#lewis pullman drabble

[cowboybeepboop]

Sweetness

"I care about you, more than I probably should."

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: You finally find out the real reason behind Bob’s protective side. 

a/n: I saw Thunderbolts* yesterday, and I’m craving more of Lewis Pullman 😛😩

This team gets on your nerves, whether it’s Hangman’s cocky asshole attitude or Roosters constant issues with Mav. Somehow you’re always getting in the middle of something and you’re tired of these damn pushups. 

Bob is your weapons systems officer. He’s sweet and nothing but kind when it comes to you. It’s frustrating, though, because you know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but you don’t need him to stick up for you. 

It feels like he pities you, he challenges hangman when he says asshole things, he defends your choices when Mav questions you. He just doesn’t understand that you can speak for yourself. 

These dog-fights with Maverick have almost been the death of you. Maybe you’re an overachiever, but you’ve never needed to keep redoing and redoing exercises. It’s never been an issue for you to work in a team, but Hangman refuses to. 

“Fuck!” you slam your hand against the dash of the plane, tears building in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you sigh away the anger, letting your head fall back against the seat. Bob tenses in the seat behind you as you land the plane. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” his voice rings out, bringing you back into reality. 

“Yep. Let’s just get this over with.” Your tone is more firm than usual, irritation filling your veins as you exit the vehicle. 

Hangman begins spewing his usual bullshit, cockiness radiating off him even though you just lost. Bob argues with Hangman in the background as you ignore them, getting ready to get those damn pushups out of the way.

The only thing you need right now is an ice-cold shower and whiskey on the rocks. You’re pulling your uniform off your shoulders while walking toward the bar, Bob is hot on your heels, along with Rooster and FanBoy. 

“How’s it goin’?” Bradley wraps an arm around your shoulder, the familiarity of his touch doing little to ease your annoyance. You shift out of his embrace, not wanting to talk to anyone. 

Bob and Rooster make eye contact, shrugging as they notice your strange mood. “You got this one, Bob?” he nods in response, following after you once again. 

“Y/N?” he settles down next to you at the bar, shifting his weight as you stare down at the counter. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You ignore him, taking down your drink in one gulp. 

“I’m alright, Bob, just.. Annoyed.” you sigh, glancing at him slightly. He nods in response, fingers fumbling with his beer bottle. 

“Did-” he begins before you cut him off.

“We were so close, Bob!” your tone is laced with irritation, “We almost got him and then you got, distracted.” You roll your eyes, sliding the glass to the side. 

“I know.. I know and I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have needed to do all those pushups because of my-” you glare at him, everything he does just annoys you, he’s so nice even when you don’t deserve it. 

“Why do you take the blame for every little thing?” Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you’re hot, irritated, and red hot. “Leave it alone, Bob.” You storm out, admittedly a little childish, but you need the fresh air. 

Sitting down on the porch, you breathe in the scent of sea water, the wood creaks under a pair of boots next to you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to do anything to frustrate you.” his tone is the same soft and gentle one per usual. “If I can do anything, say anything, get you anything, please just let me know. I wanna help, we’re a pair, Y/N,” he says, settling down next to you cautiously. 

“Bob, you’re annoying me.” You groan, hating the butterflies in your stomach, and his heart drops as he straightens up. Your words sting him a little more than intended, and you see it in his demeanor. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that..” you trail off chewing on your lip while watching him fumble with his hands.” I didn’t mean to, you dont deserve that, it’s just frustrating to have you constantly siding with me, being so nice, and sticking up for me.” you groan.

“I know you mean well, but I can fight my own battles Bob.” you sigh, shifting uncomfortably as you look him over. 

Bob looks down at his hands, the sound of his fingers cracking fills the air as he processes your words. He hates your irritation being directed at him, but he knows you’re right. He’s been a little overprotective lately, and you’re feeling chafed by his kindness. It’s not what he wanted.

“It’s just…” Bob pauses, his mind struggling to find the right words. “It’s not about thinking you can’t fight your own battles. I mean, I know you can.” Bob leans back, resting his head against a pole.

“I know we’re a team, but we haven’t worked together like this before, not on a mission this important.” you sigh, resting your face in your hands. "I just wish you wouldn't make me look so weak in front of everyone, just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I need pity, Bob." You shut your eyes, taking steadying breaths.

Bob's eyes widen slightly, finally being able to grasp what is going on. He's been treating you like you're fragile, and you're getting fed up. It hits him like a truck, and the guilt instantly seeps into his bones.

"I know... I know, you're strong," he says, the shame evident in his voice. "I don't think you're weak, and I *don't* pity you." Bob's fingers twist together, frustration with himself bubbling up within him.

Bob rubs his face, he’s always had a crush on you, ever since he laid eyes on you. For Bob, you’re not just a talented pilot and a teammate, you’re smart, strong-willed, independent, and absolutely gorgeous.

His protective nature stems from the fact that he cares about you, a little more than he should. He’s scared of losing you, of getting you hurt, and it shows in his overprotectiveness and constant apologizing.

“I’m sorry, Bob, I shouldn’t have held this against you. Hangman is the one who left us to fend for our own. It’s not your fault.” You lean closer to him, brushing your shoulder against his. 

Bob's shoulders tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden apology. Your touch, even as simple as your shoulder against his, has his heart beating faster. He relaxes a little, feeling relieved that you're not as irritated with him anymore.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice soft as he relaxes his tense shoulders, he takes a deep breath. "But I still want to apologize for being so overprotective."

“I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so protective when it comes to *me*,” you scan his face, eyes wandering his features. “I know we’re friends outside of work, but.. I just don’t get it.”

Bob's heart leaps into his throat, his mind racing with nerves. This is the moment, the one he’s been scared of for the past few months. He’s always liked you, but he’s kept it to himself because of his shy nature, and he was afraid of ruining your friendship.

He takes a shaky breath, his fingers trembling as he fidgets with them."I…uhh"  Bob struggles to find the right words, the truth on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah?" you question, scooting closer to him, basking in the gentle heat of his body.

Bob's heart pounds in his chest, his cheeks heating up from your close proximity. He can smell your perfume, and the closeness makes his knees weak.

"I… I care about you a lot," he manages, his voice shaky, eyes refusing to meet yours. Bob's hands twitch with the nervous energy that courses through him, his fingers clenching into fists and unclenching rhythmically.

"A lot?" Your cheeks turn a slight pink. "In what way, Bob?" 

Bob's words get stuck in his throat, his breath hitches as he looks up at you, your eyes burning into his soul. He swallows hard, unable to hold your gaze, but at the same time craving it. 

"In every way imaginable," he breathes out, his heart pounding against his ribcage, "I care about you, more than I probably should." This is it, all or nothing, he can't back out now.

You take in a shaky breath, eyes focusing on everything but him as his words echo in your mind.

Bob watches your face, his heart in his throat as he waits for your response. The silence between you both is loud, making him almost sick to his stomach as he waits for your reaction. He’s so desperate to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, but your expression is unreadable.

"Please say something," he mutters softly, his hand twitching to reach out and touch you, but his fear stops him.

You clear your throat, standing up and stretching, and your heart is racing in your chest. Being with Bob, it's what you want, but what if it changes things or makes both of you unable to go on the mission? Your mind is reeling, and you begin to pace. 

Bob follows your movements with his gaze, your nervous behavior making his heart ache. He knows he messed up, he should have kept his stupid feelings to himself. Now he's just made everything awkward.

With you moving around so much, unable to sit still, he stands up as well, worry etched across his face. "Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't-" his voice is trembling as he tries to apologize, but you simply start pacing.

You shake your head, "You don't need to apologize, Bob." Turning back to him, you take a few steps until you're right in front of him again. 

Bob stands still, his heart practically beating out of his chest, as you walk closer to him. Your proximity takes his breath away, and he can’t tear his eyes off your face. All he can focus on is your every move, the way your lips are slightly parted, and how your cheeks are tinged pink.

He has to fight the urge to pull you into his arms and hold you close, but the nervousness in his veins keeps him rooted to the spot. "Y/N..” he breathes out, his voice low and unsteady.

"Bob," you whisper, "Please.." Your words, your simple plea, are all it takes for Bob to snap. His brain short-circuits as every thought about consequences and missions leaves his mind, replaced with one sole desire. *You.*

In the blink of an eye, his hands find your waist, and in another, he's pulling you flush against him. His lips crash into yours with a desperate need, as every pent-up feeling, every piece of suppressed desire is unleashed.

Your hands reach up to his face, gripping his face as you pull him closer, desperate for more. 

Bob is completely lost in the moment, his hands exploring your waist, your back, your face, trying to touch every inch of you. Your touch ignites something within him, and his kiss deepens as he presses his body against yours.

He pushes you backward until your back hits a wall, his hands gripping your hips as he cages you against the surface, his kiss still feverish, hungry, desperate.

You pull away reluctantly, gasping in a few breaths before speaking. "Bob, we need to go.. I *need* you," you whisper, kissing his face and neck. Bob lets out a soft groan at your words, the feeling of your kisses sending tremors through him, the need in your voice making his knees weak. 

"Go... where?" he breathes out, his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you closer, afraid that if he lets go of you, you'll disappear. He wants you badly, the mission forgotten in a haze of desire.

"I have a place," you practically moan, enjoying the desperation in his touch. All coherent thoughts leave Bob's mind as your moan is like music to his ears. He practically whimpers against your touch, the need for you nearly overwhelming.

"Lead the way," he mutters, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your neck before reluctantly releasing his grip. Even though he's letting go of you, his hand takes yours, unwilling to lose physical contact.

With your hand in his, Bob follows you to the secluded spot you've chosen, his heart racing in anticipation. The gentle squeeze of your hand reassures him that this is what you want, too. Once you're both inside, the door clicks shut, and the tension in the room thickens. 

You turn to face him, the hunger in your eyes matching his own. His hands trace the curve of your waist, pulling you closer as your mouths find each other again in a passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless. 

With no more words needed, you both stumble over to the bed, the need for each other overwhelming. Bob gently lays you down, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to unbutton your shirt. His touch is reverent, his every move filled with a passion that has been building for so long. 

You help him, pulling his shirt off over his head, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against yours. As the fabric of your clothes falls away, Bob’s eyes roam over your bare skin, tracing every curve and dip with a hunger that’s been building. 

His hands rough yet gentle, his kisses leaving a trail of fire down your neck as he unclasps your bra. The coolness of the air meets your heated skin, sending shivers down your spine. He worships your body, his hands exploring every inch with a passion that leaves you trembling with anticipation. 

The feel of his bare chest against yours is electric, his skin smooth and warm as he kisses his way down to your stomach. You gasp as his fingers find their way under the band of your pants, unbuttoning them with trembling hands. The touch of his skin against yours sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch into his touch. 

His eyes meet yours, questioning, and when you nod, he pulls your pants down, exposing you to his hungry gaze. His eyes widen with awe, his breath hitching as he takes in the sight of you, fully exposed and desiring him. 

His thumb brushes against your inner thigh, sending a rush of heat to your core, making you whimper. His touch is soft yet demanding as he explores you, his eyes never leaving yours, drinking in every reaction you give him. 

You're both lost in the moment, the only sound in the room being the ragged breaths and soft moans that escape your lips. Bob leans in, his mouth replacing his fingers, and your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure. 

His name becomes a chant on your lips as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your legs wrapping around his head as you pull him deeper into your warmth. The intensity of the moment reaches its peak as Bob's tongue meets your center, his strokes firm and precise. 

You moan deeply, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the pleasure builds. He's relentless, his every move calculated to push you closer to the edge. His hands are everywhere, caressing your breasts, teasing your nipples until they're peaked and sensitive. 

The sound of your breathy pleas and the wetness of your desire driving him wild. He can't get enough of you, can't get close enough. You're soaking wet for him, and the scent of your arousal fills the air, making him crave you even more. His mouth is a masterpiece of pleasure, teasing and sucking, swirling and flicking, until you're panting his name and your body is tightening around his tongue. 

You're close, so close, and just when you think you can't handle it anymore, he slides a finger inside you, the pressure inside you building until it snaps. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. 

You scream out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

Bob pulls away, his face flushed and his eyes dark with lust, as he watches the aftershocks of your climax ripple through your body. He quickly removes his pants, his cock standing at full attention. The sight of him sends a fresh wave of heat through you, making you ache for him. 

He positions himself over you, and with one swift thrust, he's inside, filling you completely. Your legs wrap around him as he begins to move, his hips pumping in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. 

The feeling is indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pain, of need and satisfaction, as he stretches and fills you over and over again. Your eyes lock onto his, and it's as if you're seeing him for the first time, really seeing the depth of his feelings for you, the desire and love that he's been hiding.

The friction is perfect, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with every movement. You rock your hips up to meet his, desperate to get even closer. His hands are everywhere, holding you down, caressing you, making sure you feel every inch of him. 

Your bodies move in a dance that's been choreographed by months of tension and unspoken desires. Each stroke is a promise, each touch a declaration of his feelings.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another deep kiss, your tongues tangling as your bodies move together in perfect sync. The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room, mixing with the desperate moans and gasps that escape both of your mouths. Bob's pace quickens, driven by the passion that fuels him, and you can feel him getting closer to his release.

You're so lost in the sensation that you don't even notice when the second orgasm starts to build, creeping up on you like a thief in the night. It takes you by surprise, stealing your breath away as it crashes over you, making your body tighten around him. Bob groans into your mouth, his release following closely behind, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his warmth.

You collapse onto the bed, your bodies still entwined, hearts racing, and skin slick with sweat. The room is silent except for the sound of your panting breaths, both of you trying to come down from the high of finally giving in to the passion that's been burning between you. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, grounding, as you bask in the afterglow of your shared ecstasy.

Bob pulls out gently, collapsing beside you, and you roll over to face him, your eyes searching his for any signs of regret. But all you see is love and satisfaction, mirroring your own emotions. You reach out, brushing the hair out of his eyes, and he smiles at you, the tension of the day forgotten as you both drift into a contented silence, the kind that comes from knowing you've found something real in a world full of danger and uncertainty.

Bob's mind is spinning as he shifts to lie there next to you, completely stunned by the intensity of what just happened. His fingers gently trace patterns on your skin, a soft smile playing on his lips as he takes in the blissful expression on your face. Every nerve ending in his body is buzzing, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through him.

"That was..." he finally manages to breathe out, his voice thick with emotion, "That was amazing." Bob's heart still races, his head reeling from the intensity of the connection between you both.

You nod breathlessly, resting your face on his chest, cuddling close against him.

[keerysgirl]

needy! bob reynolds x touchy! reader (req by anon)

there were many things that could be said about bob reynolds in regards to his relationship with you.

the first thing being that he loves you more than he's ever loved anyone in his life. you're just so perfect - you're caring, compssionate, funny, kind, you won't hesitate to drop everything when he's having a bad day, you're a great listener (and damn, do you have a nice ass).

the second thing is that he loves how touchy you are. you're always all over him, aways holding his hand or climbing into his lap or sleeping on his chest. you always need to have physical contact with him, and he loves that.

the third thing is that he gets really horny. really quick. and with you constantly touching him anywhere and everywhere, well, it doesn't exactly help his 'problem.'

and you're just so oblivious with it too. you just want to cuddle with your boyfriend, and poor bob is over here popping a semi cause you're just so fucking cute.

and yeah, okay, maybe it's his fault for being insanely needy but can you blame him? you're hot as fuck, and whenever you give him even the softest of kisses, he can't help but imagine you underneath him, making those pretty noises of yours.

even when you're not touching him, it's still bad. if he even smells your perfume or sees you in a low cut top, it's over for him. he's getting all hot and bothered, wanting desperately to ravage you right then and there.

and he feels bad, he really does - he doesn't want you to think he's some perv or something (not like you'd really care, you loves and horny and feral he can get). he just needs you so bad.

he's sorry, baby - he just loves you so much.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

All of you

A/N: This is smut so mdni please. Bob takes readers virginity. The reader is called a variety of pet names like honey, baby, and princess. Bucky's version will be out tomorrow!

You had told him once–awkwardly, cheeks flushed. You said it in the quiet way someone drops something delicate into open hands—that you'd never done this before. Not in a “saving it” way. Not for any big reason. Just… you never met someone. Until now. And now, you wanted to. With him. Bob had kissed you then, slow and understanding, hands cradling your jaw like you were something precious. “Whenever you’re ready,” he’d said. “And only if you want to.”

That conversation was two weeks ago and tonight, with his hands smoothing over your back, his eyes searching yours in the low amber light of his bedroom—you wanted to.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, voice low and steady, every syllable wrapped in patience. You nodded, biting your lip. “I want it to be with you.” Bob smiled, not the playful smirk you knew so well, but something softer, loving.

“You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “All of me. Just say stop if anything feels wrong, yeah?” You nodded and kissed him instead of responding verbally.

He took his time, like he always did—like every brush of skin and every look meant something. Because with Bob, it always did. Your shirt was the first thing to go, his warm hands tracing every inch of new skin like he was trying to memorize it. He looked at you like you were art. Like he couldn’t believe you were choosing him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, watching you blush and shift beneath his gaze. “Do you know that?” You shook your head, biting your bottom lip gently. He kissed your neck, then your shoulder, and then he moved lower. “Then Imma keep reminding you,” he spoke against your skin like he was taking a vow.

When you were finally bare beneath him, vulnerable and shaking just a little, he paused—lips brushing yours, one hand pressed to your cheek.

“We can stop right now,” he said. “No pressure. I’m okay with just hold you just like this.” But you kissed him again, deeper this time. "Please, Bob. I want you." He nodded softly and kissed the skin he could reach.

“You still okay baby?” he asked, voice quiet. You were beneath him now, your legs spread and trembling, your body buzzing with nerves and need. His fingers had already coaxed you open, gentle and deliberate. You were flushed and soaked and aching. You nodded, eyes wide, heart in your throat. “Yeah. Just…nervous.” Bob leaned down and kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Your lips. He lingered there, soft and sure. “You’re allowed to be nervous. We’ll go slow. We don’t have to do anything that doesn’t feel right.”

“I trust you,” you whispered. His breath caught, just a little. Then he reached for the condoms he’d placed on the nightstand. “Okay, baby. I got you. Let me take care of you.” He rolled it on, and even that—watching him, hard and flushed and careful—made your stomach flip. “Deep breath for me baby,” he murmured, settling between your thighs again. One of his hands intertwined with yours, the other guiding himself. His tip brushed your entrance, hot and slick.

The stretch burned a little. You winced—and instantly, Bob froze. “You okay?” he asked. Concern clouded his expression. “Too much?”

“No, no,” you panted. “Just… different. But I’m okay. You can keep going.”

You might've been okay physically, but you were so nervous. He could see it in your eyes. Bob dipped his head, lips brushing your ear. “I’ll go slow. Just the tip first. If it’s too much, I’ll stop. You squeeze my hand, okay?” You nodded, unable to find your words. And then he pushed in—just an inch. Stretching you, slow and steady, burning but not unbearable. You gasped. Your grip tightened on his hand.

“Breathe,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re doing so good for me honey. Just let me in a little more.” He moved gently, easing forward. You could feel every ridge of him, every inch of him as he filled you, his free hand rubbing soothing circles along your thigh. When he was fully inside, you were panting—overwhelmed, full, and blinking back tears.

“Jesus,” he groaned, clenching his jaw to focus on staying still. “You feel incredible. So warm. So fucking perfect. Oh my god.” You weren’t sure if it was the stretch or the way he said it, but something in you cracked open. You moaned softly, hips tilting. “There we go,” he praised, kissing your jaw. “Look at you. Taking me so well princess.”

He rocked into you, just a little. A slow roll of his hips. It hurt less now—just pressure, just a stretch. The sting was starting to become more of a heat, more of pure desire.

He moved again. Another gentle thrust. His lips dragged down your neck. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Got you like this. Wrapped around me. So fucking good for me.” A whimper slipped from your throat. You were gasping now—wanting more, and not sure how to ask for it. But Bob knew. He always knew what you wanted...what you needed. “Want it deeper?” he asked, voice hoarse. You nodded desperately and moaned the only word you could think of. “Please.”

His hips rolled again, this time firmer, and you felt it. The drag. The stretch. The thick push of him sliding against places you didn’t know could be so sensitive. “Oh my god,” you gasped before moaning louder than before. “That’s it,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Taking all of me. You’re doing so good, taking me so well–so deep.” Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. You clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world. His hands wrapped around your thighs, leaving fingerprint bruises on the soft flesh from how tight he was holding them. And he held you back. Fucked you slow, deep, careful—but deliberate. Like he wanted to imprint the feeling of you in his bones.

You were trembling when you came. Clenching around him, nails digging into his back, breath caught in your throat as pleasure washed over you. Bob kissed you through it, whispering praise, fucking you through the aftershocks until he finally gasped, burying himself deep with a low, “Fuck—baby—” as he came too.

He didn’t pull out right away. He just held you, still deep inside you, stroking your hair and murmuring against your skin.

“Can you talk?” he asked softly. You nodded, eyes fluttering open. “M’still here.” Bob smiled and muttered “Good”, against your forehead. “You did so good. I’m so proud of you, you know that?.” Your body was trembling a little, but not from fear. It was the overstimulation. The exhaustion and emotions flowing through your bones.

He slipped out of you slowly, murmuring an apology when you winced at the ache. Then he rolled to the side, reaching for tissues and gently cleaning between your thighs. “I know it’s messy. But I’ll run us a bath in a minute, okay?” You didn’t answer. You just pulled him down to you before you buried your face in his chest. His arms came around you instantly. “You okay?” You nodded into his skin. “I think I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

His throat worked around a quiet sound—almost a laugh, almost a sob. “You’ve got all of me,” he whispered. “You always have.”

Bob eventually did get you in that bath. He helped you in, washed your hair, sat behind you and kissed your shoulder every time you winced. He whispered sweet nothings while he wrapped a towel around you, dressed you in one of his shirts, and tucked you back into bed. And when you fell asleep curled into his side, he didn’t move. Just held you there. Protectively. Reverently. Like you were something holy he was lucky to touch.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The sunlight was warm. The kind that filtered through curtains in thick strips and kissed your face until you stirred with a little whine and buried deeper into the warmth beside you.

“Hey,” Bob whispered, voice still rough with sleep. “You awake?”

“Mhmmm. Barely.” His arm was heavy across your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. His shirt—soft and far too big on you—was wrinkled from the way you��d collapsed into it hours ago, too spent and floaty to think about anything but his arms around you. “You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a thumb over your hip. “Sore?”

“A little. But it’s a good sore.” He grinned into your hair. “A proud sore.” You snorted. “Okay, calm down.”

“Just saying,” he drawled, pulling you closer. “You took me like a damn champ. That deserves a trophy... Or at least pancakes.” You smiled into his chest. “There are worse ways to earn breakfast.” His hand rubbed slow circles over your back, and for a few moments it was quiet. Still. Just the soft rhythm of his breathing and the weight of the blanket tangled between your legs.

Then... “Hey.”

You looked up. Bob’s blue eyes were sleepy, but so full of affection it made your chest ache. “I love you,” he said, simply. “Just needed to say it out loud this morning.” You felt your cheeks heat. “I love you too.” He smiled. “You’re really something, y’know that?” You rolled onto your back with a groan. “God, if you keep being sappy I’m never going to get out of this bed.” Bob shifted, hovering over you now, face hovering above yours with a teasing glint in his eye. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

You kissed him, slow and sweet. “Pancakes first. Shenanigans later.” He flopped back dramatically, one hand to his chest. “You wound me.” 

“I’ll make the coffee,” you offered, sitting up and stretching. Bob caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to the inside. “You aren't doing anything. Just let me take care of you.”

“You did,” you said softly. “You do. Every day.” His gaze softened again. “Still gonna do it. Every damn day I get to.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself perched on the counter in the kitchen, still just wearing his shirt and watching him flip pancakes like some domestic god. His hair was tousled, his jaw still scruffy, and his bare feet padded quietly across the floor as he hummed a tune under his breath. “You’re staring,” he said without turning. “Can you blame me?” He turned around with a smirk and offered you a forkful. “Here. Taste test for me.” You leaned forward, took the bite, and moaned dramatically. “God-tier.” He raised a brow. “That good?”

“Or maybe I’m just still riding the high of last night.” Bob leaned in and kissed your cheek. “Let’s keep you flying then.”

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[sebsxphia]

thinking about bob (reynolds) thinking he doesn't deserve a blowjob :(( he just wants you to feel good and thank you for loving him!!! then one day you convince him, and he can't help but protest, even as your lips are wrapping around him and his hand is winding into your hair :(( my pookieeeeeeee

the pleasure dilemma.

robert reynolds x reader.

￫ summary: you convince robert reynolds that it’s okay to receive pleasure.

￫ word count: 2K.

￫ warnings: blowjobs, deep throating, smut and fluff.

￫ authors notes: this is my first time writing for robert reynolds! i hope i’ve done him justice 🥹 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

He was always so caring and considerate. You gave him warmth and comfort. In return, he gave you sweet little acts of service to show you how truly grateful he was that you were kind and patient with him. 

He would make your food, even if he had little energy that day. A pot of instant noodles was presented with love. He would buy you small craft sets for whatever hobby you were into. He would wait up all evening if he knew you were coming back late, so that he could listen to what you had to say. 

But most of all, he practically demanded to be comfortably nestled between your thighs, his warm mouth on your cunt and pushing you to the brink of overstimulation every time. 

You loved exploring each other's sexuality together, but the one thing he always denied you was giving him head.

“What is it, Bob, hm?” You asked him tenderly as you sat on his lap at the edge of his bed. You hooked your finger under his chin, causing him to look at you. “Is it that you’ve never had one before? Are you nervous?”

“No—” He half heartedly laughed. “I have… I just don’t feel like I deserve it, y’ know? You do so much for me, and I want to show you how much I love and appreciate you.” His large palms were on your waist, holding you against him as you sat on his lap. He pulled you in tighter; that underlying force that bellowed inside of him was ready to flip you over and spread your thighs before him.

“Bob…” You let out a giggle as he returned to kissing your neck to distract you. “You do so much for me!” You protested back at him, but it fell on deaf ears as he pressed kisses down your neck and shoulders.

Your fingers found their way through his soft curls and tugged a little as his lips sucked on your tender flesh. 

“Bob!” You protested again with laughter. You lifted his face to meet yours, and he wore a smug smile due to his attempt at distracting you. “Tell me. Why?”

His eyes shifted from yours to stare at the ground, and his fingers played with the hem of your t-shirt.

“It’s fucking stupid.” He mumbled out.

“I can promise you, it won’t be.” You reassured him with a soft smile and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his warm ear. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden, or be a hassle, or be annoying—”

“A blowjob is annoying to you?” You raised your eyebrows at him with a smirk. 

“No!” Bob laughed and brushed it off. “It’s not that. I don’t think I deserve it because you do so much for me, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to, and then I don’t want you to stop being so kind to me because—” 

A flurry of words left his mouth in a panicked rush, and you could see how his chest was beginning to rise and fall faster with each breath. 

“Bob. Bob.” You stopped him mid-rambling and directed his worried gaze back to yours. “You do deserve it. I want to give you a blowjob, and I will always, always love you and want to care for you, my sweetheart.” 

He didn’t say anything in return; he just nodded. You pressed down harder on his lap and slowly began moving your hips across his clothed cock. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and hummed. 

“Please let me, Bob?” You lilted with a sweet and pleading tone.

“Okay.” He swallowed thickly, but a rosy flush crept up his neck and blossomed on his cheeks. 

Truth be told, Bob had played out this exact scenario countless times when he was alone in the shower. His cock hardened beneath you as he pictured how pretty you would look on your knees and took his cock to the hilt. 

You pressed your lips to his and kissed him slowly. Your hands found their way back into his curls and pulled gently, causing him to groan against your mouth. 

You continued to move your hips against his lap, and you mumbled against him. “Remember, you can tell me to stop anytime, baby.”

He hummed in agreement and squeezed his palms tighter against your hips, feeling the last draw of your ass over his cock before you shifted off him and knelt between his thighs.

His hands naturally found their way into your hair as you ran yours up and down his clothed thighs. You littered teasing kisses over the fabric, but when you pressed firmer kisses to his growing bulge, he let out a loud moan.

Your fingers messily found the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down and off, followed by his underwear. You let out a whimper when you saw how achingly hard Bob was already. His cock was pressing against his torso, which was littered with the soft and messy curls of his pubic hair. 

You had seen his cock plenty of times, but knowing that Bob was baring himself to you like this for you to give him pleasure, caused a surge of pleasure to rip through your stomach. Your cunt twitched momentarily, and you ached to be filled with him.

You were holding back from burying his cock in your mouth to the hilt so quickly.

You placed your hands on his bare thighs and gently squeezed at them, trailing kisses along his warm flesh. He shuddered and let out a whimper. You wrapped your hand around his shaft. It was hot under the touch, and it throbbed as you firmly palmed at it. Your lips met his tip with a soft kiss, and another whimper escaped him.

“Are you sure, baby?” He was questioning you with his words, but his body reacted entirely differently. His hands were winding tighter into your hair and tugging at your scalp. It was a subconscious twitch to pull you down onto his cock and chase that feeling he so desperately craved.

“I’m positive, baby.” You convinced him between a flurry of kisses to his shaft.

Your lips wrapped around his tip, and you sank lower down his shaft. He bucked his hips forward, and a longing groan left his lips, his secret pleasure daydream now becoming a wild reality.

You moved your tongue along the base of his cock, and a more resounding groan tore from his throat.

“Fuck!” Hearing him curse your name above caused your stomach to twist, and arousal seep through your underwear.

His fingers entangled deeper into your hair as you sank lower. You moved your head along his shaft at a rhythmic pace, with your tongue drawing long strokes against his base. Your palms spread across his thighs to steady yourself, with the aid of Bob’s hand messily in your hair to guide you.

Your body bounced rhythmically in time, and with a deep swallow, you took his cock to the hilt, burying your nose into the base of his curls. His swollen tip hit the back of your throat, and he choked out a groan, startled by the sudden movement. His sweet noises of contentment turned into breathy whimpers as your warm mouth took him whole. You mercilessly continued to push his tip to the back of his throat, and a curse of your name tore from his throat.

“Shit! Oh! Oh my fuckin’ God. You feel so fucking good, my sweet girl.” He stumbled over his words with breathy moans.

You pulled back momentarily, and his eyes fell on the string of saliva connecting his tip to your bottom lip. You ran your thumb across your lips, collecting the saliva into your mouth with a smirk. He cursed again.

You took his length back into your warm mouth, but this time, removed your hand from his thigh and gently cupped at his swollen balls.

“Oh… Oh…” He gasped with relief.

You drew yourself off his cock to ask, “Does that feel nice?”

“Yeah… Please… Keep going.” He was asking politely, but his voice had a heavy sense of demand. You were firmly reminded of the weight of his powers that rumbled and coursed through his veins.

You placed your mouth back around his cock, and your hand massaged his balls. You kept a continuous pace, sliding your lips up and around his cock, and slowly added a firm pressure to the grasp on his balls. He continued to let out a string of hurried curses of your name, groaning every time his pulsing tip hit the back of your throat. 

You gently bounced on your knees against the carpet. You were pathetically humping the air in an attempt to gain any friction against your clit that was throbbing against your underwear.

“Let me look at you, please, baby.” He murmured. One of his hands left your head to cup at your jaw and tilt your gaze upwards. Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes from the continuous deep throating. A sheen of salvia was drooling down your chin, and your cheeks felt hot.

Bob had envisioned this moment countless times, but nothing compared to the pretty sight below him. 

Your eyes directly met his. His gaze bore into yours, and you saw the shimmery, golden speckles flutter around his pupils. 

It caused a shudder to spread down your spine. 

“I’d like to experience this more often, please. You look so pretty for me.” He breathed out with shaky breaths but with a sure smile. 

He was always so damned polite.

You did your best attempt at a smile but hummed in agreement. The vibrations sent around his cock caused him to stutter out another moan, and you took that as your sign to continue your ministrations.

You repeated the same rhythmic actions, and Bob couldn’t hold on for much longer. His hips were starting to buck impossibly closer to your face, and the grip on your hair grew tighter.

“I think… M’ gonna…” He blurted it out so suddenly that his taste in your mouth caught you off guard. “Don’t stop… Please! Oh fuck!” He groaned out with shaky breaths as he spilt into your mouth, and his head rolled backwards. 

You continued to pulse your mouth around his twitching cock, causing him to whine as his thighs trembled beneath you. Another flurry of curses left his lips, pushing him further into overstimulation.

You licked along the base of his sticky shaft twice more before removing your mouth completely. 

You gazed up at him and watched how the golden sparkles thrummed around his pupils before dissolving completely.

His cock was sheened with a mix of his cum and your saliva. A rosy flush was blossoming across his cheeks, and a pleasure-induced smile spread on his face.

He was such a beautiful sight to behold. 

You wiped your thumb over your bottom lip, collecting the final droplets of his spend into your mouth. 

You placed yourself back on his lap, and your hands found his hair again. As you placed a kiss on his lips, he let out a muffled groan as he tasted himself. 

Bob pulled back from the kiss and let out a gasp when he felt your arousal seeping through your underwear and coating his softening cock.

“Have you been this wet the entire time, baby?!”

You hid your face in the crook of his neck. “Yeah.” You mumbled as you mouthed at his flesh. 

“Can I give you head now, please?” He politely asked with a playful tone. You pulled back and nodded eagerly. 

“You can, but I’m giving you another blowjob late—” You let out a yelp, followed by bubbles of laughter as Bob used his underlying force to pick you up so effortlessly and lay you out on the bed.

He grinned as he towered above you and drew his hands up your ankles to part your thighs. “Fine by me, my sweet girl.” 

taglist: @floydsmuse @beachbabey @tallrock35 @unmistakablyunknown @kmc1989

tagging those who may be interested: @becks-things @peachystenbrough @lewmagoo @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @rhettmotel @mustaaarrd @beautifulandvoid @auroralightsthesky

[flowersforbucky]

you drew stars around my scars

bob reynolds x reader

summary: you show bob that he doesn’t need to be insecure about anything with you.

word count: 1k

warnings/tags: 18+ only, mentions of past drug use, descriptions of scars from drug use, insecurities, hurt/comfort, kissing and suggestiveness, implied smut, no use of y/n, some angst, fluff

author's note: i fully believe the sentry project would have gotten rid of any scars but i couldn't get this idea out of my head so.. just pretend with me.

please do not read this if any of the warnings could be triggering for you. you are responsible for your own media consumption, take care of yourself ♡

“Honey,” you breathe. He plants a trail of kisses from your jaw down to the pulse point of your throat, where he begins to bite and suckle.  

He knows that it's your weakness.  

Normally, you'd melt into it – let him take his time peppering you with love bites.  

But right now, you're seeking something else. He knows it, too. It's the reason he's trying his hardest to distract you.  

The second that your hands crept under his shirt and began easing the fabric up his back, he broke the heated kiss you’d been lost in, moving his lips to your throat, instead.  

And then to your collarbones, and then the peaks of your breasts, and your sternum, and so on – until he’s so far down your body that you have no choice but to let your hands fall away from where they’d been resting under his shirt.  

A blissful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. 

“Honey,” you repeat when he gets to the waistband of your panties. He pauses before he can pull them down, looking up at you with an expression of hesitation and uncertainty.  

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks, concern etched in his voice. “Do you want me to stop?”  

“Well, no,” you laugh. “I don’t. I just…”  

You trail off, looking up at the ceiling. You’d been planning how to go about this conversation in your head for days, but now that it’s actually time to string the words together to formulate what should be a relatively straight forward question, your brain is drawing blanks.  

“What is it?” He asks gently. He sits up on his knees, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “You can talk to me.”  

There's a part of you that wants to drop it entirely. The last thing you want is to be embarrass him, or pressure him, but you also need him to know that you want to touch him, feel him, see him completely and fully.  

Mostly, you want to understand why.  

Why doesn’t he want you to take his shirt off? Why is he insistent on wearing long sleeves when it’s the middle of summer? Why is it that when he does take his shirt off during sex, it’s only at night when all of the lights are turned off? 

It hurts you to think that he may not see himself the way you see him. All you want is to assure him that he never has to hide any part of himself – not from you. 

“You know I love you, right?” You sit up, eye-level with him. His brows crease, in the endearing way they usually do when he’s confused or in deep thought. “All of you?”  

He drops his gaze, as if realizing the direction this conversation is heading. He nods. “Of course I do.”  

You place a handle beneath his chin, gently tilting his head back up so that he's looking you in the eye once more. “Can I see all of you, then?”  

“It’s not that I don’t want you to see me,” he murmurs. “I’m just afraid that you’ll look at me differently once you do.”  

“Bob,” you breathe, stroking the side of his face with your thumb. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me love you less. You’re perfect to me, no matter what.” 

He gives you a small, hesitant smile before he grabs the hem of his Henley and slowly pulls it over his head. At first, your eyes go to the muscles of his chest. You have caught glimpses of them and have felt them from beneath his clothing on many occasions, so you’re not surprised by the defined planes of his abdomen, but you still can’t help but ogle.  

As many times as you’ve tried to picture what he'd look like without the baggy shirts, you're now realizing that your imagination failed you.  

Then, he extends his arms. Your eyes follow his to his inner elbows, and that’s when you realize that his insecurity was never about his physique.  

You know what you’re looking at without him having to explain. Though it isn’t something he talks about often, his history with drug addiction is not a secret. You're still surprised to see the slightly raised, discolored lines in the bends of his arms, however. Mostly because you didn’t think it was possible for him to have scars anymore.  

There’s a couple on each arm, some more noticeable than others.  

“All of the others faded a long time ago,” he says meekly, staring down at the marks. “But these got infected, so they scarred worse. I had hoped that the serum they gave me in Malaysia would take care of them, but I guess it doesn’t really help older scars, ‘cause they’re still here.” 

You scoot closer to him, once again tilting his face to look up at you. He gulps, blinking quickly to keep unshed tears at bay. Leaning forward, you slate your lips over his. He kisses you back, practically sighing against your lips with relief.  

You pull his right arm to you, leaning down to press your lips to the more prominent of the two dark lines in a series of feather-light kisses. Bob’s posture relaxes, and you hear the faintest hum of contentment emanate from his chest. When you've kissed both scars, you move to his left arm and do the same.  

“I love you,” you whisper when you pull away. “I think you’re beautiful, Bob. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to hide any part of yourself from me.”  

“I love you, too. More than you know.” He smiles, no longer looking ashamed or embarrassed. He maneuvers you back down against the mattress, hovering above you. There’s a playful look on his face as he smirks down at you, eyes roaming down your chest and to where his fingers once again toy with the band of your underwear.  

“Now that we have that conversation out of the way, maybe I could get back to what I was trying to do a few minutes ago? If that’s.. if that’s okay with you?”  

You snort a laugh, pushing away the locks of his hair that fall down over his face. "Of course."

******

thank you so much for reading!! as always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

[rhettrosunsets]

Just Acquaintances - Bob Floyd X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Robert Bob Floyd X Rival Fem!Reader

Category: Rivals To Lovers. Slight Angst. Fluff.

Summary: You knew one thing, you didn't like Bob Floyd and he didn't like you, but when you got get assigned to Top Gun, thing's begin to change. Even if you keep claiming you're just acquaintances.

Based off this ask here!

Masterlist

Warnings: Reader does wear a dress, there's a guy being an asshole at the bar and making suggestive comments about reader, Bob and reader have tension. Reader is very firey and want's to prove herself so badly. Inaccurate military knowledge. No use of Y/N. No description of readers looks.

Notes: Anon thank you so much for suggesting this! I had so much fun getting to write this, and I hope I did your ask justice. ❤️

Edited ✅

You couldn’t even remember what your first argument was about during basic training. It was probably something stupid. You always trying to prove your worth. You always wanted get the last word in, always wanting to succeed. And Bob Floyd always made that so much harder.

From that day forward, you knew one thing, and one thing only. You really didn’t like Bob Floyd. People were always shocked when you mentioned that fact. He was so polite, always a gentleman. He never raised his voice at anyone, even you. He took everything as it came, always so grounded, always so assured even if he didn’t boast about it. And it irked you like no other.

The two of you became rivals, always trying to one up the other. Something many people weren't used to seeing from Bob, always used to seeing the polite yet assured version of him. It was something all your peers tried to steer clear from when you two got into it.

You were so fiery, so sharp and always ready to take action as fast as you humanly could. You just wanted so badly to just prove yourself and you wouldn't stop at anything to do it. Bob was steadier, more grounded. He always thought things through and was more consistent with his results. You clashed constantly, or complimented each other depending on who you asked.

Your instructors always said that you brought out the best in each other, always pushing each other to the limit, testing each other like no one else quite could. You would’ve preferred peace and quiet, not new limits. Eventually, time split the two of you apart as you got stationed to different bases and you couldn't have been more thankful. There were no goodbyes, no long hug’s, no more bickering, no more curt nods in hallways, no more pushing one another. Just orders and silence.

And maybe, just maybe, that should’ve been the end of you and Bob Floyd forever. Just a slight bookmark in one's path. But the universe seemed to have other plans.  The moment you walked into The Hard Deck for the first time your heart sank. There he was. The man you thought you'd never run into again.

Bob Floyd.

He looked up the same second you did, your eyes meeting. His eye’s seemingly doing a double take just as you had done a moment earlier. He gave you an unreadable stare, a distinct change from the polite smile he had while talking to the other aviators just a moment before you had walked in. It was the kind of look that always made you feel like he was thinking five steps ahead of you. The kind of look that made you feel like he always knew something you didn’t. The type of look you’ve missed.

“Lieutenant.” he greeted as you walked over with a curt nod of his head. You responded with a nod back, before muttering out a “Floyd.” In response.

Phoenix blinked between you two her eyes sensing the tension between you. "There's some history there.” she muttered to the rest of the aviators behind her, all watching the scene go down in front of them.

Hangman grinned widely before chuckling out “Exes?” as he nodded at the two of you.

You scoffed, while Bob seemingly choked on his drink before you muttered. “Absolutely not.”

Everyone else thought the tension was flirtatious, like it was a cat and mouse game you two had going. But you knew better, you knew that you and Bob Floyd didn’t even want to touch each other with a ten foot pole.

At least that’s what you told yourself.

Weeks had passed, you avoided him and he avoided you. It was like a truce compared to your training days. You expected this to all be over after the Uranium Mission. But then you all had gotten called into a briefing.A briefing telling you that the Dagger Squad was about to become permanent.

When the Dagger Squad became permanent, something started shifting between you and Bob Floyd. It was small things at first. He started holding the door open for you when you guys walked into the building at the same time. You stopped glaring at him when he got the final shot during trainings. He began to sit near you during lunch. You even laughed when he made a comment about Rooster's mustache.

You didn’t notice the way his eyes seemed to light up at the sound of your laugh and the sight of you throwing your head back because of something he had said.

But others began to notice, even if you didn't.

“We’re not enemies. We're just acquaintances, nothing less nothing more.” you told Natasha one night at The Hard Deck, and it was true. You don’t think you were ever enemies. Rivals, of course. But never truly enemies.

She raised her glass as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow and said “To progress, then.”

Then came the night where everything came crashing down at once.

You’d finished an absolutely brutal week of training, and you decided you just wanted to look nice and dress up for yourself. For once, you weren’t in a flight suit. Instead, you wore a cute outfit, a soft dress that you loved on yourself and how it makes you feel. You weren’t what anyone expected you to be tonight, you were just you. No flight suit, no expectations, just you wearing something that made you feel good and confident.

The Hard Deck was absolutely packed. The jukebox blared loudly and the rest of the squad besides Bob was already a few beers in. You were leaning against the bar, sipping on your drink and laughing with Fanboy when he showed up.

Some random guy in knock off aviators, with an ego so big you could feel it the moment he walked near you.

“You look like you could use company, pretty girl.” he said, sliding in to the chair next to you, way too close for comfort. You shifted your stance awkwardly trying to shuffle away from the man, politely nodding a soft smile before responding with a simple “I’m good, thank you.” before attempting to end the conversation then and there.

He ignored that entirely not taking the hint of you leaning away from him, as he leaned even closer to you his breath fanning your shoulder. “You sure? You got a smile that men would gladly go to war for sweetheart.”

You clenched your jaw your eyes darkening a bit, before trying one more time. “M’really not interested. I'd appreciate if you moved.”

And that’s when Bob appeared out of seemingly nowhere.

“You heard her” he said, his tone way too calm for the rage present in his eyes, and the way his hands where clenching into fists.

The guy scoffed with a laugh before sputtering out a “Who the hell are you? Her fucking babysitter?”

Bob stepped forward, his eye’s filled with something much stronger than anger. “I’m her squadmate. And I'm also someone who doesn’t like repeating himself, so I suggest you leave.” He said firmly, leaving no room for questions.

The dude held his hands up, walking away as he muttered something about "psychopathic aviators" and you being a bitch anyways.

The moment he was gone, you spun around to face Bob. “What the hell was that?” You exclaimed with your hands, your face morphed into something between hurt and anger. He blinked, taken aback by your intense reaction. “I was just trying-”

You cut him off

“I had it Bob, I didn’t need you stepping in like I’m fucking helpless!” You said harshly, your voice betraying you a bit as emotion seeped through.

“You didn’t look helpless” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You looked uncomfortable, I just-”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone, Bob.” You said loudly, your eyes welling up.

Bob looked like he’d been slapped as he saw your defeated face and welling eyes. The bar seemed to disappear from both of your ears. All that existed was the frustrated flush on your face, the tears in your eyes, and the regret already forming as you saw the way Bob’s jaw flexed.

He sighed loudly, before looking at you. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

You frowned confusing lining your features “What? What are you talking about Bob.”

“I like you” he said simply, like he didn’t just knock your breath away.

“I’ve always liked you. I just didn’t know how to act on it because we were always arguing. You’re so fucking smart and witty. You don’t take shit from anyone, but you’re one of the most kindhearted people I know, and it drives me insane knowing I've never been able to have you.” He said with a tone of voice that made it sure that you knew you couldn't argue with him on this.

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out as you stand there bewildered, your eyes glossy and wide.

“And I get it if you don’t feel the same” he said as he looked away from your confused expression. “But I wasn’t gonna stand there and let some asshole disrespect you. I couldn’t do that, you deserve so much better than an asshole like that. I know you can handle yourself, but he couldn’t get away with treating you like you were an object and not a human.”

And suddenly before you even knew it, your hands moved before your brain and you grabbed the sides of his face tilting it down toward yours.

His eyes widened just for a moment, before your lips crashed into his. It was years of tension, of stolen glances and arguing all combined into one. It was hot and aching and full of something you hadn’t even realized you needed to feel.

When you pulled back, your breath hitched as you looked at Bob, the both of you seemingly dazed. Bob laughed softly as his face still was dazed “So is that a yes?”

You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him close again. “That’s a shut up and let's do it again, Floyd.’”

And he did. Right there, in the middle of the Hard Deck with the whole Dagger Squad watching like it was a soap opera.

Hangman whistled loudly, before shouting a “I knew that wasn’t platonic!” While Phoenix raised a shot glass with a knowing smirk on her lips and yelled. “To not being acquaintances.”

You snorted softly before leaning back in and kissing Bob one last time, feeling his hands wrap around your waist.

Maybe you were more than just acquaintances after all.

[midniqhtt]

𐚁 rhett abbott

masterlist • lewis pullman • 06/19/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs II gif credit - @/vivian-rutledge

here are some rhett abbott stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡

⭑.ᐟ goodbye kisses I @writingdumpster

the morning after a bad fight with rhett you don’t give him his goodbye kiss.

⭑.ᐟ drabble I @jasvtsc

⭑.ᐟ moonlight desires I @em1i2a3

You’ve wanted Rhett Abbot since the day you laid your eyes on him. So when the opportunity for a friends with benefits arrangement presents itself you immediately take the plunge, even though there is a risk of hurt feelings on both ends.

⭑.ᐟ odds are stacked I @sunlightmurdock

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

⭑.ᐟ is it casual now? I @lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ lunch break I @/lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ dog days I @/lewmagoo

⭑.ᐟ yours, officially pt2 I @verricherri

⭑.ᐟ request I @withahappyrefrain

⭑.ᐟ possibility I @sebsxphia

maybe you and rhett could make this work.

⭑.ᐟ house in nebraska I @mustyrosewater

when she went missing, disappeared without a trace, it was almost like a deep seated black hole found it's way into rhetts chest, as he recalls all his time spent with her admist trying to find answers, the deep seated energy of the cursed lands they live on come apart to make way for lovers to find each other again.

⭑.ᐟ to the nines I @bradshawsbaby

⭑.ᐟ what do you mean you paid for it? I @girlcowboy

[itwillbethescarletwitch]

Peachy

Lewis Pullman x Fem!Reader

The backyard is warm and still — heavy with that kind of thick, slow heat that makes everything feel like it’s moving through honey. A half-empty pack of Solo cups is slumped beside the porch steps. There’s a faint crackle of music drifting from inside the house — some old indie vinyl Lewis put on just after breakfast.

You’re outside in your favorite sundress — loose, soft, floral — one that flutters around your thighs when the breeze hits just right. You’re crouched low over a row of coolers, sleeves of soda and bottled water scattered around you, separating everything into four color-coded bins: juice boxes in the blue one, soda in red, water in green, and the beer tucked away in white — out of reach of curious little hands.

You’re humming to yourself as you work, fingertips dusted with condensation from the ice bags you just cracked open.

You don’t hear Lewis come outside.

You feel him first — a flicker of his shadow on the grass, the familiar sound of his sneakers scraping over the porch planks — and then: two warm hands slide over your hips, a solid body pressing flush behind you.

And then his hips roll against yours.

You gasp — half surprise, half laugh — and instinctively press back into him just a little. He groans into your neck, soft and desperate.

YOU

(teasing, breathy)

Oh? Needy?

LEWIS

So fucking needy I can’t even see straight.

His voice is low, gravel dragged over syrup, and he doesn’t stop grinding against you — slow, deliberate, already so hard it makes your knees go a little soft.

YOU

We’ve got an hour, Lew. Don’t start something we don’t have time to finish.

LEWIS

We do have time. Just ten minutes. Hell — five. I don’t even need to get fully undressed. Just pull this little sundress up and—

His fingers trail down your outer thigh, slow and suggestive. You grab his wrist before it can go any further and glance back over your shoulder with a smirk.

YOU

You’re serious?

He looks at you like you just asked if the sky was blue. His cheeks are flushed, jaw locked tight, and his eyes — dark and wide and wrecked — are shameless.

LEWIS

I’ve been hard since you bent over like that ten minutes ago. This dress is evil. You’re evil. I’m losing my mind out here.

YOU

We’ve got parents and nieces and cousins showing up any second. You really wanna sneak off while your mom’s walking in the front gate?

LEWIS

If it means I get to be inside you? I’ll risk it.

You laugh — an actual giggle — and he groans again, this time full-body, like the sound got pulled from deep in his chest.

YOU

You’re begging.

LEWIS

Damn right I am. Baby, I’m fucking aching. I woke up like this and it hasn’t gone away. I watched you walk around the kitchen barefoot, sipping coffee in that tiny towel, and I’ve been in hell ever since.

You straighten up slightly, still crouched, letting your hips roll back into him just a little — enough to make him hiss through his teeth. He grips your waist tighter, knuckles white.

YOU

You look pretty when you’re desperate.

LEWIS

I look pathetic. And I don’t care. Please, baby.

You finally stand and turn to face him, and he looks like a man on the brink — hair tousled, lips parted, and his hands flexing like he doesn’t know where to put them if they’re not on you.

You trail your fingertips up the front of his tight blue Winchester tee, stopping right over his pounding heart.

YOU

Let me get this straight. You want to sneak into our house, fuck me so fast and hard I can still smile at your mom twenty minutes later, without any of our siblings or nieces catching us?

He nods, quickly. Eager. You tilt your head.

YOU (CONT’D)

Mm… no.

LEWIS

What?

YOU

No. You’re gonna wait.

He actually stumbles back a step like you physically knocked the wind out of him.

LEWIS

You’re joking.

YOU

Not even a little.

LEWIS

You’re gonna make me go back inside. With this.

He gestures wildly toward the very visible outline in his pants, looking like he might actually scream.

YOU

You’ll survive.

You bend back down again — slowly this time — as you reach for another six-pack of soda. The sundress flutters up again and you hear Lewis let out the softest, most strangled groan behind you.

YOU (CONT’D)

Beer cooler’s yours. Don’t forget the ice. And maybe… cool off while you’re at it.

LEWIS

You’re cruel.

YOU

You love it.

You don’t even have to look back to know he’s still standing there, jaw tight, fists clenched, completely wrecked — and the damn cookout hasn’t even started yet.

INT. KITCHEN – LATE AFTERNOON – COOKOUT IN FULL SWING

The kitchen is loud with overlapping conversations — your mom fussing over potato salad, your niece begging for another juice box, and Lewis’s sister pulling cupcakes out of a bakery box with loud praise.

You slip through the crowd with practiced ease, refilling the chip bowl and tossing another batch of forks into a tray. Every time you turn, you feel it:

His eyes.

Lewis watches you from across the kitchen like he’s starving. He’s leaned casually against the fridge, red Solo cup in hand, but there’s nothing casual about the way he’s looking at you — eyes low, mouth slightly open, thumb rubbing the rim of his cup like he’s imagining it’s your skin.

You flash him a sweet smile and then turn to help your cousin with the lemonade.

A beat later, you feel it: his hand. Just a brush of fingers at the small of your back as he walks behind you, so light it could’ve been nothing. But it isn’t. You feel it like a live wire.

LEWIS (LOW, BEHIND YOU)

I’m gonna drag you into the bathroom if you keep looking at me like that.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking.

YOU (SOFT)

You wouldn’t.

LEWIS

Try me.

⸻

EXT. BACKYARD – TWENTY MINUTES LATER – GOLDEN HOUR

The sun’s beginning to sink, casting that buttery light over everything. Paper plates dot the grass, kids shriek as they chase each other with water guns, and the scent of grilled burgers hangs thick in the air.

You’re sitting beside your aunt at the long picnic table, sipping a spiked lemonade. Lewis is on the opposite end, laughing with your dad and tossing something on the grill, but every few minutes, he glances your way.

Not subtle.

You cross your legs slowly under the table and his gaze locks onto your thigh as it slides out from under your sundress.

He blinks.

Then looks away with effort.

Two minutes later, he texts you:

Lewis: I’m gonna lose it.

Lewis: One more look like that and I’m bending you over the laundry room sink.

Lewis: That’s a promise.

You smile down at your phone, then shoot him a reply:

You: Better hope your mom doesn’t need a dish towel while I’m in there, then.

Across the table, he nearly chokes on his lemonade.

⸻

INT. HALLWAY – MOMENTS LATER – INSIDE THE HOUSE

You duck into the house under the excuse of checking the corn in the oven. The kitchen is momentarily empty.

You open the oven, peer inside… and then sense someone behind you.

YOU (SOFTLY)

If that’s my mom, I swear I’m not burning it—

You turn and—

SLAM.

Lewis pins you gently but firmly against the hallway wall between the kitchen and the laundry room, one hand planted beside your head, the other already gripping your waist. His breath is hot against your cheek.

LEWIS (ROUGH WHISPER)

You think this is funny?

YOU (TEASING)

A little. You’ve been hard for like three hours.

LEWIS

And you love it.

You don’t answer.

You just smile.

His lips graze your jawline, the side of your throat, slow and shaky.

LEWIS (CONT’D)

Tell me to stop and I will.

You don’t.

You tilt your head back, breath catching.

His hand dips beneath the hem of your sundress — only a little. Just his fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh.

Then—

FOOTSTEPS.

Voices. Your cousin laughing, someone calling for ketchup.

You both freeze.

YOU (BREATHLESS)

Don’t. Move.

LEWIS (MURMURING INTO YOUR EAR)

Baby, you are killing me.

The voices pass. You swallow hard.

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed, lips parted, your body thrumming.

Then you shift, slip right out of his grasp, straighten your dress, and shoot him a look over your shoulder as you walk back into the kitchen.

YOU

Corn’s done.

He stays frozen in the hallway for a moment, chest rising and falling, hands flexing at his sides.

And then he mutters under his breath:

LEWIS

Un. Fucking. Believable.

EXT. BACKYARD – EVENING – DINNER TIME

The sun is sinking low now, dipping the backyard in soft amber. Everyone’s finally sitting down with paper plates full of grilled food — burgers, corn, pasta salad, chips, charred hot dogs for the kids. Laughter echoes under the string lights, someone’s Bluetooth speaker is playing Fleetwood Mac, and all seems right in the world.

Unless you’re Lewis.

He’s seated at the far end of the long picnic table, trapped between your mom and his dad, trying to nod politely through a conversation about someone’s new patio furniture — but he’s not really there.

Not when you’re sitting directly across from him, licking butter off your fingers like it’s nothing.

You look warm and sun-kissed, cheeks flushed, sundress riding up slightly as you shift in your seat. One knee rests over the other, swaying lazily. You lick the edge of your thumb, catch his eye, and bite into your corn on the cob.

Slowly.

Lewis. Breaks.

He shifts in his seat — again — legs spread wider, as if that’ll somehow help with the very obvious situation in his jeans. He grips his paper plate like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth.

LEWIS

(muttering to himself)

She’s trying to kill me.

YOUR COUSIN (TO LEWIS)

What was that?

LEWIS (QUICKLY)

Nothing! Uh — the, uh — food’s great.

Your eyes glitter as you bite into your burger, deliberately ignoring the look he’s giving you: part hunger, part despair, all pent-up frustration.

He tries to focus on eating. He really does. But every time he looks up, you’re doing something else cruel:

• Reapplying lip balm.

• Sucking the juice from a piece of watermelon.

• Stretching your arms overhead like you don’t know your dress rides up when you do.

You’re a menace. And you know it.

He texts you again, right under the table:

Lewis: You’re actually evil.

Lewis: I can’t do this much longer.

Lewis: I’m gonna say something insane in front of your mom.

Lewis: Stop.

You glance down at your phone, then up at him, and take the slowest sipfrom your lemonade. Tongue against the straw. Legs crossed tighter.

His jaw tightens.

You lean forward across the table a little, arms resting on the edge, and speak sweetly:

YOU

Everything taste okay, babe?

He stares at you like he might combust on the spot.

LEWIS

Delicious.

He looks anything but okay.

You tilt your head, like you’re all innocent.

YOU

You look a little flushed. You alright?

LEWIS

Peachy.

Your dad walks by and claps him on the shoulder, totally oblivious.

DAD

You alright there, Lewis? You look like you’ve been working the grill yourself.

Lewis laughs. It sounds like pain.

LEWIS

Just… uh… hot out here, sir.

You bite back a smile. Take another bite of corn. He watches you like he’s counting the seconds until he can finally have you alone again.

And right now, you’re winning.

EXT. BACKYARD – NIGHTFALL – POST-COOKOUT GLOW

The string lights twinkle overhead now, swaying gently in the breeze. Most of the paper plates are empty, plastic cups half-full and scattered, and the last of the kids are chasing fireflies barefoot through the grass.

You’ve kicked your shoes off. You’re perched on the porch steps, sipping from the same lemonade you’ve been nursing all day. Your sundress is hitched up just a little from sitting, legs bare and stretched out in front of you.

Lewis stands behind you, hands on his hips, scanning the yard like a soldier planning an escape route.

LEWIS (LOW)

Alright. Everyone’s eaten. Everyone’s full. They’re gonna start leaving now, yeah?

You hum noncommittally.

YOU

Might take a little longer. My mom never leaves without wrapping up at least three different types of leftovers. And your aunt’s probably already loading the dishwasher.

LEWIS

No. No no no. I’ve been hard since before the guests got here. I am done. I am reclaiming my girlfriend now.

You turn slightly, resting your chin on your shoulder, all soft eyes and faux-innocence.

YOU

Is that your way of offering to clean?

LEWIS

Yes. Enthusiastically. Furiously. Just — alone. You and me. Inside. Now.

He claps his hands once and raises his voice toward the family chaos around the yard.

LEWIS (LOUDER)

Hey! Everyone! We’ve got clean-up handled — seriously! You guys just enjoy the night. We’re good!

You blink. Bold of him. A few cousins pause mid-conversation. Your mom looks up from where she’s gathering a pile of napkins.

And then?

MOM (MATTER-OF-FACTLY)

You hosted. We clean.

Lewis freezes. His mouth opens, then closes.

LEWIS

What?

YOUR AUNT (WALKING BY WITH TUPPERWARE)

It’s the rule, sweetheart. Host doesn’t lift a finger. Now scoot, where’s your trash bags?

COUSIN (TO YOU)

We’re making a take-home plate

You are okay. You’re perfect. Especially now, as Lewis stands beside you looking like he might cry.

LEWIS (TO HIMSELF)

This is a nightmare. This is my personal hell.

He leans down beside you, murmuring under his breath:

LEWIS (LOW)

They’re multiplying. I swear there’s more of them than before.

YOU (SOFTLY, SMILING)

You look like you’re about to break.

LEWIS

I am about to break. I have never wanted you more in my life and your mom just handed me a Glad bag and told me to double knot it.

YOU

Mm. Sexy.

He stares at you. He is unamused. You are very amused.

LEWIS

You’re evil and I love you but I also might die.

YOU

You’ll survive. Barely.

Your little niece comes racing across the yard and crashes into Lewis’s legs with a sticky hug.

NIECE

Lewyyy!! Can I have one more cookie?

Lewis smiles weakly.

LEWIS

Sure, sweetheart. You can have anything. Literally anything.

As she runs off again, he turns to you — defeated, flushed, teeth clenched.

LEWIS (WHISPERING)

You better hope they leave in the next twenty minutes or I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you upstairs in front of your entire bloodline.

You grin.

YOU

Tempting.

INT. LIVING ROOM – LATE NIGHT – QUIET, FINALLY

The last goodbye drifts through the front door.

Tupperware has been handed out. Hugs exchanged. Your mom and his finally pulled away from each other with promises of brunch next week. The front door clicks shut behind them.

Silence.

You turn the lock slowly.

Behind you, Lewis is still. Watching.

You barely get a breath in before he’s on you.

LEWIS (LOW, ROUGH)

Don’t move.

His voice is wrecked — low, hoarse, trembling with restraint. You turn, and the second your eyes meet his, it’s over.

SMASH.

His mouth crashes into yours like a storm — no teasing, no gentleness left. Hands gripping your waist tight, walking you backward blindly until your back hits the nearest wall. The kiss is filthy — all teeth, tongue, desperation. Like he’s making up for every second he spent sitting politely at a dinner table with a hard-on.

LEWIS (BREATHLESS, BETWEEN KISSES)

You. Fucking. Tortured. Me.

YOU (GASPING, LAUGHING)

You liked it.

He growls, literally growls, and grabs your thighs in both hands. You don’t even get a warning — he lifts you up like nothing, your back against the wall, legs wrapping around his waist as his mouth drags down your jaw to your neck.

LEWIS (WHISPERED, DARK)

I’m not gonna be gentle.

You bite your lip, nodding, breath caught.

YOU (SOFTLY)

Don’t be.

That’s all it takes.

⸻

INT. BEDROOM – MOMENTS LATER – DARK, LIT ONLY BY MOONLIGHT

He stumbles through the door with you in his arms, kicking it shut without ever looking away from you. Clothes are gone in seconds. His shirt hits the floor first. Then your sundress — yanked over your head, left in a heap.

You’re in nothing underneath.

LEWIS (HOARSE WHISPER)

Of course you weren’t wearing anything under that fucking dress. Of course you weren’t.

He kisses down your chest, messy and hot, like he can’t decide where he wants to start — teeth grazing over a nipple, tongue flicking the other, hands gripping your hips like he’s anchoring himself.

He finally pulls back, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s been waiting all day to see you like this.

LEWIS (LOW, SERIOUS)

Hands on the headboard.

YOU

Yes, sir.

His eyes flash.

LEWIS

Don’t say that unless you mean it.

YOU (BREATHLESS)

I do.

That’s it. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the headboard himself, kissing you hard as he lines himself up. The first thrust steals your breath — deep, hard, unapologetic. He doesn’t ease in. Doesn’t give you time. And you don’t want him to.

The rhythm is filthy.

Fast, hungry. His fingers dig into your thigh, spreading you open wider, hitting deep with every snap of his hips. You moan his name and he slapsyour thigh — not hard, but enough to make you gasp.

LEWIS (ROUGH, RIGHT AT YOUR EAR)

You think you can tease me all day? Make me sit there hard while you eat corn and smile at me like that?

You nod, breathless, grinning.

YOU (PANTING)

Yeah. And I’d do it again.

LEWIS (DANGEROUSLY CALM)

You’re such a brat.

His hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles. You arch off the bed, body trembling.

YOU (WHIMPERING)

Lewis, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—

LEWIS

Then come. Right now. Be loud. I want everyone who drove away tonight to hear how wrecked you are.

You do. Hard. Shaking under him, crying out his name as he fucks you through it, still thrusting, still kissing you like he’s addicted.

He doesn’t stop until he’s gasping your name into your neck, hips stuttering, body shaking.

He collapses on top of you, sweaty, breathless, and still kissing every inch of skin he can reach like he needs to.

The room is quiet now — windows cracked just enough to let in a warm breeze, the faint sound of crickets outside blending with the hum of the ceiling fan.

You’re sprawled on his chest, still catching your breath, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin. Lewis’s arm is wrapped tight around your back, the other hand resting in your hair.

For a moment, there’s peace.

Soft. Golden. Satisfied.

Exactly two minutes of it.

And then —

LEWIS (VOICE LOW, RUMBLY)

Alright.

You blink, eyebrows lifting.

YOU

…Alright?

He shifts under you. Big hands slide down your back. His fingers trail along the curve of your ass — still tender from how hard he gripped you minutes ago.

LEWIS

I need more.

YOU (LAUGHING, MUFFLED AGAINST HIS CHEST)

Already?

LEWIS (DEAD SERIOUS)

Yes. Babe, I’ve been on edge since noon. I’m still not okay.

He flips you effortlessly — body shifting under yours, hands grabbing your thighs, rolling you onto your back so he’s hovering over you again, eyes darker now than they were before.

YOU (PLAYFULLY WHINING)

You said “worth the wait” like five minutes ago.

LEWIS (GROWLING SOFTLY)

That was Round One worth the wait. Now I want the rest.

His mouth crashes into yours again — slower this time, but deeper, hungrier. Less frantic, more claiming. He kisses you like he’s trying to ruin your mouth for anyone else.

His hand slips between your legs without breaking the kiss, and you moan into it — still sensitive, but already pulsing again under his touch.

LEWIS (BREATHLESS, MOUTH ON YOUR NECK)

You’re soaked again already.

YOU (GASPING)

That’s your fault.

LEWIS (WHISPERING INTO YOUR SKIN)

I know. I love it.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, then flips you again, this time face-down — hands on your hips, dragging you toward the edge of the bed.

LEWIS (LOW, CONTROLLED)

Up. On your knees.

You obey instantly — breathless, dizzy, and so ready. You press your forearms into the pillows, arching your back, legs trembling already.

He drags his fingers down your spine — slow, reverent.

LEWIS

Look at this. This is mine.

He slides into you again with one deep, punishing thrust — and you whimper, already stretched and aching, but god, it’s so good.

This round is different — deeper, dirtier. His rhythm is intense, hips slamming into you with the kind of precision that says he knows your body now, every little reaction, every gasp and moan.

You cry out when his palm smacks your ass — again, not too hard, but enough to make you clench around him.

YOU (GASPING)

Fuck—Lewis—

LEWIS (DARK LAUGH)

You made me wait all day. Now you take everything I give you.

He reaches forward, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to tilt your head back. You moan helplessly into the sheets.

YOU (WHIMPERING)

Lewis, I—oh god—

LEWIS (BREATHLESS)

Say it. Who’s fucking you this good?

YOU (RUINED)

You. You are. Always.

You come with a full-body shake, legs giving out, body clenching around him so tight he curses, stuttering behind you as he follows, coming deep and hard, pressed flush to your back, whispering your name like a prayer.

[faiszt]

⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀ .⠀⠀⠀˚⠀ ⠀⋆⠀ ⠀ROBERT REYNOLDS IN⠀⠀:⠀⠀♥︎

02.⠀A BLACK CAR AND TWO KISSES ⠀꒰ summary ꒱⠀❛❛ i only want him if he says it first to me. ❜❜ ⠀ he looks like he works with his hands and smells like marlboro reds. ✴⠀the rush was taking over you as one. something you had never felt, something you know you shouldn’t have felt, but your thoughts were taking over more than the rush and you were in his car again, thinking that, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let yourself live for the first time.⠀ LAST CHAPTER

·⠀୨୧⠀·⠀contains⠀:⠀pastor’s son!bob &. younger naive!reader.⠀mentions of religion.⠀age gap ꒰ all characters are of legal age ꒱⠀ family ’n mommy issues.⠀no use of y/n.⠀strong language.⠀cheating.⠀wordcount⠀:⠀6.6k⠀!!

·⠀୨୧⠀·⠀sweet taglist⠀:⠀@lewispullsman ⠀ @rawanevil @morganfullaaa ⠀ ⠀ @hypnobeauty ⠀ ⠀ @petersluvbug @sentryluvs ⠀ ⠀ @em1989ts ⠀⠀ @mommymilkers0526 @imdefonothere ⠀ to be added comment here! ♥︎ ృ

my masterlist and the guidelines!⠀꒰ THE PLAYLIST ꒱

IN THE SILENCE OF LOVE, hate sometimes echoes louder.

the only sentence you heard being whispered against your ear before you felt your wrists being locked behind your back, just like your ankles—as you were thrown into the lake. sinking immediately, you felt your chest hurt, as if it might explode as you tried to scream and struggle inside the freezing water, drowning.

fear, despair, anger. a mix of emotions rising through your mind, making you go crazy in your last attempt to breathe. you would never return to what you were.

death.

your heart raced when you woke from your sleep, panting and sweating as if you were being warned, as if your subconscious needed to tell you something, something you chose not to listen to. “jesus...” a long sigh escaped your lips in an attempt to calm down, a hand going towards your chest. “i’m fine... i’m fine, it was just a stupid nightmare.” you tried to convince yourself before looking at the digital clock on the nightstand. 11am, you overslept.

the noise inside and outside the house was noticeable, which was nothing new when you had two energetic little girls in the house who woke up early in the morning. brushing your teeth was a reflective task when you were thinking so much, almost forgetting what happened yesterday, but you couldn’t completely forget it even if you wanted to.

no one would ever know about it, perhaps for the sake of your own reputation. at best, you would only be kicked out of your house if your mother knew that you came in bob’s car late at night without his fiancée around or anyone else.

you just had to not show that there was anything different, so she could live in her fantasy of a perfect family. as if she hadn’t been a sinner since the day she got pregnant by your father in a one night stand. what a hypocrite, demanding of you what she did not do. you had to roll your eyes in the mirror when you thought about it.

“you woke up... almost lunch time.” your mother grumbled bitterly when she saw you yawn into the kitchen. there was always a tension in the room when it was just you and her, as if the light had been sucked out even when it was daylight. you heard the judgment even when she was just being sarcastic and mean to you because she could be.

a wry smile crept onto your lips, your eyes falling to your feet as you walked to the fridge, wanting to hydrate your dry throat from the time you had that nightmare. “yeah, good morning to you too.” your attempt to avoid any conflict was the only thing you knew how to do since you were thirteen, probably, it was the most sensible way to act.

but, she was never satisfied. work hard, work hard and it’s still not enough, why can’t you be what she wants? it’s so simple, just do it. “come home from church alone last night?” the question made you stay silent for a moment, drinking the water with your back to her in the same way she had her back to you while cutting some vegetables.

“yes. i’ll meet mrs. reynolds at church again today.” it wasn’t the first time you lied about something, strangely it felt better to lie whenever she used that tone of voice where you didn’t know if she wanted to kill you or not, it was hard to understand her when she seemed to want to see you confused. “i’m not gonna have lunch, i can buy something to eat later.”

just like your silence from before, your mother also fell silent, the only noise in the kitchen being the sound of the knife hitting the wood of the board where she was cutting carrots on top. “don’t come back late, your sisters only sleep when you get home.” she said coldly, still with her back to you even as you walked past her. “and if the neighbors see you coming home late, you know what happens, so don’t do it.”

“i know, i’ll be back before dark.” it wasn’t like it would take that long to help mrs. reynolds at church, you’d be home early and could just... stay in your room alone and quiet until dinner. but, let’s face it, mrs. reynolds could probably go on for, at least, four hours talking nonstop about absolutely any subject. she talked to you more than your own mother, how funny.

later.

2pm, the sun was shining through your bedroom window when you finished putting on your dress and went out, telling your mother that you were going to the church to help mrs. reynolds like you had said to her before. with a not very pleasant look, the older woman nodded, but not before muttering a: “what a weird dress.” as if she wasn’t the one who bought it for you.

like any other day, you ignored her before walking past your father—watching the news in the living room with one of your younger sisters sitting next to him. a smile played on your lips, thinking about how similar they were. “hey, hey... where are you going?” the little girl almost jumped off the couch the second she saw you heading towards the door.

curious and energetic, the kind that probably had the energy to spend an entire day running around the yard if your parents didn’t set limits on her. “church. why?” you answered her, looking down trying to hide the smile from before.

“can i go with you? please, please, please... i promise i’ll behave!” she was almost begging, but your father quickly got up from the couch and lifted her into his arms as if the short little girl was a sack of potatoes that he had placed easily over his shoulder—which earned him a harmless, half-angry snort of protest from her.

“leave your sister alone, you’re not going anywhere now, young lady.” he said playfully, still with her over his shoulder as he turned to wink at you and whisper a: “go.” without a doubt, perhaps your father was the only adult there who could show his affection without hurting someone first. honestly, not even you were like that sometimes, you couldn’t escape your mother’s blood running through your veins.

without saying anything, you walked out the front door, calmly, as if you were going for a walk—which you should have been doing if his car wasn’t waiting for you at the end of the street. always on time, you thought. you had to look around surreptitiously, making sure no neighbors were watching while trying to find a reason to simply talk about you and use your name with blasphemy.

bob saw you in the rearview mirror, pulling his cap off his face as he leaned back against the leather seat. he could have been a gentleman and opened the door for you, but he knew all too well that you didn’t want to be seen with him. you were young, untouched, naive, everything he hadn’t been in a long time, you were like fresh air to someone who hadn’t breathed in a long time.

he knew he couldn’t stay. he couldn’t let himself be enchanted by you, not when he had a fiancée. he was going to get married in a few months and his parents were counting on it, a good marriage, with a woman devoted to god who... didn’t know him, but liked what she saw for an hour or two a day. he never said he loved anyone, that said more about him than anything else could.

what could he do? he was always trying to be what he wasn’t, trying to be the version that pleased his parents—that pleased his father, as it should be. he had to be what his older brother wasn’t.

“escaping from the cops?” a nasal laugh escaped him as you sat next to him in the passenger seat. different from what he was used to, in a simple conversation you seemed to see him as he wanted to be seen, as a person beyond his faith.

“more like escaping from my family, but... yeah, almost like that.” a small smile appeared on your lips, but you hid it, looking forward as you buckled your seatbelt. then, your nose caught a whiff of a different smell, a smell you had smelled every now and then when your father was alone in the garage fixing the car. he wouldn’t let anyone in until he was done. your eyes curiously scanned around, stopping at the open pack of cigarettes on the dashboard. marlboro red.

despite the attention he kept on the road, he noticed where you were looking and took out a cigarette, placing it in front of you. “want one?” the second he offered, you quickly denied it and pushed his hand back a little with your index finger. “right, no damaged lung for you, i guess... that’s kinda nice of you.” it was a stupid joke, he didn’t talk like that around other people, but it was good to see when you tried to hide a smile or a laugh for something he said.

“it’s called healthy behavior.” you joked back and he could see how, slowly, you were letting him see beyond the expressions of boredom and silence that were characteristic of when you didn’t feel comfortable enough to say something. he had watched you before, several times, with caution, but curiosity and something else he didn’t dare to think about.

“healthy behavior, huh?” he agreed, but couldn’t help himself and ended up laughing while scratching his chin. you noticed that this was a recurring habit of his. “yeah, i’m sure you have a super healthy behavior... like, you stare at people, don’t smoke and eat all your veggies, that’s one way to put it, kid.”

kid. he called you that and probably, that was the first time you really paid attention to the fact that the two of you weren’t exactly close in age. 32, ten years age gap, it was almost funny to think about it—you barely talked to guys your own age, suddenly you were in the car of someone ten years older than you. but, there was nothing wrong with that, right? right? guys can be friends with girls too, even if you’ve been taught to think otherwise.

or, perhaps, being 22 didn’t mean you had the mind of a woman of that age when ignorance seemed to be a good thing. it means you’re still pure... and naive, and easy to manipulate or deceive, and easy not to question. stop. you sighed, but the smile on your face had already disappeared a few minutes ago.

“here we are.” his voice woke you from your brief trance of thoughts so fast that it was as if a billion tabs were open in your consciousness at the same time, almost like modern torture that you were responsible for doing to yourself. bob was no idiot, he noticed your silence and the change in expression as soon as he parked his car. “hey, are you okay?”

you licked your lips, staring at your fingers before turning your neck towards him and trying the best reassuring smile, which wasn’t always so reassuring. “yeah, i’m okay.” lying was a sin, so why did you still attend church knowing that you wouldn’t be saved in the end? no one was there really believing that they would.

bob nodded, but from the way his eyes lingered on you, there was something you weren’t telling him and he wasn’t going to try to make you say it, not now. “fine. i’ll ride you home later... i’m helping my dad with the church garden, but as soon as you’re done, let me know and we can go.”

you couldn’t say anything other than thank him in a low tone as you got out of his car and go into the church. everything was silent and clean, freshly cleaned, you could smell the cleaning products. the closest noise was outside, where you guessed the garden was, but the rest? just silence, a melancholy silence.

your eyes slowly landed on a painting of the last supper, right next to you. on the small table below it with an empty plate and a golden cup, you observed it and noticed small flaws in the painting. some colors and lines seemed different from the original work, but it was still harmonious in itself, the flaws made it something unique. “robert who painted it.” the female voice suddenly echoed behind you, you didn’t even hear her footsteps, or you were too focused to hear anything other than the beating of your heart. “i’m sorry, dear, did i scare you?”

“no, i... i was just looking at it, i’m fine, mrs. reynolds.” you answered her, but your heart was still racing as you stepped away from the painting on the wall to stand closer to the woman. mrs. reynolds was a good woman, always elegant and kind, you never heard anything shady about her and in a community where everything could be a reason, not hearing anything bad about someone was actually a good sign. “so... was it robert who painted it?”

he painted pictures. that was something, of course, he reproduced the painting of the last supper, but there was a touch of his own to it, like the subtle changes that he knew no one would notice if they didn’t look at it for a while.

“yes, he took art classes in high school and really enjoyed painting, it’s a shame he stopped. i always thought he had talent, but his father wanted to... change things a little.” she stopped talking quickly, giving a soft cough before touching your shoulder and turning you to face the opposite side of the painting. “come on, dear, you need to help me organize the choir for the weekend.”

god knows you didn’t want to think so much about what you knew before, but how could you not? honestly, you didn’t think a man like him would have such ease in being an artist. but, he was. a great artist, by the way, and this seemed to always be hidden by a thick layer of intimidation that he wore as if it were his favorite perfume. everyone had a different side to what they showed, his surprised you.

hearing what his mother said about him made you think that you didn’t know much beyond his name and who he was son of, that’s all. robert reynolds, the pastor’s son. he wasn’t just that, you could see it, even if you didn’t know what was beyond. you wanted to see everything, everything that was about him, no matter how dangerous and stupid it was, the fun was in the challenge.

“well, i think we’re done... thank you, sweetheart, you’re a great helper.” mrs. reynolds said as she placed the last piece of paper inside a black folder. each paper had the lyrics to the song the choir would sing next sunday, but you had to make changes—that’s why she needed your help, she wasn’t good at using the church printer and she could have asked anyone else for help, but why not you?

“it’s great to help you, mrs. reynolds.” your polite words made the woman smile. she spent most of her time thinking that she wished her youngest son had a wife like you, but benjamin seemed to care more about his video games than his responsibility to the church and god. you were too good for the boy and she, as a mother, recognized that.

at least, robert would have a good marriage, since his older brother was lost in sin and his younger brother... wouldn’t find anything steady any time soon. she was trying to settle for that.

“oh, before i forget... give your mom a hug for me and apologize to her for keeping you here for so long, she must be worried when you take time to get home.” yeah, sure... although you thought your mom appreciated it when you were away from her sometimes. “and go with god, my dear, may he protect you until you get home.”

she hugged you. despite the awkwardness, you hugged her back gently and forced a sweet, but confused smile, pulling away still uncertain of what had just happened. “amen, mrs. reynolds... uh, see you soon.”

as you walked out of the church, a thought came to your mind. you remembered that even that sweet lady had not been free from the rumors that always seemed to follow people around here—as you had previously thought. it had been a while, but you vaguely remembered hearing your mother and aunt talking about how mrs. reynolds had wanted a daughter, but never had one... so, three sons.

perhaps, this was directly linked to the affection she felt for you, which was strange, but curious at the same time. but, as for incessant thoughts, you already had enough, you didn’t need more.

for now, your task was just to look for bob, wherever in the garden he was, his car was still there, at least. the sooner you get home, the better. you’ll be able to distract yourself, avoid social interactions, and think a lot less. the problem was when things liked to... get drastically worse for you in the blink of an eye, this week was definitely not yours.

you felt a headache starting right in the center of your forehead, body going limp, legs feeling weaker as your hands began to shake. just walking started to be a difficult task, as if your head was way too heavy and your vision was too dark to see where you were going. oh, you didn’t have lunch, you didn’t have breakfast, not even the holy spirit could keep you on your feet when you didn’t do the bare minimum. surprising how you hadn’t passed out before.

you leaned against a wall and closed your eyes, stroking your forehead as you tried to stay calm, with a real fear that you would simply pass out right there—that’s when the strap of your bag slipped off and fell to the ground, the noise attracted bob’s attention who was approaching.

when he saw that it was you, he almost ran towards you and put one of his hands on your back, pulling you closer. “hey, hey... what are you feeling? are you feeling sick?” he immediately became concerned, starting to stroke your back with his eyes a little wide, waiting for you to say something quick. “you look pale as hell, come here.”

he pulled you even closer, using his fingers to lift your chin and make you look at him, trying to get you to answer him right away before he did something about it himself and carried you bridal style into the car. “i’m... i’m fine, just a little dizzy.” he almost laughed bitterly, not believing your answer for even a fraction of a second.

“have you noticed how many times you say you’re fine?” he arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. “and a little dizzy? your bag fell and you almost hit the ground with it. when was the last time you ate, girl?” great question, if you weren’t feeling sick you would have thought of a way to get away from it.

“i didn’t. the whole day.” bob’s eyes almost popped out of his head and it made you think he was going to give you a worse lecture than your parents could ever give you, but he just kept quiet and ran his fingers through his hair, still looking at you very seriously. his expression changed so quickly it was almost scary.

“to the car. now.” he just pointed to his own car and let go of you, letting you go while he bent down to pick up your bag from the ground. as soon as you got in and sat in the passenger seat, bob placed your bag on your lap and continued to look at you with that eyes. “the seatbelt.” he said before closing the door and walking around to get into the car.

you did what he said faster than you thought you would, following him with your eyes before he sat down in the driver’s seat and you shamefully looked away. the dizziness was still there, you still felt weak, but at least you were sitting up now and didn’t have to worry about fainting. however, the silence inside the car disappeared when you noticed that he didn’t take the same route he had taken to take you home before.

“where are we going?” your eyes flicked towards the window, looking the opposite way he was going—your mind already starting to race again as you shifted in your seat, practically trying to ignore your weakness.

“calm down,” bob was quick to answer you, placing a hand on your knee as he tried to make you look less restless. he was just trying to do something, or rather, trying to make sure you didn’t die. “i’m just taking you to eat something in the city. i’m not taking you home like this, your parents won’t like it.”

your parents won’t like it. your parents wouldn’t like any of this, not you in his car, not you talking to him, not you even getting close to him, but he wouldn’t know about it, just like your parents wouldn’t know about him. it wasn’t a dirty little secret, but it was a secret, a secret you agreed with yourself was best kept. modesty aside, you know you’ve become good at keeping secrets over the years.

“in the city? isn’t it... i don’t know, weird?” it wasn’t a loud question, you almost whispered as you stared at his hand on your knee, but he didn’t do anything to change that, in fact, his calloused fingers just tightened their grip a little more.

the silence lasted inside the car for a brief moment, until he took his hand off your knee as if nothing had happened. “is it weird that i don’t want you to die of malnutrition?” he could even pretend he didn’t, but you both knew why that felt weird. “just... relax, it’s not like people we know will see us together, it’s no big deal, actually, we’re fine.”

he was right, to a certain extent. there was nothing wrong with all this, but you still didn’t want people to see the two of you together... what if they talked about it? what if you became everything you were taught to fear? your chest hurt just thinking about it. so you shouldn’t think, not now. the city—or rather, its center—was far from where you lived, no one would see it, no one would know.

it was something so... small, but it seemed so big to someone who had never really had it. you won’t expect him to understand, nor did you understand.

he left you alone in the car when he went out to buy hot dogs at a stand near the lake. the town didn’t seem as quiet as your neighborhood, but it was calm, with bright lights almost blinding you and the loud noise of cars coming and going. you rested your head against the window, watching him as you thought he was trying to take care of you, in his own way.

bob couldn’t deny it, he had been very worried when he saw you like that earlier. you had to be an idiot to go a whole day without eating, believing that this could be even slightly positive when you literally simply forgot to eat. you could have fainted, hurt yourself, and so many other things that he avoided thinking about the possibilities.

nonchalantly, he walked back. carrying three hot dogs, he noticed the confusion on your face. “why three?”

“two are yours.” he pushed them towards you, almost as if it was obvious that they were for you. “what? you haven’t eaten all day, don’t tell me a hot dog will be enough. you better eat it all or i’ll throw you into the lake.” the small smile that appeared on her face made him smile too, but he quickly covered it up. “stop laughing, i’m serious!”

his fake anger only makes you laugh a little harder, biting into one of the hot dogs as you looked away towards the lake you could see through the windshield. “would you really throw me in the lake?” it was a little question just to tease you, though you can’t help but remember the nightmare you had. the lake and... everything else, it doesn’t matter anymore, you just got scared by it.

“if you don’t eat it all, yes.” he let his smirk show a little more as he sat down on the seat again, starting to eat his hot dog and letting the silence welcome the two of you.

the lake cut the city in half, you remembered walking with your parents around here when you were a child, but as you grew up, your parents moved to the rural side and consequently, walking along the lake became something that no longer happened. your sisters were babies, they needed care and you could understand that your parents’ attention was no longer yours.

there was a certain nostalgia there if you looked long enough, as if you could still hear and see perfectly a time in your life that you missed.

slowly, you finished your first hot dog and it wasn’t surprising, but he was right about one hot dog not being enough, even after devouring the first one, you were still hungry. a chuckle escaped him as he looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, he felt more relieved to see you eating like you should have done before.

“this lake seemed bigger when i was a kid.” bob grumbled, letting you know that you probably shared the same feeling when you looked at the lake, even though you hadn’t said anything about it, he could kind of tell on his own. “you know... my older brother used to bring me to ride my bike with him ’round here.” he laughed to himself. “that’s how i got my first broken bone... my left arm at eight.”

he was opening up, somehow, telling you something he didn’t usually show he missed. “my brother was so desperate that he cried more than me... afraid that our parents would freak out on him.” sweet memories for him, he kept each of these in a special place in his mind, trying not to forget them over the years.

you turned a little more towards him, curiously staring at him as he spoke so genuinely about it. “i don’t remember meeting your brother... i mean, not the older one.” your words made his smile grow a little weaker, he had to sigh, there were too many thoughts in his mind about the matter.

“yeah, he... left the city about seven years ago.” it was like seeing through the surface, the subject seemed complex to him and you would never force him to talk about it. but, bob still had a little bit of it stuck inside him, no matter how much he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to disguise it. was still there when he slept, was still there when he woke up. “i think he moved to chicago... or something, it’s been a while since i last heard from him.”

the gears in your mind worked and you were able to understand that the relationship between his older brother and the rest of the family seemed troubled, so they all seemed to ignore his existence, but bob couldn’t do it, he secretly refused. he would never do anything his parents did to a son, it was just too late now.

“i see.” you said quietly, wrinkling the bridge of your nose as you finished eating your hot dog—you felt a little sorry for him, wondering what could be going through his mind.

he coughed, fingers stroking his chin in the way you’d seen before. “anyway... i’m gonna throw this trash away.” he started picking up the hot dog wrappers. “you can come with me if you want, we can take a look at the lake.” his offer was way too tempting when you noticed that you felt much better than before, of course you accepted, already getting up from your seat.

the breeze of the wind against your face made you sigh, opening your arms a little as if you were free, finally feeling free and it was... good, like eating too much ice cream on a hot day, was what you needed. you didn’t even know what you were thinking, but it felt good in your mind.

“don’t walk too fast... you might almost fall to the ground again.” he teased, tossing the wrappers into the nearest trash before shoving his hands in his pockets to walk beside you. “what happened to all that talk about this being weird, huh?”

the part near the lake was a little darker, probably because of the trees covering the streetlights, it was almost difficult to walk without tripping a little, so you ended up holding on his arm. he didn’t push you away, nor did he complain, he just kept you there. “it’s only weird if someone is watching us.” you answered him without much care, but you thought that perhaps you should have thought about your words better before... saying them out loud.

“it’s only weird if someone is watching us? damn, someone is getting bold with her words.” you were close, you could smell him when you were clinging to his arm. he smelled like his cigarettes, but it was a stronger smell than the one inside his car, you liked the way he smelled and the way it felt welcoming even when it shouldn’t be. the problem was probably with you, or him, or both, it was a matter of time until this question was answered.

it wasn’t that you were bold with words, you just... repeated what you thought you should. but if he thought you were bold, then maybe that could be a good thing, right?

“well... it’s getting late and i’m supposed to get you home safely. your parents will want my head.” he grumbled, staring at the lake, probably imagining that your parents really wanted to kill him for taking so long to bring you home. the point is: your parents didn’t know you were with him, even more so in the city center—you had created kinda a terrible situation to deal with.

you gently let go of his arm and moved a little closer to the edge of the lake, staring at the water as the noise of traffic seemed to be further away. “they won’t want your head,” anyone else wouldn’t tell and would let the story go, but why not tell him? you made it a secret, so he should know he was involved. “they don’t even know that you give me a ride or that i’m with you now. they won’t know, will they?”

he watched silently as you turned to him, staring at him as you said your words as if you were questioning whether or not he would tell your parents. bob didn’t want to get in the middle of your family relationship, if you didn’t tell them it was because you had a reason, he knew that better than anyone. “no,” he sighed. “but, that’s just one more reason for me to take you home now... or they’ll think about things i know you don’t want them to.”

and he was completely right. your parents couldn’t suspect that you were doing things you shouldn’t, your mother couldn’t.

you were inside his car again, the same thing, staring at the rearview as he drove back to the rural side. you heard him clear his throat to get your attention, but he spoke before you even had time to look at him. “i thought it’d be better not to ask, but...” bob didn’t know how to approach certain subjects, especially family ones. he didn’t talk about it comfortably most of the time, so he preferred to think it was the same for other people. “why didn’t you tell them about me? i mean, i'm just giving you rides... it’s no big deal.”

it was cute how he thought it didn’t mean anything when people would rather assume things of their own free will. “i get why you don’t want the neighbors to see us ’cause they’re such fuckin’ gossipers... but, your parents? they should know.” he didn’t want any trouble, but he was also worried about you and your reasons for not wanting to tell your parents something so simple.

this conversation wasn’t the kind of thing you enjoyed, it was the kind of conversation that made you feel a lump in your throat every time it started. “my dad maybe, but my mom? no way, you don’t know her.” you replied, not being able to look at him, just keeping your eyes on the road with an unhappy expression. “she’d make my life a living hell if she knew about this, ’cause nothing to her is truly innocent unless she decides it is. so, i won’t tell... and she won’t get the chance to treat me like i’m someone’s other woman.”

bob swallowed hard. he didn’t know it was like this for you. he figured there might be something more beneath the surface, but he didn’t realize you saw your own mother more as an enemy than a friend. once again, you had more similarities than he first imagined. “i’m sorry for... getting you into this, i guess.” he kept his eyes on the road like you were doing, he didn’t know the reason for the apology but he asked for it anyway, if he hadn’t offered the ride then you wouldn’t have had to lie.

“don’t apologize, bob.” you said almost immediately when he stopped at the red light. “i think you’re the last person who should apologize to me. that thing i feel everywhere... that heavy feeling in my chest disappears when you’re talking to me and i don’t know why, but it feels good. i like to be myself when i’m around you, so... you shouldn’t apologize for making me feel better.”

you couldn’t completely understand why you said all that so quickly, but you said it anyway, and you could see out of the corner of your eye how confused and surprised he was by it. “i...” bob didn’t know what to say to you, the words died on his tongue before he could just say them. but, he appreciated how vocal you were about how good he was doing for you, even though you had only spent a short time together.

“you don’t need to say anything.” you grumbled, he could feel that maybe silence was the best option now, not the bad silence, it was the comforting silence when you were really understanding each other without having to actually say something. he understood you, you understood him, one way or another, you chose to believe that there was some connection between you in this.

the silence lasted until you heard the car pulling up near your neighborhood, but not exactly there, not in the same place as before. he didn’t say anything for a moment, but you turned to look at him and he knew what you would ask. “wanna go to the city with me again? friday.” he asked, a little apprehensively but genuinely, you saw the way he was shaking his leg.

“bob... we shouldn’t,” you answered him immediately, but the look of “please” on his face almost made you forget what you had said. your voice trailed off, you just scratched the back of your neck and sighed, as if you were giving up. “fine. but, you know, no one can see us and... neither can my parents.”

he knew that, those were the rules you created for that and bob wanted to be close to you, he wasn’t going to deny that now, after what you said it made him realize that he felt the same way. “i know,” his leg stopped moving. “no one will see us, i promise.”

something in you told you not to do it, not to agree to just go out with him—because that’s what it was—he had a fiancée, but he hadn’t mentioned her, not once, as if he had forgotten her. you thought it was... something to think about, but you decided not to think about it, not so much.

“it’s okay.” you started to unbuckle your seatbelt, noticing how there was something in the air and it wasn’t exactly the smell of his cigarette that seemed stuck there.

“7pm, here. i think it’s safer here than... inside your neighborhood.” he had a point. within your neighborhood someone could see through the windows much more easily, now here... it was just dark, but not far, you could walk home and it would be as if nothing had happened. nothing had happened between you and him.

you thought about saying something but stopped, just nodding as you slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder to get out of the car. his eyes were on you and yours met his blue ones. how dangerous, you felt a chill in your stomach, something that shouldn’t be there, but suddenly it was.

his large hand reached your knee gently, squeezing it the same way he had done before and he leaned towards you. you should have moved away, but you didn’t, you stayed there, feeling his approach and enjoying it, enjoying the rush that surged through your body when he did it.

the tips of your noses touched, your breaths slowly mingled and you smelled that marlboro red scent again, his scent, the scent that meant him. a little more, a little closer, his lips touched yours in the gentlest way a touch could be, you closed your eyes and felt the sin, the best sin you ever committed, the one which made you feel good once again.

a kiss, just a little kiss, so quick you barely tasted it, but it was... reassuring, calming, real and you imagined it that way, he imagined it that way. that was a problem, you would drown in your own feelings, but he made you not want to think about it anymore.

to be continued...

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©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don’t use my work without my consent.

[spaceycat]

ɴᴏᴡ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ ... 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚎 ★彡

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: touch it by ariana grande (4:20) //✮⋆ ˚.ᐟ " cause every time i'm with you. i go into a zone, and i remember other places you wanna go. " 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

✰ pairing: sub!bob reynolds x fem!reader

bob is constantly touching you, like if he wasn't you'd simply disappear from reality. especially after you went on missions, since he isn't aloud on any - and he gets so pent up when you're gone.

when you come home, he's on you in an instant - pulling you away from the rest of the team with a gentle hand gripping onto yours. he just mainly wants to be used, by you. majority of the time, you agree. but right now?

you wanted him to see just how special he was.

you were laying down on your bed beside bob after you had your shower. running your hand through his soft, brown curls - his eyes fluttered as he leaned into your touch. you looked over him, trying to commit all of him to your memory, the small golden spark in his eyes that you could see if you looked close enough, the slope of his nose, the way his adam's apple bobs as he looks at you.

the atmosphere was soft, comforting in the late of night. something you desperately needed after the entire teams bickering about what went wrong on the mission. bob offered you that, even if the both were far from softness - his hands rough and calloused as he places a hand to your waist.

he muttered something under his breath saying that he missed you, missed your presence in the large tower - the shadows confronting, of what lies beneath the surface of your boyfriend's thoughts.

you wanted to divert those thoughts, show that he was capable of good and pleasure, the same pleasure he gave you. you moved to rest on your elbow, pushing bob onto his back - a gasp leaving his lips. "what are you-- what are you doing?" he adjusted himself in this new position, watching your hand slip under his sweatpants - wrapping around his soft cock. a whimper immediately extracting from him as his head tilted back, colliding with the soft silken pillows.

"wanna show you how much i care about you, robby." you placed a quick kiss to his jaw, "the care you deserve." you pumped his cock steadily, feeling the beads of pre-cum already leaking down from the tip as he easily hardened in your hand from your touch and from your soft words.

"you-- mph.. you don't need to do that." he couldn't help but buck into your warm hand, it was involuntary - yet contradicting to his previous words. encouraging you on more.

you peppered kisses all over his face, to the small freckles that littered his face, his jawline, the tip of his nose, finally kissing his lips - bob couldn't help but lean up into your kiss wanting more, wanting everything. you felt his tongue licking at your lips, you eagerly opened your mouth in reciprocation. the kisses were heated and open-mouthed, a bit of spit dripping out of the corner of bob's mouth as his teeth and tongue clashed against yours - your hand slipping out of his sweatpants, the loss of contact making him whimper against your lips once more.

you pulled back to catch your breath for a moment, your mind took note of how bob chased your lips, his own spit-soaked and kissed red. you didn't get a moment to catch your breath, his hand moving to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you back in without a second thought and the familiar heat returned. he let out a soft whimper, bob's other hand slipping underneath your shirt to palm at your tits, the feeling grounding in a strange way. his touch haphazard as he got lost in you, your gaze.

bob then moved to kiss at your neck, moving towards your collarbone - peppering kisses there as his eyes looked up into yours, flashing innocence and something deeper.

yearning, want, no not want. need.

"can i?.." he muttered against your collarbone, "i-i really wanna see you." you nodded, "words?' "yeah, go ahead robby." you ran your hand through his brown curls again, watching as he pulled your shirt off you - looking over you, his lips parted, breath heaving. "pretty.." he muttered, more to himself than you - hands moving over the scars that littered your body from past missions and experiments, paying attention to every one. he didn't see you as a monster, or a villain - because he understood, he's lived in the same shoes and he'll kiss every scar until you knew that you shouldn't see yourself in such a demeaning way.

he then looked up at him, this gaze experimental and mischievous - as he wrapped his lips around one of your perked nipples, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as heat enveloped it. your hand tightened in his hair, earning a soft groan from his lips - feeling the vibrations.

you then moved your hands back down to his sweats, pushing down the fabric of them and his boxers - his hard, neglected cock shining in the dim light of the moon looking sickeningly mouth-watering. you pushed up his sweater, revealing his toned abdomen which is a sight you really love to see especially with him suckling on your tits like your a goddess but also to prevent cum from spilling onto the fabric, because bob was known to cum a shit ton during sex and making messes was his forte and you weren't really in the mood for cleaning the bedsheets or yet another one of his sweaters because of one of your rendezvous.

his hips were bucking up before you even touched him, his mouth moving to your other tit - placing a hand to your waist to make you look at him again. you looked down at him, his eyes seeking praise.

"you're being so good, sweet boy." the pet name made him ever the more eager to please. you started to pump his cock slowly, taking note of how his mouth faltered - just for a moment, something flashing in his eyes.

your pace increased around his cock, focusing around the sweetly red coloured head. the feeling made bob release your nipple from his touch, head resting against your shoulder as he regained his breath - lips parted and mouth panting against your scarred skin, drool dripping out of his mouth now, collecting at his jaw.

"look, robby." you cooed, "look at how much your leaking." your words alone made him whimper loudly, he shakily turned his head around. looking at your hand wrapped around his cock, pre-cum spilling from his tip over your hand, making your hand wet and the vein on his cock glisten in. "oh, fuck-- mph, god--" whimpers practically spilled from his mouth, head falling back again.

"mm-- gonna.. baby, i'm- oh god you feel so good." he was babbling now, words coming out of his mouth before thinking - his brain not filtering or registering. his hands clawing at your shoulders, wrapping around your waist to be stabilised.

"let go, wanna make you feel good." you placed a soft kiss to his lips, his hand reaching and pulling you back in as his whimpers were muffled by your lips - he then spilt over your hand, thick hot ropes of cum making a mess of his stomach, some spilling onto the sheets. "fuck-- fuck-" he moaned out against your lips, breath panting into your open mouth. his thighs were practically shaking, hips bucking into your hand. he slowly came down from his thigh, his cock still pumping out a few spurts that landed on his inner thighs or abdomen.

"you still with me?" you noticed his fucked out expression, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. he simply nodded, no words coming out. his eyes flicking up to yours, watching as you scooped some of his cum from his thigh placing it to your lips - extracting a moan from yourself. "taste." you held your fingers up to his mouth and he eagerly brought them into his own, warm enveloping your fingers. you pulled your spit-soaked fingers from his mouth. he just stared at you, wide eyed.

"c'mere.. wanna make you cum on my tongue" bob pulled you to straddle his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs.

the next day, walker looked that at the two of you weird for the entire day because the two of you weren't exactly the quietest.

✰ a/n: uhm i guess this is kind of breaking my hiatus!! i have a couple of posts lined up, still feeling unmotivated but this came to me in a dream!!!! i <3 pathetic men..

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Why Aren’t You Sweating, You Menace?

Summary: You cannot handle this damn heat! You’re cranky, you’re melting, and Bob is not affected. Fuck him for that. 

Warning: nothing really just sass and fluff

You felt like you were on fire.

You. Were. Melting.

You had to be in hell. An actual physical hell. The kind with sticky skin, thigh burn, the hum of three fans going at once, and the deep betrayal of your own body producing sweat just from breathing.

And of course, there was Bob just standing in the doorway of your bedroom, all golden skin and smug, sipping casually from a glass of ice water like some kind of air-conditioned Greek god. Not a single bead of sweat on him.

You sat up, squinting through the heat haze, and glared. “Why are you like this?”

He blinked. “Like what?”

You gestured at him wildly. “This. All fresh. All dry. All golden. All smug. Are you secretly refrigerating your blood?”

Bob glanced down at himself, completely unbothered. “I’m just not that hot.”

“I’m going to beat you up.”

He laughed, that bastard, and strolled over to toss you a cold water bottle like he wasn’t committing a personal hate crime. “I’m literally trying to help you survive.” You caught the bottle and pressed it to your neck with a dramatic groan. “You're a menace. An untouchable, heat-immune menace.” Bob leaned against the dresser, shirtless and glowy like a summer beer commercial. “I think you meant to say hero.”

You gave him a flat look. “No, I meant a heat demon sent to mock me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize my body temp was a relationship dealbreaker.”

“It is when I have to sleep next to a damn radiator. You rolled over last night and I almost had a heatstroke. I thought I was dying. I saw light.” Bob walked over, kneeling beside the bed, eyes full of that infuriatingly soft affection. “Babe. Sweetheart. Love of my life. You’re dramatic.” You yanked the pillow over your face. “Don’t sweet-talk me while I’m actively melting. I will throw you out the window.”

He scoffed, “I’d survive the fall.” Muffled under the pillow “That’s exactly my problem.” He plucked the pillow off your face and smiled down at you. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m boiling. I’m thirty seconds from filing a formal complaint with the sun.” He grinned. “Want me to fly up and punch it for you?” You paused. “…Maybe. Depends how hard you punch.” Bob leaned forward, bracing one arm beside your head as he kissed your forehead. “You’re adorable when you’re cranky.” You rolled your eyes but let your forehead rest against his collarbone. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me.” You sighed. “Unfortunately.”

Bob eased you back against the cooling sheets he got gor your shared bed, reaching over to grab a chilled washcloth from the mini freezer he’d installed just for moments like this. He pressed it to your collarbone and you gasped, spine arching off the bed.

“Better?” he asked, smirking.

“Only because you’re finally useful.”

He trailed the cloth slowly down your chest, eyes lingering on every twitch and flinch of relief. “I could be more useful. Want me to cool you down properly?”

You gave him a suspicious side-eye. “Robert.”

“Scientific,” he said solemnly. “Completely medical. I have a whole protocol.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re pretty when you glisten,” he murmured, voice dropping. “All flushed and soft and mad at me.”

You groaned but curled your fingers into his hair anyway, tugging him closer. “Just don’t be all smug about it.”

“I make no promises, darlin’,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. You kissed him--hot and slow and borderline dangerous--and pulled back with a sharp little bite to his lip.

“But if you so much as breathe on me too warmly tonight while I’m trying to sleep--”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he swore immediately. “Or in the freezer. I’ll become a popsicle. Blast me with every fan we own.”

“Smart boy,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his chin.

Bob grinned and kissed your hand. “Anything for my gorgeous, furious, heatstroke petal.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really, really am.”

_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_

Later that afternoon, it somehow got worse.

You heard the hum of the refrigerator and wanted to scream. Scratch that; you wanted to live inside the refrigerator. More specifically the freezer, curl up next to the frozen peas. But no. You were a mortal. Trapped in an apartment that felt like Satan’s breath.

And Bob? Of course he was just peachy keeny.

You glared at him from your blanket-less, sheet-less, dignity-less position on the couch. You were laid out starfish-style in a tank top and a pair of his boxers, one leg twitching with irritation.

And Bob...Bob was at the counter drinking tea. Hot tea.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snapped. “Tea? Hot tea!? In this weather?”

He blinked, like you weren’t three seconds from violence. “It’s peppermint. Regulates body temp.” You flipped him off without a second glance muttering, “Oh, go regulate this.”

And then--he chuckled.

You sat up so fast the room spun. “Don’t laugh. Don’t you dare laugh while I am actively considering peeling off my skin like a banana.”

He approached slowly, mug in hand, utterly smug. “You seem a little… testy.”

“I am testy,” you growled. “I’m hot, I feel sticky, I’m one centimeter away from insanity, and you-” you jabbed your finger at him-- “are walking around looking all golden like you’re in a goddamn hydration ad.”

He smirked. “Golden, huh?”

“Don’t you dare turn that into a compliment.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” He paused. “Well... Maybe just a little.”

You flopped back with a groan. “I hate summer. I hate you. I hate existing.”

He crouched beside you and set his mug down. “You don’t hate me.”

“Right now? I do. With every overheated cell in my body.”

He pressed the back of his hand to your cheek. “You’re really warm.”

“Gee. Thanks, Sherlock.” You batted his hand away. “Don’t touch me. I’m feral. I will bite.”

He yanked his hand away from you and nodded, “Noted.” You gave him a side glare. He was watching you with that soft, patient look. The one that made your frustration feel valid instead of ridiculous. “Why aren’t you miserable?” you asked, suspicious. “You’re not even sweating.” Bob shrugged. “Superhero perks, got that temperature regulation built in me now.”

“I hate you.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s still true.”

He grinned, leaned in a little. “You want to yell at me some more, or would you prefer pampering from your golden, heat-resistant boyfriend?” You narrowed your eyes. “Define ‘pampering.’” He pulled out a frozen washcloth and a popsicle. “Tribute from your humble servant.”

“…I still hate you.”

“I can work with that.” He pressed the cloth gently to your neck. You hissed. “Okay. Maybe I won’t bite you yet.” He kissed your temple. “You get like this every time you’re too hot. It’s okay.” You opened one eye. “You mean murderous?” He grinned. “I’d call it something more like…spicy.” You snorted despite yourself, lips curling. “Bob?”

“Yeah?”

“If you even breathe warm air near me tonight-”

He's quick to cut you off with a very understanding nod “I’ll sleep on the balcony. With the ice packs. Hell, I’ll build a shrine to central air gods.” You took the popsicle from his hand and nibbled at it like royalty. “You’re still on thin ice.” He winked. “Oh, what a fitting phrase darlin.”

__-__-__-__-

If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

Tagging:

@msfirth

@my-name-is-baby

@metalarmsandmanbuns

@live-love-be-unique

@disillusioniary

@you-bloody-shank

@sarcazzzum

@itsjustisa

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[sebsxphia]

husband bob who fingers his wife so hard she squirts and his wedding ring slides off 😂

(he makes her lick it clean after)

￫ authors notes: omg please, my dear anon! i giggled so hard, i love this so much! 🤭

￫ warnings: sex and squirting.

giggly sex with bob is not uncommon. as much as he can be mean dom bob, he’s also the most loving, soft and romantic lover you’ve ever met. on this particular occasion, he just wanted to finger his pretty little wife and have them squirt over his fingers before bed. he loves seeing you writhing with pleasure (from himself) more than anything.

as you reach your high and come over his fingers with dripping squirts and loud whines, bob coaxes you through it as he always does. “there’s my good girl. that’s it, keep goin’, darlin’. my pretty little wife is so good for me, o— oh—”

he watches with wide eyes from behind his glasses as his wedding ring slides off and falls onto the soaked towel below you. he continues to move his fingers inside of you and lets you ride out your continual high, but his lips have curled up into a small smile and he’s trying his hardest to hold back a small laugh.

as your eyes flutter open and shut, you catch sight of your husbands expressions and between heaving breaths, you pant out, “w— what? what is it?”

bob shakes his head, still with the twitching grin on his lips. “nothing, my darlin’. don’t worry, you’re doin’ so good for me, baby.”

“bobby!” you blurt out again, now with a curious expression forming.

his head drops and he finally lets out a laugh as he admits what’s just occurred. “you squirted so hard that my wedding ring fell off.”

you clasp your hand over your mouth and let out a bubble of giggles. bob lifts his head up, with bubbling laughter also coming from himself. his wedding ring is pinched between his fingers, with his chest flushed and rosy red up-to his cheeks. he leans over you to place a kiss to your lips, muffling your paired amusement ever so slightly.

“come ‘ere.” he breaks the kiss and presses his wedding ring to your lips. your tongue instinctively wraps around the warm and damp ring, occasionally letting yourself lick his fingers clean. “good girl. that’s my pretty little wife.” bob presses a soft kiss to your nose with a beaming smile still.

[thecowboyfiles]

￫ Description: Rhett takes you to a busy store and you start to slip.

￫ c/w: This contains age regression

￫ a/n: I know sex is what sells on this website but I really miss caregiver!rhett. no use of y/n, no pronouns, again contains non-sexual age regression

Being so far out of town and on a ranch, you don't run into too many people. That's how you both like it, a slow quiet life just you and the Abbott family.

Going into town was always a bit of an experience. It wasn't a big city by any means, but it was always busier than you expect. The hustle and bustle of the feed store almost males you dizzy. Does every single farmer in Wabang need to feed their animal on the exact same day?

You follows behind Rhett, probably looking like a lost puppy. You wish you were holding his hand, but he was on a mission, walking through the Aisles with so much purpose that you didn't even try.

When Rhett finally stops, inspecting a bag of bull feed, presumably making sure it's the right one, the pull of littlespace is much stronger than it should be. You bring your thumb up to your mouth but still have the sense of where you are and stop yourself from shoving it straight into your mouth like you want too. Instead, you try to satisfy the need by chewing on the nail.

Despite Rhett's preoccupied mind - he notices this little tic. " You feelin' small, bug?" he asks lowly in your ear.

You nod, too fuzzy to use your words and still chewing on your thumb nail.

"Okay, okay. Daddy's just gotta get a few more things and then I'll take you home. Can you be Daddy's big Bug Until we get back to the truck?"

It was almost as if Rhett wanted you to slip, refering to himself in the third person. You could feel tears stinging ar your tired eyes and that flood of emotions that always seemed to come with slipping into littlespace. "I wanna go daddy. I wanna go home." That slight whine and quiver in your voice is what makes Rhett put the bag back and squeeze your hand.

“Alright Darlin’ we’re going.” He assures, holding you close. To hell with the animal feed, it can wait, or Royal can go get it his damn self.

——

tagging @sebsxphia because I know how you feel about Rhett and Bug. 🥰

[38livesalone-has3cats]

Hi lovely! I have a request if you’re interested 🤔 I can imagine Bob Floyd misinterpreting the reader who is trying to flirt with him, he thinks the reader is wanting to ask him for Hangman or Roosters number 😂 at least until Phoenix sets him straight

Not Again (bob floyd x fem!reader)

warnings/tags: fem reader, mentions of drinking/alcohol, cursing? lol idk, (y/n) used x2, bob’s pov for just a few paragraphs, reader hating on jake seresin but not really<3

wc: 1.8k

a/n: thank you for the request oml this is soo cute :] this turned out way longer than i wanted it to be LMAO SORRY😭

The Hard Deck is loud as shit- you can feel the buzzing of the conversations happening around you. It’s hot out, but the cool air blowing in from the coast just outside keeps it from being miserable. Add the refreshing AC blasting and it’s all the perfect recipe for a packed bar.

You hadn’t come here for the loud atmosphere, of course; you’d come to hang with your best friend, have a few drinks, and admire the hotties in uniforms who frequent this spot. In fact, your friend is nudging your arm now, her eyes locked on the front doors.

“Oh my god, look.” She whisper-yells, a grin on her face. Your eyes find what she’s looking at, a new group of soldiers- pilots, guessing by their uniforms and the base close by. Beautiful, of course, they’re all attractive as fuck, but your eyes stick to one in particular.

He lingers towards the back of the group but still engages with the others with a lopsided smile on his face. He’s taller, lanky with a dash of muscle stretching under that uniform. He has an awkward energy about him but to be honest, that just makes you want him more.

His head turns and you rip your eyes away before he can catch you staring. You can feel a heat crawl up your cheeks.

“Jesus, I didn’t mean look for that long.” Your friend teases, her grin growing as you hide your face by gulping down your drink. “Which one were you looking at? The tall, loud one in the front is so fine.”

You chuckle, nodding slightly as you glance at the guy she must’ve been talking about. “He’s cute.” You shrug, chewing on the straw of your drink. “The one in the glasses.” You look from your friend to the pilots just as the cute one looks in your direction.

Your heart drops to your stomach and you turn to fully face your friend, who’s already laughing at what she saw. “Shut up. I’m about to kill myself.” You drop your forehead against her shoulder.

.

“So, what’re you staring at, Bobby?” Phoenix’s voice tears Bob out of his daze.

As soon as he’d walked in with the rest of the squad, he’d felt eyes on him. It wasn’t particularly unusual, being in uniform and with the loudest people he had ever met- they often got a few looks in public. He glanced around, catching sight of a girl sitting at the bar. He can’t help the way his heart stutters in his chest.

She was glowing. The light of the bar was dim, but the setting sun peeked through the open windows just enough to shine on her- for her, more like. She was easily one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen.

And it was clear she had been looking their way. Bob didn’t want to get his hopes up- of course she’d been looking, Rooster had burst through the front doors singing loud as hell. Bob tries to push the thoughts of her to the back of his head as he was pulled into a game of pool, but he can’t help but look again.

He watches as your eyes dart from Hangman to him and finally back to your friend. It’s clear you’re embarrassed he’d caught you staring. Of course, Jake fucking Seresin. Bob lets out a sigh, finally turning toward Phoenix.

“Nothin’. Just another girl staring at Bagman.” He huffs quietly as he sets up his shot, bending over the table. If Phoenix notices the extra bite to his tone, she doesn’t mention it.

..

“Go talk to him! I’m telling you, he cannot keep his eyes off of you.”

Your friend has only gotten more insistent with each drink she’s had, and you’re starting to listen.

The liquid courage in your system only fuels your desire for the pilot across the bar. You had caught him looking your way a few times, but he looked so grumpy. A furrow stuck in his brow, a slight pout carved into his lips. You chalked it up to him loosing his game of pool, but now his friends are singing and that same expression is on his face.

“I don’t know..” You chew on the inside of your lip, your eyes trailing over to the group again. Before you can even debate it, your friend is pulling you out of your seat. “Go, go, go. Don’t think, okay? Just do it. You only live once.” She grins.

“If this goes badly, we’re getting the fuck outta here.” You huff, turning towards the man you’ve been fantasizing about all night.

Your knees wobble anxiously as you walk- the alcohol in your system not helping either. You take in a deep breath, trying to look as put-together as possible; you straighten up your posture, puff out your chest a bit, and tilt your chin up.

You feel like a fool.

Even the alcohol flowing through you can’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks as you finally approach him. You’d gone around the back of their group, not wanting to walk through all of them.

Oh, wow, he looks taller up close. And he smells fantastic. Your heart thuds loudly in his chest as you realize just how blue his eyes are. His eyes- shit, he’s looking right at you and you aren’t sure if you’re breathing.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, yeah.” You want to slap yourself.

“Sorry, my name’s (y/n). I saw your group from across the bar, I really like your uniforms- are you pilots?” You see his brows twitch just slightly and you can’t tear your eyes from his broad shoulders as he rolls them back to fix his posture.

“Yeah- yes, we are. We’re with Top Gun. I’m Bob- my name’s Bob.” His lips break into a tentative smile as he speaks, his long fingers reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“Bob,” You repeat, your own smile growing, “Top gun. That’s impressive.” Everyone on the island knows about Top Gun, and how hard it is to get in.

The sound of giggles tear your attention from Bob and you find yourself glancing over his shoulder to see a few of his friends watching you two and laughing, sending a heat to your cheeks.

“T-thanks, I’m just a weapons system operator, though; I don’t do any of the piloting-“ Bob stops when he realizes your eyes aren’t on him. He turns his head and makes direct eye contact with Hangman- him and Phoenix are clearly laughing at Bob.

You look back to Bob, trying to ignore your racing heart. “No, that’s still really impressive. I could never-“

“Sorry to interrupt you, miss, but my friend’s name is Jake, and he is single. I’ve seen you looking at him all night, and you very pretty- I’m sure it’ll go well.” Bob’s lips form a thin line as he looks back to you, his chest suddenly feeling like it’s been carved out.

“I.. What?” Your heart drops to your stomach, your brows creasing.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He mumbles, sliding past you and towards the bar, leaving you standing there like an idiot- looking at his friends like they’ll have some explanation.

“The fuck?” The girl is already following after him, shooting you an apologetic glance. The guy- you’re assuming Jake- approaches you.

“Hello. So sorry about my shy friend over there- his brain shuts down around women.” Jake grins, confidence rolling off of him in waves.

“Right.” You aren’t quite sure what to say, so you give him some awkward wave before you’re trudging back to your friend at the bar. You aren’t necessarily devastated- but god, he was beautiful, and he had been looking at you all night. Were you reading into it too much? Maybe he wasn’t interested at all and was trying to be polite? You try to ignore the way your chest suddenly feels heavy.

You don’t make it far before you’re stopped my a hand on your arm.

You turn and meet the eyes of the woman from before, who’s already speaking to you.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you! I’m Natasha, and I’d like to formally apologize for my friend.” She’s smiling at you, and you realize Bob is standing a few feet behind her, his cheeks bright red- looking somewhat like a scolded puppy. “I swear he’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, and he’d love if you’d give him the chance to apologize.” As she speaks, she throws a firm look to Bob, who starts to resemble a kicked puppy.

“Oh- okay?” You laugh, incredulously- unable to process everything that’s happening right now.

Bob steps forward then, Natasha giving him a pat on the back before she leaves the two of you.

“I really am sorry, (y/n). Um, can we step outside to talk?” Bob’s head is ducked closer to you so you can hear him, but it’s still a struggle for your ears.

You agree, and the two of you find yourself standing beneath a neon sign, the sun mostly under the horizon by now; you both find yourselves laughing at the situation.

“I’m really embarrassed about all this- god, I’m so dense.” Bob sighs, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I just- you’re so beautiful I couldn’t even..” He trails off, and you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face.

He is absolutely adorable, every part of you is drawn to him. Like a moth to flame; he has this glow about him, like no matter how quiet he is, he’s the one lighting up the room.

“Can I get your number?” You manage to ask.

“Of course.” He’s replying quickly, already yanking his phone out of his pocket.

The two of you exchange information and chat a bit more before making your way back inside- you can’t abandon your friend, after all. His hand hovers over the small of your back as you cross the threshold until he’s letting out a small groan and covering his mouth with his hand.

“Bagman’s descended on your friend.” He mutters, voice full of disdain.

You aren’t sure what that means until your eyes find your friend at the bar. Mr Confidence. Jake. Bagman. His arm slung over your friend’s shoulders as they laugh together.

You shake your head, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as you watch the rest of their group approach Jake and your friend, surrounding them and ordering another round from Penny.

Jake's eyes find you two as you approach, his smile turning smug. "Baby on board! I wasn’t sure you had it in ya!”

“Thanks. Real supportive.” Bob mutters, motioning to Penny for a drink of his own. His hand drops back to hovering behind you; you decide to scoot just a little closer until he finally makes contact. He shoots you a soft smile and you can’t help the way your heart flutters.

No matter how awkward the interaction might’ve started as, now that you’ve got Bob in your grasp, you won’t ever let go.

[zottts]

todd fucking you in his fraternity hoodie… mmm yess ma’am!! like you have a shower and all you can find is his hoodie

another little drabble where i just speak about this so i hope you like it

okay so lowkey i like to think he probably spilled something on you like a drink to make you take that shower (it was probably on purpose) because he isn't sorry AT ALL and you can tell too so he offers to let you take a shower, he has a shower in his room

you do and you find his clothes, aka his hoodie and a pare of sweats or whatever. and he finds you in his clothes really hot like REALLY hot and he just wants to get those off, he wanted to get your clothes off in the first place anyways....

he is so quick to get you in his bed and those sweats OFF. but he wants to keep that hoodie on, seeing you in something thats his own just makes him super horny

he also just says you look really hot while fucking you relentlessly, like OVER AND OVER "you're so fucking hot like this" right into your ear and saying shit like "let everyone hear you"

this is super duper short buttttt i promise ill do more soon

i love this freaky man that gets like 10 minutes max of screen time!! LET ME AT HIM

[redhoodiuser]

Takes one to know one | Rhett Abbott/Reader

Rhett couldn’t play your games anymore, he needs you to know he lost.

word count: 1.5K warnings: none

note Find this fic on AO3 #hi haven’t written anything or been kissed in a long time. Sighs. Anyways happy yearner Rhett for those who celebrate. Mentions of God and subtly comparing love to religion. English isn’t my first language btw, hope you like it ^_^ !

While the moonlight couldn’t compete with the white lights turning the rodeo into a spectacle, only his reddening face looking at the ground once his eyes find you in the crowd. He fixes his hat before raising for your challenge, he licks his lips thinking it would distract you from noticing a smile on his face.

It was your favorite game, lowering your head, rising your eyebrows along with the corners of your lips and nodding once just to let him know you see him. That he’s doing a good job at not letting you see how his hand grips on his waist, how his breathing weights on his chest when you’re locked on his eyes.

You wore a tight long-sleeved shirt which color could be stained with wine and it wouldn’t show a difference. Dark red, maroon, Rhett knew about colors. It’s the type of detail it would make you compare it to a certain wine brand or his bruised hands after riding. Type of detail that doesn’t escape your ability to continue chatting. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Semi-finals had caught him on a cold night. Bull was rougher. His mind could’ve lingered a little longer on the top if it weren’t for the red lipstick painted on your face. The lights started to dim, and people began to fade.

Rhett’s questioned where would you go after this on the tip of his tongue but he was betrayed by his own body the moment he had you only meters away from him. People walking around your bodies like a river softening stones. His shoulders falling once your steps got you closer to him. He froze, keeping in mind the way your father whispered in your ear before the rodeo. He caught your mother’s disapproving eyes staring up and down and calculating just how much of a man he was that couldn’t measure to be even remotely deserving of capturing your eyes. He waited on you to make a move. Not as tough as people made him out to be.

Some say you reap what you sow. And your little eye game riled up his mind beyond forming any coherent word as you got closer. Maybe it was the moon dancing over the side you brushed your hair behind your ear. Maybe his breathing finally stopped and he had you confused with an angel all those years ago.

His clothes stuck to his body from the sweat, bringing out his broad shoulders and tightening around his chest. You swallowed, keeping posture before trying to meet his eyes but he was nowhere to be found. His gaze wandered the floor below and his fingers trailed his brown leather jacket. Boots tapping the dry sand he stood above, there wasn’t any escape and doe eyes stared at you caught on the brightness of your presence.

Then your greetings came as a whisper. Pride on his mouth was spit to the ground before he did something he’d be scared not to regret.

“Not bad,” you insisted as a wry smile adorned his face. As his features could be detailed closer and the skin below your nose tarnished hot from his breath. It was only a matter of time before he got so close he could see behind your façade. Shivers went down your spine steading you to the ground. Focusing on his eyes and the dim light reflecting distracted you from noticing them tracing your mouth. Pink painted his nose and cheeks as the wind blushed his face.

“Expected more” he recited with a low voice, while the grip on his jacket tightened. The results were enough for next round and the thought circles his mind as birds preying, he had been just enough, not good nor great. He swallows the thought before taking a pause to let the mix of hay, sweat and vanilla fill his lungs. The last scent makes him travel to the first and only time he had enough audacity to dare his nose trail the skin below your jaw. A grin lights his face remembering, like yours when it happened.

The kind of games that you played with him worked too well. The small balancing of your torso in place, waltzing to yourself before him, impatient. Something was between you two for years since you’ve started as a nurse in town. You faking you didn’t know what you were doing when you licked your lips staring him with a frown, confusing and intoxicating. It started to poison him the moment he saw you standing on the bleachers tonight. Losing temped him.

There hadn’t been a day now where the thought of tasting you wasn’t the only thought in mind. His family played dumb. Misplacing a plate on the fridge when he caught a bird outside the window that you told him about its legs automatically clamping on branches when they sleep so they don’t fall, his smile only raised concerns to his mother that he was slowly losing it. When you wore a dress tight on your torso and loose on your hips, cut a little above your knees, spotting him staring and smiled, making him miss the door on the store to end up on a wall, Perry only laughed. Now, jeans hugging your legs, arms behind your back, acting all innocent for him, his stupid causing a grin on you.

“Stop that” only making you frown from his stern shaking voice. “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean,” you tilted your head. Amusing yourself with the idea of riling him up without even a touch. The saintly woman you ought to be couldn’t let herself enjoy knowing the effect you had on him. He never stood a change under your voice, your gaze. Delighted by the desperate sight of a man finding little interest in praying to God, pleading to you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he held his fingers close to your waist, never quite reaching. “Once we do this, I don’t want nothing else”

He was tortured by your ever addicting laugh. Rhett should grab you but his hands stood still, he never waited on permission but any word from you could bring him to ruin. Anger filled his cheeks red trying to find the joke of of having him wrapped around your fingers.

“I want you,” consumed by the loss of his mind, surrendering himself to you. His hands began to shake in place, once you lowered your head to see them. Frowning further.

“What about Maria?” it came as a whisper again, tainted with mistrust. The first time he didn’t hear a gambler tone, or followed up by a topic changing the leading of the conversation as he caught you doing when he tried to flirt with you out front. He did once, thought he could get you easily. Then he got to know you and learned you loved proving people wrong about their expectations of you. It only made you stronger than smoking. He was the one frowning now, searching for the confident foe he made you out to be.

“What about her?”

“You’ve been in love with her since forever,” you reached for his fingers with yours, not reaching his palm. “When she looks at you, you’ll be done with me”

“Was a high-school crush,” he holds your fingers to lead them to his chest, not trying to hide the trembling of his hands. His heart raced on your palm and his eyes traveled from your golden rings adorning your hands to your eyes focusing on him. “I can’t anymore, I know I ain’t much. God’s honest truth that is. But I want all of you”

Rough voice against your tender lips. The tip of your noses lightly finding each other. Your eyebrows relaxed once under his eyes and the pressing of your lips goes unnoticed by the shadow casted from his hat. He takes it off with his free hand, when the right still steadies above your own. Daring to brush his thumb to bring you back. You begin to move your head softly. His head rested on the right side of his neck now, almost bowing.

“I should kiss that grin out of your face,” you manage to say and what kind of man was he to stop you.

“Should’ve done it sooner” before resting his hat on your head and reaching for your ear between his index and middle finger and allowing his thumb to play around your smiling cheek. He sighs when he realizes your free hand reaching for the back of his neck and bringing him closer.

“I hate you” was the last thing he heard before your lips greet his. Slowly finding your way against his mouth. He could taste the lipstick before you opened your mouth to taste his tongue.

The sweetest con often comes in the idea of an indefinite place of faith by someone else’s hands. His, bruised in purple and green with scratches he often downplayed their severity to calm you down, rough and slightly dirty fingers traced a path on the edge of your cheeks. The Rhett Abbott from everyone’s eyes could be careless, couldn’t be more different than the one whose hands slightly tremble when holding your face. You pretend not to notice how he crumbles from touching you, how his eyes tempest blue underneath your gaze.

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