#bob x y/n

[srpayt0n]

Request from twitter! Bob x YN doodles...

[lieutenantfloyd]

Springtime with Bob ♡

[cringiestcroissant]

POV: You once complimented on the burger the cook at your favorite burger joint made and now every time you come in for another he sits across from you and stares at you creepily asking how the burger is.

-

this. couldve been executed better but . eh.

[the-sun-and-the-sky]

The Dress

Summary: A shopping trip leaves Bob with a new obsession.

Pairing: Bob x gf!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, making out in public places, and no beta reading so good luck

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remind me again why I can’t just wear my uniform?” You ask, annoyance creeping into your voice. “It would make everything so much easier.” 

You gather a handful of fabric in your hand and twist back and forth in front of the mirrors. Try as you might, you still can’t properly see the back of the dress you’re currently trying on. The pale blue fabric scratches against your hand and you let it drop with a frustrated sigh. 

Behind you, your boyfriend chuckles lightly. Without having to turn, you glare at him in the mirror. Bob holds his hands up in surrender as he moves to stand next to you. 

“Because this technically isn’t a Navy function,” Bob reminds you gently. “So you’re not required to wear your uniform.” 

You sigh again. You hate shopping on a deadline. Especially when none of the options are grabbing your attention. 

“And,” your boyfriend’s voice lowers, the southern drawl becoming more pronounced. “I want to see you all dressed up. Want to show you off.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. When you glance over at him, his eyes are dark behind his glasses watching you. 

You’d met Bob a few years ago when you’d both been assigned to the same squadron. There hadn’t been anything between you at first, just an appreciation for your skill as a pilot and his as a WSO. And while both of you flew with other WSOs and pilots respectively, you’d still found time to hang out and get to know each other. 

Aircraft carriers are lonely places and before long, the two of you struck up a friendship that quickly devolved into other things. And that was how, nearly two years later, you were spending your weekend in a dress shop with your boyfriend, trying on dresses for a mutual friend’s engagement party. 

“I’m just gonna…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely at the dressing room. 

Bob nods and steps back to give you your space as you gather the dress up and make your way across the large, empty room to the curtained-off section. You feel his eyes on you up until the curtain falls shut. 

Inside the dressing room, it looks like a bomb went off. Rejected dresses hang haphazardously on their hooks, a mess of colors and fabrics. The blue dress you’re wearing joins them. The airconditioned air hits your bare skin and you shiver as you consider the next option. 

Three more dresses hang on the “yet to be tried” hook. With resignation, you reach for the top one, a lovely peach dress with a long skirt and plunging neckline. But you have a hard time getting excited about it. 

The strap of the dress catches on another hook and you tug, trying to free it. A hint of red grabs your attention. You hang the peach dress back up, already forgotten, and reach to pull the red one out. Silk brushes against your fingers. You’d forgotten about this one. 

Normally, when you weren’t in uniform, you preferred to wear soft, pale colors and loose-fitting outfits. You liked how they fit and how they complimented your skin. That familiarity was reflected in the choice of dresses you’d picked out to try today. All of them, that is, save this one, which you’d impulsively grabbed and buried under the safer options. 

Quickly, and without second-guessing yourself, you slip into the red silk dress. The soft fabric falls around your thighs and the neckline gathers just above the swell of your breasts. You twist, watching the way the dress hugs your curves. The silk feels cool against your skin and you can just make out the crisscross of thin laces showing off your back. 

You take a breath, readying a quick joke, and push back the curtain. But anything you might have said dies on your tongue as Bob’s gaze falls on you. For a moment, neither of you moves as your boyfriend takes in the dress. You swear you can feel the heat from his gaze as his eyes drink in every bit of red silk and exposed skin. 

You finally break the silence. “So, thoughts?” 

You move to stand in front of one of the large mirrors spaced throughout the room. You pretend to fuss with the dress but you track Bob in the mirror as he comes to stand behind you. 

“Where were you hiding this?” He asks, his voice dangerously low. 

You shrug, feeling emboldened by the effect the dress is having on Bob. “Do you like it?” 

Bob doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his hands come to rest on your hips. You feel the heat of them through the thin fabric. The breath catches in your throat as an ache pools in your stomach and sinks lower. Bob presses his body against yours and you bite your lip, hard. 

His hands brush against your sides as they travel upwards. The silk drags with them. Your breath hitches and you lean back against Bob. He hums approvingly and you lightly shift your hips to relieve the ache building between your legs. 

Still quiet, Bob’s hands come to rest cupping your breasts. Your eyelids flutter and your head drops back to rest against his shoulder as he gently squeezes. A whimper escapes your throat. 

“Look at you,” he breathes, his breath tickling your ear. “Look at what you do to me.” 

You just manage to crack open your eyes to meet Bob’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes are dark with want. The same is reflected in yours. 

Through the haze, however, one thought is crystal clear. 

“Bobby.” He groans at your whispered use of the nickname. “We’re in public.” 

Technically, the shop attendant had left the two of you alone but there was the very real possibility that she would return any moment. And as adventurous as you were, you didn’t want to get caught going at it in a dress shop of all places. None of your friends would let you live it down. 

Bob considers this as he casts a hasty glance around the room. You watch his eyes land on the curtained-off dressing room. An idea blossoms on Bob’s face and before you know it, he’s pulling you into the small space and tugging the curtain shut. 

You giggle, watching him trip over the dresses you’d rejected. Bob shoots you a smirk before pining you against the wall, his lips finding yours. Tulle tickles your cheek but you ignore it. Instead, you throw your arms around Bob’s neck and deepen the kiss. 

Bob’s calloused hands run over your thighs, setting your skin on fire. Your breath quickens as he hitches one leg, then the other, up and around his waist. Without thinking, you tighten your legs, drawing him closer to you. He groans into your lips and you smile. 

You can feel him against your core, your clothes the only thing separating the two of you. You rock your hips just to feel something. Bob pushes his hands up under the dress to grab at your hips, making the fabric ride up and pool in your lap. His fingers dig into your skin and you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow. You hum in pleasure at the thought. 

Bob pulls back from your lips and you’re about to complain when he dips his head and trails searing kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. Your head knocks painfully back against the wall, but you don’t feel it through the haze of your pleasure. Everywhere Bob’s lips press, your skin burns and you want more. You want it so badly, you’re beginning to rethink your stance on public indecency when a voice breaks through your spinning thoughts. 

“Are you doing alright in there miss?” 

Bob’s head jerks up, his expression of abject horror mirroring your own.

“Miss?” The shop attendant’s voice is closer now. 

Bob’s eyes widen, silently begging you to say something. You cough hastily, your thoughts tripping over one another. 

“Everything’s fine.” You manage to get out. 

Your voice is a little out of breath but you’re proud of how normal you sound overall. However, there are no footsteps that indicate the attendant leaving. 

“Actually,” you say, getting an idea. “I think I may need a larger size of the…” 

You trail off, fumbling with the tag of the nearest dress. 

“The Sky Lark dress, size four.” 

“I’ll be right back with that miss. Anything else?” 

“No,” you say, praying the shop attendant will leave. 

Only when you hear her receding footsteps do you dare disentangle yourself from Bob. He helps you stand on trembling legs and throws a nervous smile your way. You grin in return, relieved. 

“That was some quick thinking,” he says and you note the flush in his cheeks. 

You shrug, like making out in dressing rooms is a common thing for the two of you. “I guess it’s just my keen pilot instincts at work.” 

Bob laughs in relief as the two of you make yourselves look presentable again. After a moment of silence, he opens his mouth. 

“You’re getting the dress though.” There’s no room for argument. 

So that was how, when you finally left the dress shop hours later, it was with two drastically different dresses and a boyfriend detailing everything the two of you would be doing once you got home and back into that red dress. 

[say-al0e]

You Proof

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bob never imagined the Hard Deck would play such an important part in his life. But after meeting the love of his life there, he can’t imagine his life without it. | Ft. “Do I make you nervous?” Requested by Anon.

Warnings: Drinking, allusion to sex, that’s about it. 

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k (a short one? Who am I?)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Robert Floyd never imagined the Hard Deck would become such a large part of his life.

Bars, in general, had never been his scene. He wasn’t much of a drinker, really only indulged on special occasions - and rarely had more than a drink or two - and had never been especially fond of large crowds. Besides, before his return to Top Gun, he’d never really had a group of friends to tag along with and long ago decided that sitting at a bar alone was worse for his reputation than simply not going.

During his initial stint at Top Gun, Bob heard about the Hard Deck. It was almost impossible not to know the place by name as it seemed to be where everyone spent their weekends, a place to unwind and potentially meet someone. Still, as omnipresent as it seemed to be in the lives of his classmates, it was a place Bob never ventured himself. 

The place always seemed a little too daunting - too loud, too busy, too full of officers he’d rather not spend time with outside of work. Way back when, he just couldn’t understand the appeal.

Now, however, he found himself seated on a barstool near the pool table at least once a week.

It seemed that now, more often than not, he settled in at the beginning of the night after a text from Phoenix or Rooster beckoned him. As they drank their beers, he nursed a Coke and laughed at the latest petty argument someone seemed to be having with Hangman.

Everyone took turns around the pool table or attempting to run through every trick shot Hangman seemed capable of with darts and enjoyed a few moments of downtime in an otherwise hectic life. And each night, he sat with his friends - a group he’d never expected to belong to but now couldn’t imagine a life without - and enjoyed being a part of something larger than himself.

The friends he’d made were enough to bring him back to the Hard Deck time and time again. They were enough to have him settled on a barstool for hours as they all talked and laughed and commiserated. They were enough to make him happy, content and relaxed for the first time in a long while, and Bob really couldn’t have asked for much more.

Then, he met you.

Somewhere amongst the chaos and the khaki, amidst the beer and pool and laughter, you were thrown into his life. He’d never seen you before - he felt like Hangman even thinking it, but he was so captivated that he knew he would’ve remembered your face - and though you stood out, dressed in a soft blue sundress in a sea of uniforms, he he liked to believe he would’ve noticed you regardless.

A rowdy Friday night crowd sent you stumbling into him, quite literally, and he almost hadn’t heard your immediate apology over the beating of his own heart. If he’d thought you were pretty from afar, up close, he was certain you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

It was a miracle he’d managed to string together a coherent sentence, let alone participate in an entire conversation with you, but he’d somehow managed. He not only managed to captivate your attention long enough to learn your name, he left the Hard Deck that night with your number programmed into his phone and a promise of another meeting.

Since then, Bob rarely ventured to the Hard Deck alone.

Instead of sitting on a barstool alone, a wallflower - by choice now, no longer excluded from the conversation - he had you right by his side. You joined his laughter as Phoenix managed to outwit Hangman once more. You happily listened as Fanboy, well, fanboyed over the latest super hero film he’d seen and Bob asked questions because he knew what it was like to have no one take an interest. You joined in on conversations and never once looked put out by the amount of time you spent in a Navy bar, though he sometimes imagined you’d rather be anywhere else.

Bob spent a significant amount of time at the Hard Deck but now, so did you.

When you told him that you were planning a girls’ night with Phoenix, he figured the pair of you would venture to a nicer bar in the city. There was no shortage of fun places, ones where you weren’t likely to run into someone who only knew you as Bob’s girlfriend, but he’d been mistaken.

The Hard Deck was your top choice and he understood why.

Like Bob, you weren’t one to overindulge. Though you tended to have a drink when you visited the Hard Deck - something light he would occasionally steal a sip of - it was rarely more than one or two. However, it had been a long week for both you and Phoenix so he had an inkling the self-imposed limit would be out the door sooner rather than later.

Any other bar, you would’ve been constantly looking over your shoulder, a little too worried to truly let go. The Hard Deck felt safer - though he knew you would still remain vigilant, as would Phoenix - and gave you both a chance to enjoy yourselves a little more. The Hard Deck was your environment now, a place you felt comfortable, and he understood the need for that space as he encouraged the guys to opt for another venue.

At the beginning of the night, he promised to pick you up. No matter your argument - “I don’t want you to miss out on guys’ night! I can just get an Uber.” - he insisted, always eager to spend whatever time with you he could. You weren’t guaranteed anything and he wanted to be there, in any way he could.

And true to his word, when you called, Bob answered.

The guys were all still gathered at Maverick’s - Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, all still sipping beer and listening intently to the captain’s greatest stories, and to a few embarrassing stories about Rooster - but he’d bid them all goodnight and headed straight for you.

Bob figured he could’ve found his way through the chaos in the dark as he wandered through the Saturday night crowd. They spilled out into the parking lot, a mix of locals and officers he’d grown almost fond of, but it was familiar. He knew the place like the back of his hand and had no problem weaving through tipsy crowds in search of your usual table.

Nestled near the pool tables, sat on the barstool he usually occupied, you and Natasha were locked in what seemed to be an intense conversation. The closer he drew, the clearer your words became.

“No,” you insisted, huffing as you swirled your straw in the remnants of your drink. “I think Rooster would win in a physical fight because he’s got a lot of repressed rage. Hangman would be fine for a bit but I think he’d go down quick.” 

Bob paused just shy of your table, just out of sight, and did nothing to hide his amusement as he watched Natasha shake her head. “Rooster’s not a fighter,” she refuted, grip on her drink loose as she lifted it halfway to her mouth before thinking better of the action. “He’d start to throw a punch and then realize what he’d done. No one would win.”

“D’you really think Rooster would pass up the opportunity to hit him? I know you’re all friends now but I think he’d still take a swing.” 

While Bob no longer dreaded the sight of Hangman entering a room - they really had become friends, brothers, even - there were still moments he would easily admit he fantasized about throwing something heavy in his direction. He knew he wasn’t alone, if Natasha’s rolled eyes and nod of acknowledgement was anything to go by, and shook his head as you grinned triumphantly.

Natasha drained the rest of her drink in one sip, easily downing the rest of a brightly colored drink Bob imagined would leave her with a hangover worthy of complaint the following day, before she fixed you with a grin. “What about Bob?”

“What about Bob?” 

It didn’t take the keenest eye or the sharpest ear to notice the way you softened at her mention of him, the way you went just a little lovesick and smiled with just the utterance of his name, and Bob felt his heart beat double in his chest. While your relationship had long since evolved past the honeymoon stage, the softness - the care, the adoration - was still ever-present and he’d started to hope it would never fade.

The friends you shared, however, merely rolled their eyes. “Who’d win in a fight, Bob or Hangman?”

“Bob’s not a fighter,” you declared, immediately and without sparing a moment to think. “He’s a sweetheart.”

“You’re telling me Bob would pass up the opportunity to fight Hangman?” Natasha repeated your earlier argument, grinning when you rolled your eyes, and Bob nearly laughed as you slid your drink to the center of the table and rested your chin in your hand.

“No. I think if Hangman pissed him off enough and Robbie had a bad enough day, he’d go for it. But it’s not in his nature.” You nodded, satisfied with your own answer, before you hummed. A thoughtful frown scrunched your brows and Bob lifted a hand to hide his smile as you amended, “He’s stronger than he looks, though. He could win, if he wanted.”

The declaration was confident, certain, and Bob felt a small glimmer of something - pride, maybe - burn bright in his chest. There were moments that he doubted himself, moments he wondered what he’d done to deserve you, but you were consistently his biggest fan. There was never a moment you allowed him to doubt for long, always eager to build him up, and he appreciated the ego boost more than you knew.

“Not that I want to know,” Natasha began, “but is he always sweet?”

Natasha’s question saw Bob moving once more, hurrying through the crowd to approach your table. While you were just as happy to keep your relationship relatively quiet as he was, the difference between sobriety and a few drinks - the difference between a conversation with everyone and a conversation with just Natasha - meant that you would happily spill everything.

“Not always,” you answered with a mischievous grin. “There was this one time, right after he got back from that last deployment -“

Before you could continue, words that would certainly change the way Natasha looked at him on the tip of your tongue, Bob approached the table. “Hi, sweetheart.” It was a little too loud, a little too abrupt, and he was certain you could both see the scarlet flush creeping up his neck but neither of you mentioned it.

Natasha smirked at the sight of him so clearly flustered - at both the memory and the potential revelation - while you brightened to an almost blinding grin at the sight of him.

“Robbie,” you cheered, reaching out to pull him close. “I missed you!”

Less than five hours had passed since you last saw one another - he’d dropped you off before heading to Maverick’s - but he had no desire to remind you of that. Instead, he nodded and looped his arm around your shoulders to keep you both steady as yours fell to his waist. “Missed you, too,” he assured you, grinning sheepishly as he met Natasha’s gaze. “Hi, Nat.”

“Hiya, Robbie.” He rolled his eyes at her playful taunt, used to the teasing nickname every time you were around - or even mentioned. “Your girlfriend was just telling me how you’re not always a total sweetheart,” she continued, grinning when he winced. “You interrupted what was bound to be a fantastic story.”

“Mm, it is!” Your eager nod made him laugh as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Before he could encourage a change in topic, however, you urged, “Have a drink with us so I can finish!”

“Who’s gonna get us home, then?” The question was soft, fond, and he resisted the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to your forehead as you frowned.

“Uber.” You spoke as if that was the most obvious answer - he almost expected a ‘duh’ tacked on at the end, just for effect - but you simply fixed him with a frown.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” he soothed, fighting the urge to coo as you deflated. As you huffed, disappointed in his refusal, he turned to Natasha. “Want us to take you home, Nat?”

“Nah, my ride’s here.” Bob turned just in time to catch sight of Natasha’s girlfriend, a woman he’d come to know well as the four of you went out together often, throw her hand up in a quick wave. “G’night, Robbie,” she cooed, grinning as she pinched his cheek and earned herself a fond roll of his eyes. “G’night, babe!” She stood from the table and caught you in a quick hug, squeezing just a little tighter than normal, before heading to meet her girlfriend.

Bob shook his head, entirely amused, before turning his full attention to you. His eyes met yours, already trained on his face, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realized what you wanted. Though PDA wasn’t much - or often - he had no qualms about leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

It was late enough that no one paid either of you any mind, everyone either too far gone to notice anyone outside of their group or on the way out themselves, and you grinned happily when he pulled away. “Take me home, please,” you requested, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes.

With a smile of his own, Bob helped you from your stool - steadied your on your feet as you nearly stumbled with your first step - and held his laughter as you smiled sheepishly. “C’mon,” he encouraged, careful to keep an arm around you as he guided you toward the bar, “let’s settle up so we can get home.”

As you stood, waiting for a bartender to close out your tab, Bob’s fingers tapped against your side. As he did so, you felt compelled to ask, “Do I make you nervous, Robbie?”

Bright eyes, just a touch glassy and beginning to grow heavy-lidded, met his as he glanced at you. “Not anymore, sweetheart.” It was honest, as he always tried to be with you, and earned him a soft coo as you tipped your head. But he couldn’t help wondering, “Why d’you ask?”

“But I did?” When he nodded, barely able to contain soft laughter, you frowned. “Nat said I did. Why? I’m not scary,” you insisted, 

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, smile softening as he reclaimed your card and began guiding you toward the door. “But you were at first.” As you stepped out of the Hard Deck and into the cool night air, Bob spared you a glance and nearly melted at the sight of you waiting patiently for him to continue. “I thought you were gorgeous,” he complimented, “completely out of my league. I figured you would go for someone like Rooster or Hangman. But then you kept talking to me and I had no idea why but I’m glad you did.”

“You know what’s funny?”

Bob hummed, curious, as he helped you into the front seat. “What’s that?” You waited, patient and quiet, for him to round the car and settle into the driver’s seat before you smiled at him.

“You made me nervous, too.”

That was enough to make him pause, hand on the gearshift, as he frowned. The entire time you’d spent getting to know one another, you’d never seemed even remotely nervous. Even as he fumbled his words and felt as if his entire body would remain permanently flushed in your presence, you looked completely at ease. “I did?”

“Mm.”  It was matter of fact, a certain nod before leaning your head against the window and sighing at the cool glass against your heated skin. “I thought you were pretty, too,” you confessed, smile a little shy as Bob’s gaze softened. “And you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk to me. Know now it’s cause you were shy but I was nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

“I liked you right away.” Bob felt his entire body soften as you reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his, and he took the opportunity to lift your hands and press a soft kiss to the back of yours as he stopped at a light. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” he admitted, voice quiet in the silence of the car, “but you did.”

“I always will. You’re kinda perfect, Robbie.”

Bob knew that he wasn’t perfect - he wasn’t even close - but with you smiling at him like that, eyes bright and so sincere, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be. Regardless of the future you embarked upon, whatever awaited you both down the line, Bob was determined to spend the rest of his life making you happy, however he could.

And as he drove you home, your hand tangled in his even as you began to nod off, he wondered if Penny had ever hosted a wedding reception - or, at the very least, an engagement party - at the Hard Deck. While Bob never imagined the Hard Deck becoming such a massive part of his life, he now found himself thankful for every moment he’d been able to spend there as it all lead him straight to you.

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Slowly but surely chipping away at writer’s block. Hangman is likely next. I need to write something that’s not smut and not sad for him. Anyway, I’m knocking out requests so fingers crossed I stay on a roll. Perk of my life falling apart? My writing returns!

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​

[beatendeadcourier]

i wanna sleep on bobs stomach like mei did in totoro....

[he's definitely not tryna suffocate u in his sweater.

Honest <3]

-

[momentaryescape]

Dad Bob Floyd

a/n- HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! I know its almost over, but college and work are a pain in the ass...hopefully I am able to post more this year, but I don't want to make any promises. Anyway me and my amazing friend @rewrittenreality here texting like a month ago about if the tgm dagger squad boys became dads, this is the result of that. I hope y'all enjoy.

Bob was over the moon when he found out you found out you were pregnant. He would surprise you with flowers and a gift for your baby. When he found out that you would be having a girl we went into full girl-dad mode. He found matching outfits for the three of you to all match with once the baby was born. 

The day your baby was born Bob couldn't stop smiling. The first time he held her, he looked like his life was complete. You walked in more times than you can count to him just staring at your daughter with all the love he had.

As she got older he learned how to do her hair in various styles, and would dress her so they could twin. When her favorite movie was the little mermaid he started calling her “Flounder” and it stuck. The dagger squad started calling her that too, leading to her being the first baby dagger squad member to get a callsign. 

On her first day of school Bob woke up extra early to make her her favorite breakfast, and get her a small bouquet. And when it was time to drop her off you could swear that Bob cried more than her. 

He would talk to your belly just like he did in your first pregnancy, which you swear is why she is a  daddy's girls. But you didn’t mind, you loved your husband any your daughter more than anything else.

When you found out you were pregnant, and that it was another girl, you couldn't wait for Bob to find out. He was on deployment when you learned of the second Floyd baby. When he got home he looked confused at your daughter's shirt. It read “big sister”. When it clicked he looked back and forth between her shirt and you before pulling you into a tight hug. When you told him it was another little girl he told you he was excited to be a girl dad again. So the matching outfits were updated to include another baby. And just like before, when your younger daughter’s favorite movie was Zootopia, he started calling her “Bunny”.

Bob was meant to be a girl dad. He made sure to raise them with all the love possible. He told you everyday that you were the best thing to happen to him, and that you made him the happiest man in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

[lenore-spirit-808]

Hi guys! I just wanted to announce that I create a Tik Tok profile, this is the only video I published yet but I might in a future post more, who knows? But if you are all interested heres the link of the video where you can find my account (+13 Only so DNI -13)

Edit: AAAAAAAAAAAH 101 NOTES?!?!?! TYSM YALL 😭😭😭

[oreocheezecake]

Some cute short comic I made of Bob and Y/n making burgers together bc why not <3

So cute (❁´◡`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[witloph]

@enderpearlll I hope you enjoy this art piece I did of your amazing story series My Favorite Employee!! I love your work so much man... You're slowly turning me into a Rick simp as well. 😳

[princessphilly]

Title: Good Girls Do

CW: smut smut smut! Dom!Bob, thigh riding, biting, spanking, choking, cum play. Typed on phone, I apologize for all errors

Tagging: @newlibrary @grey--scale--girl @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @ahockeywrites @lorecraft @writercole @mayhem24-7forever

“Are you going to be my good girl?”

You tried to nod with Bob’s hand on your throat. You just had your sports bra on, the rest of your workout clothes somewhere around the floor. Gliding on Bob’s thigh, you managed to say, “Yes.”

It was a quick smile, a very pleased look on Bob’s face before he slid his thumb into your mouth. You sucked it, eyes drifting closed.

**

“Thanks for taking one for the team.”

You simply nodded. Your friends were talking about their experiences with the rest of the guys while you had hooked up with Bob. Everyone had a great time but they assumed that your night had sucked.

Well, it had kind of sucked, especially when you sucked Bob’s cock and he came on your face. Then he fed his cum to you with his fingers, taking it off your face and placing it in your mouth.

And you swallowed every bit like a bitch in heat.

The conversation turned to other things but your phone started to vibrate. It was a message from Bob, just a picture of a pair of nipple clamps. You felt your pussy get wet as you sent him back a yes, a smiley face, and a devil face.

**

Your movements were now desperate, as you needed to cum. Bob’s thighs were muscular and hard and he was juggling his thigh under your cunt, helping you get closer to your high.

“I love how you look, baby girl, the way you bite you lip. Are you going to cum for me?”

Bob’s eyes were expectant but when you didn’t answer fast enough, he spanked your thighs. You yelled, the pain making the pleasure even greater. “I’m close,” you whispered. You weren’t a screamer when you came but you were a gusher.

Bob stopped, holding you still. Your eyes flew open as you looked at him questioningly. Your Bob tsked, “You didn’t ask for permission, baby girl.”

“Please, may I cum,” you begged as you slowly began to grind on Bob’s thigh again. You weren’t as close as before but you could get there quickly.

There was a kiss up your neck, by your ear. Then a whispered, “You can,” before a bite on your shoulder. And you came apart, your slick covering Bob’s thigh, his teeth marking you as his own.

[cringiestcroissant]

Y/N trying to flirt with Bob while Bob is going to eat Y/N

it's super effective!

[bradshawswife]

nicknames | b.f

(sorry ik thats technically rhett but he looked so good i couldn’t help it, just imagine southern bob)

description: here’s a cute (and smutty) headcannon i was just thinking about.

pairing: bob floyd x y/n

warning: mentions of sex, minors DNI, bob is adorable.

• You love calling Bob by cheesy nicknames.

• It all started out one evening during a movie marathon with you resting on Bobs chest on the couch.

• You were speeding through a bunch of romance movies.

• You asked Bob to get you a snack from the kitchen when he got up to use the washroom, but instead of calling him Bob you said Bobby.

• He looked at you like you had 3 heads and begged you say it again.

• He liked the way Bobby sounded coming from your lips.

• That inevitably started the trend of nicknames you’d eventually come up with in the months you were together.

• Some of his favourites were Bobby, Bobert, Boob, Bobkins, Bobbaroni, Bob the Builder (after he fixed your kitchen table)

• As much as he loved hearing your nicknames for him, he also indulged in some nicknames for you.

• *Cue whatever nicknames relate to your name*

• At work he was just Bob, but at home? He was all these funny nicknames and it made him happy that he’s able to have this other side of him.

• His favourite name in bed would be Bobby.

• Besides his rank kink , you moaning Bobby is the best.

• You accidentally let one of the nicknames slip while at the Hard Deck one night.

• “Bobert come here” you said, 3 drinks in. Everyone looked at you, then at Bob and started laughing. Eliciting red cheeks from Bob, and giggles from you.

• “Sorry boob” you laughed, now just embarrassing him even more.

• Once you sobered up, Bob gave you hell of a punishment for embarrassing him like that.

• “Are you going to use your little nicknames in front of my friends again?” he grunts, slamming into you.

• “No, sir” you squeal. After been denied 2 orgasms, you were on your breaking point.

taglist!

@thesewordsareallihavetogive <3

@vintageobx <3

@luckyladycreator2 <3

@blessupblessup <3

@sadpetalsstuff <3

[honeybeedewdrops]

Matching | B.Floyd

Summary: Bob and you have matching Tattoo's

Warning: Cursing, mention of sex's

A/N: Happy Valentines Day! Also trust me we all know Bob is a freak in the sheets.

______________________________________________________________

On hot days when bob had off you two would usually just stay in and it would be just the two of you, but his Co workers/friends wanted to have a beach day so here you were in the car headed for the beach.

You never really talked to the guys only Phoenix so when you got the beach the guys went off to play some football as the guys girlfriends all tanned. "Y/N" Phoenix said as you walked up to the girls "Hey ya'll" you say laying out your towel and taking your robe off "How you--" Phoenix starts before spotting it "Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N is that a tattoo" you look at your ass before smiling "Oh yeah I got it a while back and Bob has my name" "You got Bob's name Tattooed on your Ass?" You laugh "yeah why not besides you can barley tell" "wait back up when did you get this?" you think for a moment "uh i'd say a month ago a few days after our anniversary" "How'd you convince Bob, sweet innocent Bob to get a tattoo" you snort "You guys Bob's not that innocent. He's amazing in bed a bit kinky but I like Kinky keeps me on my toes" "ugh Y/n" Phoenix says "what? it's true" "so where'd bob get his" "just on his shoulder" "man now I gotta see this" you smirk "maybe later" and you lay on your stomach and close your eyes to tan your back.

Soon the guys were done and joined you guys on the beach. "hey honey" you say kissing Bob. "hey" "so Bob tell us about this tattoo" Phoenix said "Bob has a tattoo? yeah i'll believe when I see it" Hangman said. You flash Bob a smirk "let's show em" Bob looks reluctant before you gave him your puppy dog eyes and he takes off his shirt making everyone whistle and cheer. "Does that say Y/N?" Rooster asks "yep and we got matching ones" you say. "where's yours" you smirk "my ass" the guys were shocked "How'd you do it?" Fanboy asks "Do what?" you ask confused "convince Bob to get a tattoo" you scuff "man you guys really think that Bob here is a sweet innocent boy. It was his Idea" Everyone looks at Bob who's a bit pink in the face "It's true" "dang who knew Bob had some balls" You roll your eyes "Bob has bigger balls than you Hangman" "oh really?" Hangman said trying to push your buttons he always did this tease you and Bob.

You turn to Bob and smash your lips to his taking him by surprise, but was kissing back in an instant. Soon you and Bob were having a full on make out session. "get a room" you both pull apart "Oh I think we will, bye guys were leaving" you say grabbing Bob's arm and heading home.

"I can't believe you did that" Bob said when you two were in the car. "oh come on Bob sometimes you gotta show them that you're not innocent at all."

[wild-lavender-rose]

Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader misquote #1

Bob: You’re such a good cook.

You: I’m making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

Phoenix: *making static noises* Abort the mission, repeat, abort the mission. 

Bob: Uh, yeah, but the way you spread the jelly on so evenly, it’s just, umm-

Hangman: *more static noises* Engines on fire, going down.

Phoenix: Abort, abort, abort!

You: You’re terrible at flirting.

Bob:

Bob: Yes I am.

Hangman: Going into G-lock!

You: Do you want to go out?

Bob:

Bob: Yes I would. 

Hangman:

Phoenix: 

Phoenix: Huh...Quickest recovery from G-lock I’ve ever seen. 

Hangman: Beginner’s luck. 

Fanfic Masterlist

Tagging @callsignbob for this because it made me think of you <3

[beatendeadcourier]

Locking bob up in a cage for his c r i m e s,but I'll let him go if he hugs/kisses me/j