#robert bob floyd fanfic

[bobgasm]

awards season | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader [admiral!bob] word count: 6129 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], dom/sub elements, praise kink, superior/insubordinate, power play dynamics, panty stuffing, buttplugs, reader gets tied up, lush vibrating egg, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, spanking as a punishment, choking, breeding kink, inaccurate naval knowledge, unprotected p in v sex, strip tease,

summary: in which you and bob have a private arrangement going on, but you can’t resist him at the navy’s awards and promotion ceremonies

author’s note: basically a follow up part of the snappening but is also a standalone. @attapullman don’t kill me for this. happy IBFF month everyone 🥳

oneshot | masterlist 

You were dressed to the nines. A gorgeous, expensive dress had been delivered to your apartment, courtesy of Natasha. She’d asked you to be her plus one to the Navy Honour’s ceremony, and who were you to say no? Javy and Bob were going to be there, obviously, but given the nature of your professional relationships to them, you all decided it was best if you went separately.

Tonight was technically your first public outing with Bob. You’d been on a couple of small dates, usually dinner at his place that wound up with you spending the night. But tonight you’d be seeing him outside of the small bubble the two of you had been living in. You wanted to look your best, and make it a night he’d never forget.

And you knew just the way to do that.

Natasha had done your makeup and the two of you had done a few shots while getting ready. She was dressed in her Navy blues, just like you knew Javy and Bob would be. 

Your dress was a red backless number and you had tape pretty much covering your chest to provide an easy no-bra look. Natasha had wolf-whistled when she’d seen you and you’d tried to adjust the neckline of the dress so it wasn’t sitting so low. You felt self-conscious.

Now you were arriving, walking arm in arm with Natasha as she spoke to various Captains and Admirals. You were polite, greeting them warmly.

“And who’s your date tonight?” Natasha was asked.

“This is my friend, Y/N,” she explained. 

You were sat at a table with Cyclone who continued to eye you throughout the night. Also at the table were a couple WSO’s who were prominent in their field, but you were more concerned with the fact that Bob and Javy sat at the next table over. 

“You look so fucking good tonight,” Bob told you later in the evening. 

He’d slipped into the empty seat beside you while Natasha was in the bathroom and the rest of your table had dispersed to speak with other people in attendance.

“Good,” you said smugly. “I wore it with the intent you’d have more fun removing it.” He chuckled and shot a look over his shoulder. “Where’s Coyote gone?”

“Probably to say the same corny shit to Phoenix.”

You laughed and reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip. “Your place or mine tonight?”

“Yours is closer,” he mused, leaning back in his seat. The length of his thigh pressed up against yours. It was as much physical contact as he was going to show in public, and you understood why. “Don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Just tonight or in general?”

“Tonight,” he clarified. “You look so fucking good.”

You laughed again. “You’ve already said that.”

“I’m a little drunk, whatever,” he dismissed, shifting in his seat.

“How much longer do you want to stay?” You asked him, hooking your ankle behind his leg running the top of your foot up and down his calf.

He reached for your glass of wine and finished it. “I’m good to leave when you are.”

“I’ll just send Natasha a text,” you replied, grabbing your phone from your clutch to send them a text. The chances that she’d already left with Javy were slim, but never zero.

Bob and I are leaving. Recommend going to Javy’s tonight x

You tucked your phone away and gave him a look. “I’ll meet you at my place?”

He nodded and watched you quickly leave. You assumed he ordered himself an Uber, you just weren’t expecting it to be a ride-share and have him slide in the back of the car beside you.

“Same place?” The driver noted.

“Yeah,” Bob agreed, hand resting on your thigh just above your knee. The driver looked back at the two of you in the mirror before pulling into traffic, not saying another word. You were grateful for it.

Bob’s hand slowly inched higher the longer the drive took. You placed your hand on top of his to stop it from going any higher. He was who he was, and the driver kept looking in the rearview mirror. If anything was going to happen, it was once you were in the privacy of your apartment.

That you now shared with Natasha.

The two of you had decided to upgrade from your small, Navy issued apartments a few years ago. It meant you could have Bob and Javy over without any issues popping up, but the building you’d moved to was less Naval Officers and more public friendly. That had been deliberate. 

Bob had been over a handful of times, though you usually went to his place. He liked to take his time, make you scream, and though Natasha wouldn’t give you too much shit for it, he didn’t like an audience. You understood perfectly, because you weren’t really a fan of an audience either. So anytime he came over, it was usually for cuddles and sleep. 

By the time you got home, Bob was pulling you in for a searing kiss. He was aching to touch you, be near you. You hadn’t even managed to unlock the door before he backed you into it. Hands gripping your waist and his mouth on yours.

“Bob,” you whined, tugging at his hair. 

He groaned, reaching for the keys in your hand and making quick work of unlocking the door. You grinned as you pulled him inside. He kicked the door shut and then his hands were on you again. Hiking up the dress, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

You gasped, feeling his erection pressed against your core.

“See what you do to me?” He asked, roughly groping your ass as he carried you into the bedroom. “Drives me so fucking crazy not being able to touch you. Kiss you. Having to watch men flirt with you all night and not be able to make a scene.”

“They’re not you,” you reminded him. “They don’t get to see me the way you do. Who cares if they flirt? You’re the one who has me in his bed nearly every night.”

He hummed as you kissed him, savouring the feeling of his mouth on yours. The taste of liquor that lingered on his lips. The texture of his hair between your fingers.

“Help me out of this dress,” you told him, finding your feet and turning around so he could unzip the dress. Kisses pressed to your bare shoulder, fingers slowly tugging down the zipper. Too slow. 

His hands skimmed your sides as the material fell to the floor. You reached up to tug at the corner of a piece of tape. You were relieved to find that it was easy to remove.

“That’s hot,” Bob teased, picking at the tape covering your other breast. “Like I’m unwrapping a present.”

You laughed and balled up the piece of tape in your hand, dropping it onto the bedside table while he continued to remove the rest of the tape. Grinning when he was done, finally able to admire you properly.

“You’re overdressed, Admiral Floyd.” Officially, he wasn’t an Admiral yet, but it was coming. 

He groaned at your words, your hands sliding up his chest. Tugging the tie loose from around his neck. 

“Fuck you for calling me Admiral Floyd,” he said, taking the tie from your hands and shrugging out of his jacket. “Lie down, hands above your head.”

You did as he said, resting back against the pillows and crossing your wrists above your head. You watched him move. Biting down on his bottom lip as he stepped beside the bed, looping your wrists together with his tie and knotting it to the headboard.

His hair was messy from your hands. Eyes dancing across your body with admiration and lust. He liked how easily you obeyed, that you really were his good girl. His. 

Your chest heaved in anticipation, legs pressed tightly together. Seeking any kind of relief.

He hadn’t even seen your surprise yet, a pink jewelled plug seated nicely between the cheeks of your ass. It’d been driving you wild all night. A reminder of the fun you’d be having later.

“Have you been a good girl tonight?” He asked, voice thick with lust. Desire. All for you.

“No, Admiral Floyd,” you replied as innocently as you could manage.

“No?” He taunted. “Tell me, baby.”

“‘m wearing a plug,” you whispered. “Wanted to surprise you.”

He groaned in appreciation, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. “Where’s your toys?”

You whimpered. He hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Bottom drawer,” you confessed. Of course he knew you had toys. You’d sent him a video on Snapchat of you using your dildo on yourself. He crouched down, grabbing the bag of toys from the drawer.

“What other surprises do you have here?”

“Bob,” you pleaded, tugging against your restraints.

He tutted. “That’s not my name, kitten.”

“Admiral Floyd,” you mewled, bringing a smile to his face.

“That’s better, baby,” he praised, opening the drawstring bag to reveal your two dildos – one bright pink, the other flesh coloured – some nipple clamps, a couple of vibrators and a…cock ring? He pulled it out curiously, holding it up for you to see. “Have you used this with anyone?”

“No,” you confessed. “Bought it because I wanted you to wear it. Just didn’t know how to ask.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you. Spread out on the bed, tugging at your restraints and desperately seeking some kind of relief between your legs.

“I should’ve known,” he said, reaching down to cup your cheek. “The second you said you wanted two of my fingers in your cunt and five around your neck.”

You gasped as his fingers trailed down your neck, ever so lightly applying pressure.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed. It wasn’t enough, but it was him. The simple act of him lightly gripping your throat turned you on so much more than you thought it would.

“Spread your legs,” he told you softly. 

You did as he asked, missing his light touch around your neck. You opened your eyes to watch him settle between your legs, grinning wickedly. 

“Naughty girl,” he tsked. “Wearing that plug made you so fucking wet.”

“Wore it for you.”

He pulled the saturated material of your panties to the side, running his finger up the length of your slit and applied pressure to your swollen clit. Stroking it slightly, watching you squirm under his touch.

“Admiral Floyd, please.”

“Fucking hell,” he cursed, taking the time to properly remove your underwear. Stuffing the material in your mouth and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Good girls get to talk. You haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you?”

You shook your head, watching him dip his head to suck your breasts. Nipples taut with desire to be touched, played with. Your moan muffled by the material stuffed in your mouth, back arching towards his mouth. Needing so much more than he was giving you.

“Was gonna take my time with you tonight,” he mumbled, his breath hot against your skin. Suckling bruises into the swell of your chest. “Don’t think you deserve it, hm?”

Your arms strained as you tugged them, begging them to be freed. Needing to touch him. Tell him he could have his way with you, whatever he wanted. You just wanted to be used. 

You watched him free his cock from his pants, kneeling between your open legs as he stroked his length. His tip was positioned at your entrance, roughly thrusting inside your sopping heat. Palming your breasts or gripping your hips as he set an unrelenting pace.

God, this was exactly what you needed. His grunts and groans filled the air. Fingers gripping your hips so tightly you knew they’d leave bruises. The sound of wet skin slapping and the tightening in your core only spurring him on.

“Cum with me, kitten,” he goaded. “Fuck, I’m almost there. Need you to milk the cum from my cock. There’s my good girl, fucking hell.”

Your body spasmed as he talked you through your orgasm. Feeling like it was so much more intense than it had ever been before. Your eyes squeezing shut, your moans muffled and legs locked around his waist.

Bob loosened your restraints and you took your panties from your mouth. Throwing them across the room while he started taking your heels off. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you whined, watching a smirk form on his face as he dropped the first heel to the ground and started on the next. 

“What look?” He asked innocently.

You grabbed a pillow and used it to cover your face, groaning into it. He laughed softly, only removing the pillow once your other shoe was off.

“What look?”

“That ‘you’ve got a kinky secret you’ve been hiding from me’ look,” you replied.

“I mean, you do,” he pointed out. “I won’t push it if you’re not comfortable…”

“I can’t have this conversation with a plug in my ass,” you confessed, only making him laugh. You gasped as he flipped you onto your stomach, hands grabbing your ass. Revealing that pretty plug nestled inside. “Fucking hell.”

He hummed as he toyed with the gem, spanking your ass just because he could.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he praised. Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a moan falling past your lips as he gently tugged the plug. “Relax, baby.”

“This is just turning me on more,” you admitted. “Let me do it.”

“No,” his voice was firm, gently tugging the plug again.

The moan that fell past your lips as the plug breached the tight muscle had you hiding your face in shame. Whimpering at the loss of the intrusion while he slapped your ass again.

“Get that pretty little ass in the shower,” he told you. You wasted no time in heading to the bathroom and starting the shower. You heard the plug clink as he washed it in the sink before stripping and joining you a moment later. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You grinned as he snaked his arms around your waist, your own draping around his neck. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Admiral Floyd.”

“I’m so glad you’ve never called me that at work,” he confessed. “Would’ve been awkward as fuck trying to hide my boner.”

You laughed and he silenced you with a kiss. Sweet and searing. 

“Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner,” you mused.

“I love that it’s happening now, though.”

“So do I.”

The next awards show was the one you’d been hanging out for. The Promotion Ceremony was almost a week after the Navy’s annual awards ceremony. You’d been working your butt off during the week, and spending the evenings with Bob. 

It was a comfortable little routine you found yourselves in, but you hadn’t come close to having a conversation about your kinks and boundaries. You were hoping to broach the subject with a new little stint at the next ceremony.

Once again, your dress matched Natasha’s dress for the evening. 

You walked inside the building arm in arm with Natasha yet again. You smiled warmly at Natasha’s bosses and politely excused yourself to use the bathroom. Putting your little plan into action. 

The pink device slipped easily inside you, and the control was an app on your phone. You checked it to see that it was working, leaving it on a low buzz that tickled you just right. Washing your hands before joining Natasha and trying to find your table.

You were led to the right table, glad to see that it was empty for now. Allowing the two of you to settle and chat amongst yourselves for the time being. 

You perked up when Bob and Javy joined you both at the table. They were mingling, as usual, but both dressed nicely in their blues. You let your eyes wander over Bob, whose jaw ticked as he took in your outfit. Eyes lingering on the deep plunge of your neckline. 

So that’s how you were playing it tonight, you thought. A smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth as you met his heavenly gaze.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” Natasha teased. 

The low hum between your legs was comfortable, and as Javy dragged Natasha away to get some water, you made your move. Slipping into the seat beside Bob and placing your phone on the table, the app open for anyone to see.

“What’s this?”

You leaned in a little closer and lowered your voice. “The controls for the vibrator in my pussy.”

“Oh, kitten.”

You let out a flirty giggle. “Give it a try.”

You demonstrated how to alter the speed, biting down on your inner cheeks as he cranked the speed high. Too high.

“You’re in for a long night,” he warned you.

You gave him a sweet smile as you moved back to your seat, shuffling to get comfortable despite the intense vibrations from the toy. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

“What’s the passcode?”

“7-4-4-8,” you replied through gritted teeth, watching him lock the phone and tuck it into his pocket. It spelled out shit, which was exactly what you thought at that moment. 

He grinned wickedly, resting his arms on the table as he looked at you. “You’ll be rewarded if you don’t cum.”

You nodded, legs crossed beneath the table and hands in your lap. He watched you intently as you shuffled in your seat, breaths coming short and quick. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out if anyone has any clue about what’s going on.

“Y/N,” Bob said softly. “Breathe slowly.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, blowing out a breath. Eyes finding his shining with mischief. You try to slow your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth.

But you’re acutely aware of how good it feels between your legs. The tiniest moan slipped past your lips and he’s quick to turn the device down. Your jaw ticked as you clenched your teeth and glowered in his direction.

He did it for a reason, Javy and Natasha were back. He didn’t want it to be so obvious. He didn’t want you to get caught. 

One look at Natasha told you she’d got more than a bottle of water. You busied yourself with fixing her hair while she wore a guilty look and finished reapplying her lipstick. 

Bob gave Javy shit, but it was all in good humour. Considering the control he had over you tucked in his pocket…you bit your tongue. Not wanting to say anything to incriminate the two of you when Natasha and Javy had clearly just fucked in a bathroom somewhere. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled to you.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you sat back in your seat, trying not to fidget or shuffle too much. Every time you moved you felt the device hit your g-spot and you almost gave yourself away.

“You okay?”

You hummed again. “Yeah, when’s this thing supposed to start?”

“Soon,” Bob answered coolly. Bastard. He was having too much fun with his hand in his pocket and thumb moving the speed of the device inside you. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you snipped. Both Natasha and Javy cast a look between the both of you before sharing a look of their own. “Stop asking me if I’m okay.”

“You seem tense,” Natasha commented. “I know a good bathroom to get your back blown out in…”

Javy nudged her with a playful look in his eyes. You were glad you were seated so far away from Bob right now, you knew you’d cross a line if he was within touching distance. 

“That’s not her problem,” Bob replied.

Natasha eyed you a little more carefully, her hand covering their mouth as she started giggling. God fucking damn it. 

“Shut up,” you hissed.

“I haven’t said anything,” she replied, still laughing her ass off. 

You slapped her arm, but the movement made the device brush your g-spot and you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop you from moaning.

Bob turned the device up ever so slightly. You glared at him, arms folded over your chest as you sank down in your seat. Trying to block out the tightness in your core and focus on your breathing again. 

“What the fuck is happening?” Javy whispered to Natasha.

“I’ll tell you later,” she replied, rubbing her arm from where you slapped her. “I kinda wanna see how this plays out.”

“I’ll slap you again,” you threatened Natasha. She simply gave you a shit-eating grin in response.

It was going to be a long night. 

Throughout the opening ceremony, Bob turned the vibrations down to a more bearable setting. You appreciated it, but didn’t let on that you were happy or annoyed. You focused on the host, while keeping an eye on Bob in your peripheral, whose gaze never once waived from you.

You enjoyed your drink and spoke with Natasha. As the ceremony progressed, you’d look at Bob occasionally, and only then would the setting get turned up slightly.

Your seating configuration changed so you were sitting beside Bob near the halfway point of the evening. At least, you thought it was about halfway through. They hadn’t quite finished all the mumbo jumbo from the retiring staff yet. 

You drank to try and calm down as the vibrations were gradually increased to a point where you were constantly being edged. Brought closer to your orgasm, but then Bob would turn it back down. Resting a hand on your knee for a brief moment, a silent reminder of what he said earlier. 

It only made you antsier. You shuffled your chair a little closer until his leg was pressed against the length of yours. You needed his touch, his comfort. Whatever kind that you could get, given your current surroundings.

When they announced the newest Admirals, Javy and Bob rose to their feet. But not before Bob set the device at an uncomfortably high speed. 

“Breathe,” you reminded yourself, though it was a struggle. 

Damn Bob. Damn you for having this idea in the first place.

They made short speeches as they accepted their medals that now adorned their breastplates and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t have the egg pressing nauseatingly against your g-spot. 

When the men rejoined the table, Bob’s hand lingered on your thigh. Your breathing quickened, heart racing as you squeezed your legs together and gripped his hand tightly.

“You’re okay,” he told you softly, turning his hand over to properly hold yours.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, swallowing hard.

“Good girl.”

You squeezed his hand as a warning, your other hand pressed to your chest. You barely paid any attention as Natasha took to the stage. She was accepting her second star on her Admiral badge. 

Your attention was pulled back to Bob as he turned the setting up again. You squeezed his hand tight, your breath catching in your throat. Bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth.

He cleared his throat, making you look at him. Your eyes watered as you met his steely gaze. 

 “Not yet,” he told you.

“Please,” you whimpered softly. “Please.”

“I’ll take you home soon,” he replied. “Just a bit longer.”

“Turn it down,” you pleaded quietly. “I’m going to cry. It’s too much. Please, sir.”

He took you in. Your flushed, heaving chest. Your watering hooded eyes. Your swollen bottom lip. He shifted uncomfortably, unlocking your phone and turning the device down to a more bearable setting.

He leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “You’re getting punished for that.”

“Thank you, sir. I deserve it.”

He surprised you by kissing your cheek. You gave him a smile and rested your hand on his thigh, his wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. 

You enjoyed the comfort as another couple of promotions were announced, and relaxed into him. 

When it came time for you to leave, Bob happily took your hand in his. 

Bob stood beside you as you watched Javy and Natasha both disappear down the street, shivering in the brisk air. He shrugged his jacket off and draped it around you without you needing to ask, smiling at you as you thanked him. 

“You did good tonight,” he told you.

“You mean the vibrator?”

He chuckled, sliding an arm around your back and pulling you a little closer. “I do.”

He helped you into the car, lacing his hand with yours. You sat in silence on the ride back to his place, his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand. His other thumb altered the speed of the vibrator still inside you. Watching your reactions throughout the drive, and kissing you whenever he turned it up so you didn’t moan. 

You were delirious when you arrived at his place. Feeling like you were floating on another planet as he led you up the steps and through the threshold. 

“How many times did you almost come?” He asked you. You stood in front of him, feeling small under his gaze.

“Five times,” you told him truthfully.

He reached out to cup your face, lightly gripping your jane between his thumb and the length of his forefinger. “Five spanks on each cheek should be punishment enough, hm?”

Your cunt tightened in excitement. “Yes, sir.”

“Wait for me in the bedroom,” he instructed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and smiling sweetly at you.

You did as he asked, walking down to the master bedroom and hanging his suit jacket up in his closet before standing at the end of the bed, waiting anxiously. You felt the vibrations in the device get dialled up, squeezing your thighs together as you tried not to enjoy it too much. Your eyebrows pulled together, bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth. Hissing at the pain that shot through your swollen and bruised lip, a reminder of how many times you’d bitten it through the night.

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the bedroom door click shut. 

“Strip for me, baby,” Bob said, taking a seat on the end of the bed. “Keep the heels on.”

You had no music playing, but you pretended there was. A song played in your head as you moved your body under his watchful gaze. His eyes raking over you, taking in every sway of your hips, the way your hands caressed your chest and stomach. Flipping your hair over your shoulder as you turned your back to him and reached for the zipper on your dress.

The material fell to the floor but you kept dancing. The way you moved was hypnotising and you felt Bob’s burning gaze. The air electric between you as your hair covered your chest and you sat yourself down in his lap. Running your hands up his chest and toying with his tie, loosening it and undoing a couple of the buttons. Only moving away when he hand caressed your lower back.

“Touching costs extra, Admiral Floyd,” you chastised playfully, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you twirled around. 

Putting on a show as you bent over and slowly removed your underwear. The material soaked with your arousal. 

He chuckled lowly as you threw them at him, watching his fingers rub over the wet spot and his eyes darken as you sank to your knees. Stroking his thighs, lightly skimming over his crotch and hearing him hiss at the contact.

Eyes lock on his as you pressed a feathersoft kiss to his clothed cock. His nostrils flaring at the small gesture, jaw ticking.

“Lie across my lap, kitten,” he told you, voice leaving no room for argument. Not that you would, anyway. You were enjoying this too much. This shift in dynamic, the power you’d given him. The trust you had in him not to take it any further than you were comfortable with.

You folded yourself over his lap, glad you had the bed to rest on, too.

His hand rested on the back of your thigh, fingers toying with the pink rubber from the vibrator still inside you. He tugged it lightly, making your moan.

“You want me to take it out, or leave it in?”

“Out please, sir,” you replied meekly. He turned the device off before you felt a stronger tug. Willing your body to relax enough to let the device slip out, and whimpering at the loss as it breached the muscle. “I’ll take my punishment now, sir.”

“Five strikes on each cheek,” he reminded you. You didn’t know what he did with the toy, but his hand softly squeezed your left cheek. Playful, almost. “Count them.”

The first slap came as a surprise. Not too hard, but not too soft. Just enough to give you a taste, knowing he was likely to strike harder.

“One,” you counted as his hand caressed the tender skin. His hand came down harder this time, and you whimpered as he caressed the skin once again. “Two.”

Each strike got a little bit harder, and you grew a little bit wetter. Whimpering as his fingernails dragged over the sensitive skin, likely leaving a temporary mark in their wake.

You counted, “five,” and then came the assault to your other cheek. He started harder, but still took the time to smooth his hand over the freshly struck area. Caressing and squeezing.

“One,” you counted, hands fisting the bedding beneath you. Thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to stave off your orgasm. His hand came down hard once again, causing you to whimper under his touch. “Two.”

“Three more,” he told you, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear. “Keep counting.”

You gasped as his hand stung your ass once more. “Three,” you said, eyes squeezed shut. You counted out the last two painfully, tears stinging your eyes. Not because of the pain, but because of the pleasure.

He pulled you into his lap, cradling you into his chest. Brushing your hair back from your face and swiping at a tear that escaped before it ran down your cheek.

“Was that too much?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“No,” you assured him. “It was good, I just need to come. Please, Admiral Floyd. Please let me come.”

He hummed, cupping your cheek and drawing you in for a kiss. 

His mouth was dominating. Tongue working its way into your mouth, a firm hand on your hip, the other cupping the base of your skull. Fingers wound into your hair and tipping your head back, exposing your neck to him. His hot mouth latching onto your soft skin, sucking, pecking, biting.

You released a shaky breath as he nipped at your collarbones, hand gripping the back of his neck, the other tugging his tie. 

You gasped as his hand skimmed up your side, cupping your breast. Thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple before pinching it roughly and dipping his head to take the other one in his mouth. Teeth grazing the swollen nub, tongue soothing, fingers teasing. 

He moved you so you were lying on your back, completely at his mercy. His mouth and hands continued to pinch and nip at your chest, your back arching into his touch. Legs spread wide, accommodating his body. Hands wound in his short hair and tugging as he sucked a bruise into the top of your breast.

Your hips arch off the bed, desperate for some friction between your legs. His teeth grazed your nipple as he chuckled, biting down enough to make you hiss.

“So needy,” he taunted, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“Need your mouth, Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Your tongue, your fingers. Anything. Please make me come.”

His hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs as he kisses your navel and pushes you further up the bed. Ankles resting over his shoulders, the heel of your stilettos no doubt digging into his back, but if it bothers him he doesn’t let on. Eyes level with your pretty, glistening cunt. 

He used his thumbs to spread you open, groaning as your hands comb through his hair.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he compliments, laying his tongue flat against your cunt and tasting your arousal. Humming in appreciation as you gasp and shudder, nose pressed snug against your clit.

He hooked his arms under your thighs, splaying his hands out over your chest and stomach. One hand applying pressure to your abdomen, the other playing with your breasts.

When your thighs clamped around his head, he knew you were a goner. Tongue licking, mouth sucking, nose firm. The perfect combination, and his favourite way to make you come undone.

He groaned in appreciation as your hips bucked against his face, riding out your orgasm. Your juices coating his tongue and dribbling down his chin. 

You saw stars as he pressed two fingers inside your sopping cunt, curling them back towards himself as he sucked on your clit. Teeth grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves, hips rolling against his mouth.

Then he sucks. Hard. And you almost pass out, gasping and bucking your hips wildly. Fingers brushing against your g-spot, working together with his mouth to make you cum again.

Your head lolled to the side, body satiated and pliant. Eyes frantically trying to blink away the spots from your vision until Bob’s face was all you could focus on. His hand cupping your cheek, eyes full of worry. 

Chin glistening.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you confessed breathily, eyes coming back into focus.

“Think you can cum again for me?” He asked. 

“Yes, sir,” you confirmed, pulling off his tie with a grin.

He chuckled as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and quickly removed his trousers. Cock springing free and slapping his stomach, the tip angry and red and glistening with precum.

He groaned as you reached for his cock, stroking his length. His hand replaced yours and you gasped as he slapped his cock against your clit. Grinning wickedly as he ran the tip of his cock up your slit and pushed just the tip inside your cunt.

“Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Please. I need your cock, sir. Need you to fill me with your cum.”

Bob groaned deeply as he folded himself on top of you, hips rocking into you. Refusing to give you more than just the tip.

“Such a filthy little slut, hm?” He asked, fingers closing around your throat. Squeezing your pressure point. Your mouth falling open at the sudden act.

“Yes, sir,” you agreed, swallowing thickly. “Only a slut for you.”

He hummed, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re mine.”

You whimpered, fingernails digging into the fresh over his shoulder blades. Your brain covered in fog, too overwhelmed by him. 

“Say it,” he growled. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Admiral Floyd. Your filthy little slut.”

You gripped his wrist as he thrust inside you, bottoming out. Your eyes rolling back in your head, his name falling past your lips in a delirious chant. 

“Mine,” he repeated, sealing his mouth over yours as his thrusts made you moan. So fucking close. So fucking good.

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue, gripping the back of his neck as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes locked on his, noses nudging together as his thrusts grew faster. Harder. More unrelenting. 

Taking and taking and taking until you were coming undone around him. Beneath him. Consumed by all things Bob. 

“Bob,” you whined, legs wrapping around his waist as he came. Grunting and bottoming out as his cock twitched and spilled inside you. 

He looked so fucking pretty when he came. Eyes screwed shut, body shuddering. A thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. Lips parted as he cursed and panted your name.

He collapsed beside you, stroking your hair with a blissful look on his face. Holding you close, your lips pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his chin, his lips. 

“That was…holy fuck,” he said with a breathy chuckle. 

You hummed, smiling as he nudged your nose with his. “You’re so good to me, Admiral Floyd.”

He groaned lowly, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re good to me, kitten. So fucking good.”

He kissed you slowly, sweetly. A stark contrast to the frenzied kisses you’d shared previously. Taking his time to make you feel comfortable, cherished. So fucking loved.

[attapullman]

The Perfect Pink | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: While bartending for Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine's Party, you encounter a pink-cheeked man and his cherry-loving cousins.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: all fluff with alcohol mentions

A Note From Mo: Here is my Pink Lady fic for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison event to go with this gorg moodboard! As a part-time mixologist and full-time Bob Floyd lover, this was such a fun concept to play around with and has inspired me to come up with more pink drinks. I've never been a Valentine's girly, but I fully believe this pink-cheeked WSO could convince me otherwise. To everyone who reads this, I love you bunches and bunches, all 365 days in the year!

It’s so pink. Horrendously. Abysmally. Pepto-bismally. PINK.

When you agreed to tend the bar in a pinch, a few bundles of carnations and candy pink paper hearts were your guess for the evening’s decorations. But when you showed up to Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine’s Party holding a crate of soda water and a handful of shakers, your senses flatlined with the amount of pink covering every surface.

Petal pink tablecloths straightened over round tables; a small bouquet of magenta carnations attached to each folding chair and incensing the recreation hall of the retirement home. Heart-covered paper plates and folded napkins set up at each place setting, glittering confetti sprinkled around the tableware. The ceiling isn’t even a reprieve, a rainbow of fuchsia and rose and flamingo and blush balloons filling up every available inch of space.

Suzette on the front desk had complimented your dusky pink sweater - an appropriate choice for the holiday - but set against this backdrop you feel like another decoration. An oversized bauble that also makes cocktails and pours cheap wine.

And now, standing behind this makeshift card-table-turned-bar covered in bubblegum crepe paper, your brain might explode in a cloud of hot pink smoke. Counting out pours and trying not to slice yourself making garnishes is a struggle keeping up with all these orders. While the average age of the party goer may be eighty, they drink more than the 21st birthday bash you bartended last weekend. You’ve been here all of an hour and Mrs. Moscovitz has already downed three fuschia cosmopolitans.

While disappointed you don’t have more romantic Valentine’s Day plans - though, when have you ever had a date on this too pink day? - it’s fun to see who’s turned up to celebrate. White-haired couples are swaying on the makeshift dance floor, every shade of pink and red in their attire. Bridge groups and knitting circles are excitedly chatting at their respective tables, gossiping over who is in attendance and with whom. Even the staff have wide grins splitting their faces, enjoying the festivities that break up the bleak winter. It’s the least you can do to spend the holiday providing beverages for this crowd.

The best part is the families. While romantic love is thick in the air, so is platonic love. Family members of all ages have come out to spend the holiday with the residents. Mr. Gordon’s daughter and her family have driven hours to catch up over pot roast and sparkling cider while his grandson plays trucks over a pile of chocolates he snuck from Suzette.

Orders have slowed down and your eyes keep glancing over to Ms. Floyd’s table. The entire clan has showed up for dinner, dancing, and to take home a batch of her homemade snickerdoodles. Multiple relatives are taking up two entire heart-sprinkled tables. Your focus is mainly on the second table for too far from you, where the grandkids have been relegated to play cards and swap candy hearts to pass the time.

“Why don’t you go ask the pink lady for more cherries.” God, he’s cute. The only guy in this place near your age and his attention is stolen by a pair of toddler girls obsessed with the cherries in their Shirley temples. 

You divert your eyes quickly when you realize he’s talking about you and your pink sweater. The girls giggle shyly, the high pitched squeals of glee as they convince him to go up instead. Fiddling with shakers, wiping down the counter, you try to stay busy as you physically feel him approach the converted bar and your trembling hands.

“Hi!” His smile is thin and nervous and his cheeks are pink, blushing from his little cousins and their antics. Also because you’re much prettier up close and he’s wearing a shirt he’d never normally be caught in if his grandma hadn’t picked it out. 

He’s much cuter at this distance as well. Sandy hair combed neatly, one small strand slipping out behind his ear. Friendly cerulean eyes framed by golden wire spectacles, similar to the ones several of the ex-military men at Rolling Acres are sporting. His thin lips falter slightly as he takes in how well the pink of your sweater compliments your skin. God, he wishes he wasn’t wearing this shirt.

You spring into service mode and grab a fresh cocktail shaker. “What can I do you for?”

“I’m technically up here for some cherries.” You dutifully nod, hoping to hide the fact you’ve been watching him converse with the toddler girls in their matching baby pink dresses most of the night. You make a small dish of cherries up and push it toward him, shaking your head when he attempts to pay. “The thirty-eight cents of cherries is a small expense for a night those two will talk about for weeks. They’re on the house.”

He grabs the dish with a smile, but realizes he now has no excuse to stay by the bar. And while he loves his cousins, he’s on leave for a few more weeks and you’re really pretty. A few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt. He extends his hand with a timid smile. “I’m Bob.”

You reach out and shake his hand back as you introduce yourself, hoping the condensation coating your fingers isn’t too noticeable. He immediately commits your name to memory, happy to replace “The Pink Lady” with a name as fitting to you as yours.

He moves out of the way as a woman in a magenta scarf orders a round for her bingo group. Bob watches as you whir into action, pouring liquors and counting off ounces. The delicate way you garnish each drink so the owner feels special. Your gracious smile when a tip is stuffed into the heart-shaped velvet box provided to you for tips.

When the line at the bar dies down, he sidles back up to your makeshift station. Bob notices the way you eye the decorations warily, still adjusting to the deafening pink of it all. He drums lightly on the blushing pink tablecloth, catching your wide-eyed attention. “Everything all right?”

“Uh, this place is too…pink?” you laugh, gesturing to the overabundance of rosy hues surrounding you. For possibly the first time all night, Bob realizes that while you were the only pink thing that had his attention, it is suffocating in the recreation hall. 

“Yes, yes it is,” he chuckles right back, eyes soaking in the offending decorations. There’s a comfortable air between the two of you, and he decides to push his luck for more time with The Pink Lady.

Bob clears his throat, pulse thrumming through his body. Tonight is his one and only chance to land a date with the pretty bartender.

“So, to go with the theme, what is the pinkest drink you can make me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, his best attempt at flirting. A hint of a giggle escapes as you purse your lips, contemplating his challenge. 

“I can make you a pink lady.” 

He narrows his eyes. “Is that a real drink, or have you named it after yourself?”

“It’s real, I promise.” You’re all smiles at his attention as you combine the gin, applejack, and grenadine with a splash of lemon juice. He really could watch you work for hours.

As you reach for the last ingredient, his eyes bug out. “Is that an egg?” He’s a Navy man, his normal bar only has cocktails with two ingredients. Since when did eggs go in cocktails?

“When you dry shake an egg white it creates this nice foam, adds to the drink.” While he wants to come across as open-minded and cultured, he’s hesitant. “If you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else.”

He’s bewitched as you pour the perfectly pink drink into a plastic coup, the creamy white foam rising to top it off. A cherry balances the rim, one that won’t be stolen by his mischievous cousins. As he looks between the freshly poured drink and you, he swears your cheeks are the same happy pink.

You push the drink toward him, excited to share something new with a customer. Always a gamble as a bartender, but worth it when you expand someone’s palate. He gives you a tentative smile, unsure if he’s going to like it, but he really wants to impress you. In return, you give him an encouraging nod, completely unsure of how this will go. He takes a sip, the frothy mixture coating his tongue.

As far as he’s concerned, the drink is named after you. Not too sweet, not too tart, a divinely balanced combination of flavors in a perfect pink concoction. Bob is convinced you would taste just as good, especially with a cherry. The thought makes his brain blank.

“Do you like it?” Your hopeful eyes are endearing. He wants to brush the strand of hair from your cheek and assure you that he likes it, that he’d like anything you made him because you made it. But you’re practically strangers so he stumbles over his words as he promises it’s delicious. 

The bowl of cherries for his cousins still in his hand, Bob stands to the side of the bar and sips his tartly sweet drink, casually keeping up conversation with you as you serve other patrons. You’re glad for the company, enjoying the way he asks about your technique and mutters out the few things he knows about wine from conversations with his aunt. Despite the fact you’re working, it’s the best Valentine’s Day you’ve had in years with this bespectacled man watching you tend bar.

He’s just so cute, blushing his own special pink hue when your eyes connect while you shake up a few martinis.

“Uncle Bob!” There is no mistaking who is calling him over. Two identical heads pouting as they motion him over. His time with you is up. He gives you a sweet smile, trying to memorize every inch of your face, before motioning his hand filled with cherries in their direction. You bittersweetly grin right back, smile lingering as you start on Mr. Nickerson’s two merlots as you watch his broad shoulders walk away.

Oh, how you wish he would come back.

Because it’s a retirement home and not a frat house, by ten the party is wrapping up. You’ve exchanged shy glances with Bob a handful of times, but his family has taken up most of his attention with Navy questions and inquiring when he’s going to visit next. He barely registers the event is over before he’s rummaging through his mom’s handbag with his last attempt at salvaging the night.

You’re cleaning up your supplies when the Floyd clan walks past, all waving good night to you and the staff, thanking you all for a great Valentine’s night. The girls thank you for their cherries, a stem hanging from one’s lip. 

Staggering at the end of the crowd is Bob, his cheeks flushed and palms tingling. He stands in front of your table, rocking on his heels, working up his courage. You give him a warm smile, thanking him for his company, and he completely melts. As he holds up his occupied hand, he hopes this works.

“Forgot to slip this in earlier.” His smile is tense as he jams a few dollars through the absurdly small hole in your improvised tip box. You thank him before both blurting out awkward goodbyes. As he catches up with his family, a pang rings through your chest. Disappointed he’s gone, never to be seen again. 

Bob Floyd, a Valentine’s mirage you will remember fondly.

Once all your things are packed, you square things up with Suzette with your pay for the event and a promise to stop by to visit the residents later in the month. You schlep everything to the car, a mixture of emotions painting your face in the rearview mirror as you make your way back home. The weight of defeat keeping you from bringing anything inside except for that damn tip box you’re hoping will cover groceries for the week.

You pry open the velvet lid and are met with the best surprise.

There, at the bottom of your substitute tip jar, underneath all the singles the elderly stiffed you with, was a scrap of cheap rosy pink napkin. You unfurl it to see neat chicken scratch handwriting, the pen poking through the fabric in spots as he worked to write out his message with a phone number beneath.

I’m here until the 27th. Drinks on me? - Bob

Now that you think about it, maybe you do like pink.

taglist: @berryvanille @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @cosmoeticss @creatchie8 @drxgxnslxyer @hangmanapologist @hiireadstuff @jessicab1991 @just-in-case-iloveyou @kmc1989 @maryelizabeth13 @petersunderoos96 @rhettsluvr @roosterforme @seitmai @sweetwhispersofchaos @topherwrites @xoxabs88xox @yuckosworld

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[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made. 

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.” 

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks. 

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.” 

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it. 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123

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Divider Credit @cafekitsune

[crazyk-imagine]

Veils, Weddings, and Best Friends Weddings

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Plus size!reader

Characters: Robert "Bob" Floyd, Plus size!reader, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Penny Benjamin, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Warnings: Fluff, angst, friends to lovers, secret rendezvous, everyone rooting for Bob and reader to get together, small age gap between friends, age gap between lovers, plans gone wrong, reader talking about Bob being a kid, unnecessary drama but it's for the plot, Bob and Natasha make a rough comment to the other, Jake's only a vegetarian because of Ian in the movies, Bob's kinda a hoe for the reader, he's also an ass man in one scene 0-0

Word Count: 5,738

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You shake your head, watching your best friend stare at a happy couple, already knowing she wishes she could have that kind of love… which hurts you in more ways than one. You sigh to yourself knowing that you’re going to have to break her out of her gaze.

You reach behind you, untying your apron and lean onto her nudging her arm. "Don't do that sad puppy dog look, Tash. You’ll find your special someone. I know it."

She scoffs, removing her gaze from the couple to take your apron. "Yeah, where?"

"He's just around the corner."

"You go out on more dates than I do how do you not have a boyfriend."

You know what she’s doing, it’s her defense mechanism, one she’s been doing since you two were kids.

You shrug, going around her to grab your purse and coat. "All the ones I find are jerks."

"Bob isn’t."

"Please don't start this again," you plead.

"I'm just saying. If it was between the two of us, you would have a better chance at finding love than I would." She opens the register to make change before sending the couple off so she can talk to you.

You sigh, "Natasha, I love you. I do, but you have to realize that I am older. I would look like a cougar."

"You’re barely four years younger than me."

"And I'm still seven years older than him. I've seen him take baths. I even helped."

She furrows her brows. "Now?"

"No! When we were kids. He was the sweetest little boy ever."

"To you," she mutters.

"No, he-" ‘Huh.’ As you think about it, maybe you did have to resolve more than one of his tantrums when no one else could. "Maybe he wasn't but-"

"Don't you even try to argue and say he was an angel. He wasn't. He was absolutely terrible except for you and only you but you don’t want to admit it."

You roll your eyes. "I have to go to work, Natasha."

She sighs, "please don't leave mad."

"I'm not, I'm not… I promise… pain in my ass."

She chuckles, even though she knows you don’t want to admit any of it, but her baby brother was a menace as a kid, and he’d only ever be the most well behaved and calm down faster when you helped him.

Penny walks through the door, "oh is it time for you to leave already? I feel like I've barely gotten to see you."

You chuckle, grabbing your coat off the counter. "It is."

"Come for dinner."

"Oh. I couldn't." You always like having dinner with Natasha and Bob’s family but it gets awkward whenever they try to discuss your guy’s future wedding, last time you went to dinner that was all they talked about.

"I'll make you a special plate,” she adds to persuade you.

You pretend to think about it. "Leftovers?"

"Only small container."

Which means, take as much as you want. "Deal?" You’re scared about tonight’s dinner topic.

She pulls you in for a hug and kisses your cheeks. "Have a good day, darling."

"You too, Mrs. P."

"How many times do I have to tell you, call me Penny."

You can’t bring yourself to that… not when you need to break it off. "Bye ladies."

-

You walk out of the restaurant, reaching into your purse only to find it not clutched underneath your armpit. You could have sworn you brought it with you. You turn around, staring at the ground not wanting to fall on the slippery, wet concrete (today, your butt is still a little sore from two days ago).

"Woah! Woah!" A set of hands grips your waist tightly, keeping you upright.

You lift your head and find the reason why these hands feel familiar. "Oh, gosh. Sorry, Bob. Even as careful as I was, I still managed to slip."

He smiles at the joke, knowing you’re being this nice to him because his family is watching you from inside the restaurant (and he’s late for his shift, again but for a good reason). “It’s a good thing I was here to catch you." His hands haven’t moved from your waist.

"Bob," you lower your head, making sure he understands how he can’t make jokes like that, even if you did leave his room early before anyone was awake.

"What?” He shrugs, ignoring your look. “It was a harmless comment."

You scoff, "nothing with you is harmless."

"Ouch.” He places his right hand over his heart, “that hurts. No, it really does."

"Why are you here?"

"Your purse." He holds it out for you.

"Oh," you blink owlishly, taking the item from him. "Thank you!” You glance back at him with a raised brow. “You know if I didn't know any better, I would think you took it just talk to me like this in front of your family."

"You're over at the house all the time, I could just steal you away from Nat."

"How sneaky."

His lips tug upwards into a smirk. "Only for you."

A sigh escapes through your nose. "You cannot say things like that to me."

"Why not?" He asks, you always tell him this, but it doesn’t change anything that’s been going on between you two. “Tell me why I can’t say things like that to you and I’ll stop.”

“I have to go to work.”

His joking attitude falls, “hey, wait. I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“Bob, you are their prized baby boy. You’re the one who’s going to do greater and better things than they could have ever imagined. We wouldn’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence because you’re wrong, you don’t know how my family talks about you when you’re not around.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Bobby.”

He turns around watching you walk away as soon as your figure disappears his head falls back, staring up at the gray clouds, wondering how things can change for you to realize how much his family sees you as one of their own.

If they could have, they would have adopted you, so they don’t have to call you the “adopted daughter”. But then again, they do keep dropping hints about him asking you a certain question so they can officially call you their favorite daughter-in-law (including the in-laws themselves).

He turns around and heads into the restaurant, ready to start his shift.

Natasha doesn’t say anything but feels she should do something to help you realize how much in love her brother is with you… maybe after she helps the incredibly handsome blond man, she sees in the window who then enters the restaurant and sits down with his friend.

There are a few complaints about how the food doesn’t taste the same as it normally does, which makes sense since this morning’s talk brought down his happy mood.

He thought maybe you left your purse because you wanted to have something more with him.

-

Your day didn’t go any better, the only new thing that happened involves your coworker and her setting you up on a blind date knowing today is one of the three days you show up with a side for dinner at Natasha’s family home. You tried to tell her to cancel it, but she didn’t want to listen.

“Why do you want me to cancel it so badly? Is it because that guy who drops you off lunch finally wised up and confessed?” Lucy asks, with a wide smile.

You tilt your head, “who- do you mean Bob?”

She nods, “yes, yes! The cutie with the glasses. He’s always so sweet when he asks where you are? I wish my boyfriend would describe me the way he does about you.”

“How does he-” Your guy’s shared boss, Ed (short for Edward) interrupts, informing you two to get back to work.

Lucy grabs your arm as you two rush back to your workstations. “So, what I’m hearing is, he can’t man up and ask you out and you’re, in fact, single.”

You sigh, knowing she’s won.

“Perfect,” she pauses.

“What? Why did you go quiet all of a sudden?”

“Now, I don’t know if you should go on this date. The guy I chose for you has been known to be a… player but- but I see the look on your face, please let me finish. But he's changed. Or maybe if you want, he can help you. Oh, yes. I’m brilliant. I’ll text him and tell him we have a plan to get two lovebirds together.”

“You forget Bob and I aren’t lovebirds.” You feel dirty saying that, almost like you’re lying.

“Not yet.”

You regret talking to her about these kinds of things now.

-

As you walk to Lucy’s car, you text Natasha.

Brat Tamer

‘Hey, can’t stay for dinner but I have a side ready. I’ll drop it off, make sure someone cab grab it' 6:02pm Sent Read

“Okay, where to?”

“Your house first. I always have a spare party outfit in my car.”

“How often do you go out?”

“When was the office new year’s party?”

“Same day as the Christmas party?”

“And that was?”

“First Saturday of December.”

“That’s how long I’ve had them in my car.”

“Lucy,” you chuckle.

“What?”

“You cannot tell me that you’ve left dirty clothes in your car for the last six and a half months?!”

“Don’t worry. I got them dry cleaned a few days after. I just never brought them upstairs to put in my closet. The elevator at my apartment complex is always broken and I have to walk up four flights of stairs.”

You giggle, “okay, Luc. Whatever you say.”

“Peter will be at the restaurant in a booth at seven which gives me enough time to throw something together while you do your makeup.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“This is going to be fun.”

Nat the Brat

‘Got it… what color lipstick goes with the black dress I found at the mall a few years ago?’ 6:13pm Sent Read

You reread the text and find yourself smiling.

Brat Tamer

‘Your date better be with the one you were drooling over during your story. I can’t wait to meet him. One of your two pink lipsticks, don’t want to scare him away with a dark color ;)’ 6:15pm Sent Read

“Okay, it’s time to doll you up.”

“What Era are we obsessed with today that were throwing in words people don’t use often?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. “Doll you up” just felt right.”

Neither of you say anything as she picks out your outfit and you’re left to wander into the bathroom and finish your makeup.

Her quietness does concern you seeing as she’s normally so talkative, but you don’t put too much thought into it as you search for your favorite lipstick.

You hadn’t realized she was texting Natasha to figure out what would make Bob tick and push himself into asking you out- officially.

If only you hadn’t introduced the two of them when you invited Natasha as your plus one to your work barbecue a couple of years ago.

“I found it. Come out here.”

“But you’re there.”

“Oh.” She sighs, “I’ll turn around.”

You give her the okay to turn around and her jaw drops. “Oh, I am a miracle worker.”

“You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“That’s why I’m using my good on you,” she adds a wide smile.

You roll your eyes, “I don’t buy it.”

-

“Can you take it to their door?”

“I’m a stranger. Why would they accept a meal from me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why can’t you cooperate with me?”

“I am,” Lucy argues.

“No, you’re not.”

“Well then you should have thought about this beforehand.”

“I did. You’re the one who wouldn’t stop here first.”

She shrugs. “Either you drop it off or they don’t get their special “adopted daughter” side dish.”

You groan, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I hate you.”

“Not after tonight you won’t.”

As soon as you stepped out of the car, she texted Natasha.

You knock on the door, waiting for her to answer. Your eyes slightly widen seeing- “Bob. Hey.”

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?”

“That’s true.”

“But you’re here.”

“I just came to drop off this,” you hold the dish pan in front of him.

He leans down to smell it. “Smells like my favorite.”

You roll your eyes, “you say that about everything I make.”

“And it’s true. But-uh- why are you dressed up?”

“My coworker is setting me up on a blind date.”

“Really?” His eye glaze over with annoyance, you think.

“I tried to-”

“Have fun on your date.” And he slams the door in your face.

You scoff and walk back to the car.

“So, what happened?”

You yank the seatbelt out of its place and click it into place with a huff. “How do you think?”

She says nothing and starts the car. “What if I told you that Peter is actually engaged, and I lied so that Bob would ask you out?”

“What?” You turn to her, “what the hell do you mean?”

“Well- we just-”

“You and Natasha planned this? Is she even home right now?”

“She's on a date, I swear she is. But we just- we’re so tired of you being sad and not admitting your feelings-”

“I’m getting out.”

“What? No.” She tries to grab you but you’re already out. “Come on, get back in the car.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, please just get inside the car.”

“Why?”

“We’re gonna go hangout.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Because I’m a nice person.”

You roll your eyes and get back in the car. “It’s going to be a calm night. We’re going out to dinner and then maybe somewhere for dessert.”

You two wind up having a really good time and she helped get your mind off the fact that Bob was so annoyed, for no reason.

-

You wake up to find two missed calls from Natasha along with a few texts. You roll over, not responding; still upset over what she and Lucy planned.

You didn’t talk to her or Bob for a week and it was miserable, for everyone.

No one in the family knew what had happened and didn’t know how to help, all they knew was that their children were depressed, and you were the obvious solution.

Penny knocks on your door when you have barely started to wind down after your long day.

You open the door, expecting it to potentially be your best friend or Lucy and are surprised. “Mrs. P?”

“Can I come in?”

You nod and open the door wider, “what are you- shouldn’t you be at home getting dinner ready? I mean, I’m not- why- uh-” You scratch your head. “Why are you here?”

“My children are depressed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that-”

“You haven’t been around the house in a week, and I know what something’s wrong. What did they do? Maybe I can talk to them and make it better.”

You sigh and sit beside her on the couch. “It’s nothing that can’t be resolved, I just needed Nat to learn her lesson and she’s got her own life to live anyway. I mean, she’s started college and is doing something with her life, something that’s not what’s expected of her… no offense.”

She shrugs, “I understand but you should know she’s lonely because she has no one to talk to. She wants to be able to talk to you again.”

You take a deep breath, “I’ll stop by tonight.”

She claps her hands before pulling you in for a hug.

“Good, good. Everyone will be happy.”

“I don’t think it’s going to change much.”

“My little Bobby will be especially happy.”

You lean against the door, holding onto the doorknob. “What makes you say that?”

“A mother knows these things.” And with that, she left you with your thoughts.

-

You walk down the familiar walkway, listening to the bustle of the family moving about the house. You smile and knock on the door, not knowing if it’s unlocked or not.

One of the cousins, Bradley, opens the door.

“Well, look who came crawling back. Finally decided to drop the schmuck and find someone better. Maybe someone with a mustache,” he wipes his hand down his face, making sure to pay extra attention to his facial hair.

You roll your eyes, “move over, weirdo.”

“Hey,” he closes the door. Don’t make me tell the family about the one time-”

You jam your elbow into his side when you see your best friend making her way over to you.

She wraps her arms around you, ignoring her cousin as he pleads for someone to get help and that he’s dying. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “don’t be. I’m just sorry it took me so long to come back.”

“No, I get it. It’s the same reason why I’m so scared to tell everyone about Jake.”

“You know once they meet him, they’ll adopt him, right?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” You pull her off to the side, “tell me about him.”

Your friend lowers her head, trying to hide her smile.

-

Neither of you notice when Bob manages to pull away from the aunts, he watches you two enjoying your conversation and realizes how much he screwed up and misses you.

Bradley pats his shoulder, “you gonna ask her?”

“I’m not asking anyone anything. Go brush your mustache somewhere else.”

“Hey, don’t hate on the ‘stache.”

-

Penny shouts for everyone and dinner starts with a slight twist; usually you and Natasha are seated by one another, but it seems that the family has other plans because now you and Bob are seated next to each other.

Everyone talks as if your absence didn’t happen, which was a relief on your part; you were scared they were going to bring it up.

After dinner everyone scattered and went to do whatever they wanted to.

You search for Natasha only to get a text from her saying she’s gone to hang out with Jake.

You scoff and shake your head as you lean against her doorway only to be frightened when you’re pulled back into another, yet familiar room. You turn around and stare at him.

“I wanted to say… sorry, you know about the other night.”

"You pulled me in here to apologize?"

He nods.

"What have you done with the real Bob?"

He rolls his eyes and sits down at his desk. "Shut up."

You stare at him with a soft smile. "Why did you really pull me in here?"

"I already told you."

You cross your arms, "you forget that I've known since you were a kid. I know when you're lying."

"I hate it when you do that," he huffs.

You furrow your brows, "do what?"

"Talk about me like I'm still a kid. I'm an adult, I have been. You know it. I mean," his chest bounces as he quickly chuckles to himself. "We've done things only adults would do."

Your eyes widen.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm giving you the most appropriate look after that comment, like you've gone insane." You glance back at the door.

"Don't worry. No one's going to come in. You're the only afterhours guest I've had."

"Somehow that doesn't comfort me."

He shrugs, "I don't know what to tell you then."

A piece of paper catches your eye. "What's that?"

"Nothing," he mumbles, moving it off the side.

"Is that-"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," you tell him with a smile. "Is it the flyer you were talking about?"

He avoids making eye contact. "No."

You chuckle and shake his shoulders, "don't lie. It is." You reach for it, only for him to stop you. "Am I not allowed to see it?"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I- it's not ready."

"You think I'm going to care if it's done or not."

He doesn't say anything.

"Fine, don't let me see it."

He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what you're doing. He pulls it out from under his pile of miscellaneous items.

You stare at it for a while, scaring him because he thinks you don’t like it. You shake your head and throw your arms around him.

He’s thrown off, unsure of what to do.

You adjust yourself and keep an arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him close. “This is so good. I can’t believe you did this. Have you shown anyone else?”

He shakes his head, “why would I do that?”

“Because this is amazing, and your family needs to know.”

“You’re bad for me,” he mumbles, turning his head further into your chest, enjoying the warmth coming from you.

“How can you say that?”

He lifts his head, the corner of his lips quirked upwards, he narrows his gaze on you.

You know you should get up and leave, most of his family are still downstairs and soon Natasha will be coming home (if she doesn’t spend the night with her boyfriend). “I should go,” you whisper.

He nods, leaning in. “Then go.”

You don’t make a move to leave until he’s less than an inch away from you.

His breath is warm against your lips as he whispers to you. “I won’t do anything unless you want me to.”

You lean in and kiss him as if he’s the cure, drinking all that he has to offer and he’s not going to stop you.

The chair creaks as you try to change your position.

“I don’t the chair can handle our weight,” you mumble against his lips.

“You’re right.”

You squeal as he lifts you, holding onto his neck for dear life as you push your chest against his. “What are you doing?”

“We’re moving this to a different space that can handle what I’m going to do to you.”

You don’t comment on that, suddenly feeling hotter. You land face first on the bed, giving Bob a beautiful view of your backside.

He takes a step closer, “god, I love this ass,” he mumbles against the side of your neck as he smacks it.

You open your mouth, but no sounds come out of you.

He flips you over and stares down at you causing you to feel self-conscious, something he notices right away.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay? We don’t need to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head, “I’m fine.”

“You know I don’t like when you tell me “you’re fine”. It doesn’t make me think you’re really fine.”

You grab his cheeks and pull him close, “I’m good. I want this. I want you, Robert.”

He nearly shudders. “Oh, you’re in for it now. You know exactly what that does to me.”

You nod your head, giggling to yourself. “Why do you think I said it?”

After you saw him slowly making his way down your body, all you’ve felt is pure bliss.

-

And then it wasn’t, you don’t remember how it happened.

But suddenly you’re running around the room looking for your clothes. “You’re such an idiot,” you hiss in his direction while pulling up your pants.

“What?”

“Where the hell do you get off asking about some guy I don’t even remember. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Silence fills the room as you put on your shirt. You feel bad, you do; you shouldn’t have said that… even if it is true.

“You’re right I’m not.”

“I’m s-”

“I think it’s time I take up my parents offer on finding me a wife.”

Why does that comment feel like such a stab to your heart? “I hope you have fun with that then.” You grab your jacket and purse, shoes in one hand, the other opening his door. You lean against the door, covering your mouth so no one hears your cries.

-

You walk down the stairs and tiptoe out the door, just in time to see your best friend and her boyfriend. You walk ahead to your car, hoping she doesn't notice you're there.

As soon as you get yourself settled, the front door opens and he runs out, searching for you.

She gets out of the Jake's Tahoe, just in time to see her brother searching around like a mad man for God knows what. She can't tell because Jake just pulled away from the sidewalk and is blocking your car. "What is it?"

"I really messed up."

"What did you do?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? It can't be that bad." She squints, letting her eyes adjust to the dark and faint light outlining his figure. "Right?"

His head drops.

"What happened?"

"I," he quiets down, unsure of how to tell her that he's more of an idiot than they realized. "I messed up and I don't think I can fix it."

"Does it involve a person?"

He nods. "This is not how I wanted it to go."

"Let's go inside so you can explain to me what happened."

The two sneak back inside, not wanting anyone to know where they were or ask questions.

-

"You what?" She paces around his room. "No wonder it smells like sex in here. Oh, wait a minute. Is that why she sneaks out of my room so much?"

He removes his glasses, wiping them off and doesn't do much to hide his smirk.

“You’re a pig.”

“At least I’m not a whore who hides.”

She punches his arm, “stop deflecting the question.”

He flops back onto his bed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I was doing the one thing no brother should.”

“Yeah, canoodling my best friend, we’re past that. Honestly,” she lays down beside him. “I’m conflicted. On one hand, I’m happy you two finally got together but I’m also grossed out because you’re my brother.”

He chuckles, “yeah, I know. Thing is…”

“What?”

“We’re not actually… together.”

She pushes herself up. “You mean to tell me that you two were just,” she grimaces at the thought. “Gross.”

“I was trying to tell her but then I messed up.”

“What’d you do?”

“I brought up the guy she went on a date with and how I’d take up mom and dad’s help on finding a wife- Ow! Ow!” He raises his hands to defend himself. “What are you doing?”

“Smacking the stupid out of you.” She groans, rubbing a hand across her face. “You do realize that she never went on a date with that guy.”

He turns his head, staring at her with furrowed brows. “What are you saying?”

“Lucy and I made that up, so you’d get jealous and confess.”

“She never-”

“No,” she shakes her head.

-

The next few days are a little awkward for Bob; you ignore him and mainly stick to Natasha.

“I think you should talk to him,” she tells you as you look up something on your computer.

“No.”

“I think it’d be good for you.”

“And I think it’d be good if I never talk to him again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you nod. “He was such a jerk, and I don’t want to deal with anymore jerks in my life.”

“Look, I get it. I do but,” she wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I need you two be okay when Jake comes over.”

You gasp, “he’s finally coming to dinner.”

She nods, “tonight, which is why you and Bob are going to talk.”

“No.”

She shrugs and opens the door, forcing him into the room. “Talk.” She slams the door shut, holding the handle tightly.

You scoff, slamming your computer shut. “Go away.”

He shakes his head, “not until you hear what I have to say.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Please.”

You push yourself off the bed and point your finger at him as you talk. “You acted like a jealous boyfriend over a date I did not go on. And when I pointed out that you’re not, you told me that you’ll take your parents’ advice on finding a wife. What was I supposed to do? Lay back down so we could go for another round. No! You acted like a jerk, and I wasn’t going to stick around to see what else you’d say.”

He nods, slowly reaching for you; his warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you closer. “I know and I’m sorry. I overstepped and I- it’s- I don’t want you to… date anyone else.”

Your eyes glance between him and his hand.

“I don’t want to find someone else to be my wife because,” he groans, not knowing how you’ll react. “I want you.” He takes a step closer, leaving a mere few inches between you two. “I don’t think I could date or marry anyone else and not think of you.”

You gulp, “what about-”

He shakes his head and cups your cheek, resting his forehead on yours. “I broke up with her because she wasn’t the one person I dream about, you know. The only one who could stop me from having a tantrum and read to me when everyone else was too busy.”

You chuckle and hiccup, unable to stop the tears from flowing. “How do I know you’re not just saying this to make things right between us?”

“Have you ever seen me be this sweet to anyone else?”

You shake your head.

“Exactly. You’re the only one that I want, and I will fight anyone who tries to take you from me.”

You shake your head, smiling at his words and take a step forward, leaning into him, resting your forehead on his chest.

The door creaks open, “have you two made up?”

Neither of you respond.

“Good, now I don’t have to worry about it being awkward anymore. Thank God.” She groans.

“What?” Bob asks.

“Now, I have to pray neither of you are doing it.”

“Shut up,” you tell her, it comes out mumbled since you didn’t raise your head.

Penny calls you two down for dinner.

You take a couple extra minutes to pull yourself together. “Do I look okay?”

They assure you that you do and the three of you walk downstairs.

-

“Well, don’t you three look happy. Now, where’s your boyfriend?” Pete stares his daughter down.

All eyes land on Natasha, who shrinks under their gaze.

“He’s-” The doorbell rings. “Here,” she runs to the door.

You and Bob take a seat, waiting for everyone else to join.

The aunts ask him many questions about himself, what he does, how they met, etc.

But it got interesting when he told them he’s a vegetarian.

You snort and cover your face when everyone turns to you. “Sorry, sorry. I just- I thought of a really funny joke earlier… about- it doesn’t matter.”

Dinner officially begins, everyone reaches to grab a dish or a utensil, but you can’t get the one thing you want because it’s being passed around.

Bob notices and knows it’s hard to say something when everyone else is being so loud. “Hey!” He shouts.

The whole family stops and turns to him.

“Pass me that dish.”

You want to squirm in your seat but find yourself unable to when he starts scooping some of your favorite onto your plate.

He passes the dish back to his father.

You stare at your plate, unsure if that was a good thing for him to do, you two barely started talking again.

The family has barely begun to return to their previous conversations when you glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Thank you.”

He shrugs, “it was nothing.”

Natasha shakes her head.

Jake leans down and whispers into her ear, “is there something going there?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

-

Penny and Pete noticed how close you two were tonight, but don’t comment on it, knowing two kids in love won’t want to talk to- “two old people? Really, Pete?”

“What? You make it seem like I said a bad thing.”

“You’re an idiot.”

-

“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” you tell Jake.

He nods, “got it.”

You sneak into Bob’s room as he sneaks into Natasha’s room. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

You shrug, “yeah, well, when an adorable idiot confesses his feelings, you tend to want to talk spend time with him.”

He huffs, “I’m an idiot, huh.”

“Did you miss the part where I said you were adorable?”

“No,” he places his hands against your waist and pulls you closer. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

You stare at him through your lashes, leaving no visible emotion on your face. “Really?”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m going to-”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “Is there anything I can do to get you to stop?”

You smile as your curl your arms around his shoulders, “maybe.”

-

After Natasha and Jake’s wedding, everything seemed to calm down for them until someone (“never make fun of the ‘stache”) ratted you two out and it was your guys’ turn.

A few months after you two had been married it was time to announce your news.

“I’m pregnant!” You’ve never been given as many hugs as you did that afternoon.

“Wow, wow,” Jake says, holding you at arm’s length, looking as if he’s scared to hug you.

You narrow your eyes to him. “What’d you do?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“I’m pregnant!”

Penny embraces her daughter faster than you’ve ever seen.

“This feels like a Spartacus moment,” you comment.

Bob shakes his head. “You’ve gotten weirder since becoming pregnant.”

“Yeah, because your genes are inside me creating a life.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Whatever.”

“I hope they become as close as you two are.”

You wipe your cheeks, sniffling, “I knew I liked you for a reason, Jake.”

-

Sometime after that, you two go into labor and within a few hours your baby boy is born before your niece.

“He’s so cute,” you whisper, staring at your other favorite person.

Your husband nods, “he is.”

“I can’t believe we made him.”

“I know.”

“I’m telling Nat you cried.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You chuckle and lean your head against his shoulder, enjoying (the fact that you didn’t feel a thing) the newfound warmth knowing what the future is going to consist of.

-

Taglist

@blueoorchid

[hederasgarden]

A Firm Touch

Summary: Bob’s a giving lover, always putting your pleasure first but sometimes you want a firmer touch.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x F!Reader

W/C:

Rating: Explicit sexual content, 18+ only. Oral sex, deep throating, overstimulation, use of restraints and a sex toy. 

A/N: All the new photos of Lewis have made me feral and put me back on my Bob bullshit.@writercole and @antiquitea are to blame for this filth. Thank you @therebeccaw for beta'ing. The taglist is gone,please follow @hg-library.

Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist

Bob has you on your back tonight, wearing the sheer little nightie you bought special for last Valentine's Day. Your wrists are restrained by thin, leather straps that give you some range of motion but not enough to touch Bob or yourself. He’s standing above you, bright blue eyes thick with lust. Your head hangs off the side of the bed. He watches you for a beat, trailing the back of his hand over the swell of your cheek. Your eyes flutter and you open your mouth. 

He fucks your throat slow and deep, pausing every so often to admire the shape of his cock in your throat and how much of him you can take. His little groans have your cunt twitching around nothing, while the remote-controlled vibe that’s nestled against your clit keeps humming away at an intensity that’s a touch too low to give you what you actually need to come. When you roll your hips, whining and seeking more, the toy falls silent. Bob pushes deeper into your throat, his torso blocking out your line of sight. He gives your nipples a warning slap, the action sending a sharp jolt to your stomach.

You fall still at the silent reprimand, tongue slipping out to caress his cock in apology. He inhales sharply at the sight and the toy jumps to life a second later. You close your eyes and focus on his pleasure, careful not to shift your hips or be too greedy. Bob is a giving lover, always putting your pleasure first so it’s a special treat when he’s in this kind of mood. It tickles that baser, more primal part of your brain that craves submission.  

“That’s good,” Bob praises, pulling free and allowing you to take a breath that turns into a gasp when the vibe intensifies. 

Your fingers curl into fists and you lift the lower half of your body, moaning as the toy scratches that itch just right. Your sounds of pleasure are cut off when he pushes the thick head of his cock past your lips to block your airway once more. Again, the pulsing motion dies down as Bob fucks your throat. Your skin is warm and tingly. The desire for something more between your legs almost makes you squirm but you hold still, muscles bunched tightly. 

Bob curses and speeds up. “I’m gonna come,” he groans. “You gonna swallow it all for me?”

You hum in agreement, readying yourself for what he’s going to give you.

“God, yes,” he hisses. 

When he comes, you hear the click of the remote in his hands and the toy nestled against your clit buzzes at max intensity. Bob drops the slim black controller beside you on the bed and wraps his hands around your neck to drive himself even deeper. You groan around his cock, coming in quick, almost painful waves while his hot cum floods your belly.

You don’t even care that you can’t breathe at this point. Your whole body locks up in pleasure and your arms strain against the leather straps that keep your wrists pinned. Bob doesn’t slow down, softly-muttered words of praise slipping between his clenched jaw. From past experience you know he loves how your throat keeps trying to swallow him down while you’re both coming.

It’s this moment that always gets you. The way Bob can be in complete control up until the second he’s about to come and then he’s just as lost as you. You want it to stop. You never want it to stop. You think you could die happy like this with all your nerves on fire and the taste and smell of him all around you. Tonight you’re not the only one who ends up a little overstimulated…

Okay thank you for coming to my TedTalk!

[coyotesamachado]

Picture Perfect Porcelain

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader/Original Female Character

Her arm curls around the door so it’s lined up along the edge of it, Bob thinks he sees a droplet of water track from her wrist back down to her elbow, but his glasses are back in his locker and he really wishes they weren’t right now. He swallows thickly, because it’s different when he knows she’s naked behind there as opposed to it being salt water after she had been thrown into the ocean by Coyote during dogfight football.

Basically, I love hot showers.

Title is from Ever After by Marianas Trench.

Callsign is Mist.

This is cross posted from my AO3, link in the source.

WC: 2907.

Warnings: 18+, smut, hot showers, girl can’t deep throat, oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, rooster is a menace.

Walking into the shower room, Bob could kick himself. She always waits until everyone else is finished with their showers, because she likes to have hot showers, the kind of ones that turn the room into a sauna, and leave no hot water for anyone else. Apparently, he hadn’t been fast enough though, because Mist is in here and he still hasn’t had a shower.

The door closes behind him and he flinches as the resounding bang echoes around the room. He hears her gasp, and she’s opening the door to her stall and peaking her head out.

“Bob! Shit, sorry, I was told everyone had been through already, I’ll finish up,” she rushes out.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just have a cold one. I don’t mind,” he says quickly, trying to placate the situation because he doesn’t want to take away her shower time. His own are a moment to decompress from the day, and since she tends to take the longest and the hottest whenever she has the chance, he can only imagine that it’s the same for Mist. Her arm curls around the door so it’s lined up along the edge of it, Bob thinks he sees a droplet of water track from her wrist back down to her elbow, but his glasses are back in his locker and he really wishes they weren’t right now. He swallows thickly, because it’s different when he knows she’s naked behind there as opposed to it being salt water after she had been thrown into the ocean by Coyote during dogfight football.

“No seriously, just give me a minute and I'll wash all this soap off and then it’s all yours, plenty of water left.”

She pulls her arm back and goes to lock the door behind her when Bob speaks again, it’s so soft that she can barely hear him.

“What was that?” she calls out, her voice singing out over the noise of the shower.

Bob rubs the back of his neck, wondering whether he should repeat himself or just let those words disappear with the steam.

“Bob?”

This was going to end badly, he could tell.

“What if...”

The door opens again, her head and shoulder appear before him. While he wishes he had the kind of easy assurance that Hangman does to ask for what he wants, he doesn’t. It deflates him a little and he sighs.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be out in the locker room when you’re done,” he says, turning away from her and going to walk out.

“Wait! Were you... Are you... Will you...” she stutters, and she wishes she had the kind confidence that Phoenix has, to say what she wants without stuttering over it.

The steam is still thick around them, but it feels thicker than it had a minute ago.

“Bob, what if you just joined me, instead of waiting or...” she trails off again, and it’s so difficult to just put herself out there.

He turns back to her, and the door is open a little more, her collarbone now in his line of sight and he feels ridiculously overdressed. He stands there staring at her a beat too long and she breaths a long sigh.

“Sorry Bob, I just, I promise I’m nearly done, just forget what I said.”

It’s the door closing again that pulls Bob from his head and he’s dragging his shirt over his head, and unbuttoning his pants as he walks over. The shower turns off before he can knock or speak again. He feels like his lost his shot, but for once, he doesn’t want to walk away from it without trying.

“Turn it back on,” there’s a demand in his voice, and it kind of shocks him because he only really talks like that when he’s in the plane and needs Phoenix to do something in particular. He hears the gasp behind the door, and he smirks to himself. But her shower is back on and he feels the steam where he’s standing. The snick of the lock opening again captures his attention, and his heart is beating an unhealthy rhythm. Her hand is darting out like she’s trying to grab his shirt and pull him in, but when she only meets the smooth skin of his chest, there’s a choked off groan hitting the back of her throat.

She pulls open the door and steps back into the heat of the water, hoping the steam gives her a little bit of modesty. For the fact that Bob isn’t wearing his glasses, he really wishes she was closer right now. He drops his shirt on the little bench seat next to him, and turns to lock the door behind him. He takes in a deep breath, it’s all humid air at this point, and tells himself he can do this. She’s watching him carefully from where she’s near pressed up against the back corner. She feels like she should look away, but he’s bending down to shed himself of his pants and she can’t take her eyes off him. He folds both his pants and underwear neatly and puts them with his shirt, and her eyes are glued to the curve of ass down to the muscle of his thighs. When he turns, she’s suddenly very interested in the tile beneath her feet.

He hisses when the water touches his skin, used to the more tepid temperatures that came with being on a carrier, not this, which feels like she hasn’t even got the cold water turned on.

“You can turn it down, I won’t die not having a hot as hell shower,” she laughs, and it’s cutting through the tension, so Bob feels himself smiling.

“I’d rather not walk out looking like a lobster,” his voice is jovial, but he means it as he tries to avoid giving Hangman another reason to tease him.

“I think you’d make a very attractive lobster.”

And that’s what breaks his resolve, so he turns to face her, finally close enough that he can see the droplets of water caught on her collar bone, the lines of her hair plastered to her shoulder, and he picks a freckle that’s sitting right there at the front so he’s got something to look at.

“You’re being a gentleman,” she utters, taking a step closer to him. And yeah, he is, because this feels like he’s about to wake up any moment, alone in his bed and he’ll miss the heat of the shower. He doesn’t know how he’ll look at her in the morning if that’s the case.

He’s just blinking at her, and he knows he should be doing something but it’s been a while since he’s been in this position. Well, not this position exactly, but a woman, naked in front of him isn’t something that happens every day.

“Bob, I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispers and she’s right in front of him, her eyelashes sticking together in the damp. She places a hand on his cheek, her thumb moving in a comforting motion, but she’s really waiting for him to tell her to stop, to tell her that he doesn’t want this.

When he doesn’t, she gives him a gentle kiss, and Bob’s grateful that his brain switches back on in that moment, and he’s able to kiss her back rather than just stand there dumbly. His hand wraps around her hip and his thumb digs into the soft flesh above it. He backs her up until her back hits the wall of the stall and she’s barely in the spray of the water. She sucks in a breath at the change of temperature that hits her suddenly.

A quick sorry is mumbled against her lips, but she shifts her hand to the back of his neck, her other one reaching up to meet it, so she can pull him closer and deepen their kiss.

He hisses when the heat of her skin is pressed up against his chest, and she grins into him. She breaks the kiss but keeps him close and Bob doesn’t really know what to do with that information.

“We should get you cleaned up.”

“We should?”

“Mmhmm.”

And she’s letting him go, slipping from between him and the wall, and if he wasn’t getting hard before, the drag of her body would do it.

He smells the citrus of her body wash, and no, he would not admit to anyone else that he had paid that close of attention to her, that he recognizes the scent of her soap. There’s a slip of her hands on his back, the cold of her wash, and he moans at the feel of her hands running over him. She rubs at the knots in his shoulders, he feels them loosening up in the warmth of the shower and the careful ministrations of her fingers. She runs her hands down the length of his back, over the curve of his ass and he jumps a little when she smacks him gently. The soap suds fall around their feet as her laughter rings through the shower room.

She moves around him, a hand on the back of his neck, up over his shoulder and down the line of his chest. He finds the freckle on her shoulder again, giving something to focus on rather than the feel of her hands against him. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on her work as she lathers him up. He finds it just a little bit adorable when he looks back up at her, and he wonders whether she does it while she’s flying. God, now he’s going to be thinking about that when he’s up in a plane. Thankfully, Phoenix sits in front of him.

Her eyes roam over him, easily giving herself permission to look. Her hands track a path over his chest, down his front until her hands dip low across his hips and he sucks in a breath through his teeth at the sensation.

“You don’t...” “I want to,” she interrupts quickly, not giving him a chance to shy away from her.

Bob moans loudly at the feeling of her hand wrapped around him because it’s been so long since it wasn’t his own hand. She kisses him quickly, trying to silence him, but it’s messy as laughter starts falling from her lips, because it doesn’t work. So instead, she buries her face in his neck as her body wracks with her giggles. It brings a smile to his own face, despite the fact that her hand is still on his cock. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her under the shower spray with him, and grins when she looks up at him, hair plastered to her forehead. He pushes it away with a gentle hand before gripping the side of her face and kissing her hard. He bites at her bottom lip when she squeezes him, her hand slick with water and soap, so she glides easily over him. When her thumb pushes on his tip, Bob tosses his head back, when she does it again, the moan is ripped from him, echoing off the walls of the shower room.

“Shhh Bob, someone might walk in,” she chides, but the fact she swipes her thumb over it a third time, tells him there’s absolutely no heat behind it.

She pushes him up against the opposite wall, giving him a quick smirk before she’s squatting down in front of him and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

“Oh fuck,” he utters, and Mist grins because she doesn’t think the word ever sounded so sweet.

It’s not comfortable, but knees on a tile floor would be significantly worse. She takes him in her mouth and Bob honestly doesn’t know what to do with his hands right now. It’s an overload for his senses, the heat of her mouth and hand around him, the near suffocating steam, the spray of the water and the cold wall behind him. It’s a lot.

She works her mouth over him, trying to take him as far as she can, but she can only get to her hand before she’s choking and pulling back with a cough.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, before trying again with the same result, it’s definitely not as easy as they make it look in porn. But Bob places a comforting hand on her cheek, like he’s telling her that she’s doing great, that it’s the effort that counts. So, she swirls her tongue around the head, focusing on making that feel good while her hand takes care of the rest of his length. His breath is coming out in short pants mixed with the occasional moan when she twists her hand just so, and then her hand is speeding up while her tongue laves over him, and Bob’s moans grow louder and more frequent until he’s pulling her by her hair off him and she’s moaning at the sensation. He comes, it mostly missing her still open mouth but landing in painted stripes across her cheek, chin and chest. Bob wishes he had photographic memory at that point, because it’s an image he never wants to forget.

It’s cleaned off pretty quickly with her in the direct line of the shower.

She stands up slowly, taking Bob’s offered hand to help her, and once she’s level again, he's on her in an instant. His mouth slips over hers and he’s quickly deepening the kiss before she can really react. She wraps her arms around him again, pressing closer this time, and he’s less careful in his movements now. His hands run up and down the length of her back, over her sides and when he brushes the swell of her breasts, she huffs out a satisfied breath. He turns them around, taking the heat of the shower spray, one of his hands running down the length of her body until his fingers are sliding through her folds, teasing her gently. She’s so so wet, and Bob wonders idly whether she touches herself when she showers or if getting him off really affected her that much. A part of him wants to ask, but the other part of him doesn’t really want to know the answer to that. The self-conscious part of him is telling him that it’s just a part of her nightly ritual, but the other part that can acknowledge her soft moans and the cant of her hips chasing his fingers, tells him that it’s all about him.

He circles one of his fingers over her clit, drawing the sweetest sounds from her, and his cock jumps in interest. She’s practically mewing under his hands, but it’s just not enough for her.

“Please Bob,” she whines, her voice high pitched. He smirks at her and pushes a finger inside her, groaning at the heat around him. He brings his lips to hers again, and he swallows her little moans like they’re an oasis in the dessert. His thumb swipes over her clit as they kiss, and he hopes he’s making her feel as good as she made him feel.

As he plunges two fingers inside her, he pulls her hair at the same time, and Mist near about screams at the sensation. Bob hadn’t realized hair pulling was a thing he liked until it made her make those pretty little sounds, and by God, if he hadn’t just come, he’d be coming again. She rocks herself back and forth on his fingers, and the only thing that would make it better, is if it was his cock inside of her instead of his fingers. But then her moans pitch up and she drops her head to his shoulder, sucking messy, wet kisses there while she rides his fingers to her orgasm. He tugs on her hair again and she’s trembling around him, coming silently like it’s a surprise.

He lets go of her hair and wraps that arm around her, holding her close as he slows his fingers. He slips them from her when she stops shaking and washes them off in the shower that’s slowly cooling. When she looks up at him again, her smile is bright, but her expression quickly turns to embarrassment when she notices the line of red and purpling bruises she had sucked into his collar while she rode out her high.

“I’m so sorry Bob, I’ll help you hide those,” she says quickly, tucking her chin and looking down.

“Hey, no need for that Mist, don’t care if anyone sees them,” he says, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up at him.

He’s smiling, satiated and happy, glad that she had been in the shower when he’d walked in. She smiles shyly back, and he kisses her again, this time soft, like an assurance that everything is fine between them. He holds her close, pressing his forehead to hers and she finds something comforting in that.

“If you ever want a round t....”

“Yes, absolutely, as soon as possible.”

-

Phoenix walks into their common area, and throws herself on the lounge opposite Rooster.

“Where’s Mist?” she asks him.

“Showers,” he grunts in response.

“What about Bob?”

Rooster has the decency to look a little sheepish as he finally catches her eye.

“Showers.”

Phoenix’s jaw drops.

“Rooster, what did you do?

[stargazing15]

Worth the wait

Bob x Fem!reader

Summary: The daggers are back from their deployment. How will the reunion with Bob go? After all he hadn't tried to contact you, not even a 'We're on our way back'.

Warnings: injury (nothing bad), fluff

A/N: okay, I gave in, Bob is too cute okay - still thinking on how to make our dear Bobby sweat 😅

Previous: What a timing - Next: Make the boy sweat

Enjoy!

Tired, heart palpitations, scared, anxious, that all summed up how you were feeling for the past two weeks. No communication, even Penny was left in the dark.

Then, finally, a text from Penny that they were on their way back home. First night of good sleep. They were all okay, Bob was coming back.

The strange thing was that you got a text from Phoenix with the exact date and hour of arrival and when they would be able to meet you at the Hard Deck. Of course in the middle of your workday and of course your boss wasn't allowing an early leave for the day. Bob had sounded excited to start over with you again, so why wasn't he the one texting you?

Despite the lack of communication from Bob's side, you had messaged him quite a few times over the last few days, only they didn't get the normal recieved-icon.

Focusing on the positive part, everyone coming home, you put on the new dress you bought. It was hugging your curves in all the right ways and it was loose from your hips. If Bob maybe had lost interest in you, maybe someone else would.

Some guys at work indeed appreciated your dress, it weren't creepy comments, as you knew the persons behind the whistles. They knew what you've been through and are trying to lighten up the mood. And it did lift your spirit getting nice compliments.

After a long workday, you were more than happy to hop in your car and go to the Hard Deck to meet everyone. The moment you entered, you got attacked by Khaki-uniforms hugging you. Only one was missing, the one you were secretly longing for.

"So, he ain't coming?" Disappointment was written all over your face.

"Oh Y/N, he is coming, he needs to make a stopover before he can come here. You'll understand when you see him." Phoenix chuckled.

While catching up with everyone, your neck and shoulders started to get sore. You were one of those where stress always took it out on your body. While talking to Coyote, he had noticed it too on your posture and suggested to massage your neck. On queue, as you were thinking about to call it a day, because of the wait for Bob and the anxiety for the reason him not being here had drained you, the front door opened. You only hadn't noticed it yet, being a little too engulfed in your conversation with Coyote. You had been able to preorder the new limited edition sneakers you knew he wanted to add to his collection. Only they came out with Coyote being stuck on the carrier without Internet. That the man was as happy as a child got the coolest gift ever was an understatement, so the massage was a little thank you.

Bob was now behind you, slightly hurt by the sight in front of him: you and Coyote, again, this time he was massaging you. Only, did he know Coyote probably was going to marry his sneaker-collection first before ever trying to hit on you.

Bob's soft "hmm" broke you out of Coyote's heavenly massage. When you turned around, shock washed over you as you saw Bob's appearance. "Oh my god, Bob! What happened? I thought they said no one was injured?"

"No one got injured during the mission. I, uh, funny story. After the debrief I got a little too excited be going home, to see you again and I, uh, tripped over my own feet. My arm broke the fall." Still fueled on your anxiety and tiredness you slapped Bob on the cheeks. It was not too hard, but hard enough to leave a light pink handprint visible on his cheek.

Only one emotion had now filled the area: shock. Not just Bob, everyone was shocked by your reaction.

"I - uh for making me worry sick while I should be mad at you. I still should be so mad at you, no communication, nothing. But I can't." The last part you had whispered. "S-sorry Robby, oh god, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm so confused. Sorry, I-I-"

"L-let's talk outside." The second you slapped him, his insecurities and shyness had come back. Just like the day you met, but this time around he knew what he could loose.

The jitters were back in his belly, his legs suddenly felt a little wobbly when he saw you. He was still in awe by your appearance. Even in joggers you looked like an angel to him, but this dress, damn. The prettiest angel existing. Only he hadn't expect the angel palming a hand on his cheek. But you had a point. He could have borrowed Phoenix' phone to call you, but he didn't.

Bob had taken your hand in his to lead you outside, but froze for a second at your touch. The way your hand fits perfectly in his, the not injured one, made you both forget your surroundings for a moment. The world around you had fade away, just a couple of seconds it was only Bob and you, you and Bob. Just a couple of seconds of piece, before getting greeted again with reality.

Bob took you a little further down the beach, where you two had escaped a lot more in the past for a little one-on-one time. "Is uhm, is it okay here?" He knew he shouldn't be nervous or shy around you anymore, but he couldn't fight it. He knew this was his last chance with you and already felt like failing for not trying to call you. So everything now had to be calculated and thought through.

"It's nice here, thank you, has nice memories." You said while taking your sandals off before plopping down on the sand and signalling Bob to sit next to you.

He sat down next to you letting your knees touch. The body heat radiating from underneath his khakis felt like a welcome home. So you decide to melt into the feeling, as did Bob.

After a silence, contemplating what to say to you, his soft voice broke the silence. "How are you?"

"I don't know, happy that everyone came back safely, tired, I - I don't know, I feel so many things. It's so confusing." You only had noticed your head feeling heavy from all the overthinking and worrying when it landed on Bob's shoulder. The band of his arm sling felt scruffy on your skin, but you didn't mind.

"Sorry for slapping you Robby. When no one wanted to tell me where you were in combination with that I hadn't heard anything from you personally, I thought that, I thought you went back to her. That made me so angry and scared and then I saw you with the cast, I was relieved. But with the tiredness and all these emotions - I'm sorry." You lifted your head up and caressed the cheek you hit gently.

"It's okay beautiful angel, I got back and I will never, and listen good, never go back to her. You are a thousand, no a million times better than her. And I was dumb enough to not realize that when I made that stupid decision."

"You basically cheated on me, in front of me and that really hurt, I should still hate you, but I can't. So don't mess up ever again, okay?"

Bob stuck out his pinky, "Definitely yes, I will even pinky promise that to you." You intertwined your pinky with his. "I will work hard to call you mine again." He had finally gained confidence towards you again, the sweet blushy smile on his face showed it. "So this dress..." There was a slight hint at the tone of his voice.

"Seems it is working." A small mischievous smile appeared on your lips too.

"For me?"

"Don't push your luck too much Robby, I am going soft on you today. Only because you are injured. From tomorrow on, your making it up to me will start."

"Yes Ma'am, I will be at your service tomorrow," he did a little salute at you accompanied with his bright smile. "I love it when you call me Robby." His voice had lowered.

"As I said, going soft on you today. I had missed your company. Do, do you think we can be us again? Like before?"

Bob let his hand caress your cheek lovingly, you melted at his touch. This made you realize even more how much you had missed being together with him. His touch felt like coming home, it was warm and familiar, but good familiar.

"I know we will need time, let the wounds heal properly. And if you still want us back, I will not make you regret it. I still love you." You snuggled even closer to him, if that was even possible, almost colliding with the cast around his other arm.

"You mean that?" The look on your face was almost like an emoji, your eyes were big and your lower lash line was decorated with tears, happy tears

"Every single word beautiful angel. I will fight for you, I don't care how long it takes, but I need you in my life, you're the only one who makes me genuinely happy. I know it will all be worth the wait."

"Oh Robby." One of the tears on your lower lash line had now escaped down on your cheek. Bob quickly laid his free hand on your cheek and removed the tear with his thumb. Your hearts started to beat out of your chests. Neither was able to look away, your eyes were locked on each other as if magnets were attached. And it felt so intimate.

Your hand made it's way up to join Bob's one on your cheek. Giving in into the moment, your body moved itself forward, leaving just enough space not to crush his arm. That close, your lips were almost touching with Bob's. Before you let your mind get the chance to take over your heart you leaned and let your lips touch. You had missed the feeling of his lips against yours. Yes, you still remembered how the short kiss was before Bob left, this one just felt so different.

Bob also leaned in into the kiss and also let his heart speak up. Neither wanted this moment to stop, so you both didn't. Your lips were magically making love to each other. Not in an erotical way, in a way where your souls were speaking to each other, saying the loveliest and cheesiest words, at this moment real words would be calculated, thought through and maybe even swallowed back in due to hesitation. While the kiss, the kiss was coming from deep down, hidden underneath all the fear of the what ifs and insecurities. That feeling deep down was more than pure happiness, this moment was surrounded with an incredible sense of love and safety. Like it was saying "It's alright, let it all go, give in, let love in, it is really alright and yes it does exist." Was the history forgotten? For a moment yes, and the fact you could kiss Bob again like this and not overthink, made your heart a little lighter.

Bob was the first to let go of the kiss. His eyes immediately met yours, searching for anything in yours. Anything that would give him hope. And your soft smile gave him that.

"That was -"

"-wow." He finished your sentence.

"Yeah." Still a bit dazed from the kiss, you seated yourself again next to Bob with your head on his shoulder.

"I am going to fight so hard for you. I know it was the moment speaking, but it was a good reminder what I'm fighting for. I don't mind the battle, it will be all with it, beautiful angel."

"Thank you Robby, for understanding. And being here." Bob gained new energy, he knew you were probably going to make him sweat a bit, but he actually didn't mind. You wanted him back, and that was all what mattered, despite the upcoming 'obstacles' on the way.

The two of you stayed like that, staring at the glinstering waves under the moonlight.

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @cycbaby @bradleybeachbabe @mavrellover91 @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @xoxabs88xox @apparently-sunshine

Tagform

[t-nd-rfoot]

MIRRORS & GLASSES aka Different Reflections

You are more than what you see in yourself.

Summary Bob gives you words of encouragement to help you feel better about yourself

Pairing Robert Floyd x reader

Theme angst, with a happy ending

Warning/s body dysmorphia; obsessive looking into mirrors

Word Count 844

Note This turned out very different from what I had planned, and it ended up being about something very close to home. Body dysmorphia is no joke, and I feel that this ficlet barely scratches the surface of how serious it can actually get, but this fic is based on part of my own experiences with it and what I choose to share of it.

And million, billion thanks to @hangmanbrainrot for being an overall amazing person and for beta reading this for me! I wouldn’t have had the courage to post this if it weren’t for you 💗

If you suffer or think you suffer from body dysmorphic disorder, please seek out help at your local healthcare provider. Reach out to loved ones that you can confide in and turn to for help. You are loved, and you are not alone in your journey. Full fic under the cut for you to read at your own discretion.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

It was a mirror. Not a magnifying glass. Not a microscope. But a mirror.

Yet all you saw were the details. The flyaway hairs that had a mind of their own. The fine hairs on your upper lip that looked even thicker today than yesterday. The shirt that hung unflatteringly on your shoulders. The pants that seemed awkwardly tight at the hips. Just to name a few.

At the back of your mind, you kept wishing that this mirror was a fake���the kind that made you look distorted like the ones at the carnival. But this was just an ordinary IKEA mirror, so it only showed you your true reflection. And there was no hiding anything when in front of a mirror.

And you hated that.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?” Your boyfriend called at you from the other side of the bathroom door.

Bob. If you couldn’t stand to see yourself like this, you were even more scared to be in front of someone else—let alone, him.

“Uh, you go on ahead,” you replied as steadily as you could. You sat on the floor observing the mess you made: the makeup strewn across the counter from trying to hide the flaws you found on your face, and the piles of clothes around you after trying on multiple outfits and not feeling good in a single one.

A soft knock echoed from behind the door accompanied with an equally soft voice sounding your name. “Is everything okay?”

When you didn’t reply, Bob peeked his head inside the room and found you sitting with your back against the wall. Defeat hung on your face while frustration simmered inside you.

“Oh, honey,” he sighed and knelt in front of you, “what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Nothing works. No matter what I do or what I wear, I look like shit. I feel like shit.” On the verge of tears, you ducked your head in shame as you picked at the hem of your shirt. “I put on too much makeup, I look silly. But if I don’t, I look terrible. None of my clothes fit me right—half of them are from when I was a different size, and the other half that do fit don’t make me feel like…me.”

You let out a sad laugh. “Sorry, I know it sounds silly, me complaining about clothes and makeup…I know everyone says that you shouldn’t always rely on those things to make you feel good, and I try not to. I really try not to.” You tucked your knees to your chest, trying to hide yourself even more. “But it’s so hard to like who I am when I don’t like what I see, you know? I feel like I’m looking at a stranger; I don’t feel like myself.”

With his fingers placed gently under your chin, he lifted your head to face him, “Hey, baby,” he whispered, “look at me.” As soon as your eyes locked with his, he wiped away with the pads of his thumbs the couple of tears that managed to run down your cheeks. He wasn’t a stranger to you crying, but he’d never seen you this hurt.

“You are beautiful, okay? Even when you don’t feel like it, you are. You’re always as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside. Yeah, your body’s not gonna be the same forever, and neither will mine. But we’re still going to be us. And through all those changes, I promise you, I will love those new parts of you just as much as I love the old ones. And I hope you’ll love those parts of you, too, even more than I do right now.”

As he spoke, you saw your reflection in the lens of his glasses. You saw your messy hair, your tear-stained face, and your rumpled clothes. But behind your reflection, there was no mistaking of the safety, assurance, and love you saw in Bob’s eyes. And when he looked at you like that, he was looking at everything, more than what a mirror could ever show.

“And honestly, darling, I happen to think you look good in anything,” he announced, making a small laugh and smile escape your lips, “not that what I think should matter, but I just want to point the truth out to you. Whether you’re in your baggiest sweats or your tightest dress, you take my breath away.”

You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger in sincere gratitude.

“Thank you, Robby,” you sighed, letting his speech wash over you.

“You’re very welcome, baby.” He returned your kiss with his own on your forehead. “One thing’s for sure.”

“What is?” you asked.

Bob placed his hand on your back, motioning you to move forward. He sat behind you, his legs at your sides, and his arms wrapped around you in the biggest bear hug you’ve ever received.

“There’s always one place you’re gonna fit in: right here in my arms.”

Disclaimer  I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

Edited layout

[mountainrooster]

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD

STANDALONES

gorgeous [coming soon]

= five moments bob floyd was the most gorgeous man in the world

SERIES

walden pond [coming soon]

= you had always known that bob's path would lead him to the navy, out of the small wyoming town you were both from, even as he struggled to choose between it and engineering. but what you hadn't considered was where his desperate fight to get out of town would leave you. a whole decade after bob left, you prepare to see him again on the single most important job in both your careers.

to have faith is to have wings [coming soon]

= you know what people expect from you as a seresin, even if that isn't who you are. it's easier to play the role of someone else, someone else who had a stable childhood, someone else who wasn't afraid of every choice they made. what must it be like to finally open up to someone?

[promisingyounglady]

four eyes. | BF x Reader

PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term ‘slut’, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,

A/N: this is the most filthiest shit I’ve ever written and if you like this ur crazy… *reblogs, comments and likes the post*

“What are you up to?” he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.

You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.

“I wanna try these on” you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.

You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.

The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.

A firm hand comes to still yourself. “Careful” he says softly, hands warm.

Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.

“You don’t wanna wear these, they don’t look good on anyone. Including me.” he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.

But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. “I like them, they’re cute,” you tell him.

“Well what d’ya know?” Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi there, four eyes” he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase he’s been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.

Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.

“Jesus, Bob, you really are blind!” You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.

Bob’s become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending he’s listening.

“You should go to the eye doctor, honey”

Bob peaks through, giving you a look. “That’s where I got them”

“Hm.”

The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bob’s lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.

“You’re so soft.” he murmurs.

“Honey,” you call to your boyfriend.

“Hm?” Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.

You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.

“I wanna try something.” you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.

Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.

Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Come sit, Robert” you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.

His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.

“I want you to cum on these glasses”

Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.

“What?”

You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.

“Baby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!”

You’re worried you’re going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.

You’ve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. It’s not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.

He’s panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.

“You gotta let me speak-“

“Please, Bobby” you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.

“I want you to cum while I have your glasses on” you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. “Like in those pornos” you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.

“Nobody says pornos anymore” he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.

Bob clears his throat. “You, um, want me to give you a facial?” He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.

You nod eagerly.

“A-Are you sure?” He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy can’t help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.

You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.

“Please, honey, I want you to see me painted” you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.

Bob thinks he’s gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. “Let me know if it's too much baby” he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.

You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. “Want you so bad, Bobby, let me suck you”

Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bob’s big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.

The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floyd’s dick.

You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.

Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.

“That’s it baby, doing so well for me” he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.

“God, I love you!” he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.

”So pretty, such a pretty girl” he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.

“I love you too, Bobby” you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.

”H-How,” he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. “How did I get so lucky with you?” He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses you’re wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.

“I think I’m gonna cum, baby” he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.

“Please baby, give it to me” you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors don’t brush against your folds.

Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.

Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.

“Fucking hell” Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.

You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bob’s glory.

You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.

It’s only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry for the mess” he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.

“It’s okay” you reply, voice hoarse. You couldn’t help but feel happy, even if you didn’t cum (Bob would see to it later of course).

You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.

“You’re crazy sometimes, you know that?” Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.

You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.

”Thank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.” He jokes.

”Thanks for the facial” you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so you’re straddling him again.

Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.

You put on the glasses again. He looks up.

“Bobby, where’s the Polaroid camera?”

[bobgasm]

oh, admiral | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 1555 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], role play, slight dub con, an homage to fleabag s2 [2019], superior/subordinate, admiral robert “bob” floyd, shoe riding, office sex, degradation/humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, breeding kink, excessive use of the word ‘cunt’,

summary: in which you would do anything for admiral floyd…

author’s note: based off this post by @lewmagoo about the new lew pics 🤤 tysm again for letting me write this!

oneshot | masterlist | ao3

You stand before Admiral Floyd with your head held high, despite your metaphorical tail tucked between your legs. You listen to him rant and rave about your recklessness, that two of your team are now in the med bay seriously injured.

You knew the maneuver was stupid. You knew better than to use them as a decoy so you could get behind the enemy. They’d agreed to it – they knew the risks, but you were the superior. You shouldn’t have even humoured the idea, let alone voiced it.

Admiral Floyd paced the room in front of you. You hated that he looked so good, with his hair pushed back and his stupid Navy regulated glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The way the sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up his arms haphazardly to reveal his forearms – tanned and muscular. How the fuck were his forearms so sexy?

He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose with two thick fingers. You felt your pussy clench at the sight of his hands – his forearms. The way the muscles flexed with the slight exertion.

“I can’t let you walk out of here without some kind of punishment on your record, Captain.”

You hated how crisp his white shirt was, tucked into the waistband of his dark trousers. How his medals gleamed in the light of his office over his left breast. 

“I’ll take whatever punishment you deem necessary, Sir, but I implore you not to take my wings.”

“What makes you think I give a single fuck about what you implore me to do?” He snapped. “This isn’t the first time you’ve broken protocol, Captain. I have to make an example out of you. This shit doesn’t fucking fly around here, and neither do you. You’re suspended for three months, pending further investigation.”

“Sir,” you pleaded, stepping closer to him, aware of the desperation in your voice.

Bob’s head snaps towards you, his icy gaze freezing you in place.

“Sir, I’ll do anything.” You continued, watching him slip his glasses back onto his face. “I know it was a stupid call. It should be me in the med bay, not Mayhem and Puff. I’ll do anything to make it right, just please. Please don’t suspend me.”

Admiral Floyd chuckled humourlessly and walked towards one of the armchairs in his office. You watched him walk. The way his shirt hugged his muscular back. The way his long legs made short work of closing the distance between himself and the chair.

“Come here, Captain,” he instructed, eyes trained on your own as you swallowed thickly. He caught the almost imperceptible gulp and the way your gaze dropped to his lips, then lower. And even lower. 

“Sir?” You asked, cocking your head slightly once you were stood in front of him.

“On your knees, Captain. I want you to beg me not to take your wings,” he said, voice rough. He was barely able to stop himself from adjusting his throbbing cock, hands white-knuckling the arms of the chair as you slowly sunk to your knees. 

“Please, Sir,” you began, aware that it was a weak effort. Seeing him before you like this, legs spread, eyes dark and lips parted as he quickly gulped in each breath. You hadn’t even started. “Admiral Floyd.”

“What?!” He hissed, voice thick and gravelly as he took in your appearance. Your hooded eyes, laboured breathing. On your knees between his legs. God, you were a sight. 

“Sir, I–,” you let out an involuntary sob. “–I need this job more than anything. Flying is my life. Being a pilot is all I’ve ever dreamed of. You can’t, Sir.” You were laying it on thick with tears and trembling voice. “Please, I, the investigation will ruin me, Sir.”

“Fuck you for calling me ‘Sir’ like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he growled, pressing the toe of his impeccably shiny shoe snug against the apex of your thighs. Just a little more and the point would be pressed against your clothed clit. 

You gasped at the sudden feeling, clamping your legs around his shoe and staring up at him through wide eyes and wet lashes and splotchy cheeks. “I–Sir?”

“You said you’d do anything,” he continued. “Prove it, Captain.”

“I don’t–what?”

“Ride my shoe, Captain. Get yourself off. Prove to me just how desperately you don’t want the investigation to happen. If I like what I see…” He shifted slightly and your eyes dropped to his crotch where his erection strained against his trousers. “How desperate are you, Captain?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you rocked your hips against the point of his shoe, a low groan rumbling in your chest as you grazed your clothed clit against the leather. “Sir,” you whimpered, adding more pressure. Feeling your arousal dampening your underwear as you continued your ministrations. The slow rocking of your hips, your hands gripping his leg for stability.

“That’s a good girl,” he purred, watching your head fall back as you succumbed to the pleasure. “Fuck, look at you. So pretty, so desperate.”

“Sir, I–” 

A moan tore through you, cutting off whatever you were about to say. Admiral Floyd reached forward to cup your cheek, tenderly at first, before roughly gripping your face and forcing your mouth open. 

“Look at me when you cum all over my shoe, Captain,” he growled, earning a whimper in response. “You’re a fucking mess. Pathetic. You could’ve got your wingmen killed, Captain.”

A strangled sob sounded around the room. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks. When you opened them again it was a struggle. A struggle to see your superior have such control over you. A struggle to hear him tell you that you’d fucked up. A struggle to cum while he goaded you with your mistakes.

But you were so close. You cried out as you came, legs clamping tighter around his shoe, body shaking with the intensity. Feeling both euphoria and disappointment was overwhelming. You’d fucked up and he’d made a spectacle out of you. 

And fuck if that look in his eyes hadn’t branded it’s place in your soul for the rest of eternity.

Admiral Floyd chuckled as he dropped his hand from your face and settled back into the chair. “Look at what you’ve done, Captain.” He gestured to his crotch as he lowered his foot back to the ground. You whimpered at the loss of contact. “You’ve ruined my shoe, too.”

“I–I’m sorry, Sir.”

He clicked his tongue. You at least had the nerve to hold his gaze even as his hand brushed over his crotch.

“I should take you over my desk,” he pondered. “Make you walk out of here crying while my seed drips out of your cunt, hm?”

“Anything, Sir,” you repeated. “I’ll do anything.”

If that didn’t set him off, you didn’t know what would. He growled as he hauled you to your feet, undoing his pants just enough to get his cock out. Roughly pulling your own trousers down to your knees as he bent you over his desk and sank his cock deep into your sopping cunt.

You cried out as he roughly spanked your ass. Once, twice, three times. Each cheek stinging under the impact, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. He gripped your hips roughly, cock stretching you to the point it hurt. Giving you no time to warm to the intrusion before he pulled out and his hips snapped against your ass, bottoming out almost entirely.

“Sir!” You wailed, forearms braced on his desk. The solid mahogany roughly scraping against the floor with each relentless thrust.

“Shit, squeezing my cock so fucking good,” he praised. “Knew you’d like it rough. Reckless. It’s how you fly.”

You moaned as the tip of his cock brushed the spongy wall inside you that had you seeing stars. 

“Fucking hell, gonna cum deep inside your cunt, Captain,” he cursed. “Beg me for it. Beg for me to finish inside you.”

“P-please,” you sobbed. “Please cum inside me, Sir. I need it. Need to feel you filling me up. Need to learn my lesson.”

“That’s fucking right.” He growled lowly. “Gonna flood your womb. Fuck, Captain. Taking my cock exactly how I always imagined.”

His grunts and moans drowned out your own whimpers and sobs. He was so close, you could feel the way his thrusts got more frantic. The way his breathing hitched and you flexed your pelvic muscles around him. He came hard, grunting out your name and praising your cunt for squeezing him so good. 

No praise for you, just your cunt.

He stilled his movements, planting one more solid smack to your left cheek before pulling out.

“How was that, baby?”

“My legs feel like jelly,” you confessed with a laugh, pushing yourself up as he helped redress you. “You really got into it.”

“The tears drove me fucking wild,” he admitted, tucking himself back into his trousers before cupping your face. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you mewled, melting into his touch as he sweetly kissed you. Hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing away your tears. “I love you. Congratulations again on the promotion.”

“Thank you, darlin’. I love you, too.”

[frost-queen]

It comes with perks (Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: When you need someone to be your fake boyfriend to get you out of a situation with your ex, Hangman is the closest guy you find. What needed to be a one time thing, turned out into a long term act of fake dating. Certainly now that your dad Iceman is involved in as well. Slowly the lines of fake dating fade as Hangman becomes obessed with you, a ray of sunshine. When your ex tries to get back in your life, Jake becomes protective, finally ending those unclear lines of fake dating.

Phoenix and you entered Penny’s bar when your phone suddenly rang. Taking it out, the nametag on it made your eyes widen. You touched Phoenix on her shoulder, letting her know you needed a moment. She simply smiled, heading further into the bar to the booth were Bob, Coyote and Fanboy already were. The phone kept buzzing as you weren’t sure what to do. Panicking a bit as to say. You knew not picking up, would do nothing as he would just keep calling you.

Answering was even terrible, as you knew he’d say anything to get you to yield. Like a collective caller, kept he calling you. Looking around frantically, you spotted the first person at Penny’s bar. You rushed over to the bar, pulling Hangman back by his shoulder. – “Emergency, you’re my boyfriend.” – you breathed out, holding the phone out to him. Hangman smiled cocky. – “Well, well. If you were desperate for a kiss, you’d just had to ask Y/n.” – Hangman replied all smug to your annoyance.

“No. No! You’re not actually my boyfriend.” – you informed him hastily. Hangman furrowed his brows, frowning. – “Make up your mind girl.” – he let out confused to what was happening. You moved your phone higher up for him to notice. – “I need you to be my boyfriend and make him stop calling me!” – you called out almost frantically at how slow he was catching up.

“Right.” – He simply said, setting a beer down and taking your phone in his hand. He answered the phone, giving you a cheeky eyebrow wiggle. Hangman didn’t even listen to what the other person was saying on the phone. – “Listen bud, stop calling my girlfriend.” – he spoke through. He heard an immediate response. – “Uhm her boyfriend.” – Hangman answered, showing you a goofy look at how obvious it was who he was talking to.

The man kept blabbing in his ear as Hangman had little interest in keeping him on the phone. – “Stop calling us, bye.” – he spoke in such a manufactured voice, he could work in sales and be dealing with a terrible customer but still upholding his work voice. Hangman hung up, giving you the phone back. – “Thank you!” – you let out relieved, bending a bit through your knees out of gratitude. – “So what do I get in return?” – Hangman asked.

“This beer?” – you suggested, placing your hand on the counter by it. Hangman tsked his tongue. – “Already paid for it sunshine.” – he said with a chuckle. – “Fine.” – you breathed out. – “I’ll clean your locker.” – you took out another suggestion as Hangman thought. – “How about wash my clothes?” – he responded. – “Deal.” – you agreed it was just that. Hangman shook hands with you to seal the deal.

He picked up his beer, throwing his arm over your shoulder. – “Who was the dude anyways?” – he asked, leading you to the others. – “My ex.” – you sighed out. Hangman looked half in shock at you. – “I didn’t know you dated someone.” – he called out as you had to shush his loud voice. – “It was like 6 months ago.” – you informed him.

“And he’s still calling you?” – Hangman blurted out as you hummed with a nod as response. – “I can’t shake him off.” – you sighed out nearing the booth with your friends. – “Well good thing your boyfriend saved the day.” – Hangman winked with a ridiculous smile. – “Not my boyfriend.” – you reminded him before sitting down.

Back in the locker room, you were washing Hangman’s attire. Washing them by hand as he called them delicate and needed to be handled with care. – “Uhm what are you doing?” – Phoenix asked seeing you in the locker room as she had walked by. – “Are those Hangman’s clothing?” – she pointed out when you had pulled it up to see if it was clean enough, revealing his nametag. – “Phoenix!” – you called out startled, splashing some water as your arms lowered immediately. – “Why are you washing his clothes?” – she wanted to know. – “I owe it to him.” – you responded, scrubbing his pilot gear.

“You dared to bet with Hangman. Bold.” – she answered impressed. – “It’s not that.” – you told her with a soft sigh. – “He did something for me, so I have to return the favour.” – you explained. – “Right.” – Phoenix widened her eyes briefly in delight. – “If your dad could see you know.” – she chuckled a bit. – “He’d flip that you fell so low.” You grunted soft. – “Good thing my dad.” – you emphasized. – “Can’t see me.” – you replied bitsy. – “Ohh cold touch.” – Phoenix teased touching her own shoulder. You scooped up some water, splashing it at her to wipe that smile off her face.

Phoenix screamed, dodging away when the water came her way. Half laughing, you teasing her with another scoop as she already darted away. When you were finished up with Hangman’s uniforms, you hung them neatly to dry. You came out of the lockers, making your way out of the hangar when you got pulled aside by Rooster. He pushed you firm up against the wall. – “Are you dating Hangman?” – called out at the brink of losing his mind. – “What?” – you responded confused.

“Are you dating him?” – Rooster wanted to know with a stern look. – “What, no, no…” – you replied waving your hands across. Rooster exhaled deep moving his fingers through his hair. – “Who told you this?” – you asked curious. – “Hangman has been bragging to everyone he’s dating you.” – Rooster let you know. Your eyes widened with shock.

You pushed Rooster a bit back, to make some room for you to leave. You needed to find Hangman and you needed to find him now. Jogging out of the hangar into the open. You saw a group of people near the F16’s going over to them. The closer you got, the clearer you saw Hangman amongst them.

“Hangman!” – you shouted drawing his attention. – “Looks like my girlfriend needs me.” – he said to Fanboy and Coyote all smug. Coyote rolled with his eyes as Fanboy shook his head. Hangman turned round to you, welcoming you with a warm smile. – “Yes my love.” – he said as you grabbed him firmly by the arm, dragging him away from the others. – “So eager.” – Hangman whispered to his friends with a chuckle. You came to a stop, letting harshly go of him.

“What are you doing?” – you called out giving him a little shove. – “Au.” – Jake mouthed pretending to be hurt from your shove. – “Jake!” – you called out wanting an answer out of him. – “What?” – he replied loud, making himself taller. – “Why are you telling everyone we are dating?” – you freaked out. Jake scoffed loud, turning his head away. – “Are we not?” – he answered cocky, wanting to slip his arm over your shoulder. It made you puff annoyed, crossing your arms.

“Oh come on Y/n, don’t be such a baby about it.” – Jake said taking you by the elbow, wanting you to uncross your arms. – “It’s a joke, sunshine.” – he kept tugging at your arm, trying to be smooth and cool at the same time. – “Sunshine!” – you suddenly heard loud, making you straighten your back. Hangman’s back straightened as well. Cyclone appeared coming to you. – “Iceman wants to speak to you.” – he said firmly, making your shoulders slouch. Jake was snickering quietly at you with a little point. – “He asked for both of you!” – Cyclone made clear, making Jake’s smile drop.

You tugged on his elbow, pulling him with you. Following Cyclone inside and up the stairs to Iceman’s desk. Cyclone knocked on the door, before popping his head inside. – “They are present.” – he said to Iceman. Cyclone stepped aside, expression flat as he allowed you to walk in. – “Tell me, am I hanging?” – Jake whispered to Cyclone wanting to know his outcome. Cyclone ignored him, giving him an extra shove into the room. – “Dad!” – you said with mixed expectations, opening your arms to a hug.

Iceman got up from behind his desk, coming to hug you. – “How is my little girl?” – he asked. – “Flying and thriving.” – you told him, making him form a smile on his lips. His gaze then shifted to Jake, who swallowed nervously. Iceman got all serious. He went to sit again, gesturing for you to sit as well. Jake and you sat down, unsure what to expect. – “So you are the one dating my daughter.” – Iceman spoke. – “Dad no…” – you blurted out, waving your hands across.

Iceman observed Hangman closely as it made him move uncomfortable in the chair. – “How’s his flying?” – he asked. – “Superb… sir.” – Jake replied loudly, humbling himself immediately. Iceman glanced your way. You could only smile sheepishly at him. – “I’m a bit saddened you didn’t tell me Y/n.” – Iceman began. – “But he looks decent enough. As long as he doesn’t hurt you… or else…” – Iceman gave Hangman his death stare.

Jake swallowed again. – “Dad we’re not…” – you began wanting to explain as Jake grabbed your hand out of the blue. – “No, no sunshine, it’s okay. He knows now.” – Jake spoke upholding the image of dating. You stared confused at him, why he would even want to go on with his stupid joke. – “Jake, this is my dad.” – you said between clenched teeth to him. Making it clear that he didn’t need to mess around. – “I’m so happy for you Y/n.” – Iceman said cheery.

“The man’s happy Y/n, let him be.” – Jake said to guilt trip you. You sighed soft letting yourself fall back in the chair. Jake got up. – “Well it was nice of you to call us in, sir.” – Jake said, nudging you to get up as well. Your dad chuckled happily at his manners as you could only roll your eyes. Jake extended his hand out to Iceman. Iceman took it to shake. – “I’m not one for favours, but if you ever need one for my daughter.” – he whispered to Jake with a wink.

Jake breathed out a laugh of surprise, glancing your way. Just to rub his it more in your face. – “Now we must really go.” – Hangman spoke tapping your elbow, to get you to follow. – “Give her a kiss.” – Iceman replied. Jake’s expression dropped. – “S’cuse me?” – he blurted out. – “Give her a kiss.” – he repeated gesturing at you.

Jake looked sheepishly at you, chuckling nervously. – “Sir truly…” – Jake began wanting to talk his way out of it. – “I want to see just how much you care for my daughter.” – Iceman persisted. Hangman took your hand, pulling you closer to give a kiss on the cheek. – “Give her a real kiss!” – Iceman shouted out of good sports. Jake sighed loud with a soft drop of his gaze. You raised your eyebrow at him, curious to see what he would do. He took you by the elbow, pulling you even closer.

“Just a quick one.” – he whispered to you. – “One second.” – you responded. Hangman held his finger up to his lips, looking all smug. He lowered his finger, giving you a quick nod before he’d kiss you. Your lips touched for a split second, pulling away quick. Iceman shook his head with disappointment. – “We have to go dad!” – you called out, opening the door. Dragging Jake with you out of his office. Downstairs, you let go of Jake.

“Your joke just escalated Hangman. Now my dad knows!” – you called out panicking. – “Hey you asked me to be your boyfriend.” – Jake replied loud. – “For like a few seconds.” – you shouted back. – “You asked for this Y/n.” -  Jake answered loud taking off. – “Where are you going?” – you called out to him. Jake turned around, pulling his shoulders up. It made you groan loud.  

Phoenix and you were stretching before exercise. – “Boyfriend coming over.” – she pointed out, turning her torso, holding her arm by her elbow. You looked up seeing Hangman come over with the other boys. It made you look at her with a certain glance. Phoenix stopped, walking off when Hangman came near. She joined the others behind him. – “You know for a sunshine, you frown a lot.” – he pointed out, touching your forehead.

You slapped his hand away. He grabbed you by the shoulders, moving his head closer to you. – “Smile, your dad is going to watch.” – he whispered making you widen your eyes. Jake moved aside from you, throwing his arm over you as he led you to the others. Maverick, Cyclone and Iceman neared. You all followed Maverick to the beach for a match of rugby. A good team exercise Maverick would call it. Cyclone and Iceman sat down, watching the pathetic play of rugby.

Hangman and you were on opposite teams. Fanboy had the ball, throwing it at Coyote. Hangman jumped in front of him, catching the football before his eyes. He then ran with it to your side, throwing his hard on the ground. He called it out in victory, pointing towards Iceman. Iceman clapped for Hangman’s score. He then looked all smug at you. Phoenix nudged you as you rolled your eyes at him. Trying not to find it sweet. Rooster caught the ball wanting to throw it at you. You caught it, wanting to run when you got picked up from the ground. 

Hangman had picked you up, making you squeal loud out of surprise. Your feet hit the ground again, as he kept his arms around you. – “Try getting out of this now, sunshine.” – he breathed out. You wriggled in his grip for freedom. When you weren’t getting any, you tried running. Hangman laughed loud, squeezing his arms tighter around you. – “Where are you going sunshine?” – he laughed out. You tried so hard not to laugh as well, not to enjoy it too, but you failed.

You stopped trying to run, laughing loud. You tossed the football over to Bob. You showed him your empty hands, showing him his attempt to stop you failed. Hangman picked you up in response, making you squeal again. He then pressed a kiss on your cheek so quick, he barely caught himself doing it. You turned round in his embrace, staring a bit at him. Jake stared back at you.

Swallowing, he let go of you, scratching his neck sheepishly. You looked blissful away. The two of you hesitantly got back into the game, questioning whether you were actually starting to like each other or that it was the drive of fake dating for a while now.

After practise, you were all exhausted. Having been playing till the sun had set. Worn out, you all decided to grab a few drinks at Penny’s bar. You went up to her bar as Jake followed. Almost instinctively. You held four fingers up to Penny, ordering beer. Jake leaned with his elbows on the counter, throwing you a smug smile. Your phone vibrated in your pocket. Confused, you pulled it out holding it to the front. Jake’s eye fell on the caller, taking the phone from your hand before you could react.

He picked up, turning around to lean against the counter with his back. – “What do you want?” – he said bothered. Your ex didn’t even have to finish his sentence when Jake spoke again. – “Listen asshole, if you call her one more time. I’ll make sure you’ll never see daylight again. You won’t see me coming. I’ll fly above your house, aiming for your pathetic bedroom and you’ll be burned to crisps in a matter of seconds.” – Jake threatened making you stare in shock at him.

“She doesn’t want you cause I’m her boyfriend. She’s mine and let me tell you ass, I don’t like sharing.” – Jake said over the phone. – “This was your last call or you’re dead!” – he angrily hung up the phone. – “Thank… thank you…” – you said astonished by how hot that was. Jake tugged your phone in his pocket.

Penny arrived with the drinks as he took them, motioning with his head for you to follow. You slid into a booth with him as the others were waiting. Hangman threw an arm over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him. It made you feel like squealing. The lines of pretend and real blurring away. Jake caught you staring at him, melting as he saw you smile like the sun back at him. He moved his head closer to you, wanting to kiss you in that moment, but caught himself just in time.

He shifted his head to the side, kissing your cheek instead. It didn’t feel satisfying, but he wouldn’t dare himself to kiss you out of the blue with everyone around. Your friends were so used to the two of you dating, they hardly had any eye for it. Not clear it was all an act, started from a joke. After an hour or two, checked Jake his watch. – “I’m taking Y/n home.” – he said removing his arm from you. He got out of the booth, taking you with him.

You said goodbye to the others. Jake grabbed your hand, walking out of Penny’s bar with you. Outside he was still holding your hand as it made you snicker soft. – “No one’s watching Hangman.” – you told him. Hangman looked at you with eyes full of affection. – “I know.” – he responded, pausing you. – “Are we still faking it?” – he asked catching you by surprise. Unsure, you pulled your shoulders up. That seemed to answer Hangman enough as he cupped your cheeks, kissing your lips.

The kiss was long, anticipating the moment till he could finally kiss you. His tender kiss moved to longing and desperation as his hands grabbed you tightly. You kissed him back, fully surrendering under his spell. The lines of fake dating having been shattered long ago.

--------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-2

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff, lil bit of Angst with Bob's sad boi hours

Word Count: 539

Author's Note: Here's the next part and I hope you guys like it! For fun there's a small Taylor Swift song reference in this. Leave in the comments what's your guess!

“Since when did you move into a greenhouse?” Bradley questioned while trying to avoid the multiple bouquets and plants surrounding Bob’s apartment. Every open counter space was filled with almost every flower under the sun. 

“Or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Bob, what’s going on?” Natasha replied while glancing over at him. Bob didn’t know how to explain that he had been going to the florist shop every day for almost two weeks. Every time he walked in he told himself he would ask for the owner’s number and then a date but instead he walked out with a new leafy friend. He just couldn’t build up the courage to tell her he was there for her and not for a bouquet for his coworker’s sister’s baby shower (that was a lie.) It all boiled down to the simple fact that Bob tried to work up the guts to ask her but once he set his sights on her it was like his brain turned to mush. He was a goddamn WSO for the Navy and one woman made all that precision and expertise go down the drain.

“Well, there’s this woman I-”

“Woman?! Damn Bob I didn’t even know you were talking to other women besides Nat he–Ow!” Bradley immediately interrupted before Bob could finish his sentence. 

“Let Bob finish idiot,” the interruption led to Natasha hitting Bradley on the head. “Sorry, Bob continue what you were saying.”

“The woman is the owner of the florist shop I went to for Maverick. And for the past two weeks, I've tried to get her number but every time I just clam up.” Bob looked down at his shoes feeling defeated about his woes. He felt like at this point should he even try again. Natasha sensing this went over to Bob and gave him a pat on his shoulder.

“How about we help you, Bob? Do you need some practice? Or maybe tips?”

“How about an entirely new personal–Ow!”Natasha glared at Bradley which shut him up rather quickly after smacking his head again.

“No thanks, guys. I think I might give up on her.”

“Give up? Bob why would you give up!? You’re a WSO in the Navy for God's sake! Bradley and I both know that you can do anything you put your mind to.” Natasha said while resting her hand on Bob’s shoulder.

“Nat, I’ve literally tried to ask her for two weeks. I think I'll look crazy if I continue to go buy flowers I don't need.” 

“How about we come with you next time? Isn’t the shop also an apothecary? I’ve been wanting to check it for a while.”

“You really would do that for me?” Bob looked at both of them with surprise. He didn’t think that his coworkers would help him like this. Well, Bradley might make fun of him for a little bit longer but Bob knew that he cared. 

“Of course lover boy! Let’s get you that phone number and maybe more.” Bradley replied with a humorous smile on his face.

“Thank guys.” Bob smiles with a twinkle in his eyes like looked like stars. Maybe this would work. Maybe he could finally have something good happen in his life. 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123 @tgmavericklover @jessicab1991

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[crazyk-imagine]

Robert “Bob” Floyd Master List

Blurbs

The Cousin // Ao3: The Cousin

Summary: To keep it short and simple, it’s the night before the life-threatening mission and the pilot crew meet another person with Seresin blood running through their veins... Bob is intrigued.

Imagines

Veils, Dresses, and Best Friend’s Wedding // Ao3: Veils, Dresses, and Best Friend's Wedding

Summary: My Big Fat Greek Wedding AU. You’ve known your best friend, Natasha ever since you two were kids, meaning you’ve also known her little brother Bob for just as long. You never thought you’d get closer to him than you did. He wants more from your guys’ little... agreement but, you can’t. You want to be able to give him more, but you can’t because you know his family and know the kind of girl, they want him to marry. It’s easier to break your own heart rather than his. 

[hederasgarden]

can you write about what happened between Bob and becky? but becky is the reader lol.

I like the way you think, bestie!

My muse doesn’t feel called to turn this into a full-fledged fic, but I’ll give you a glimpse into how it went down. Although I named the character Janet in the story Flirting with Dummies, I did write this like a reader insert for you. This can also be read as a standalone fic.

Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

Eager to Please

Summary: You learn pretty quickly that Bob is eager to please, but he still manages to surprise you with a request. Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x F!Reader Word Count: 400 Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. PWP, oral sex (f receiving), and Bob being eager to please.

You invite Bob over after your shift at the bar, both aware of exactly where this is going. It's not a date but when you open the door he’s standing there with a little bundle of what looks like wildflowers in his hands and a shy smile. You’re fucking charmed because of course he wouldn’t show up empty-handed. He’s a gentleman.

You can’t wait to ruin him.

Yanking him inside by his collar you waste no time in kissing him breathless. You make sure to put the flowers in a little cup of water because you know Bob made the effort to bring them to you. After that, the two of you make out on the couch like a bunch of teenagers. Bob slowly grows bolder, encouraged by your soft moans and whispered praise. For as sweet as he looks you figure out pretty quick he sure knows what he’s doing. His big hands gently cup and squeeze your breasts while he finds that spot behind your ear that makes you moan embarrassingly loud. When he drags a nail across your nipple you pull your mouth away from his face and tell him you think things should move to the bedroom.

Once you’re both naked and ready to get down, Bob surprises you with a request. He stutters over his words a little but he meets your gaze head on when he asks you to sit on his face. Now it’s your turn to look at him speechless. Once you recover from your absolute shock you grin and push him back on the bed to climb up his body. You’re not shy by any means but you also don’t want to crush the poor guy so you awkwardly hover above him.

Whatever Bob’s hesitation was before, it’s clearly gone now as he cups your ass and pulls you flush with his face. He brings you to orgasm twice, staying down there long enough you're a little concerned if he's getting enough oxygen. When you climb off him his skin is flushed and sweaty though he looks the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“I think it’s my turn now,” you tell with a grin, crawling down his body.

✥

My inbox is open for you thoughts, screams and drabble requests.

[coyotesamachado]

I’m feeling like a winner

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Female!Reader

By the time the night is ending, you’re happily wrapped up in his arms, leaning up against him, smiling at the group of people surrounding them. Bob is whispering sweet nothings in your ear, at least, that’s what you happily let people think. Instead, he’s whispering filthy little things, causing a blush to bloom across your chest and up your neck.

This is a three shot based on the song Blow by Ed Sheeran, Chris Stapleton, and Bruno Mars. Each shot is based on a different verse of the song and will have a different lead. This came about thanks to @notroosterbradshaw reminding me how freaking good this song is and I have listened to it far too often in the last 24 hours. 

WC: 722

Warnings: Allusion to sex, drinking. No use of Y/N, no physical description other than a dress. Under cut because Reader discretion is still advised.

Hangman. Rooster.

He watches you carefully from his perch by the bar, the two of you are very much polar opposites when it comes to being out and about in a crowd. Where Bob is happy to sit on the side of the action, observing what’s going on, you much prefer being the center of attention, running around and talking to anyone and everyone. To anyone who doesn’t know the two of you, it would be strange that it’s your engagement party and he’s not by your side, but to the people who do, they recognize that it’s a part of the reason the two of you work so well.  

You talk to everyone with a bright smile on your face, the shiny ring on your finger a happy distraction for all your guests. Bob watches as you hug his parents, a thank you for throwing this party for them. You hug your own parents, grateful that they had been able to fly out and be there. You even hug Hangman, a surprised expression on his face when you fling yourself at him in your champagne haze, but you thank him for coming with a bright smile before turning around to find someone else to hug. This is one of the reason’s Bob loves you so much, why he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else. Even when he’s supposed to be the person receiving the attention, you’re more than happy to take all of it, give him a chance to breathe.

By the time the night is ending, you’re happily wrapped up in his arms, leaning up against him, smiling at the group of people surrounding them. Bob is whispering sweet nothings in your ear, at least, that’s what you happily let people think. Instead, he’s whispering filthy little things, causing a blush to bloom across your chest and up your neck. You’re able to pass it off as warmth from the champagne you’ve been drinking all evening when Phoenix asks if you’re feeling okay. Honestly, you’ve never felt better. He presses a kiss to your naked shoulder, the tulle of your strapless dress scratching at his hands where he has the fabric balled in them. You turn your head towards him, smiling sweetly.

“Think we can leave now?” you ask, desperate for something more than just his words.

He lets go of you, finishing off his drink and pushes you forward gently so he can stand behind you. The movement interrupts the conversation happening around you.

“Well, everyone, I think it’s about time I got my wonderful fiancé home, feel free to stay and keep drinking,” he says, wrapping an arm around you as everyone shares a look.

The two of you make one last round, saying goodbye to everyone before finally making it out of the venue.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” you muse as the two of you take the short walk back to your hotel. “And Jesus, Bobby, did you have to start talking like that in front of everyone?” Your tone is teasing, but he can hear the frustration in your voice as well.

“I don’t know, baby. Your mom asked me when we were gonna start giving her grand-babies, and seeing you in that dress, it just got me thinking babies aren’t all that far away...” He trails off, looking down at his phone to make sure they’re still going the right way.

“What are you saying Bobby?”

“I’m saying I want to make a baby with you.”

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and he only notices when he feels your hand pull from his. He turns back around to see you taking off your heels, and looks up at you confused.

"Well, what are you waiting for Mr? We might as well start practicing,” you say and he’s holding out his hand to take your heels, a dumbfounded expression because he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you. Instead, you take his hand in your own, and start moving on quicker feet than before.

Your laughter rings out in the streets, and the person at the front desk of your hotel smiles knowingly when the two of you run past her in a daze. The elevator doesn’t even begin to close before the two of you are on one another.

---

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