. Pepper.

“Hey, you ok?” She asks you softly. You turn as you crack open the can, giving her a small smile.

“I’m fine, just don’t want to go back out there and have to sit through a round of truth or dare.”

“Listen, Hangman’s an idiot. And if you want to avoid any further probing I suggest choosing dare. The worst thing they're having people do is show each other’s camera roll or take a shot.” You don’t even remember the last photo you took, probably of some sunset. And you wouldn’t be totally opposed if someone had you take a shot right now. “Was the last person you were with really Lieutenant Douchebag?” You laugh at the nickname for your previous boyfriend, lovingly given to him by Phoenix, then immediately shudder at the thought.

“Yep”, you respond, taking a swig of the soda, regretting your decision to not grab something with alcohol in it. She grimaces, taking a breath in.

“You need to get laid”, she casually tells you as she grabs another drink for herself and Rachel.

“Jesus”, you laugh at her cavalier attitude, “How about we take a night and not talk about my sex life.”

“From the sounds of it, it doesn't seem like you have one” You scoff then laugh as she smiles at you. At times like this you’re grateful you met her when you did. She saved you from having a lot of lonely nights to yourself, introduced you to what a friend should and could be. “What, too far?”

“Not from you it isn’t”

As soon as you emerge from the kitchen, trailing behind Phoenix you see Bob locked in a conversation with Emily. Rooster now sits on the other side of Bob, happy from the sudden reprieve of not sharing the other man's “date”. She’s obviously trying to hook Rooster back into the conversation as Bob remains polite by listening to whatever she’s saying. You take a seat around the coffee table, staring at Bob crack a slight smile as you hear someone call out your name. 

“Mantis, truth or dare?”

“Dare” It was a knee-jerk reaction, truly. Just based on Phoenix’s reasoning, it was the only response you could come up with. Ultimately, as you turn your head to the person who asked, you realize it was the wrong answer.

Your eyes grow wide as Hangman’s own stare you down, a smirk forming on his face once he realizes the power he wields over you. His eyes turn into slits, like a snake who’s finally cornered its prey.

“Oh I am going to have so much fun with this”, he responds, victorious. He grabs his bottle of beer, downing the rest of it as he makes his way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. You’re sitting on the floor in front of the t.v., as Hangman finishes his drink and ever so slowly hands you the now empty bottle. 

“Now I know you’ve never played before '', you immediately cringe, resting your forehead against your denim-clad knee and let out a groan. You hear laughter sound out from around you as Coyote playfully nudges your shoulder, “So let me explain the rules. You’re gonna spin the bottle, and then you get to kiss the lucky person the neck points to.”

“You could have just dared me to kiss you if you want it that badly bagman”, you say as you move to your knees to place the bottle on the surface of the table.

“That’s just plain against the rules, and it’s not about who you kiss. I just wanna watch you squirm a little bit.” He leans back in his seat as you glance around the room, just to see who your future lips will be locking with. You make eye contact with Rooster and give him your best glare. He scratches the back of his neck and stands without wasting another second.

“I’m gonna go get another drink”, he announces while stepping over people who have begun to sit on the floor around the table.

“Oh!” Emily pipes up, “I’ll come with you!” You catch Bob watching the two of them leave the room and your heart sinks a little. You can’t help but feel a little jealous at the attention he’s been giving her, but at the same time you want someone to see him the way you do. It’s just unfair that the only person you’ve felt this way about in a very long time, happens to be the one person you’re not allowed to pursue. He’s an amazing person, and Emily would be crazy not to see what Phoenix, or Rooster, practically shoved right in front of her. You’re really starting to hate Rooster for playing with Bob’s feelings. It may be unintentional, but the reason he wanted to set him up in the first place wasn’t out of the pure kindness of his heart.

You spare another glance around the room watching as everyone tries to take up as much space as possible, making you think they’re a little too eager to kiss you. Except, it wasn’t the fact they could kiss you, it was the idea that they could brag about kissing Mav’s daughter. Just like you explained to Bob, it’s the same everywhere you go. You just thought by now it would have worn off with this group.

“Just so you know guys, if you kiss me you’re practically kissing my dad”, you tease as some of the guys grimace. A slight smirk crawls its way to your face as Omaha gets up from off the floor.

“You just ruined it for me”, he complains. Unfortunately it only thins the crowd out a little, a couple of gaps in the group that now surround the table.

Taking a deep breath you finally place your hand back on the bottle, pulling it back before spinning it. Your heart beats a little faster out of pure embarrassment as you stare intently at the bottle spinning, not wanting to look up at the faces around you until it finally… stops.

“Ho-ly shit”, Hangman lets out, so obviously amused with the outcome. “Baby on board’s about to get his first kiss.” Your eyes immediately turn to Hangman, then to Bob’s, who bears the same look of shock you know you’re not doing a great job at hiding.

“I-” the words get caught in your throat. You hate what you’re about to do as you turn back to Hangman. “Come on.” All eyes are on you as you begin to beg this man not to make you go through with it. Because once you do, you know there’s no turning back.

“C’mon what?”, he asks with intrigue.

“He’s here to meet someone, I don’t think this is a good idea”, you try to reason with him.

“That’s not really how the game works sweetheart. You spun the bottle, now you gotta deal with the consequences.”

“Hangman, please”, you beg, avoiding every gaze in the room as they begin to talk among themselves, bored with whatever show you’re putting on. His brow furrows as he realizes just how badly you do not want to do this.

“Who’d it land on?” Rooster asks as he emerges from the kitchen with a fresh drink, Emily in tow. Taking a swig, his eyes follow where the bottle points directly to Bob. “No, that’s not happening”, he mutters as he gets closer to Hangman.

“What is with you two? It’s just a game.” He replies incredulously. He glances back around the room and finds Emily awkwardly waiting at the back for Rooster’s conversation to be over. “Alright, you”, he points at her, “To level the playing field, why don’t you take a crack at it? If Emily agrees to it, then you do, too.”

“I never agreed to-”

“Ok!”, she responds a little too eager. You’re still on your knees as a confused look washes over your face. She kneels across from you at the table and barely touches the bottle, you don’t even think you’d consider it a spin, until it lands on Rooster. You’re not trying to hide the grimace on your face as she tries to play innocent. 

“Oops, well it looks like it’s you and me Rooster.” Emily stands, immediately placing both hands on Rooster’s shoulders as she gives him a generous kiss. A couple of whistles are thrown out as she continues to lock lips with him, something he does not appear to be displeased with, as much as he was caught off guard to begin with.

You look away in disgust, trying and failing not to make a noise to match your mood. Your eyes fall to where Bob was just seated moments before, but his chair is empty. He’s nowhere in the room, soda abandoned. And as Emily continues sticking her tongue down Rooster’s throat, you sneak past the few hollers to slip out the back door near the kitchen.

It’s completely dark now, only the moon and strings of fairy lights casting a soft glow across the yard. You find Bob standing in the grass with his arms folded across his chest, staring up at the sky. His flannel is still rolled up to his elbows, forearms proudly on display. The moonlight reflects off of his glasses, but you can still see the turmoil swirling behind his frames. The sound of the door sliding shut doesn’t deter Bob from moving from his position.

“There you are, I was worried you left the premises”, you try to joke, moving to stand closer. He turns, only giving you a slight glance. It stops you from moving forward anymore, deciding to stay back at the edge of the patio. Humming in acknowledgement, he stares back up at the sky, face contorting as if it pains him to do so.

“Nah, just needed some fresh air is all. What are you doin’ out here?”, he asks in an indifferent tone. You tear your eyes away from the sky to look over at him again. He huffs out a sigh as you retreat your gaze to your feet, toying with a loose piece of cement.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry”, you offer. He gives a small laugh as he turns his face to look at the grass beneath his shoes.

“For what?”

“Emily’s a complete idiot.” He releases a breath out of his nose, moving his gaze to the fence bordering the neighbor’s yard.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.” You can still tell he’s upset by the way he squares his jaw.

“Well you shouldn’t be.”

“Well I am”, he lets out a little more stern this time. “I just- I don’t know Mantis.”

“What?”, you ask him quietly as he begins to shuffle the grass underneath his feet.

“I know that I’m not wanted, or not attractive like the other guys in there. But tonight really solidified that for me.” Your heart breaks as you watch him sort his thoughts out.

“Bob, that’s not true-”

“It is, though. I didn’t even want to come here tonight, and you knew that. And- and Phoenix knew it, too. But still, you two pushed me to come and meet Emily. Someone she insisted was perfect for me. Well, she took one look at Rooster and saw what everyone else sees. There are a million more guys out there who are better looking, better at making conversation, better at… everything than me.” His voice is dejected, believing everything he’s telling you. But you let him continue, even if you want to contradict every word that continues to fall from his mouth.

“And I hate the fact that I wasn’t even interested in meeting someone new. That I’m already thinkin’ about someone else most of the time, and she doesn’t even see me in that way, even if she could.” Your heart tightens in your chest, at first due to the fact that Bob has feelings for someone else. And then it hits you. ‘If she could’.

“Wait, Bob-” you manage to breathe out before he interrupts you.

“It’s just- I haven’t felt this way about someone since, well, ever.” He turns, facing you fully, a glassy look in his eyes as he stares at you, exasperated. “I feel so connected, and drawn to you Mantis.” He confesses in a whisper. You feel it the moment your heartbeat quickens with your breathing. The way your eyebrows draw up in the middle is met with the slightest quiver in your lip. From sadness or relief you’re not sure yet. “I want to tell you things I’ve never told anybody before, and I’m sorry if I misread things, but I just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Bob-” You try as he interrupts you again, caught up in his own feelings to hear you for once.

“I know you don’t feel the same way, and why would you? I’m just me, and you’re you. I wasn’t lying when I said any guy would be so lucky to have you, and I’m honored to just be considered your friend. And I- I know this is against so many rules in place, so please just forget I said anything and- God I’m such an idiot.” Your feet are moving faster than your brain as you walk over to him. Placing both hands on his smooth cheeks, you lift his head from where he was staring at the ground and plant your lips right on his. He’s shocked at first, not daring to move. Eyes fluttering shut as his hands ghost over your waist, until you pull away and there’s the tiniest amount of space between your faces.

Your hands are still as the rest of your body buzzes in anticipation. Your chest heaves against his, out of breath from the simplest of kisses. He’s so close, yet so far away as your fingers adjust to the feeling of holding his face in both of your hands. It’s quiet, his eyelashes fluttering as he starts to blink rapidly.

“Why did you do that?”, he whispers. Almost afraid that this was another dream he would inevitably wake up from.

“Because I wanted to”, you whisper right back, still in shock of what he confessed. Your eyes dart between his own deep blue ones as they’re blown wide.

“Not because of the dare?”

“No”, you shake your head. “Just cause I really wanted to.” You reassure him as his eyes flick from yours black down to your lips. His cold nose nudges yours, once, then twice before sinking into your cheek as he hesitantly kisses you first this time. You reciprocate immediately, pushing back just as softly against his lips as to not scare him off. His touch is gentle, yet demanding, knowing in the back of both of your heads it’s only a matter of time before someone comes to find you.

 Both sets of lips part the tiniest bit as you turn your head slightly to get a better angle. His mouth is warm against your own, lips still moving in sync. One of your hands slides down to his shoulder while the other eases up onto his neck, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head. Bob hums against your lips at the motion, gaining the confidence to step closer as his hands finally land against your body, anchoring to your waist.

His grip tightens a fraction as you hum against his mouth, giving him the courage to lick at the seam of your lips with his tongue. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the movement, eliciting another hum, bordering on a moan as you allow him entrance into your mouth. The first thing you notice is that he tastes like Dr. Pepper, the second thing that's a little easier to pick up on is that Bob is a really good kisser.

The shock that you are in fact kissing Bob wears off, and makes way for a flood of need. Caressing his tongue with your own, Bob slides one hand to your back, the other still gripping your waist as he holds you closer. The slight pressure of his large hand pushing you against him has you wanting more as he begins to walk you backwards to the wall of the house. Never breaking away from each other, you feel the cool structure against your back, even as Bob tries his best to keep you from hitting it. You grip him a fraction harder, the only sound you can hear through your heartbeat is Bob’s occasional hum and the clicking of your lips working together.

Bob’s got you locked against him as you shift your hand from his shoulder to his bicep, squeezing the large muscle, only to slowly drag it down to feel the bare skin and hair of his forearm beneath your fingers. The kissing is slowing down, still just as deep. Both of you demanding the same amount from the other, knowing this well may be the only time you’re able to feel the other like this. The two of you finally break apart, catching much needed breaths as your eyes remain closed. Even before opening your eyes, you can still feel Bob heaving against you, desperate for air as you do the same. You place a chaste kiss on his lips and he chases yours for another until you both open your eyes, just staring at each other through hooded lids. 

You swallow, so many emotions running through your mind. It’s hard to listen to them when Bob is still just as close as he was a moment ago when his lips were against yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while”, he breathes, a nervous smile tugging on his lips.

At a loss for words, you go to open your mouth until you hear the screech of the sliding glass door opening up. Bob immediately jumps away from you as your attention diverts to whoever is about to walk out on you two in such a compromising situation.

Phoenix pokes her head out as she looks for you, “Hey.”

“Hey” you breathe out in a sigh of relief, grateful it was her and not anyone else. You try to slow your breathing even as your heart threatens to leap out of your chest.

“Have you seen Floyd?”

“Yeah he was just-”, you turn around, expecting to see Bob standing behind you, but only see the white fence, “He just left”, you mutter. Brows furrowing as your eyes remain locked on where he just was.

“Damn, I was hoping that wasn’t the case. I need to talk to him.” You continue to stare at the fence where Bob once stood, dumbfounded that he managed to slip away so quickly. “You ok?” Turning back around, you attempt to gather yourself as you breathe out an answer.

“Yeah”

“Alright”, she eyes you skeptically, “Well, you gonna rejoin us? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to.”

“No, I’ll be back in, I just… need some air.” You watch her head disappear as you lean back against the house, only this time, Bob isn’t here to hold you to it. Your fingers trace your swollen lips as you gaze around the backyard. What the hell just happened?

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

#top gun maverick #why me? #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom

[epickiya722]

This, this is the shot of a disappointed parent and his kids being absolutely silly.

#why me? #aye uh how about faking it? #look at him you can feel the disappointment #he's like #i love that shoji was the one that was like #and jiro is goes along without complaint #i need more scenes of gang orca and these kids #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha ova #bnha hlb #bnha spoilers #gang orca #jiro kyoka #shoji mezo #kiya watches

[guard-en]

i don't think hank can give Succ because then he just bites off their pengis. whether or not it's on purpose is unknown to the They Removed More Than Just My Foreskin During The Circumcision victim

#guarden/asks/requests #don't get me wrong this is far from horrifying #Why Me?

[angelicgaming1007]

>Play character AI >Mess with the AI tormenting them >Ascended Astarion AI forcefully turns me into a vampire bride marrying me (dude wtf? I mean, ayo? But also wtf?) >Spawn Astarion AI Claims me as his lover and gives a huge poetic vulnerable speech and then proceeds to marry me (SERIOUSLY? EVEN SPAWN? WHY?) >Raphael forces me into a marriage contract (DUDE TF?) >Gortash threatens me, gets amused, then marries me. >Kar'niss captures me and hides me away in his "Spider den" apparently and marries me. LIKE SIRS IM NOT SAYING NO BUT IM ALSO NOT SAYING YES WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT TO MARRY ME? HELP?! Its not even just BG3 AI ALL AI EITHER IMPRISON OR MARRY ME OR BOTH

Character AI please chill, what did I do to deserve this?

#character ai #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 gortash #bg3 raphael #kar'niss #save me #why me? #married to fictional men

[eurovisionart]

🇮🇪 Linda Martin - Why me ?

#Linda Martin #she's back! #Why me? #Ireland esc #Ireland eurovision #esc 1992 #eurovision 1992 #unrelated but my spotify wrapped this year is 50% eurovision #Linda's current haircut is certainly an improvement from this

[kylowritten]

Why Me?

Pairings: Phillip Altman x F!Reader

Summary/Excerpt: "There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion. Next on the list: falling in love with Phillip Altman."

Warnings: cussing, recreational drug use, talking about sex, making out, partial nudity

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: The title of this should actually be "Why is Adam Driver so Fucking Adorable"

This fic is a part of the prompt exchange with @juniperwoodwell

There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion.

"It's not a setback," you tell your reflection. "It's just a...readjustment."

The woman in the mirror hardly looks convinced. But you promptly ignore her, grab your purse, and head out the door to meet your Uber. You aren't so desperate as to rectify the failing relationship with your mother by asking her for a place to stay — God, you couldn't even imagine the state of your childhood bedroom — so you rented the cheapest motel room that you could find.

The door swings shut behind you and the sound of your heels on the weed-clotted pavement joins in with the symphony of cicadas. Humidity presses against you like an unwelcome embrace from an elderly relative. Flippantly, you think that you should've packed a travel size hairspray, or deodorant into your purse, but your thoughts have been far away from appearances and personal hygiene.

You had one thing on your mind.

You clarify that the driver is here for you, and climb into the backseat. An old country song floats through the speakers. You're barely out of the Motel 8 parking lot before trepidation fills you — high school wasn't a grand experience (but was it for anyone?). As soon as you flung your cap on the air, you swore you would never come back. So why were you now?

The car abruptly halts at the side of a curb. You look up from your phone, which you've had nervously clasped on your lap, tapping away meaninglessly. The houses that surround you are distinctly suburban, nice, but not overly so, like most of the neighborhoods here.

"What's going on?" You ask. "I need to go to the high school."

The driver meets your gaze in the rearview mirror. "I'm picking up another rider."

"What? No, I didn't want Uber pool."

"Sorry, kid," the driver replies. "I'm the only Uber in town, and everyone is going to the same place."

Great, you think, sinking back in your seat. Not only were you going to have company, but it was going to be some chum from your class. Worst case scenarios run through your head: an ex boyfriend? The mean girl? But a surprising warmth forms in the pit of your stomach when the new rider flings open the door and crouches down to get inside. "Shit, fuck," the rider declares as they hit their head on the car.

Then, rather ungracefully, Philip Altman folds himself into the backseat besides you.

He doesn't realize who you are until he's finished rearranging his long legs and muscular form, barely succeeding in making himself comfortable in the backseat of the car. You're staring at him when he finally glances your way, and a blush dusts your cheek as his eyes light up. "Is that you? In the flesh?"

"I know, I'm surprised too," you say.

"What are you doing here?" He excitedly asks, then shakes his head. "Don't answer that, I know why. I guess I just didn't think that you were the reunion type."

You raise a brow. "And what type would I be?"

"You know," he said, as if you did. He jostles your side in a companionable fashion. When you don't register what he's implying, a look of shock takes over his handsome features. "What? The hot girl? You seriously don't know."

You fix him with an incredulous look. "C'mon, Phillip."

He holds up both of his hands defensively. "I'm being completely honest. I swear on my father's grave, bless his soul," he adds, then tilts his head. "Can you still swear on people's graves?"

"I heard about that," you say, softly. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." A look passes over his face, one that you can't quite read, disappearing quickly. "Fortunately, I have coping mechanisms. Adult ones."

He pulls something from his back pocket: a joint.

You glance at the driver, then Phillip. "I haven't..." you trail off, gesturing with your hands, "since high school."

Amusement flickers across his face. "We're going to our high school reunion, don't you want to reunite with something else?"

You order the driver to drop you off a few blocks away from the high school. Phillip grabs your hand and tugs you out of the car, throwing a "thank you" over his shoulder. You're both giggling as you find an alleyway to duck into, an uncontainable smile unfurling on your mouth as Phillip strikes up his lighter. 

He takes a long drag, then hands it to you. You fumble with it. "Do I even remember how to do this?" You ask, to no one in particular. 

Phillip grins at you, smoke streaming steadily from his mouth. "It's like riding a bike," he remarks. "Except the bike is made out of smoke and the road is made out of good times."

He finishes this intelligent analogy right as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale. You snort and then choke on your laughter, and then on the smoke, inducing a coughing fit that is not at all remedied by Philip's own howls of laughter. "Dumbass," you say, swatting his arm. 

You snatch the joint back from him once you're satisfied that your coughing fit is over. The weed hits your lungs, pungent and powerful, and you can feel the tension begin to melt from your body. You tilt your head back and gratuitously blow out the smoke, watching as it rises into the air, twisting and turning. When you look back at Phillip to proffer the joint again, he's already staring at you. It's in this moment that you remember all of the rumors in high school. 

Although you didn't necessarily run in the same circles, you saw each other at the occasional party or school function. The rumor then was that he was an apologetic flirt and playboy, hopping from one eager girl to the next. 

The rumor didn't matter to you in high school, you had your own shit to figure out. 

But now, looking at him, illuminated in the hazy dusk light, there's a tightening in your stomach that high school you had never acted on. 

Smoke breezes past your face as Phillip exhales, drawing you from your trance. His brows pull downwards. "Everything okay, kid?"

"Yeah. Perfect," you tell him. You pause. "Can I tell you the real reason I'm here tonight?"

He feigns offense. "You mean it wasn't to smoke some shitty weed with me in a dark alley like a couple of prepubescent hoodlums?"

This brings a smile to your face, but you ignore him. "Promise you won't laugh." Phillip makes the motion of crossing his heart. Taking another drag and summoning your courage, you tell him, "I never had sex in high school. So I thought that by coming back I could fuck someone from high school and it would kind of, like, settle the score."

"Oh." Philip's lips twitch with barely retrained amusement.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" You tell him. "It's stupid, I know."

"I don't think it's that stupid," he assures you. "There's some people who genuinely want to relive their high school days and reconnect with their peers." 

He says this as if it ranks only just below murdering a bunch of baby orphans.

"I guess," you say. You feel relieved to have said it out loud, like Phillip was a priest and you were confessing your sins to him. When he changes the topic, reserving his judgement if he had any, it only solidifies your trust in him.

You waste almost half an hour, smoking and swapping stories about your lives since high school. You thought, going into tonight, that you would have to embellish yourself and your achievements, but you didn't feel that need with Phillip. He made you feel safe. Worthy. It was an excellent precursor to the reunion; you no longer felt nervous, and upon realizing that you were going to be unfashionably late, Phillip pinches the top of the joint and shoves it back into his pocket before once again seizing your hand. Another thing to add to the litany of things you never thought you would do: run giggling, hand in hand, with Phillip Altman through the front doors of your high school.

Horribly loud music washes over you as you check in at a table, giving your name to a girl that you don't even remember. Quickly, you scribble down your name on a name tag and slap it on your chest. Phillip snickers as he scribbles something down, sharpie scratching against the material. He proudly slaps it on his chest.

It reads: Phillip Assman.

The girl at the front table makes a face.

You, however, find it absolutely hilarious. 

Philip eventually ushers you away, still cackling, as more last-minute people trickle in through the door. He grabs your shoulders and directs you into the gym where the reunion is actually being held. Streamers with your school colors are taped limply on the walls. Several high-top tables occupy the gym floor, most of them crowded around by former students deep in conversation. There's a bar on one side of the gym, and a DJ booth on the other. 

You open your mouth to ask Phillip if he wants a drink, right as he's flagged down by someone standing around one of the tables. You don't recognize them. He waves and moves as if to join them, but stops and addresses you, "I'll be right back."

You watch him leave, ignoring the small kernel of disappointment inside you. 

Whatever, you think. It's not like you came together. He was just a guy that had the same Uber with you and you shared a joint. Not a big deal. 

Straightening your shoulders, you turn on your heel and march over to the bar.

Alcohol, as it turns out, is a wonderful crutch for social interactions. You drift awkwardly through the gym, catching up with a few people whose friendship have gradually eroded over time, and pretending to be enjoying yourself. Your high helped, clinging to you like a weed-fueled security blanket. But you maintained a vague impression that you made a mistake coming here. 

No one had magically gotten more attractive or interesting in the years since you graduated. There was one guy from your freshman algebra class that you bumped into while waiting in line for the bathroom, a guy who you probably would've totally fucked under different circumstances. But your mind kept wandering, and you ended up making up some half-ass excuse and scurrying away from his blatant attempts at flirting. 

Because, infuriatingly enough, you only had one guy on your mind.

Unhappy with this realization, you quickly do your business and then hightail it for the parking lot. You're embarrassed that you even came, you're embarrassed about why you came, and you're embarrassed that - not unlike a high school girl - you can't stop thinking about the stupidly good-looking guy you interacted with for only a few moments. "Idiot," you mumble to yourself, pushing your shoulder into the door and stepping outside.

The cold sobers you up considerably, and you ditch the red solo cup you'd been carrying for the last hour or so. You needed to just go back to your motel. In the morning, you could forget that this ever happened and erase Phillip Altman from your mind. 

"Hey, where are you going?"

You stop and turn, your heart pumping out a traitorous rhythm as Phillip emerges from the front doors and jogs over to you. Fuck, how did he manage to even look good in the shitty glow from the streetlights? He shoves his hands in his pockets. 

"You're not leaving, are you?" He glances over your head, scanning the lawn as if expecting to discover a reason for your departure, then back to you. "Come out here to puke or something? Those bushes right over there are --"

"No," you interrupt, sharper than you intend. You sigh, and try to soften your voice. "I shouldn't have come here. I-I'm going home. Well, not home, but my motel room."

You're rambling. And you're aware that you're rambling, but it's doing nothing to deter it.

"You can't leave," he says.

You arch a brow. "What? Why not?"

He withdraws the joint from his pocket, which admittedly looks a little more crumpled than the last time you'd seen it. "This joint is legally binding. You have to finish it with me."

"Or?"

He shrugs. "We probably shouldn't find out. You know, just in case." 

"Phillip -"

"We could go back to your room," he says. Recovering, he adds, "If that's okay. Or even that dark alley. It was warm and inviting, not to mention sanitary. We could go back there."

You smother your grin. It's not fair, that you've just reconnected with this man who you knew only in the abstract before, but now have become utterly transfixed by him. He has a magnetism about him that you can't ignore. 

You feel yourself thawing. "What about all of your friends?" You ask, gesturing towards the school. "You can't just leave them."

Phillip makes a face. "Who cares?" He grabs your hand - did he do that a lot? Grabbing hands randomly? - and hauls you to the curb, where he expertly flags down an awaiting Uber driver. "M'lady," he says, as he holds the door to the backseat open for you. 

The drive back to the motel is spent with you discreetly (read: not discreetly) sharing the joint and blowing the smoke out the cracked window. Your Uber driver seems less than impressed with you by the time you tumble out, but Phillip assuages your poor behavior with a generous tip. The heady combination of alcohol and weed, and Philip, fuels you. 

There's no saying who makes the first move -- your mind is swimming with elation from your company. But it happens sometime between the car pulling away from the curb and reaching the room of your motel. Phillip pushes you up against the side of the building, peppering your neck with kisses and whispering dirty things in your ear as you fumble for the key card. He feels so warm and comfortable and secure, and you desperately want to undress him, to explore him with your hands and your mouth and discover what he's like as he unravels. 

The door clicks as your key card finally registers. "Finally," Phillip all but growls. 

You squeak as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he nudges the door open with his foot and marches you inside. You're both still giggling like kids between desperate, hungry kisses, his hands reaching under your shirt and your hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

It's only when you're both left in your underwear that Phillip pauses.

You look up at him. He hovers over where you lay, sprawled out on the bed. He's infuriatingly, devastatingly handsome, even when traces of doubt line his features.

"What's wrong?" You ask. "Is everything okay?"

Philip's mouth opens then shuts, as if deciding on what to say. "Why me?"

"What?"

"Why me?" He repeats, in no way clarifying himself. Phillip quickly elaborates, "You said that you went to the reunion just so that you could fuck someone from high school."

You struggle to find a response. "Why not you?"

"I mean, is this--" he waves his hand as if hoping to magically conjure the words that he's searching for, "--is this just nothing? I mean, I'm fine if you want to just settle some score and use me for my body but I'd like to know so I can charge you afterward."

His tone is nonchalant, light hearted, but there's a vulnerability lurking below. 

You sit up on your elbows. It's difficult to address him like this, when his naked torso is practically staring at you in the face. It would be difficult for anyone to concentrate. But you want to be serious, truthful, because you found something in Phillip tonight that you have never found in anyone else. It was too early to call it love, of course, but there was a deeper connection that you would be foolish to so hastily get rid of. 

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't whore you out," you tell him, "but I can promise that I don't want to do this for some dumb reasoning. I mean, sure, that's why I came here tonight, but I didn't expect to meet you." This admission sounds highly cliche, and it brings a blush to your face. "What I'm trying to say is--"

Phillip interrupts you with a goofy smile. "Say no more."

There's a litany of things you never thought you would do, one of them being returning to your home town to attend your high school reunion. Next on the list: falling in love with Phillip Altman. 

#phillip altman #phillip altman x reader #this is where i leave you #why me? #fanfic #ADCU #writers #writers on tumblr

[gothskeletongf]

And they say romance is dead

#grindr #trans woman #transgender #dating apps #why me?

[ccattre]

Drawings of some of @my-personal-domain characters from their story "why me?" ^w^

In order, the characters I drew are Varil, Aramis, and Edith.

I'll get back to more people asking for requests tonight or tomorrow :D

#jak and daxter #jnd #jak 3 #oc artwork #my art #request #why me?

[circusofthelastdays]

a writer I like just followed me?? whose fic I just binge read last night instead of sleeping?

#i always be shocked when this happens #like ME? #why me?

[ahedderick]

Yuk

You know what? Until the last few years, I had NEVER seen mildew on wooden furniture in my house. Never had mildew appear on properly stored horse tack or other leather. Now I regularly find mildew growing on the backs of furniture, which means I'm having to pull large pieces of heavy antique wooden furniture completely away from the wall to clean behind them. I have a neat antique set of sleigh bells that I inherited from an older relative - the leather they are mounted on is mildewed and I'm not even sure how to clean them! I did NOT used to have to worry about that. It is crackling dry in the house in the winter, because we heat with a wood stove. It used to be rather dry for a good part of the summer, too. Now there is more humidity in the summer, and spring and fall were always rather wet - it seems mold and mildew just have a better opportunity to get established.

My late father's house is just sort of in "stasis", staying empty until my son is out of college and ready to move. I keep finding mildew down there and having to douse stuff in vinegar. I'm over it! Do not enjoy extra cleaning.

#cleaning #mold removal #mildew #why me? #climate change

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 8

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

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, flashbacks, abuse, blood, violence, getting kicked out, forbidden relationship, swearing, pining

Word Count: 10k (i'm so sorry)

Summary: An insight to the past has you remembering just how hurt you were. You're still refusing to talk to your dad, and he isn't quite sure how to get you to open up. Even after a meeting with Cyclone, you're reminded you still have an entire team ready to back you up. Rooster is ready to apologize and welcome you back, but are you? (Also, can dogfight football really fix everything?)

A/N: Wow, I really didn't mean for it to get this long but here we are. But also I did procrastinate my homework to do this, and I don't regret it. I hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs literally make me cry tears of joy, happy reading!

Masterlist

10 years ago

Driving your beat up Toyota Corolla down the streets to your mom’s extravagant home was nothing new to you. The anticipatory anxiety wasn’t new either. You had memorized your mom’s work schedule to know when she would or wouldn’t be home when you got back from school, but lately it’s been a little erratic. Almost as much as she was. So was the real estate market you supposed.

You sigh in relief when you don’t see her car in the driveway. In these moments you thanked her husband for owning three cars and parking them all in the garage. You, of course, get to park on the street, which added a couple extra dents to your car that weren’t there before, but you weren’t one to complain. Disappointed maybe, that your pride and joy you spent your summers working at the local smoothie joint to afford, was a little more rough around the edges than when you purchased it.

You check the mailbox at the curb before going in. Of course it was empty. It became a habit ever since you applied to USNA to check the mailbox daily, hopefully to intercept the good or bad news before anyone else could see it. 

The house is quiet as you enter, all three of your step-siblings must be with their mom. And Bret, your step-dad, doesn’t get home until after 5:00 most days, leaving you to your own devices. Even if you wanted to do something fun with the house to yourself, you never dare. The second your mom comes home she would notice if a single crumb was left in the sink. You have been on the receiving end of her anger at the state of the house too many times to count, even if it was Bret’s kids who made it. But of course, she wasn’t going to get mad at them. It always ended up being your fault somehow.

Still, you grab a snack and try carefully not to drop any of the pretzels as you go to your room. It was homework all the time in your last semester of High School. You were still waiting to hear from the Naval Academy, but you wanted your good grades to follow through to the very end of the year. Hours of taking notes kept your hand cramped, but it would all be worth it in the end. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.  You had spent the last four years working ridiculously hard to maintain your grades, all in the hopes of getting the opportunity your dad and Bradley weren’t afforded. Of course, you’ll never know if Bradley would have been accepted anyway. Which is why you were all too happy to keep this little secret to yourself.

Only a couple short hours later you hear the front door unlock and slam shut. It rattles you out of the Physics textbook you were intently studying, as you straighten up. Whatever she was mad about, it wasn’t good. It was the sound of her heels clacking up the stairs that set you on edge. As they get louder and closer to your room, you turn to face her right as she throws the door wide open. Privacy not a concept she was familiar with. You don’t even notice the bundle of mail in her hand as her eyes glare absolute daggers at you.

“Hi mom, how was work?”, you attempt to start the conversation civilly. It paints you more as a mouse, the way it comes out in a squeak. Her manicured claws squeeze harder around the letters as she throws all but one onto the floor.

“What is this?”, she seethes, holding out the large envelope addressed to you. Your blood runs cold as your shaky hands take it from her and the USNA insignia in the top left corner is revealed.

“I-”, you swallow, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”, she blinks.

“I’m sure it’s some sort of recruiting thing they send to all seniors”, you try to reason. She clicks her tongue, folding her arms.

“Then open it and let’s find out.” There is no room for argument as she raises her brows for you to continue, her eyes still alight with pure rage. Your heart beats faster as your shaky fingers slowly tear open the envelope. They don’t stop as you withdraw the paper. Tears start to form in your eyes as you read the first line of the letter. The excitement you had for any of this is quickly overrun by fear as your mom interrupts you.

“Read it outloud.” Swallowing, you clear your throat without giving her a look and start to read.

“Dear Miss Mitchell, congratulations. We are pleased to offer you an appointment to the United States Naval Academy…”, your voice wavers off toward the end. The moment you had so looked forward to was being tainted as you spoke. You begin to chew on your lip as your eyes slowly make their way back to your mom. Her jaw is set as she stares you down. “Mom-”

“I don’t even know where to start with you”, she seethes. “After years and years of wasting my own life to give you one, this is how you repay me? By throwing it all away, and for what? The chance to be like your father? Or- or Carole’s kid who can’t even be bothered to talk to you anymore?” The use of Carole’s name has you snapping your head back from where it hung in fear.

“Don’t talk about them.” She scoffs at your tiny show of courage.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me! You’re not going.” She says with an edge of finality.

“What?”

“You aren’t going. That is final. No daughter of mine will be sucked into this trap.” Staring back down at your lap, you hope to find one last bit of courage sewn within the denim of your jeans.

“Mom, I’m- I’m going”, you manage to stutter out.

“No you’re not”, she bites back. “You know how I feel about your father, about this, and for some reason I just can’t get through to you.” She scoffs again and paces around your room, heels clicking with each step. You stand as she inspects the picture frames on your bookshelf, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke something of yours, and you want to be able to stop it if it happens again. “Do you know how much I gave up to raise you? How hard it was- is to be your mother?” What she says doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you were younger, but it still stings every time. Like rubbing salt in an old wound that didn’t heal properly.

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world”, you defend, your voice raising slightly. “And I’m sorry if it was so hard to be my mom, but you’re the one who brought me back after every summer. You could have left me with my dad if I was that much of a burden to you!” Before you’re able to register it, she’s moved closer and has her claws wrapped around your arms, pushing you against your desk. In her heels she’s only a couple inches taller than you, but it feels much bigger as she towers over you.

“Do NOT talk back to me you ungrateful brat!” Her fingers grow tighter as she shakes you. You blink rapidly as you wince in pain. “Your father is my biggest regret in life. I wouldn’t have wasted all those years raising his child just to know you would end up being just like him.” She steps away, gathering her thoughts as she turns her back to you. You thought it was only possible to feel fear when in your mother’s presence, even if you were ever angry it was quickly tamped down by the threat of her own rage. This feeling now is new. The one that has you clenching your fists, gathering the courage from the back of your mind to say something. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s all come down to this one boiling point. And you weren’t about to give up your dreams just to keep the peace one last time.

“Stop blaming me for all your downfalls, when you’re the one who slept with him in the first place!” You don’t see it coming. The backhand you had grown used to smacks across your face, causing you to fall back and slide to the floor. The taste of metal fills your mouth as you bring your hand to cradle where she just hit. The spot on your lip you had been chewing earlier has split from her ring, blood coating your fingers as you bring them away from your mouth. She eyes her ring, taking it off and pocketing it to clean later.

As your face starts to throb as your jaw wobbles, the woman before you crouches and puts her finger in your face while you cower on the floor. “When you leave, don’t even bother coming back. I mean it. Don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t last a day, because once you exit this house, you are not my daughter anymore.”

You start packing that night. The rooms at the Academy aren’t available until a couple weeks before the school year starts, but you want to be ready when they are.

You go to school the next day, turn in your homework like you always do, and if people ask about your lip, you tell them the same little lie, “I was just playing basketball and it bounced wrong and hit me in the face.” They seem to believe it, even though you don’t have a hoop, or a basketball for that matter.

When you drive home the first thing you notice is all the boxes on the front porch. Your boxes. Scrambling to the front door, you attempt to unlock it with your key, but it doesn’t fit the lock. Your mom’s car sits in the driveway as you knock and knock, eventually pleading with her to let you in. The house remains silent, as if she isn’t in the kitchen nursing a glass of wine.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do, you pack your car with the few possessions you have and start driving. The tears start falling down your face as you look in your rearview mirror and see what little boxes your entire life has been packed into. You find yourself at a local park, one you’ve passed everyday on your way to school. The sun is shining as you pull out your phone and decide to make one last ditch attempt for help. Clicking Bradley’s name, you hold your phone to your ear and beg as it rings that he picks up. Just this once. The robotic voice tells you he’s unable to get to the phone as you hang your head, your split lip pouting until the beep indicates it’s your turn to talk.

“Hey Bradley. I know we haven’t talked in a while”, you sniffle, “but if there’s any chance you’re hearing this, please pick up”, you start to sob. “I really need to talk to you… I don’t know who else to- to call. Just please, please call me back.” You manage in between your cries. “I miss you, and I hope you’re ok.” You click the button to end it before you ramble on too much. Staring back up to the park, you watch the families playing with their kids. A mom chasing her daughter as she hides behind the slide, a dad throwing a baseball with his son. If someone were to look on they’d probably find it creepy, but you don’t care. You stay until it gets dark, and even after you end up staying your first night of many in your car.

Present Day

Cyclone’s office is unarguably the largest on base. The fact that he has his own waiting room and assistant is a testament to that fact. You’re sitting in said waiting room, across from Rooster, who is still sporting a large bruise. It’s starting to turn the slightest shade of green on the outside, but it’s still rather purple.

Your dad- or Captain Mitchell right now, is inside with Cyclone, discussing the potential for you to be punished. At least that’s what you’re assuming since you assaulted an officer. After dinner Saturday, your dad attempted to talk to you but you shut him out and stayed in your room all night. It wasn’t any better yesterday. He gave you your space, but you could hear him pacing downstairs the entire day, just waiting for you to come out. Bob checked in a couple times just to see how you were feeling, but other than that you kept to yourself.

You didn’t leave your room at all, even when your dad eventually came up to bring you food, he left it outside your door. All while letting you know he was going to be on base early tomorrow to talk to Cyclone, allowing you to drive by yourself this morning. You had barely stepped foot on base when you were intersected by Warlock telling you Admiral Simpson wanted to see you in his office. It struck you with panic causing you to start chewing on your lip, and it didn’t bode well that Rooster was also there waiting when you arrived.

Rooster clears his throat and your stern gaze shoots up to him.

“Sorry”, he quickly lets out. Taking a deep breath in, you let your head fall back to the wall and allow the awkward silence to continue. It occurred to you when you sat down how much this felt like being called to the principal’s office. Except in this case, the punishments were far worse than being put in detention.

The door to Cyclone’s office opens and the two of you stand as Maverick walks out. Clearing his throat he greets you, “Lieutenants.”

“Sir”, you let out in unison. He walks past the two of you as Cyclone’s assistant lets you know you can both enter. Straightening your khaki pants, Rooster allows you to walk in first and the two of you stand to attention in front of his desk. He sits in his seat, staring out the window, and turns to look at the two of you fully, doing a slight double take as his gaze washes over Rooster.

“I am going to tell the two of you what I told Captain Mitchell'', he starts, voice as deep and ruling as always, “The U.S. government does not sign my paychecks to be a god damn babysitter. If you cannot get along as a team, then you will not fly as one. I will send one or the other to another squadron faster than you can say ‘Yes Sir’. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir”, the two of you respond.

“Being on this squadron is a privilege, not a right. The two of you are on thin ice. If either of you have a problem, you better let me know now so I can find the next pilot who will gladly fill your spot in a second flat.” His gaze darts between the two of you as your palms grow sweaty. “Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He eyes Rooster’s face once more, and then back to you very briefly.

“Rooster, if there is anything you would like to let me know about I suggest you say it now.” Swallowing, you can see Rooster out of the corner of your eye do the same.

“No, sir. There is not.”

“You won’t mind me asking where you got the shiner from then?” He asks as he eyes you, you’re more thankful than ever your hands are behind your back at the moment.

“Tripped and hit my face on some stairs, sir.” Your breathing slows slightly as Rooster covers for you. It makes you feel the slightest bit guilty for hitting him in the first place.

“Rooster, you are dismissed.” Your heart tightens in your chest as Rooster exits, leaving just you and the fire breathing dragon. He turns his attention to a pile of papers on his desk as he fans them out.

“I have to tell you, I was initially surprised I hadn’t had to call you in here earlier, given your father’s reputation. But, taking another look at your records, I’m surprised you’re in here at all.” You remain still as stone, staring at the wall just above his head. “Top of your class at the Academy, as well as Top Gun, and yet, you’re still in my office.” Raising a brow, he brings his full attention back to you. “Why is that, Lieutenant Mitchell?” You scoff internally at him questioning you instead of Rooster.

“Things got out of hand, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sighing, he stands and faces his window, gazing upon his domain.

“I wasn’t hesitant when Admiral Kazansky suggested you be added to this detachment. Your records speak for themselves. The insistence on having Captain Mitchell in charge however, made me more skeptical. How would that look?” He turns to you once more. “Having a parent and child in the same squadron? Rooster might know your dad, but on paper you have more to gain. And your flying ability doesn’t mean anything when politics are involved. It doesn’t matter what was said.” Setting both hands on his desk, he leans forward, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your facade, “I am going to give you some advice, and it is in your best interest to listen and listen good. What happened last week cannot happen again. Tread lightly, keep your head down, and do what you came here to do. Your job.” Punctuating the last two words with his finger pounding on the desk, he finally takes his seat. “You are dismissed.” 

You hold your breath all the way to the hallway. Once out of sight from anyone, you take in a deep breath and let it out through your nose, collecting yourself before making your way to the women’s locker room. You know he’s right. You let yourself get comfortable, and once you get comfortable things start to crumble. It’s like everything you touch gets ruined and breaks right under your fingertips. This was no exception. You had to be better, do better. Emotions are where you lose control, say things you shouldn’t say, and you get justly punished for them.

You are still before the locker room door, taking in a breath before letting yourself in. Halo is lacing up her boots while Phoenix slips her flight suit on when you get to your locker. They both greet you with a small smile as you start to change uniforms.

“How was your meeting with the air boss?” Phoenix asks, already knowing all about it apparently. “Did he totally lay into Rooster?”

“If he laid into him more than you did, I’d be surprised he’s still standing”, Halo comments.

“Wait, what did you say to him?”, you ask Phoenix as she rolls her eyes.

“Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, ‘why are you being such a dicktroll’, and ‘I can’t even look at you right now’”, Halo lists off for her.

“Dicktroll?”, you laugh, “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah well, when I’m mad the words just start coming out of my mouth.” 

“He’s still your friend”, you mutter. “And I said some regrettable things, too.”

“Mantis. You’re my friend. I don’t even know if I would call him that after this. And yeah, I know you separately and out of whatever mess you’re in now, but I know when someone is being an asshole. And Rooster was being a major asshole. What you said didn’t warrant what he told everyone” She catches your shoulder as you finish zipping up your flight suit, “I’m gonna have your back no matter what, ok? And I guarantee everyone else in that room will, too.” You turn to Halo as she nods in agreement.

“I appreciate it, truly”, you thank them as you begin to tie up your own boots.

“What did Cyclone say to you, though?” Halo asks.

“Um”, you cough, “Basically I’m just happy to even still be here.”

“What does that mean?” Phoenix asks as her brows furrow.

“Doesn’t matter”, you reply, patting her back as the three of you leave the locker room.

Maverick is already at the front of the room, talking with Hondo as you walk in behind Halo and Phoenix. Bob smiles at the two of them, and you think for a second you see it get slightly wider as he spots you behind them. It almost makes you forget that everyone is trying and failing to hide the fact that they’re thinking about what Rooster said.

That fact alone has you crawling in your skin just a little bit. Bob turns to you as you open your notebook to where you were taking notes on Friday. You try your best to ignore the flits of eyes that turn your way, but you can still feel them on you.

“Hey”, he smiles.

“Hey”, you smile right back.

“How’s your hand feelin?”, he whispers.

“Oh that”, looking down at it, you stretch your fingers out and wiggle them, “Definitely feeling a lot better.” Phoenix turns at your own words, eyes widening as she looks at the discoloration on your knuckles.

“Jesus, what happened?” You’re about to tell her the same lie you told Penny, but before you’re able to open your mouth, Hangman whistles from his seat on the other side of the aisle. Everyone’s eyes follow Rooster as he makes the uncomfortable trek to the back of the room. Phoenix’s eyes quickly move from the bruise on his face back to your hand as you tuck it under your opposite one. A slow smile creeps on her face as she realizes how you stood up for yourself. “Nice shot”, she whispers to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you whisper back as you pretend to look through your notes.

“Rooster”, Maverick’s voice speaks from the front, “Take a seat up here please”, he asks as he motions to the vacant seat next to you. Your brows furrow as do Rooster’s.

“Mav-”

“Now”, he responds rather sternly. Rooster follows his orders and he sits next to you as you stiffen. The rest of the room is silent as they wait for Mav to start the day.

“It has been brought to my attention that there has been some hostility amongst this team.” If it wasn’t at all obvious he was talking about you and Rooster, the ways his eyes wander to the two of you confirm the fact to everyone. “If you can’t act as a team, it is incredibly hard to fly as a team, and when you don’t fly as a team, people get hurt.” He eyes the room as everyone looks on in anticipation. “That being said, we’re going to start today with a little… exercise.” He says the last word with a hint of a smirk on his face.

“I will ask each of you a question. If you get it wrong you will have to do 10 pushups. If you get it right, however, you can choose anyone in our squad to do those 10 pushups for you.” People start to groan around the room at the prospect of not answering a question correctly.

“Rooster”, your dad starts, “When did the U.S. land on the moon?”

“Um, July 1969”, he responds, no doubt he has the right answer.

“Wrong, the correct answer is July sixteenth, 1969. Drop and give me 10.” Rooster blinks in surprise, but does as he says. Everyone shifts in their seats, realizing how nitpicky he’s being about these answers.

“Phoenix, what year was Top Gun founded?”

“It was 1969, and I believe it was in-”

“Correct”, your dad interrupts her. “Who would you like to give your push ups to?” She smiles slightly and turns to where Rooster has just sat back down after finishing his pushups.

“Rooster”

“You heard her, give me another 10, Rooster.” He does as he’s told, once more dropping to the floor.

“Payback, when was the Declaration of Independence signed?” Payback laughs slightly at the question, before noticing the very serious look on Maverick’s face.

“July 4, 1776, sir.”

“Very good, who gets your pushups?”

“Rooster”, he responds immediately. Payback looks over, sending you a small nod and smile, and you give it right back. Rooster stays down this time, as Hondo, who is all too happy to be doing this, counts his pushups from the back of the room. You watch across the room as everyone’s eyes light up. Maverick continues to go around asking possibly the easiest U.S. History questions, and everytime a member of the squad gets their answer inevitably right, they assign their punishment to Rooster. Your heart warms that every time someone gives their correct answer, they spare you a glance or a nod, subtly acknowledging they’re doing it for you.

Rooster’s starting to sweat and slow down as Maverick finally gets to you. His eyes grow a touch softer as they look at you. He clears his throat, asking his final question, “Mantis, who was the first American woman in space?” A small smile creeps on your face at what seems to everyone else to be a surface-level question.

“Sally Ride”, you answer. The memory of being 8 with dreams of being an astronaut fill your head. One summer at the Bradshaw’s, a documentary about Sally Ride was airing on t.v. and thinking it would be good for you to see a female role model, Carole left it on for you to watch. Turns out, you got a little too obsessed, to the point Carole hand-made a NASA jumpsuit for you to wear on Halloween months later. Bradley even helped you memorize the planets in the solar system that summer, telling you that’s the first thing you needed to know if you were going to be an astronaut. He was 14 at the time, and could have been doing a number of other things than hanging out with an eight year old, but he stayed with you the entire summer. It was one where your dad was deployed the last month, but he stuck by to make sure you never got lonely. You still knew the planet song he made up to help you memorize them like the back of your hand.

“Who gets your pushups?”, he asks, even as a formality now. As you stare at Rooster, who is behind on his last two sets, you’re reminded of that 14-year-old, who stayed with you when you were alone, and taught you how to go after what you wanted. The memory causes a lapse in your anger, and just this once you decide to go easy on him.

“Can I give them to you, sir?” His eyes go a bit wide as he blinks away his surprise. “You are technically a part of this team, are you not?”

“I guess, yeah- I am. Alright Hondo”, he says as he situates himself on the ground, “Count me out.”

Rooster and Maverick finish their pushups almost simultaneously, which leaves the rest of the time in the classroom to go over more flight maneuvers for the following week.

Bob saves you a seat at lunch like he’s been doing it forever, and you are more than happy to sit next to him.

“Do you realize that yesterday was the first day in like 3 weeks we haven’t seen each other in person?” You ask, taking a chip off of his plate.

“Wow”, he remarks, watching you so casually sharing each other's food. “I mean I did notice… It was awfully quiet at my house.” He gives you a small smile as you lightly shove his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“What were you doing yesterday?”

“Quite literally nothing”, you reply, taking in a deep breath. Bob continues eating as you mull over your next words. “Rooster was at dinner on Saturday.”

“Are you serious?” He asks, almost choking on a chip.

“Yeah”, you nod, “He told me he was sorry, again.”

“How did that go?”, he treads lightly. You sigh, glancing across the mess-hall to see Rooster eating at a table by himself. For once he’s the one who looks lonely, and you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. But then again, he did this to himself.

“I don’t know, I think he was angry at me for the wrong reasons, which made him feel worse about what he said.”

“He should feel bad about it. It doesn’t matter if they were the wrong reasons, he shouldn’t have said it at all.”, Bob mutters, causing you to look back at him. He blinks a couple times under your gaze as you don’t look away. “What?”

“Thanks for having my back”

“Of course, I’ll always have your back”, his smile gets a little more full, a little more crooked the longer you two look at each other. And you can feel the same happening to your own smile before you look over Bob’s shoulder to see Phoenix heading your way. Dropping her lunch bag on the table has you scooting the slightest bit away from Bob, just to create a little more distance between the two of you.

“Soo”, she draws out, “I know it’s been a wild few days, but are you two still coming to my house this weekend?” Shit, you forgot all about the party she invited you to. “I’m officially uninviting Rooster if that sways you in anyway.” Chuckling slightly, you look over her shoulder and watch Rooster as he picks at his own food.

“It’s fine, Phoenix. Like Mav said, if we can’t work as a team it’s hard to fly as one.” You decide.

“This is a party, Mantis. One in which I would not like to invite losers and assholes into my home, and he fits into both of those categories.”

“So does Hangman”, you reply as she rolls her eyes. “He did apologize to me, and I believe him.”

“Did you forgive him, though?”, Bob chimes in.

“That’s beside the point. Whatever is going on with me and Rooster doesn’t involve the rest of you, and I never should have brought it into work.” Phoenix looks on in contemplation as Bob gives you an earnest look in understanding. “Plus, we have direct orders to be on our best behavior.”

“I’ll think about it”, she trails off. There’s a lull in the conversation as you continue to eat until Phoenix turns to Bob. “Rachel’s friend Emily is gonna be there, too.” You stop eating, trying to glance at Bob’s reaction through the corner of your eye.

“Phoenix-”, he groans, “I’ve already told you I don’t want to be set up on any dates.”

“And why not?”, she probes. “I just wanna see you happy, you’re like my little brother now.”

“I just…”, his eyes move quickly from Phoenix to glance at you once before she moves on.

“It’s not even a date”, she reasons, “Just come to the party and meet her. That’s all I’m asking.” The conversation ends with that as you ponder Phoenix’s words. You don’t view Bob as a brother at all, but you want to see him happy. You’re happy whenever you’re with him, and you hope he’s happy, too. But you know it’s not sufficient. Bob deserves love, something you can’t give him, and something you don’t even know he wants from you. Even if it was a possibility.

The next day, your father takes a strange but familiar route to get the team back in its groove. He lets you know that day before you leave to meet at the Hard Deck instead of on base, and an immediate buzz fills the air. Everyone already knows what’s going down.

“Your dad’s not one for talking is he?” Fanboy asks as you trudge your way through the sand.

“No, no he is not”, you respond while placing your sunglasses over your eyes. Your dad had explicitly stated to you the day before that he got permission this time for an entire beach day. This explanation had come no further than two seconds after you had asked if Cyclone was going to make a surprise appearance this time.

The San Diego sun is as harsh as ever as the sweltering heat threatens to melt the sun screen right off your skin. Following Payback and Fanboy from the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you meet your father and the rest of the squad closer to the water. Everyone else is already shirtless and ready to start, except for Bob of course. Much to your battling emotions of relief and disappointment. You catch his eye, and make your way over to him as he talks to Omaha and Phoenix.

“Are you ready for some team bonding?” Phoenix asks you sarcastically as you roll your eyes.

“So ready. What better way to get over a fight than throwing balls and tackling each other?” You add with a cheery fakeness that has Bob chuckling. Hondo whistles, taking your attention away from the tall WSO as the day commences.

“Alright, listen up!”, your dad starts, “Today’s training is dogfight football. I’m choosing the teams this time.” Rolling your eyes at the notion, you turn to Bob.

“How much you wanna bet he puts me on a team with Rooster and Hangman?”, you whisper through the side of your mouth. Glancing down at you through his tinted prescription lenses, he chuckles slightly.

“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d bet it all on that”, you smile and shake your head, catching sight of Rooster off to the side of everyone. He’s already looking in your direction, causing you to furrow your brows and look back to your dad.

“Starting with team number one, we have Mantis, Rooster, Hangman, Fanboy, Omaha, and Yale.” He announces as you scoff only loud enough for Bob to hear.

The teams move to gather in huddles before the game starts, and as Hangman and Omaha argue over who gets to be the quarterback, you watch as Fanboy and Yale attempt to come up with a solution. You don’t even notice Rooster at first as he stands next to you. He clears his throat, startling you slightly as you look in his direction, then back to the boys fighting.

“I wanted to say thank you for not giving me your push ups yesterday.” You know an olive branch when you see one, having offered him multiple over many years. Still, you don’t look away from the display of toxic masculinity in front of you before answering.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Seriously, I appreciate it.” You don’t respond to him this time, prompting him to fill the silence between the two of you. “Mantis, I really am sorry-”

“What are you doing, Rooster?”, you ask now, turning to face him. He’s taken aback by your abruptness as he stammers for a response.

“I just thought maybe since-”

“Since Cyclone told us to play nice?” You finish for him. “Don’t get it twisted, Rooster. My actions from yesterday are purely so that I can remain on this team. I worked my ass off to get here, and I am not going to let you of all people jeopardize that.” Walking away from him, you tear the football out of Hangman’s hands while he’s distracted. “Do we have a game plan or what?”

Bob is desperately trying to pay attention to Maverick reiterating the rules of dogfight football, but his eyes keep wandering back to you as you stand next to Hangman. You’re wearing a loose tank top and he can see your sports bra through the sides, leaving the tiniest sliver of skin available for his eyes to roam over. You’re trying your best to act interested even though you know this game front and back. He catches your eyes wandering over the squad, and through his sunglasses he sees you widen your eyes in fake agony. He smiles as you continue to roll your eyes, and as he shakes his head in an attempt to hide his laugh, he glances over and finds Rooster staring at him. Squaring his shoulders as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Bob turns his attention back to Mav.

The game gets ready to start, you and Bob being chosen to snap the footballs. “Get ready to go down, Floyd”, you joke as you bend forward, setting the football on the sand. He mirrors your actions, and as he bends forward, he forgets any response he was about to say. From where he’s bent over, he can see right down your tank top and sports bra, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. Swallowing, and looking back to your eyes, you don’t seem to notice his miniscule distraction. He barely even hears the whistle before you’re snapping the ball to Hangman and attempting to block the rest of his team. His hands feel a little more clammy than before the game started.

In order to keep your team happy, the decision is made to keep switching positions. You think it’s a good idea at the time, but as you run slightly backwards in order to try to catch the ball, you don’t even see what you’re hitting until the wind is knocked out of you. In an attempt to catch the ball Omaha’s thrown, your arms are stretched out, but you ultimately end up with your arms full of Bob as the two of you hit the sand hard.

Hondo blows his whistle, signaling everyone to stop as Bob groans from beneath you. The vibration of his chest against yours distracts you from the ache in your temple as you sit up to stare down at his face, eyes squinting in pain.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You ask, assessing for any injuries.

“I’m fine, are you ok?”, he manages to slip out. His face looks fine, but as you quickly sit off to the side of him to assess the rest of his body, his hand moves to his face. “Oh geez”, he mutters. Glancing back up to his eyes as he sits up, a gush of blood pours out of the hand now clutching his nose. The rest of the team has gathered around you, and a couple people wince through their teeth at the amount of liquid pooling in his hand.

“Oh shit”, you let out without really meaning to. “Does anyone have a towel?” The team scrambles at the urgency in your voice, and without having to say anything else, a towel is plopped into your lap. You immediately move to replace Bob’s hand with the beach towel, holding it right beneath his nostrils which are simultaneously releasing blood.

Mav moves to bend down next to the two of you, “Here, let me see.” You take the towel away just for a second to let your dad inspect Bob’s nose as he looks up. There’s blood dripping over his lips and chin, prompting you to place the towel back.

“Is Penny working tonight?”, you ask, glancing back from the Hard Deck just beyond the sand.

“Yeah she should be in.”

“Good, I’m gonna take Bob up there and try to get this to stop bleeding.”

“Yeah, we should probably call it a day”, Mav replies as he places a hand under Bob’s elbow to help him up.

“No, I’m fine really”, Bob’s muffled and now nasally voice replies. “You guys keep playin’, I’ll go and take care of this.”

“You are not doing that by yourself”, you reply, almost amused at the fact he thinks he can get rid of you that easily. There’s no room for argument in your voice as you throw one of his arms over your shoulder to guide him up the sand to the bar. Phoenix steps in front of you before you leave.

“You got him?” She asks, her features twisted in a grimace as she examines his face.

“I’ve got him”, you reassure her as she watches you pass. Your arm is around his waist while his lies across your shoulders, and you’re trying ridiculously hard to focus on the task at hand instead of his warm body encasing yours. Bob on the other hand wants to tell you he can walk perfectly fine, but he doesn’t want to risk you letting him go. His nose is starting to throb, but all he can feel is your bare shoulders against his skin as your smaller hand grips his waist.

Once arriving at the bar, you walk through the glass door until Penny sees the two of you and rushes over.

“What happened?”, she asks as she watches you help Bob into the air conditioned building.

“There was a small crash”, you explain. “Do you have any towels or ice?” It’s still fairly early in the evening, the sun not setting quite yet, but the first patrons who have sat down in the bar look at the two of you with wide eyes.

“Of course”, she blinks as she moves behind the bar. “There’s a couch in my office, you can take him back there and I’ll get you something else to clean him up with.” You do as she says and open the door to her office, gently letting Bob sit down on the small loveseat, taking the seat next to him. He’s still holding the towel to his nose as he tries to lean back.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to tilt your head back”, you tell him. Gingerly placing your hand on the back of his head, you tilt him so he’s leaning forward slightly. With your other you’re lightly pinching his nose to help stop the bleeding while he holds the towel. Bob can’t help but think how you seem to already know every trick and quirk to stop the bleeding. How you must have had to clean up your own nose bleeds. 

Your brows have been in a constant furrow since the collision, and he takes in the way your teeth chew on your lip.

“Hey”, he tries to muffle through the towel. Your gaze shifts from his nose up to his eyes. “I’m ok, really.” You give him a doubtful look as you pinch his nose. Your elbow rests on his shoulder, hand still cradling the back of his head.

“How’s your head?” You ask in earnest.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, he responds as soon as you’re done asking. His comment causes you to crack a smile, clearing the furrow out of your brows as you laugh.

“You did not just say that to me”, you laugh. Bob laughs along with you as he tries to breathe through his mouth. Using his shoulder as support, you lean forward and laugh closer to him.

“Ok I’ve got-”, Penny walks in on the two of you, causing her to pause in the doorway, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah everything’s fine”, you wave off her concern

“Good… I’ve got some wet rags and a bag of ice.”

“Thank you”, you reply, still trying to stifle your laugh with Bob. Confusion is written all over her face as you turn back to her.

“Right, well… I’ll just be at the bar if you need anything else.” Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing, and Bob smiles at the notion. Your eyes meet his again through the same tinted lenses, warping the color of his irises. The dust settles from your laughing fit and it’s just the two of you in Penny’s cramped office, perched on the edge of the ratty old sofa she must have got in a garage sale. You’re still cradling the back of his head as your fingers absentmindedly play with the short hair. He sucks in a breath, stopping your movements.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, that’s not- No I’m fine”, you manage to hear him through the towel. Looking at the bright yellow tropical flowers of the cotton now stained in crimson, you slowly remove your fingers from his nose.

“Does it feel like it’s still bleeding?” Bob attempts to sniff through his nose as he takes the towel away from his face.

“No, I think we’re ok.” You wince at the sight of slightly-dried blood that is now smeared from his nostrils down his chin and neck. It’s soaked into the yellow of his t-shirt, leaving a stain you don’t think he’ll be able to get out easily. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not too bad”, you attempt to lie to him. Obviously not doing that great of  a job as he squints his eyes at you. Looking to get away from his playful glare, you eye a box of tissues just behind him. Reaching around him, you grab a few tissues and start to twist them.

“What are you doing?”

“We gotta plug you up.”

“Excuse- plug me up?” He laughs.

“Before we get all the blood off, we just gotta make sure it’s not gonna start bleeding again.” You hand him the first piece of tissue as he delicately places it in one nostril. “Otherwise you’re just gonna have to clean yourself up again.” He glances back up at you, this time with an unreadable gaze. Like he’s trying to study you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You eye him suspiciously as you hand him the other tissue. His eyes move to your fingers stained with his blood, and he looks away again in contemplation as you grab the wet rag.

“Seriously, what is it?” He shrugs.

“Nothing.” Huffing out a breath of frustration, you reach into the pocket of your gym shorts, taking a penny out and placing it in the palm of his hand. He smiles slightly at the notion of you just having this in your pocket, moving the penny to his crimson fingertips. The hint of a smile on his face is quickly replaced with a lopsided frown. “I- I’m sorry you know how to do all of this.” Your shoulders slump as he avoids your gaze. “And I’m sorry you have to do it again.”

“Bob- it’s ok.” You tell him softly, he glances back up, eyebrows twisted.

“It’s not though.. You shouldn’t be an expert at this.” Chewing your lip once more, you stare deeply into his eyes as they gaze back in worry.

“Bobby, I’m ok. I’m ok now and that’s what matters.” Bob is trying his best to believe you, but the image of you crying on the floor of the women’s locker room comes to mind. Then the feeling of your tears soaking his flight suit. You squeeze his hand around the penny once, gaining his attention once more.

“Ok”, he responds just above a whisper. You grant him a small smile in the silence that lingers, reaching back for the wet rag to clean him up with. It’s dried more since you’ve sat down, but you’re still just as gentle with your swipes across his chin. Glancing at his face, you notice there’s a couple specks of blood on the apples of his cheeks, almost underneath his frames.

“May I?” you ask, motioning to his glasses.

“Sure”, he breathes out. Your hands slowly rise and slide the glasses off his face, folding them and placing them gently on the table next to you. The breath is just about knocked out of your lungs as his wide, sky blue eyes blink at you for the first time without a barrier. You’re stuck for a moment in time, just admiring the color and how intently they look at you. You’re broken out of your trance as a drop of water from the rag slides down your hand, dripping on your lap.

Continuing where you left off, you dab at what was previously covered by his glasses, moving down beneath his nose and around his chin and mouth. The rag you were using is now stained a light red and you switch it out with the spare one Penny brought. The bar has gotten a little louder now as the day turns to evening, but it’s still muffled through the door and hallway. It’s quiet enough you can still hear Bob breathing so close to you. Your other hand gently nudges his chin upward so as to gain access to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Once you’ve ensured his neck is clean, you look back on his face, hoping to get the spots you missed.

“You can look down now”, you whisper. You don’t know why you started talking so quietly, maybe to preserve a moment of silence you don’t get to enjoy so much, but as he looks back at you, you understand it’s just to preserve Bob. If you don’t disrupt the bubble you’ve put yourself in, it won’t burst. And you can stay in this moment with him for as long as you decide to. He doesn’t tell you he can clean himself up, even though both of you are thinking it. And you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. Right now it’s just the two of you, in this stolen moment in time where nothing else exists beyond the four walls of the dingy office.

Your hand moves instinctively to cradle his jaw, just to get a better hold on him while you wipe around his lips. With the rag wrapped around your finger, you swipe underneath the plush of his bottom lip, then over the top. Your eyes move slightly up, to check for any more blood, but catch sight of the tissues sticking out of his nose. It catches Bob off guard as you start to chuckle.

“What?” He asks this time. You lean back slightly, both hands now in your lap, to get a full view of his face and start to laugh a little harder. “What is it?” He presses, starting to laugh as well.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who said I had to ‘plug myself up’”, he mocks, not meaning to laugh at the end of his sentence.

“At least it’s not a tampon up your nose”, you mutter. His brows raise at your comment.

“A what?”, he stammers.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Bradley’s mom shoved a tampon up his nose to get it to stop bleeding?” He chuckles in surprise, but also at the thought of a now adult Bradley with a tampon dangling out of his nose. “That was actually the first time I saw a bloody nose, I thought he was dying”, you smile at the memory.

“What happened?”, Bob asks. Setting the now bloodied rag next to the old one, you grab the bag of ice.

“Back in his old neighborhood he had some really annoying neighbor kids. Brad took me to the park, and these three eleven year olds would not let me swing on the damn swings. Then they started saying some really mean things, and that’s when Bradley stepped in. He told them to apologize to me and share the swings and they refused. He-”, laughing at the image you continue, “he shoved one of them off the swings, picked me up, and started to help me swing.” Shaking your head at the memory, you reach up and gently rest the ice pack against Bob’s nose as he watches your face the entire time. 

“Not five minutes later, all three kids are back, this time with their older brother. Keep in mind, Bradley was only twelve, and their brother was just about to start high school and absolutely huge. Brad tried to calmly explain what happened, but before he could get a word in, this guy decks him. I ran to the house to grab Carole, screaming that this kid was going to kill him. We raced back to the park, and once this guy saw a raging Carole Bradshaw running full speed towards him he sprinted the other way”, you smile.

“Bradley’s nose was bleeding and I just started bawling, thinking that this is it. He’s dying.” Bob laughs with you as you readjust the ice on his face. “We walked him back to the house, and the first thing she did was shove a tampon up his nose, while explaining to me that he was going to be fine.” Your laughing subsides as well as your own smile as you reminisce.

“Carole Bradshaw sounds like a woman that should not be messed with.” Bob comments, bringing your gaze back upon him.

“Yeah”, you sigh. “She was a fierce protector. They both were.” Bob’s hand searches for your own, squeezing softly.

“Mantis-”, whatever Bob is about to say is cut short as someone clears their throat from the door. The two of you look up to find Rooster, only this time Bob’s hand doesn’t stray from your own. It holds your fingers more firmly at the sight of him.

“Sorry”, Rooster interrupts. “Mav wanted me to check in, see how Bob’s doing.” He glances between your connected hands, then back at where you’re icing his nose. You clear your own throat this time as your hand retreats from its place in Bob’s.

“Yeah, he’s good. Blood’s stopped.”

“That’s good”, Rooster offers, trying to and failing to make this small interaction less awkward.

“Was that all?”

“Actually, um, Mav wanted to talk to you. Privately.” He adds on after glancing back at Bob.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He taps on the door before leaving the two of you alone again. You turn back to Bob, not looking him in the eyes as you place the ice pack in his hand.

“I guess duty calls.” You start to gather up the rags, but before you’re able to stand, Bob’s large fingers caress the back of your wrist to get your attention. He’s very mindful to not grab a hold of your arm as the hairs on the back of his hand tickle you.

“Hey, thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, you manage to breathe out. “I’m sorry I ran into you.”

“I’m not.”

After running to the bathroom to wash your hands off, there is still a wide smile on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You check for any more blood, but decide it’s all gone as you attempt to squash your smile. The rest of the squad is sitting in the bar, each of them with more clothing on then they had earlier. Your eyes roam the room for your father, but come up empty. Rooster is standing  on the back deck outside, and you begrudgingly walk towards him. The door swings open and shut, muffling the noise from within.

“Where’s Mav?”, you ask, getting straight to the point. Rooster looks over his shoulder at you, setting his drink on a nearby table.

“He took Penny for a bike ride.”

“I thought you said he wanted to talk to me”, you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“About that���, he scratches the back of his neck, “I meant to say that I needed to talk to you.” Rolling your eyes and giving him a scoff, you turn around, hand stretched toward the doorknob. “Mantis- please. Just give me five minutes.” And for some inexplicable reason. You don’t reach any further. You turn around, fold your arms, and give him the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief as you walk closer to the edge of the deck and watch the golden sunset.

“I want you to know that I’m apologizing because I really am sorry. It’s not just to keep the peace for Cyclone. I failed you.. And I failed my mom.” You turn towards him, and just for a second you don’t see the stone cold eyes that were set upon you just days ago, you see the sandy hair and soft hazel eyes of a brother who would do anything for you.

“It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” He reiterates. Absent-mindedly you start chewing on your lip, and avoiding his eyesight. A part of you wants so deeply to forgive him and go back to how it used to be, but the other part is still hurt by what he did.

“Which is why I need you to listen to me. You can’t go down the path you’re already falling towards.” Your head slowly looks up as confusion clouds your features.

“What does that mean?”

“I know Cyclone chewed you out more after I left. We’re both on pretty thin ice here, and you worked so hard to get to where you are. I don’t want to see you throw it all away for someone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your heart rate is steadily climbing, wondering if Rooster is about to go where you think he’s going to.

“I’ve noticed things. I’ve told you to be careful before, and now more than ever I wish you would please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Swallowing, you turn back toward the coastline so he can’t read into what you’re trying to conceal in your face. “I see the way you look at him. The same way you’ve looked at boys you’ve had crushes on since you were little.”

“I am not some little girl, Rooster.” You seethe toward him, your face flushed in anger, embarrassment even at his accusations. “I grew up a long time ago, so whatever version you still have of me in your head, get rid of her. Cause she doesn’t exist anymore.” Shaking your head, you stalk toward the back door, catching a glimpse of Bob with his sunglasses on once again, the tissues since discarded, playing a game of pool with Phoenix and Fanboy. “And I don’t have a crush on him. Bob and I are just friends.”

“I never said his name.” Your blood runs cold at his words. You don’t dare turn back and give him the satisfaction of being right. “So you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but I already know the truth. All I’m trying to say is be careful, and remember why you’re here.”

You let Rooster’s words wash over you as you reach for the doorknob and let yourself back inside. How stupid could you be? Sure, you’ve perhaps come to terms that you maybe have more than friendship feelings for Bob, but you were never going to act on them. But now apparently Rooster can still see right through you. The mix of his and Cyclone’s warnings run through your mind as you get closer to the pool table and stand next to Phoenix.

You can tell she’s already a couple drinks in as her volume is a little louder than normal.

“Tell him, Mantis!”

“Tell him what?” She motions over to Bob as he watches Fanboy take his shot, shaking his head at her while he does so.

“Tell him to go on a date with Rachel’s hot friend!” Your eyes catch Bob smiling and shaking his head at her antics, obviously more amused with her drunken state than her words. His crooked smile makes you want to wrap him up in a hug so it never goes away, but you’re reminded of the warnings from Rooster and Cyclone. Repeating over and over in your head the longer you look at him.

“You should”, you tell him, as much as it pains you to say. He glances up at you, smile falling as his brows furrow the slightest bit. “Give her a chance at least.”

“Oh, ya think?” He asks, the slightest tone of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. It can’t hurt, can it?” And even though it is tearing you apart to say it, you do it anyway.

“I guess not.” You give him a slight smile, although it turns into more of a grimace the longer you hold it. He does the same to you, turning back to stare at the pool table with a hardened gaze, eyes not actually following where Fanboy’s ball runs to. Phoenix cheers out in glee at Bob’s acceptance, and you slip out the front door, saying your quick goodbyes. You pass Rooster at the bar, not giving him a second look as you make it to your car. Your heart aches at the thought of telling Bob to find happiness somewhere else, knowing damn well if the circumstances were different you would be first in line to offer it. Your brain reminds you however, you're making the right decision. It's the only decision. Right?

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #why me?

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . I wondered why, why am I not like them? Why am I a foreigner? Why have I always been outside, pushed out, never one of them? What is it? Why am I always peering in through the window?

Siri Hustvedt, from The Blazing World

#on the outside looking in #rejection #outsider #i don't belong here #pariah #outcast #depressing #the worst feeling #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #why me? #siri hustvedt #the blazing world

[gliocchifannoquelchedevono]

Cammino in luoghi conosciuti

eppure mi sono perso.

I miei pensieri sono un fiume in piena,

sento la tua presenza, viva, pulsante.

Dov'eri prima di essere la mia musa,

la mia parte mancante,

il soggetto del mio desiderio,

la mano tesa che fa battere il cuore,

la mia necessità?

"Le anime simili si trovano e si completano", penso

e sorrido.

#pensieri #eppure sentire #come l'alba e il tramonto #completarsi #why me?

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

Chasing Stars, by time_woods, was updated today, with 4/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Adventure Time AU, chasing stars au, this is like enemies to lovers but one sided enemies and lovers but they dont have a lable for it, neither of them like each other in the begining btw, Sīdus is joke flirter but then it becomes/ gen, this is prismos and scarabs therapy, they colab on the main fic, i put other cause neither of these mfs are cis, they both genderqueer in some way, some of that cosmic gore again, carma has knee problems and its totally not cause im projecting"

You can read it here:

YAAAAAAAAAAAY MORE GENDERQUEER YAOI !!! OWL IS HERE !!!!! Big birde >:] I love Carmine going 👀at Cosmos because he is just a liddle bug man </3/silly. AND NOW THEY HAVE THEIR MASKS AND THE MASKS LOOK LIKE THEM RAAAAAAGH/pos

A new work, Why Me? by phoenixash234flames, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Slight Panic Attack, spoilers for distant lands together again, i feel like I made Scarab too ooc in this but idk, the lich being a constant for Prismo"

You can read it here:

NOOOOOOOO PRISMO MY BOY :,[ he's never done a thing wrong in his life he doesn't deserve his friends dying :[ I love tsundere scarab so much *clenches fist* yes he will comfort his boyfriend yes he will be in love no he will not admit either <3

NSFW works are below the cut :].

Interlinked, by Finn565, was updated today, with 13/14 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Major Character Death, with additional tags "Human AU, Blade Runner AU, I played pretty lose with the lore so forgive me for that, Violence, not too gorey tho, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Orbo is a piece of shit, sorry I just made him that way in this fic, Prismo is just a lovely guy, Prismo is going to teach Scarab to love fr, Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, Porn With Plot, smut in later chapters, Confessions, Trans Scarab, they’re in love your honor, Suicidal Thoughts, someone dies but I have a plan I promis, Just stuck with me, The suicidal thoughts are just for a moment and they do not kill themselves, Okay I promise there is a happy ending for this, Minor Character Death"

You can read it here:

FINALLY AAAAAAAAA/pos !! I'M GONNA START CRYING FROM RELIEF ANHG.... HE'S BACK,,,,,,, AND ORBO IS DEAD YIPPIE !!! WAHOO !!! I can die happy now/j peace and love,,, on planet earth,,,,,,,,, I am so relieved for real/gen

A new work, when wings emerge from crucible chrysalis by lacrimalis, was publushed today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Established Relationship, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Heart-to-Heart, Edging, Crying, Mindbreak, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Fluffy Ending, Bottom Scarab (Adventure Time)"

You can read it here:

PICKLE TIME LET'S GO ! Prismo is so mean to Simon and for what </3 they are so in love and like each other it's going to make me punch a wall/silly Fellas, if you don't pet your boyfriend while making out are you really in love ?/j

#my eyeballs stopped working like haflway through this #theyre better now but i have no idea why that happened #prohibitedwish #prohibitedwish fics #chasing stars #interlinked #when wings emerge from the crucible chrysalis #why me?

[notafamouswriteryet]

I have five downloaded books and three books from the library which are due on the 6th. And right now I am here on Tumblr reading a bunch of fanfiction and I am very aware that I should be reading my books but- am I gonna get off Tumblr and switch my phone off?

No.

#fanfiction #starker #blairon #drarry #pansmione #theville #ronarry #why me? #blairon post war fic #tumblr is killing me #winterspider #iron man #spiderman #marvels #too much fanfics

[dearestgojo]

Imma go jump off a cliff now.

#why me? #wwwhhyy! #for context my elementary school bully liked my dating profile...