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callsign-bobsgirl · 3 months ago

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Sunflower : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Mitchell!Reader

Summary: Bob Floyd was head over heels for you from the moment you met. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him. But Hangman knew just how to get under people's skin, too well sometimes, and sometimes frustration hits a boiling point when the people you don't want to hurt are standing in the way.

Warnings: fluff, some angst, established relationship, language, Hangman acting like an ass, female reader

Word Count: 3,771 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell always had one rule for his daughter: no dating any Military men, or ladies, until he was dead. You’d always found the rule dumb, but your dad was firm on it. He knew what those men were like, he used to be one of them himself, part of the reason he ended up with a daughter of his own. Though he’d spend your entire life reminding you that you were the greatest gift the world had ever given him, and that’s why he was so protective with his different rules as you grew up.

You adhered to them for a long time…until Bob Floyd came along.

Maverick had just been called back to Top Gun for the first time in years, and while he was excited and terrified to come back, he was excited at the prospect of seeing you. You’d chosen to attend the University of California at San Diego, and loved the city so much you’d settled in it after graduation and never left. Living in a city, surrounded by Military men at every corner, and through the years you’d obeyed your father’s rule and steered clear of them all.

You could remember the first time you met Bob as if it had been yesterday. A text from Bradley Bradshaw, a man you’d grown up to see as practically your blood brother, telling you to meet him down at the Hard Deck. That was news to you, that he was even back in the States in the first place, but you also knew it meant he was most likely here on a mission.

“There’s my favorite girl!” Bradley had whooped out the second he’d finished his song on the piano, the rest of the bar going back to their own conversations as the jukebox was plugged back in. He’d practically jumped off the piano bench, rushing forward to bring you into a hug, lifting you up with a spin as you laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. “Would you believe me if I told you you’re my favorite part of coming back to the States?”

“Absolutely not one bit, Brad-”

“Hate to interrupt…but who’s she, Rooster?”

You pulled back from your brother, shooting a friendly smile toward what you could tell by their uniforms were other Navy fighter pilots gathered around the piano, watching you both curiously. Bradley threw an arm over your shoulders, giving it a squeeze.

“This right here is my infamous Sunflower-”

“You eat ONE of those as a child and get a stupid nickname-”

“I’ve told you guys about her before, practically my little sister,” he pointed off at the rest of his friends, listing them off. “That’s Mickey, otherwise known as Fanboy and Reuben, also known as Payback. That right there is Phoenix, but when I talk about her with you I just call her Natasha. We’ve got Jake, more well-known as Bag- sorry, I mean Hangman. And that’s Bob.”

You raised an eyebrow, gaze fixed on Bob questioningly as you realized Bradley wasn’t continuing his introductions.

“Just Bob?”

The man in question seemed to get flustered a bit, trying to speak and not seemingly able to find the words as his cheeks flushed.

“Uh, well, you know-”

“We just use Bob as his callsign too,” it was Hangman that spoke up, clapping a hand on Bob’s shoulder that seemed like it was in mock support. “Baby-On-Board seemed pretty spot-on to call him.”

Your face dropped, already understanding why your best friend seemed to bristle at the entire existence of Jake Seresin. You crossed your arms, shooting the man a pointed look.

“At least babies are cute. They also probably don’t leave their wingmen out to dry, if your own callsign is anything to go off of,”

The howling laughter of the entire group brought a smile to your face, including the look on Hangman’s face that clearly showed he’d been knocked down a peg by your words alone. You took the lapse in conversation to lock eyes with Bob again, sending him a smile and a sly wink.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Bob was head over heels for you from then on.

The team didn’t think they’d be seeing you around that often after that night, until they learned you were Maverick’s daughter. You might not have been on base with them all day, every day, but every second they weren’t on base you were with them all, ingrained with them like one of the family.

Nights at the Hard Deck, beach days learning to work together as a team in preparation for a mission, or the few days some of them managed to get off early enough to swing by and say hello to you at work. You spent all of your time with them, and those Navy fighter pilots had quickly become your best friends.

Many of them, mainly Fanboy and Hangman, had tried to get your number multiple times, to no avail. They were either stopped by Rooster’s protective gaze on you, your own father’s murderous look he’d shoot them, or a simple and polite no from you every single time. Natasha was the only one who got your number.

Bob didn’t think he stood a chance either, having overheard Rooster talking about how your father had a rule for you about dating Military men as it was, so he never tried. That’s why it surprised him so much when you’d walked up behind him at the Hard Deck one night, plucking his phone straight from his hands when no one was looking and typing in your phone number without another word.

Phoenix was the one who noticed more than others, given that Bob was her WSO. How every single time they weren’t up in the air training for the uranium mission, or being lectured back on the ground, he was buried in his phone with a smile and a blush on his cheeks. Or the way he disappeared from the base the second he was allowed to, or how you both seemed to always be around one another now wherever you all were hanging out at.

The bird strike was the first time you’d accepted that maybe you were on the verge of breaking your father’s single rule he had for you your entire life.

Maverick knew how close you’d become with the entire team, and called you the second he could to inform you of the accident. You were already in your car and on your way to the base before your father had told you he’d gotten special permission from Cyclone to let you on base.

You’d practically flew into Natasha’s arms the second you caught sight of her in the medical wing, asking her a thousand times if she was okay and checking her over. Once you’d backed out of her arms and set your sights on Bob, you could feel the overwhelming urge to cry overtake you. You’d stepped into his arms in an instant, burying your head in his neck as you began to cry, and Bob didn’t stop holding you until the tears subsided.

It was right before the Uranium mission where your relationship with Bob changed in an instant.

You were already worried sick, knowing your father was now leading the mission. You’d gotten a text directly after from Rooster informing you that you dad would be leading the mission, followed by one from your father himself to announce it. A bunch of texts streamed in, but you couldn’t bother to answer them as the nauseous feeling inside of you only grew. That pit in your stomach grew bigger as you realized that your father and Bradley’s lives weren’t the only ones you were overly concerned about, but Bob’s too.

You’d sequestered yourself for the rest of the day, ignoring texts from everyone as you realized that what you felt for Bob went entirely past platonic feelings. It was the next day when you’d opened your front door after the doorbell rang to Bob standing there in his Navy dress whites. You didn’t say a word to him, and he didn’t say a word to you either, the pair of you simply colliding in the middle in a kiss that had the rules you’d followed all your life long forgotten.

“Maverick is going to kill me for this,” he’d practically moaned out through kisses as you gripped onto the back of his neck, pulling him back in every time he pulled away for even a second.

“Good, means he’ll keep you alive during the mission to kill you after,” Bob had finally gotten you to stop chasing after his lips, pulling back to see the tears slowly streaming down your face as he gently wiped them away. “Just come back to me…all of you.”

“I promise, Sunflower,”

This wasn’t the first time your father had been on deployment. You’d had plenty of friends over the years in the military, too. This was far from the first time you’d ever dealt with people you care about throwing themselves into the line of fire and risking their lives. But this time, it held a new weight to it.

You were at the forefront of Bob’s mind the entire mission. The moment Maverick called his name alongside Phoenix’s own, his first thought was of you. Of the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on, the girl who had carved out a space in his heart in such a short amount of time, who’d he’d never thought he’d have a chance with, waiting at home for him. For him, her father, and her best friends. He thought of his own family, his parents and his siblings too, but you’d crept right up in there with them at the forefront of his mind.

It was you he thought about as he frantically called out signals for Phoenix when they’d rounded coffin corner. It was the dread he felt of having to tell you that your father and the man you considered your brother were both most likely dead the second the remaining Daggar squad had landed back on the ship. Then, it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders the second they landed back in safety with the rest of the team in that beat of F-14, knowing he could keep his promise to you.

The second the team was back in the states and touching ground on land, you’d been waiting with tears in your eyes for all of them. Maverick’s arms were the first you flew into, your father holding you as tightly as humanly possible, before he let Bradley join in on the group hug too.

“Is the cry fest over here done?” Hangman had called out, the rest of the team joining you all as they smiled at the sight of you wrapped in a bear hug of two of your favorite men. Hangman held out his arms, wiggling his fingertips. “Can’t the rest of the team get hugs here, Sunflower?”

You had pushed your way out of the hug and in Hangman’s direction, but his smirk fell when you’d simply brushed past him and threw yourself into Bob’s arms, tugging his lips back to yours, craving the feeling you’d already become addicted to. Bob could feel his cheeks instantly flush with the heat of the public display of affection, of knowing who was watching, but it was worth it for that moment with you.

Jake, Reuben, Mickey, and Bradley’s jaws all collectively dropped as they watched the interaction before them, while Natasha only held a small smirk on her lips, knowing her suspicions were confirmed. The group had all turned back to Maverick, collectively fearing for Bob’s own safety. They may have been more shocked to see a genuine smile of pure affection and love on the fighter pilot's lips.

That night, surrounded by everyone you’d come to love so dearly in the Hard Deck over well-earned beers, Maverick had quickly bestowed his blessing on the pair of you.

“If she’s going to ignore my lifelong rule and date a Military man…I’m glad it’s you, Floyd,” Maverick had clapped a hand down on his student’s shoulder, giving him a pointed look. “Break her heart, though, and the push-ups are going from 200 to 300. Daily.”

Those moments all seemed like ages ago to you, when in reality they’d only been 10 months ago. They’d led to this moment now, as you stepped into the Hard Deck on a busy Wednesday night later than usual because of work, trying to spot your group of pilots in the distance. Thankfully for you, they’d all been assigned to stay at Top Gun for an extended period of time, still learning more and more from Maverick as Cyclone had determined there was much more his top students could learn. For you, that meant having your best friends around every single day.

“Sunflower! How nice of you to join us!” Natasha had called out with a laugh, handing you one of the beers she’d grabbed for you already. You happily took it, clinking the top of your bottle with her own.

“Phoenix, you’re a lifesaver for this,” you’d thanked her, tipping your head back to gulp the alcoholic beverage. “Work was insane today, for no good reason, too!”

“Your father had us doing 200 push-ups every time we failed the flight simulations today,” Fanboy cut in, walking past quickly as he rounded the pool table in front of you both. “Trust me, most of us would kill for your office job right about now. Bet it’s got air-conditioning.”

“Hey, you guys want to handle company-wide presentations, be my guest. I don’t mind passing that off,” you watched Payback and Fanboy’s pool match for a moment, turning back to Phoenix at your side. “Is my boy hiding around here somewhere? He didn’t answer my text earlier when I said I was on my way.”

“Oh, you mean dark and stormy?” you lifted an eyebrow at her words as Natasha let out a soft laugh. “Hangman was being extra…Hangman today, if you will. Really was digging in on him all day, could hear him grumbling from the backseat of the jet after every comment.”

“Let me guess, Jake is still on his ass even now, after hours?”

“Last I saw, he had him crowded in a booth with Bradley across the room,”

You clinked your bottle with hers one more time before turning on your heel.

“Guess that my queue to go save him!”

Bob Floyd was having the worst day of his life, and it was thanks to Hangman. Don’t get it twisted, he really did love Jake, he was one of his brothers after everything that had gone down on the Uranium mission. This job can bind you wth people for life, and it has for them. Today, though, Hangman was just being so…classic Hangman.

“No, seriously, I think if you’d just given me a little more time I could have had Sunflower wrapped around my finger instead,” Jake commented with a laugh, taking another sip of his beer as he shot a smirk across the table at Bob, seeing his friend’s grip on his own beer bottle tighten. “Oh come on, Baby-On-Board, lighten up! It’s just jokes! Though we’ve got to admit, her and I would be one gorgeous couple.”

“Yeah, so funny,” Bob mumbled to himself as Bradley gripped onto Hangman’s shoulder, shoving him out of the booth and promising Bob he’d go distract him for a bit up at the bar. The second they were gone, Bob was rubbing at his eyes under his glasses, frustration rolling off of him in waves.

He could deal with the Baby-On-Board comments all day long, the snide comments throw his way as he worked his way through Maverick’s 200 push-ups. Hell, he could deal with the four-eyes jokes too. Did they get on his nerves? Absolutely. Was he at his breaking point today? Also yes. What sent him over the edge every time, without fail, was jokes about you.

It didn’t matter that you’d been together almost a year, that you’d been the first one to utter ‘I love you’ to him at three in the morning as you’d laid together in his bed, his insecurities never really went away, they were just satiated for periods. It was when Jake chose to remind him that you were, in fact, way out of his league that they came crawling back to the surface.

“Now, what’s my handsome pilot doing over here all alone?”

It was your voice in his ear suddenly, hands winding around his shoulders and fingers digging into his muscles as you leaned over the back of the booth, hugging him to you. Normally, Bob would be like putty in your hands, falling back into your touch and your words as every ounce of stress left him simply because he was in your presence. Today, though, his shoulders stayed tense as Hangman’s constant jeers and jabs from the last few hours floated around his head.

“Regretting leaving my house,”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the way Bob’s shoulders tensed up instead of relaxing into you, and slid your way around the bench so that you were sitting beside him. You craned your neck to try and get a look at his face, but Bob refused to look at you, the stress of the entire day on the verge of breaking over the surface.

“Come on, baby, what’s wrong-”

“Why don’t you ask Hangman?”

The question caught you absolutely off guard as you pulled away from your boyfriend slightly in confusion.

“Jake? The hell does he have to do with this?” when Bob didn’t answer you, you only continued. “Phoenix said he was giving you shit today, is that what this is about?”

“He thinks if you didn’t end up with me, you’d be with him. You’d be some perfect, gorgeous couple,”

“And what, you believe him?”

“I don’t hear you denying it,”

That was the moment that Bob decided to finally look at you, and he felt every ounce of frustration leave his body as he was racked with guilt and regret immediately.

“Wow. Okay, Bob,”

“No wait, baby-” he tried to place his hand on yours, but you’d already ducked out of the booth and stood beside it.

“No, you’ve made your point,” you refused to look at him now, and Bob close his eyes for a moment, knowing he’d fucked up. “I get it, Hangman can be a dick, but I chose you, Bob. If I wanted him, I’d have picked him, but I’ve only ever wanted you, and I chose you. I don’t care how much of a dick he was today, insinuating that isn’t cool.”

Bob knew you well enough to know that with the way you went storming out of the Hard Deck, chasing after you right now wouldn’t be the greatest idea in the world. It was at that moment that Jake and Bradley came back to the table, Jake whittling at the sight of you storming away.

“Ooooo, trouble in paradise?”

“For once, Hangman, please shut the fuck up,”

If you thought yesterday was a long day at work, nothing compared to the day after your disastrous Hard Deck night. You hadn’t texted Bob a single time, nor him you, even though you wanted to.

You let out another sigh to yourself as you stood at the copy machine in the office, rubbing at your under eyes. In hindsight, you felt that you had overreacted to the conversation last night, and you weren’t sure how to apologize to Bob for it. He’d had a long day, and so had you, and it simply had all culminated in that moment that anything could’ve set someone off.

“Hey,” you turned your head to see one of your coworkers, Jessica, standing at the doorway of the printer room you were in. She nodded her head in the direction of your office. “Someone is waiting in your office for you, by the way. Navy boy by the looks of it.”

You’d left the project on the printer in front of you, immediately walking back down the hallways in the direction of your office. You knew immediately who it was waiting for you, and it brought a small smile to your face as you turned through the door of the office.

Bob was standing directly by your desk with a small, almost timid smile, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as he took a step toward you, you taking one toward him as well.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” you answered, stepping up to him, just a foot away. You took a glance down, seeing him still decked out in his flight suit, straight from the base. “Aren’t you supposed to be on an F-18 right now?”

“Maverick was nice enough to give me the rest of the day off,” he commented, albeit sheepishly as he looked to the side for a moment. “After…the 300 or so push-ups he made me do.”

“Might be my fault there, he called me this morning once he got to base wanting to know about the ‘Hard Deck’ gossip that Rooster was talking about. Sorry,”

“You don’t have to apologize, I should be the one apologizing,”

You took the moment to glance down at the flowers in his hands, a smile growing. White tulips, a common symbol for apologies. Red roses, of course, representing love.

A single sunflower. The symbol of adoration and loyalty. You took the bouquet from him, inhaling the scent with a grin on your lips that he mirrored.

“They’re beautiful,”

“So are you,” Bob took the bouquet from you, placing it on top of the desk behind you both before taking your face in his hands. “I love you. You are, quite literally, the best thing that had ever happened to me, Sunflower. I shouldn’t have let him get in my head, and I shouldn’t have said what I did last night-”

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” you cut in, hands placed over the top of his own as you gazed up at him. “We were both frustrated, that’s all. You just have to remember that I chose you, because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he’d simply responded. “I’ll always love you.”

Just like that day he’d shown up on your doorstep in those dress whites, words weren’t needed between you both to simply collide together in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of love’d felt for this man since the moment you’d met him into it.

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #this is so cute I love insecurity fics

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callsign-bobsgirl · 5 months ago

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Thinking about Jake dating a middle school teacher and he comes in for career day only to have her whole class roast him.

"Why do you look like great value brand Captain America?'

"Does the military pay for veneers or was that out of pocket?"

"Why is your callsign a game we played in third grade? Were the cooler ones already taken?"

"Sounds fake but okay boomer."

Meanwhile, his girlfriend is in the back laughing her ass off.

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callsign-bobsgirl · 5 months ago

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admitting- b.floyd

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a/n: i got this idea from the comments of my last post with ranch! bob floyd so thank you to @nerdgirljen for planting this idea in my head!

summary: how bob finally gets what he wants

pairing: ranch! bob floyd x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, slight praise and degradation kink, unprotected piv, talk of cum (i think that's it?)

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He’d had the dream again. He was a dad. You two had a baby girl and boy, twins. He was playing with them out in the field and you were by the picnic blanket, pregnant in one of your gorgeous sundresses.

Fuck he wanted it so bad.

He got out of your shared bed and walked downstairs, grabbing himself a cold cup of water. He chugged it down as his mind raced, thinking about your kids, how beautiful you’d look pregnant, how much he wanted to get you pregnant and-

Oh. Bob was hard.

This had been an increasingly common issue in recent months, essentially since you two moved onto the ranch and got engaged. You both had chosen that you’d wait until after the wedding to start trying, since you wanted to have the wedding, a nice honeymoon, and a few months alone as newlyweds without kids or pregnancy to spoil your fun.

If Bob had it his way? You’d already be pregnant. Since moving to Texas and with the summer was fast-approaching, you usually opt for sundresses, long skirts and breezy tops, or shorts with one of his light hoodies. Some days, you'd forego clothes all together and just walk around in a swimsuit or just your bra and panties.

It was driving him mad. Everyday, you looked so fucking good he could barely keep it in his pants. You two fucked like rabbits, in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. But every time you did, the dreaded question of ‘do you have a condom?’ would dampen his fantasy. He didn’t mind, trust me, it’s just he knew how good you’d look with his kid inside of you, his marks on your neck, and his ring on your finger.

“Are you thinking about it again?” you asked sleepily, leaning against him.

Bob’s face turned pink. He’d been caught, but how did you know? “Well baby… yeah.”

“I’m so excited,” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be amazing.”

Bob turned around from his position of leaning on the counter. His arms wrapped around you with his hands smoothing up your back and his lips finding yours in a sweet kiss. “Yeah, I can’t wait to be parents.”

Your head snapped up and looked at him quizzically. “What?”

Of course that wasn’t what you meant. He doesn’t exactly bring up his sexual fantasies that often, and when he does it’s usually just to do it raw, or from the back. He’s a pretty vanilla guy, but don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing.

He stuttered his way through half a sentence before you cut him off. “I want to be a mom too.”

He smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your wedding was 4 weeks away, what’s the worst that could happen?

“And I want you to fuck a baby into me,” you whispered seductively and Bob’s brain short circuited.

“Really?” he asked as you pulled his top up and over his head, kissing his neck.

“Please Bob,” you begged and he knew he couldn’t say no.

He grabbed your waist and turned the position around, now your back was against the counter and he was pulling off your clothes, leaving you bare in front of him. “Walkin’ around everyday in those damn sundresses, just waitin’ for me to fuck a baby into you, weren’t you?” he kissed up and down your neck as he groped you all over.

You moaned at his words alone. When you two had sex, his accent came out a lot more, which was a definite turn-on for you.

“I asked a question honey,” he stopped his kisses and delivered a soft smack to your ass.

“Yes! Yes! Always for you! All for you!” you whined and he smirked. One thing no one would even truly understand was that, while he was the perfect gentleman outside of your bedroom (or kitchen counter, or bathtub, or couch, or stables, or car, or plane- yes it happened, but only once) he was down-right depraved in bed. His hands grabbed anywhere, his lips were all over your skin, and his dick? He was huge.

“Good girl,” he cooed and you could feel yourself getting wetter. “My good girl, right?” You moaned out an incoherent agreement and his finger ran through your folds. “So wet for me, yeah?”

“All for you,” you whined. “Please I-I want it-” Your begging was lost in your throat as you felt his dick pushing in. The entire length of it was shocking, and the girth was something you’d never get used to.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “You’re such a good girl, letting me take you like this, on the kitchen counter,” he cooed as he started to slowly move, wrapping his hand over your chin to turn you so he could watch you. His other hand landed on your hip, kneading the skin there. “You gonna’ let me fuck a baby into you?”

You nodded furiously as you moaned into his hand. “Please, I want it-”

“Be patient honey, you’ll get what you want,” he smirked.

He picked up the pace as you screamed and moaned his name, something he’d never get enough of. Your voice as you screamed out in pleasure, as he was giving you that pleasure, he’d never stop loving it.

“Bob! Bob, I-I’m close!” you whined. “Please don’t stop-”

“I’m not stoppin’ ‘till I put a baby in you,” he groaned and he felt your walls clamp down on him as you came, squirting all over his cock. He came with you. But he pushed himself and you through overstimulation and continued fucking you. His finger circled your over-sensitive clit, his cock was snapping in and out of you at a godly pace, and his cum shooting into you again, triggered another orgasm.

He pulled out and plugged it with his finger, kissing you sweetly. “I don’t want you to waste any of it, yeah?”

You just nodded your head, to fucked out to even respond.

“Good girl,” he smiled. “You’re going to be such a pretty momma,” he smirked as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, fucking his cum deeper into you. You leaned against the counter as he fingered you to another orgasm, spewing lines like “my perfect girl, ye’ gonna give me a baby?” and “Gonna look so beautiful pregnant with my kids,” and your personal favourite; “God you’re my whore, lettin’ me come inside like that.”

You came a lot that night.

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He carried you back up to bed, dressed, and cleaned you up, then planted a soft kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep on his chest.

Maybe he should admit his sexual fantasies more often.

And maybe he should start painting the nursery.

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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

topgun masterlist :) (requests open!)

#robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #nsft

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callsign-bobsgirl · 6 months ago

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real writers don’t have writer’s block because they never start writing in the first place.

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callsign-bobsgirl · 7 months ago

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Gentle

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. Minors, DNI.

Notes: No physical reader descriptions, no use of y/n. Also not beta-read. Because it never is.

Length: 3.6K

Warnings: Bradley took Reader's virginity and didn't know it; Reader was an older virgin; mentions of public sex; under-negotiated kinks; wrist restraints (belt); protected sex; vaginal sex; dirty talk; rough sex; aftercare

Summary: You expect him to be so righteously angry—a pinched expression, a knit brow, a tight jaw. But there’s something in those warm, dark eyes that looks so painfully mournful.

It’s unfair. You both came. What’s he so put out about?

You’d almost prefer his anger to whatever the hell this is. Anger you could handle—but does he regret last night?

It’s a throwaway comment, one that you’re positive he’ll miss. The bar is bustling and so busy that it's a wonder he’s heard your friend crow it at all:

“To seeing you with that freshly-fucked glow for the first time!”

You aren’t scandalized by what she says. You’d told her the truth of it last night—offered sparse details and omitted names. You laugh and cheers with your friends. You’re not embarrassed by the mention, the tease.

But your insides are burning hot at the sight of Bradley in your periphery, his beer frozen halfway to his lips. You drain your drink and clear your throat, simply offering, “Getting another one,” As you push away from the table. You’re determined not to look at him as you go, praying that he just lets it pass.

But Bradley Bradshaw has never been good at just letting things go.

You’d been grateful for that last night.

There had been something zipping between the two of you all day—little looks and lingering glances that had fanned your flames, blossoming into a wildfire as he’d led you into the alley by the bar the night before. You had felt the heat of him behind you, thrilled at the scent of his cologne, the bristle and prickle of his mustache and lips against your neck as his hands had grasped your hips to still you.

You feel the heat of him as he comes to stand beside you now, smell his cologne as he sets an empty beer bottle down on the bar. Neither of you speak for a few moments. You’d hardly looked at him last night, either—pressed face-first against the brick wall of the alley, your pants around your knees with Bradley’s hand over your mouth to quiet you, his hot breath, soft groans and bitten-off swears pushed against the shell of your ear.

It's a shame, you think, that you’re locked into this pattern with Bradley. He does have the sweetest eyes.

“You should’ve told me.”

He says it just loudly enough for you to hear it over the murmur of bar noise, the conversation, rattle of cocktail shaking, and the distant strain of REO Speedwagon over the recessed speakers.

Maybe you should’ve. There had been a split-second when you considered it, but it had all happened so fast.

It wasn’t how you’d always expected it to be. There was no bed covered in rose petals, no romantic music. You’d been so caught up in your need, in the thrill of feeling Bradley as desperate for you as you were for him.

You’d decided, as you’d showered last night, felt the ache of him between your thighs, eyed the bloom of bruises on your hips and a scrape on your cheek from where you’d been pressed against the brick a little too hard, that it was okay. You didn’t need roses or romantic music. You’d just needed the ferocity that Bradley had fucked you with, and the brush of his rough, work-worn fingertips against your neglected clit, and the moan of his voice in your ear as his hips stuttered and slapped against yours.

“You didn’t ask.”

You realize as Bradley shifts testily beside you that it’s the wrong thing to say, and maybe a little unfair. You tack on, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, it does. I figured—”

“I know. S'okay. Let it go, Bradshaw.” It’s unlikely, but worth a shot. If there’s one thing Bradley loves, it’s proving people wrong. You know as well as he does just how stubborn he can be, how by-the-book. But some things just nag and nag and he has to litigate them.

You can tell that this’ll be one of the things that he won’t stand for. Dog with a bone. Knight with a righteous cause.

“You should’ve told me.”

It’s his new refrain, you realize. You can’t imagine how he must’ve felt when he heard your friend, saw you laugh, waited for you to correct or argue with her. And did he notice the scratch on your cheek then? Did he think of the push of his body against yours, the quiver of your thighs as he’d stretched you wide around him, the buzz of your whimper against his fingers as he finally fucked you?

"Doesn't matter,” You insist again. “Drop it.”

“You should’ve told me—”

“Lower your voice.”

“I would’ve been more gentle.”

“I didn’t want you to be more gentle,” You snap, finally turning to meet his eye. You realize immediately that it’s a mistake. You expect him to be so righteously angry—a pinched expression, a knit brow, a tight jaw. But there’s something in those warm, dark eyes that looks so painfully mournful.

It’s unfair. You both came. What’s he so put out about?

You’d almost prefer his anger to whatever the hell this is. Anger you could handle—but does he regret last night? You sure as shit don’t.

Your jaw works tightly as you fold your arms against your chest and turn back to the bar. He can regret it all he wants, if that’s what this is.

“Anyway,” You press on, “I enjoyed myself. Thought you did, too.”

“I did—” Small wonder, “But—”

“‘But’ nothing, Bradshaw. We both had a good time. Just…Forget it.”

You hear Bradley draw in a deep breath before his hand lightly comes down on the bar. When he curses this time, it doesn’t make your stomach flip with excitement. It just pisses you off.

“Get in.”

Your annoyance has cooled and shifted to nerves. You glance around the parking lot, openly unsure. You can get a car to take you home. It could be there in two minutes, have you home in twenty.

Bradley stands still as a statue, hand holding open the passenger side door as he waits. It wasn’t a question like he’d asked last night—”Wanna take a walk?” It isn’t a murmur accompanied by a warm hand on your lower back, steering you away from the thudding bass of the bar, from your friends as your stomach fluttered with anticipation.

It’s an order, one that you’re tempted to disobey.

But you climb into the Bronco and buckle up. You look straight through the windshield as he gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car. The drive is quiet, and does nothing to calm your nerves. Once Bradley parks, he just warns, “Don’t,” when you reach for the door handle. You expect him to launch into a lecture, but he gets out, rounding the car and opening the door for you.

He’s practically your shadow as he follows you to the front door. You step aside once it’s open, unsure if Bradley will turn and head home, his self-appointed duty done. But he steps inside, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it over the back of your couch. He’s been there once or twice, but he still takes his time looking around as you lock up behind him and take off your shoes.

“Shoes off, Bradshaw.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You want something to drink?” You ask, stepping past him.

“Water.”

“You hungry?”

“No.”

You nod, flipping on the light in your kitchen and grabbing a couple of glasses for the two of you. You can hear Bradley's footsteps as he drifts lazily through your living room, joining you in the kitchen and taking the proffered glass of water with a murmur of thanks. The two of you sip in silence for a few moments.

“Maybe I should’ve—” You start, then back off as you feel Bradley turning to look at you. You take another gulp of your water. “There just didn’t seem like the right moment to mention it. And bringing it up—it all would’ve felt like a bigger deal. I didn’t want that.”

“Could’ve told me afterward.”

“We were more focused on getting back to the others.”

“You tell ‘em it was me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of their business. Besides, they wouldn't care—and they didn’t ask.”

“Seems to be your answer for everything these days.”

You roll your eyes, setting your empty water glass in the sink.

“Okay. You bring me home just to scold me?”

“No.”

Bradley steps closer, lowering his water glass into the sink beside yours. You watch his hand lift. Your eyelashes flutter as he cups your jaw, turning your head toward him, his thumb sweeping gently across your skin.

“Look at me.” He orders. Your focus sweeps up slowly, mapping the swell of his lips, the scattering of scars, the line of his nose before your eyes finally settle on his. He’s devoid of anger, still, and the sorrow is gone. Bradley’s expression seems deceptively neutral, and that’s far more concerning than any look he’s given you before.

“Where’s your room.”

There still aren’t any roses, but at least there’s a real bed this time. Bradley doesn’t guide you face-first into one of your walls or against the door. He keeps a firm grasp on your jaw as his tongue slips between your lips. You wind your arms around his shoulders, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

You try to urge him back toward the bed, but Bradley slides a hand down to your throat, giving it a warning little squeeze that makes you melt. You smooth one of your hands down his front, fingers skating along the cool metal of his belt buckle. Before you can undo it, Bradley catches hold of your wrist. He breaks your kiss, using the grasp on your throat to tip your head up to the side, and smoothing his lips along the exposed skin.

“Slow down,” He murmurs against your jaw, the buzz of it tickling your skin.

“But—”

“Slow down.” It’s firmer now, and you have to tamp down a grin. You know what that tone is like from Bradley. You’re certain you can wind up face-first on your bed if you play your cards right.

You just have to piss him off a little.

You wriggle your wrist from his grasp, tipping your head down against the press of his hand, desperate to catch sight of his belt buckle as you fumble for it with both hands. You hear the short, irritated huff of Bradley’s breath before he catches both of your wrists in one hand. Your mouth waters at the clank of his buckle being undne as he gives your wrists a squeeze and shoves them away from him.

“Take your clothes off,” He orders. “All of them.”

There’s steel in his voice now. You begin to turn, your hands curling around the hem of your shirt when you hear him tut.

“Face me.”

Your face burns hot as you go still. Bradley’s expression is flat again: mirthless eyes, and a firm press to his lips. You tug your shirt up and over your head, undo your bra, then shove down your pants and underwear.

“Get on the bed.”

You sit, and wait.

“Lie down.”

You should scooch back toward your headboard, but instead, you flop down where you are, feet still on the floor. You yelp as Bradley lands a slap on your outer thigh.

“Don’t play dumb,” He warns. “Go on.”

You finally slide back, watching Bradley undress and fish a foil packet out of his back pocket. You eye his body covetously as he walks closer, climbing over you and straddling your hips, tossing the condom by your pillow.

“Hands up.”

You raise them obediently, holding perfectly still and hardly breathing as he loops the belt around your wrists. He holds your eye as he winds the belt around your wrists and the bedposts, a single brow raised. You can call it off now—you know he'll unwind it, pull back, stop.

When you nod, Bradley tightens it, the leather biting into your skin.

You want what he gave you in the alley—the rush, his force, his ferocity and bruises. But Bradley kneels on the bed in front of you, curling his hands around your ankles, skimming them up slowly. You squirm, feeling exposed and vulnerable as his hands slip over your thighs, up across your belly.

“Bradley—”

“Hush.”

You suck in a soft breath as his fingers smooth over your sides, pressure just firm enough to keep from tickling you. His head dips, kissing over your belly, up to the underside of one of your breasts. You try to arch into his lips as he leans further up.

“Please,” You whine, but his tongue sweeps between your lips before you can say another word. You wilt back against the bed, your fingers curling and flexing around one another as your wrists strain against the belt, the buckle clanking against the bed frame. You want nothing more than to grasp and pull his hair, feel the slide of the strands against your skin.

“But—” You breathe as he breaks the kiss.

“Shuddup.” It buzzes against your skin as his kisses travel back down, sucking at each nipple, sweeping past your belly button as his shoulders push your thighs wide. You pull in a shocked breath as his hot breath skates across your pussy, chased by the teasing flicker of the tip of his tongue. You whimper, chasing the slick heat before Bradley’s hands curl around your hips. You open your mouth to complain again—but it dies on your tongue as Bradley laps broadly across your lips. He buries your face between your thighs, moaning lustfully against your slick skin. Your nails dig into your palms at the rattle of his groan shakes through you.

You whine, knees tightening around his shoulders as you shove your hips down against his lips. And though you’d expected him to reprimand you, Bradley’s hand slides up between your thighs, fingers teasing at your pussy. It’s only a moment before he slips one inside, curling it before adding another. You huff softly, cunt squeezing around him as his fingers pumping in and out—and in and out again as your hips chase his manic rhythm.

Your wrists yank against the belt, hips bounding as you chase the curl and snap of your orgasm, Bradley’s name falling from your lips as your pussy rolls against his tongue. He hums, lapping at your pleasure as your cunt clutches at his fingers. Your voice quiets as you settle, cunt pulsing as Bradley nuzzles your thigh, lightly nipping at the skin and slickly soothing it as your movements slow.

As you come back to yourself, you can’t deny the thrill of catching Bradley’s eye—the heat of it as he peers over your belly; the sly glint as he laves his tongue back and forth, fingers curling in your still-pulsing opening. You part your lips, waggling your tongue and grinning as Bradley surges up.

You whimper as you taste your arousal on his tongue, shiver as his fingers withdraw and his cock twitches against your inner thigh. Your hips tip up on instinct, chasing the heat as Bradley’s length twitches against you. He reels back just far enough to grab the foil packet by your head, ripping it open with his teeth, and sheathing his cock in the latex.

“Please,” You mumble before he can ask or tease, “Please—Need it, Bradley, I—Oh, fuck,” You gasp as he drives into you with a single stroke. Your pussy clutches at him, your nails digging into the leather of the belt as you push your hips up into his. Bradley’s hands land on either side of your head, flexing in the fabric of your pillow case as he holds himself steadily over you.

“Shuddup,” He groans again—But my god, it’s a tighter sound than it was before, and it makes your pussy grasp at him as his face presses into your neck.

“Bradley–”

“Quiet—”

“I need it,” You whimper, shoving your hips up against his, “Fuck, you feel so—Mm, Bradley, please—”

“Just—”

“I want more, Bradley, ‘m so—”

You gag at the sudden intrusion of two fingers sliding between your lips. Your mouth falls open, eyes glazing and tongue laving against the rough pads of his fingertips as they rub over your tongue.

You let your jaw go slack, whines spiraling from between your lips as he finger-fucks your mouth, hips slapping against yours in tandem. Your toes curl in the fabric of your sheets, wrists yanking against your restraints. Bradley plants his knees against the mattress, his hips slamming against yours as the headboard rattles against your wall. You wind one of your legs around his, sucking in a breath as his free hand grasps and squeezes your thigh.

Bradley pushes his face into your neck, fingers slipping from your mouth to hold your hips. You can’t fight the way your voice stutters in his throat at the slow, concentrated roll of his body against yours. You try to push against him, to urge and speed his pace, but Bradley seems to neither hear nor feel your urging and whines.

It’s no use. Bradley’s grasp keeps you pinned in place, the slow grind of his hips drawing your orgasm nearer and nearer.

“That’s it,” He encourages against your jaw. He groans as your cunt pulses around him, your hips bucking as your back arches.

“Faster,” You breathe, then gasp as his strokes slow and deepen. Your eyes slip closed, pressing your head back against the pillow as your push your body up against his. You shiver, knees squeezing around his hips as the coil of pleasure in your belly tightens.

“Look at me,” He urges, hand lifting to curl around your jaw. Your head flops like a ragdoll’s, eyes blinking blearily up at him. Your heart stuttering in your chest at the heated focus on his face—the parted, panting lips, and the way his dark eyes skate from your mouth to your slightly unfocused gaze. He tuts when your eyelashes flutter, giving your jaw a squeeze before you can close them.

“Ah ah. Eyes on me, baby,” Bradley orders. “Show me how bad you want it—Show me,” He repeats as my mouth falls open to insist, “Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear another fucking word. You’ll take what I give you,” He growls, “And when you’ve cum, you’ll fucking thank me for it.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as you buck up against Bradley, mouth falling open in a stunned, guttural shout as you cum, cunt pulsing around his cock. Bradley curses, dipping his head and laying a bite on your shoulder as his hips continue to grind slowly and steadily, fucking you slowly through your orgasm.

You wait for him to follow, to tip over the edge, but Bradley’s hips don’t stutter and slow like they did last night. Instead, his fingers slip between the two of you, teasing over your tender, swollen clit as his tongue sweeps across the freshly laid bite mark. You hiss in a shocked breath, hips bucking up into his rough touch.

“Br-Bradley—”

“Gimme another one.”

Your hands slowly slip down to rest over your head as Bradley unwinds the belt from your wrists, dropping it across his other clothes where they were discarded by the bed. You sigh contentedly as you feel the bed dip and shift beneath you, and hear the soft pad of his footsteps as he leaves the room.

You know that you should move your arms, get some blood back into them, check your wrists, but for a few moments, you just lay there and let your body settle. Your cunt still pulses from the slow, sensual rolls of Bradley's hips, the sure and even way that he’d fucked you through another two orgasms before finally coming undone himself. You draw your knees together, shivering again as you squeeze your slick thighs together.

“Here,” You hear. Your head lolls to the side, eyes blinking open as Bradley sets a glass of water down on the bedside table. Before you can try and push yourself up, Bradley sits beside you, hooking his arms around your back and helping you slowly sit up. Your head swims a little, and Bradley shushes you softly as you close your eyes to stop your head from pounding, resting your head forward onto his shoulder.

“Y’alright?”

“I think so,” You mumble.

“Give it a minute.”

“Mm.” You lean back against the headboard, eyes still closed as Bradley’s hands gently brush over your quivering thighs. “I should get cleaned up.”

“We will,” He says. “Water's heating up for the bath.”

You peek open one eye, brow raising in surprise. We, huh? But Bradley holds your eyes steadily, unflinching as he picks the water up and holds it out. Your arms throb slightly as you lift them to take the cup, drawing in a sip, then a gulp.

“Slow down,” He chuckles.

“Mmm. That again?” You ask, passing back the glass. “All I got tonight was slow.”

Bradley sets the glass aside, scooching closer and nudging his nose against yours. He searches your gaze for a moment before his eyes dip to your lips.

“You deserve slow,” He murmurs, “You deserve thorough. And one’a these days, I’m gonna teach you,” His lips ghost yours, “How good gentle can be.”

“That’s not what tonight was?”

“With a belt around your wrists? No, baby,” He chuckled. “That’s not what tonight was.” He leans away, grinning as you lean up, lips chasing his. “I’ll go check on the bath. Finish that water.”

“Yessir.” You watch him get up, swiping your tongue over your lips. “Bradley?”

He turns, brows raised expectantly, and smiling when he sees you reaching for him. He leans back in when you smooth your hand over his neck, submitting to the soft, searching kiss that you pull him in for.

“For the record," You tip your head back, "You were exactly what I wanted—last night and tonight."

Relief flickers in his warm eyes, lips quirking in a slight smile as he covers his mouth with yours again.

"For the record," He murmurs. "You're gonna like gentle."

"I know I'm gonna like it," You insist, leaning back against the headboard, "Long as it's with you."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 @nominalnebula

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #nsft #bradley bradshaw smut

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callsign-bobsgirl · 8 months ago

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The man’s a stealth pilot. Literally. Weapons systems officer, actually.

TOP GUN: MAVERICK 2022, dir. Joseph Kosinski

#and with that he stole my heart #my baby boy #the love of my life #bob floyd

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callsign-bobsgirl · 8 months ago

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Lewis Pullman's ✨face journey✨ Guzzle Buddies (2024) dir. Michael Rees

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callsign-bobsgirl · 9 months ago

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Them : You Can't Hear a Picture

Me :

🤣🤣

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callsign-bobsgirl · 9 months ago

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funny how they’re called birth control goggles but when bob floyd wears them they’re definitely baby making goggles

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callsign-bobsgirl · 9 months ago

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saw a video compilation a woman posted of her husband and their dog. the dog constantly brings toys to the husband and every single time he enthusiastically goes "very nice, honey!" no matter how many times he's already seen the toy. anyway this is very bob floyd coded and he would so do this with his pup

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callsign-bobsgirl · 9 months ago

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Lewis Pullman as Bob TOP GUN: MAVERICK (2022)

#bob floyd

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callsign-bobsgirl · 9 months ago

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shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob was starving.

He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.

It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.

Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.

Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.

As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”

Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.

As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.

The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.

As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.

It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.

A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.

He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.

As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.

He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.

Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.

At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.

“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.

As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.

“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.

You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”

As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.

“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.

Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.

You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.

You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.

Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.

“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.

“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.

Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.

“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”

You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.

“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”

You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.

“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.

You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.

That’s what he thought.

As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.

You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.

Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.

He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.

He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.

“Hello again.”

The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.

Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.

“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”

“I forgot some tom—”

You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.

“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.

“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.

Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.

“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”

Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.

“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.

“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”

You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”

The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.

His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.

When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.

Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.

You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.

“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”

You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.

“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere

#robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader

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callsign-bobsgirl · 10 months ago

Text

10 Flaws to Give Your Perfect Characters to Make Them Human

If you're tired of the usual vices like arrogance or impatience, here are some unique (or at least less basic) character flaws to give your perfect characters:

Pathological Altruism

A character so obsessed with helping others that they end up doing more harm than good. Their inability to let others grow or face consequences creates tension.

2. Moral Narcissism

A character who sees themselves as morally superior to others, constantly justifying selfish or harmful actions because they believe they have the moral high ground.

3. Chronic Self-Sabotage

A character who intentionally undermines their own success, perhaps due to deep-seated feelings of unworthiness, pushing them into frustrating, cyclical failures.

4. Emotional Numbness

Rather than feeling too much, this character feels too little. Their lack of emotional response to critical moments creates isolation and makes it difficult for them to connect with others.

5. Fixation on Legacy

This character is obsessed with how they’ll be remembered after death, often sacrificing present relationships and happiness for a future that’s uncertain.

6. Fear of Irrelevance

A character-driven by the fear that they no longer matter, constantly seeking validation or pursuing extreme measures to stay important in their social or professional circles.

7. Addiction to Novelty

Someone who needs constant newness in their life, whether it’s experiences, relationships, or goals. They may abandon projects, people, or causes once the excitement fades, leaving destruction in their wake.

8. Compulsive Truth-Telling

A character who refuses to lie, even in situations where a lie or omission would be the kinder or more pragmatic choice. This flaw causes unnecessary conflict and social alienation.

9. Over-Identification with Others' Pain

Instead of empathy, this character feels others' pain too intensely, to the point that they can’t function properly in their own life. They’re paralyzed by the suffering of others and fail to act effectively.

10. Reluctant Power

A character who fears their own strength, talent, or influence and is constantly trying to shrink themselves to avoid the responsibility or consequences of wielding it.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok

PS: This is my first short-form blog post! Lmk if you liked it and want to see more (I already have them scheduled you don't have a choice)

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callsign-bobsgirl · 10 months ago

Note

f you’re still doing prompts : jake and shy wifey !

please. make me feel good. no one else can like you.

❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

Body Love || Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Y/N has been having a hard time feeling confident since the births of her twins. Jake is determined to make her remember how beautiful she is.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smutty-ish, cursing, negative self talk, mentions of c-sections

note: lmao not me going back to my graduation challenge requests. but think of this as a soft launch before whumptober gets started

She was doing it again. Jake had caught her doing it several times in the past couple of days. That look in her eye told him that what she was looking at, she didn’t like what she was seeing in the mirror. She furrowed her eyebrows as she touched her cheeks gently, poking at the skin on her face. Jake tried his hardest to stay out of sight to watch her.

Y/N was gorgeous. She was the most gorgeous girl that Jake had ever laid eyes on. Her body had changed a lot over the years from age, and carrying five of the most beautiful kids that Jake had ever seen in his life. Her thighs were a bit bigger, her stomach not as flat as it used to be, her breasts weren’t as perky, and her hair had some grays in it, all small changes of age and being a mother. But the scar that sat on her lower abdomen was the most noticeable to her. The scar wasn’t there a year ago, but it was now a permanent reminder of probably the worst day of her life.

The pregnancy and birth of Jasper and Maxwell Seresin had been anything but easy. Throughout the whole thing, Y/N was having problems with her blood pressure. One moment it was too high, and the next it would be too low. She had tried her best to remain as stress-free as possible, but it was hard with a naval aviator for a husband and three other kids running around the house. A c-section was the last thing she wanted, but when it came down to a life-or-death situation, Y/N agreed to it. The scar reminded her of the moment when she almost lost her babies. She didn’t like it, but Jake loved it.

He loved every single mark on her tummy. Whenever they were intimate, Jake would kiss every single stretch mark on her tummy, sending flutters through her body. But they hadn’t been that intimate since Jasper and Maxwell were born nearly a year ago. Y/N never liked to take her shirt off anymore when they would have sex. She would hardly show herself when they would get dressed in the morning, she’d either step into the closet or the bathroom. They didn’t shower or bathe together like they once did, in fact, she went as far as locking the door whenever she did to deter Jake from entering.

Jake didn’t like being iced out like this. He had spent years trying to break down her walls, to get her to let him. She slowly opened up to him, and gradually built up that confidence to let him know everything about her, to let him truly see her. But now, it felt like he had moved ten steps backward.

He sighed and pushed off the wall he was leaning on, as he watched Y/N lift her shirt gently and run her fingertips over the scar. She looked at the reflection of the scar in the mirror and frowned at it. Jake walked up behind her, and placed his hands on her hips, causing her to jump at the action. Y/N tried to push her shirt back down to cover the scar, but he stopped her.

“Why do you hide this from me?” Jake asked, looking at the scar in the mirror. He gently ran his thumb over the skin and leaned his head into the crook of her neck.

“I don’t like it,” She answered, “I hate seeing it. It’s ugly.”

“Yeah, but it reminds you of how much of a champion you are,” Jake said, and placed his lips on her skin, “Shows the sacrifice that you made to bring your babies into the world.”

“They were cut out of me,” She sniffled and looked away from the scar. “My last babies and I didn’t even actually give birth to them.”

“Stop that, yes you did,” Jake turned her body, so she was facing him. He gently lifted her head up, “You gave birth to Jasper and Maxwell. It wasn’t how you wanted it to be, but you still did it. It still means something.”

“Why have you stayed with me?” Y/N asked him honestly, looking up at his big green eyes. She could see the heartbreak in his eyes the moment the words left her mouth, “I-I’m not as pretty, or as confident or as smart as some of the girls you used to bring around the Hard Deck. So, why did you choose me? Why did you stay with me?”

“I stayed with you because you didn’t throw yourself at me, or any of the other pilots that walked into there. I chose you because you are a kind, gentle, old soul, who would rather stay home and eat strawberry cupcakes and watch Bob Ross paint ‘happy little trees’ instead of going out and getting piss drunk,” Jake explained, “I chose you, because when I saw you. . . I saw my whole future. I saw our wedding, I saw our first house, our first deployment, our kids, that huge ass flower garden you made me plant and sat by sipping on lemonade looking as good as a Sin on Sunday,” Y/N chuckled at his words. Jake caressed her cheek, and kissed both of them, before grabbing both her hands,

“If I could go back in time to the night that we first met, I would choose you, over and over,” Jake said and kissed her lips.

“Even though I look like this now,” She gestured to her body.

“Especially when you look like this,” Jake said. Y/N let out a gasp as Jake quickly turned them, and placed her on the bed. He climbed on top of her, and looked down at her body, “God damn, you look so fucking sexy. You looked sexy then, and you look sexy now. Your body has changed in the most delicious ways.” Jake pressed his hips into hers, and her eyes widened at the feeling of his semi-hard cock, “I get hard just thinking about you. Thinking about your ass, your thighs, your tits, your tummy.”

He moaned as his hands grazed the sides of her stomach, “Your tummy. . . fuck, it has to be my favorite place. I love it. I love seeing it stretch and grow with my kids.” Jake pushed the shirt that she was wearing up underneath her boobs, and started placing kisses down her sternum, to her belly.

“Please Jake,” Y/N panted.

“You don’t realize how crazy you drive me,” Jake shook his head, climbing back up her body, and placing kisses on her neck, “Fuck sometimes I feel like a fucking teenager, getting instantly hard when you walk into a room.” He pushed his hips against hers, his hard-on straining against his joggers.

“Show me,” Y/N whispered, grabbing his face in her hands, “Show me what I do to you. Make me feel good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, green eyes peering down at her, a hint of mischief in them, “You want me to make you feel good?” Jake’s hand slowly worked down her body, until he was cupping her covered pussy in his hand. Y/N nodded her head frantically, shamelessly grinding against his hand. He was hardly even touching her, and she was begging for him, “What do you want from me, Y/N? Tell me.”

“Your fingers, in me.”

“Like this?” Jake asked, feigning innocence as he slipped his hand down the front of the boxer shorts she was wearing. His fingers expertly parted her, sliding through her slick and gently into her. Y/N’s head tilted back with a loud moan.

“Yes,” Y/N moaned as Jake’s fingers curled in and out of her, his lips sucking gently at her neck, “No one else can make me feel good like you do.” Jake nodded his head, pulling his fingers out of her and gently circling her clit, “Fuck, Jake.”

“So naughty for me,” Jake chuckled against her skin, “I love it when you curse.”

“I love it when you touch me,” Y/N said back, her hand reaching down to palm him through his pants. She pressed her lips against his, her free hand gripping the back of his neck and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. Jake’s hips bucked into her hand, as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

“Jake,” Y/N cried out, as his fingers slipped back into her, curling them against that sweet spot, “Make me cum, please.” “Don’t worry baby,” Jake cooed, grabbing her hand and pinning it above her. She whined at the loss of pleasure from him, “You’re mine and I take care of what belongs to me.”

taglist: @damrlova @phoenix138 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @malindacath @justenoughmadnesss @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592 @noonenuts @marvellouscroissant @senawashere @bradshawsprincess @alwayshave-faith

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#jake seresin x reader

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