#robert bob floyd x you

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[deakyjoe]

I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)

Category: sick fic, fluff

Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.

Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.

Okay, get well soon!

It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.

It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.

To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.

Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.

It wasn't.

In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.

You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.

That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.

"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.

Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."

"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.

"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.

So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."

Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."

"Oh." That surprised you.

He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."

God, were you that easy to read?

"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."

You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"

You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.

"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.

You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."

He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."

"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.

"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"

You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.

"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.

"No." You sighed. "It's okay."

"Yeah, I'm making you something."

You huffed. "You really don't have to-"

"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”

Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”

You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.

“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.

“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”

"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.

"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."

Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."

He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.

He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”

“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.

“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”

The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.

So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”

His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”

You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”

Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”

You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.

“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.

He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”

You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”

Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”

You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.

He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”

You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”

“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.

“You gonna feed me?” You teased.

Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”

He was right.

“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.

You were definitely a little bit in love with him.

You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."

Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."

"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.

“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Hot.” You insisted.

"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.

He huffed out a laugh.

You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.

“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”

You scoffed. “You’re something else.”

He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.

“How you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”

Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”

You hummed and stared at him fondly.

He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.

“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.

He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”

Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”

You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”

Maybe you were a lot in love with him.

So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”

Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.

He knew you so well.

You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”

He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”

You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”

“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.

“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”

“Me too.”

Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.

He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.

Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.

A/N: And we’re back!

[bradshawssugarbaby]

High On Lovin' You - Bob Floyd x Reader

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic inspired by a dream I had the other day, not beta read and may have some errors? I tried y'all. also inspired by h.o.l.y. by florida georgia line

pairing: bob floyd x wife! reader

warnings/content: bob as a dad, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, smut, fingering.

word count: 2.1k

The Californian breeze was warm and refreshing as it blew in off the coast of Coronado, brushing against your skin. You followed Bob up the brick-laden steps of Rooster’s seaside home, your daughter, Sunday, balancing on Bob’s hip as he jogged up the steps. You couldn’t help but admire the way he managed to make something as mundane as running up a couple of steps holding a baby effortlessly attractive.

His sandy coloured hair had been brushed back slightly, a change from his normal, military-approved style, and his wire framed glasses had been replaced with a pair of prescription aviator sunglasses. His baby blue polo shirt hugged his figure, accentuating his toned chest, his biceps flexing against the sleeve of the shirt as he held Sunday. He’d dressed her this morning, in a baby blue gingham dress that matched the hue of his shirt perfectly, with her curly blonde hair pulled back off her forehead with a coordinating headband, adorned with a bow.

“You ready to go see Uncle Roo, Sunny?” Bob cooed at your daughter, stroking her cheek gently with his index finger as he spoke to her.

Sunday giggled and cooed at her father as the three of you walked around to the side gate of the house. Bob reached around over the gate door to unlatch it, and as you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice that his normally slender build was appearing more and more muscular and toned. You knew that Bob had been spending a lot more time with Rooster lately, and by extension, Hangman, who’d convinced all the guys to start hitting the gym with him before trainings under the guise of “team-building” but you were convinced it was because he didn’t want to work out alone anymore. The gym sessions combined with carrying an almost toddler around were enough to have an impact on Bob’s upper body strength.

Bob looked over to you for a moment, flashing you a smile before walking up to Rooster with a firm handshake and a hug. Bob set Sunday down on the grass to play, watching as she started playing. He’d insisted on giving you a break for the day, feeling guilty for spending the last week and a half working overtime and putting in longer hours as they trained for an upcoming mission. You knew there was no use in arguing with him about it, and the extra time spent with Sunday meant the world to him. Besides that, something about seeing Bob take on the role of doting dad was driving you crazy with arousal, and you were going to make sure you did something about it later tonight.

“Sunday, come here, honey!” Bob called as he chased after your now very active and mobile 11 month old daughter. 

Later that night, you watched as your husband whispered goodnight to your baby daughter over the monitor on your phone, your heart fluttering at the sight of him leaning his tall, slender frame down to kiss his little girl on the forehead, murmuring sweet sayings to her that were barely audible over the noise of the sound machine that was playing.

 “Ok, I think Sunday’s finally gone down for the night. They aren’t kidding when they say that sleep regressions are the worst, are they?” Bob chuckled as he bounded down the stairs, shaking his head as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tightly towards his body. 

“Have I told you yet that you’re the best husband in the world?” 

“You might have mentioned it earlier when she spat up on my shirt right before Rooster’s party for his promotion, but I’d be ok with hearing it again.” 

A cocksure grin appeared on Bob’s face as he nuzzled into your neck, placing soft, gentle kisses against the curvature of your body. A soft, surprised moan fell from your lips as his mouth made contact with your skin, but that was all the encouragement Bob needed to start kissing a trail from the top of your shoulder up to your ear. His movements were playful and light-hearted, but he knew that was what drove you wild. His hands caressed at your waist, sliding down to your hips as he pulled you in closer to him with a gentle yank, the curves of your ass now pressed firmly against his body. You could feel the fabric of his dress pants beginning to tighten against you as he began hiking up the skirt of your dress, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Bobby!” You giggled, shaking your head as you felt your heart race as if this was your first time being intimate with him. 

That was the thing you loved about Bob, he made every time feel as great as the first - the passion, love and excitement of when you’d spent your first night together, recaptured as if it was happening all over again. Bob had always been a passionate lover - your first night together he’d sheepishly confessed to you that he’d only ever had one girlfriend before, and he dated her throughout his high school years until he graduated and left for the Naval academy at 18. He’d been worried that his lack of variety in the field had made him inadequate, and he assured you that, if there was anything he was doing that you wanted him to do differently, he’d learn it for you. It’d been nothing short of perfect - you teased him that he must have been reading Cosmopolitan or something to know all the right places to touch you and kiss you, to which he just shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose with a grin.

Since that day, it was clear to you that Bob was a people pleaser, and there was no one on earth who he wanted to please more than you.

“You looked so hot in that dress today, babe. You’re stunning, you know that?” He purred into your ear as he continued to run his hands along your body, his breath hot on your neck as he spoke in that low, seductive tone he knew drove you crazy.

“Robert Floyd, you’re pushing it,” you teased, shaking your head.

“Now, now, darlin’, that’s Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd. If you’re gonna use my full name, better be using that rank too, got it, pretty girl?”

You gave Bob a mock salute, a shit-eating grin on your face as you looked at him. Bob pulled you in closer, holding your hips firmly against him, your dress hiked up to your midsection as he gave your sides a gentle squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh ever-so-slightly as he held you. Grinding your hips against his, you grinned wickedly as Bob let out a groan. He spun you around quickly to face him, his blonde eyebrows raised quizzically at you. His bright, deep blue eyes were locked on yours and you felt like you might melt right there on the spot.

“Now, a pretty girl like you, she deserves to be treated right by her husband, doesn’t she?” Bob hummed, his fingers toying with your inner thigh. 

“Mhmm, is that so?”

“That’s what I reckon,” Bob smirked, his accent shifting, becoming thicker as he slipped into his natural Kentucky drawl, his fingers brushing against your wet slit.

“Bobby!” You hissed, unable to stop the soft gasp that came out of your mouth with it. 

“I think, since you do such a good job taking care of Sunday and I, I should return the favor, don’t you?” 

Before you could open your mouth to speak, Bob pushed two of his long fingers past your folds, pumping them into your core at a tantalizing slow pace that left you practically aching for more. He smirked as his fingers worked at your core, feeling your body clench at the movement of his hand. 

“Fuck, Bobby,” you mewled, feeling yourself tensing up at his touch, “Feels s’good.”

Bob pulled his fingers out of you, your body aching at the loss of contact. He stood upright, quickly undoing his belt at a break-neck pace. He smirked as he noticed you biting your bottom lip, watching him as he shimmied quickly out of his khaki coloured dress pants and boxer shorts. Reaching into the pocket of the now discarded pants on the floor, he pulled out a shiny foil square of packaging. As he started to open it, you shook your head, whispering in his ear, your voice in a breathy whine as you spoke.

“We don’t need to use that if you don’t want to, baby. I wanna feel you.”

“That so, baby? Thought you wanted at least two years between kids?” He laughed softly, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you.

“I know what I said. That was before I saw you handling Sunday so well at Rooster’s this afternoon. Now I’m thinking 20 months is good enough,” you replied with a shrug, your lips curling into a smirk as you tried to convince your normally level-headed and rational thinking husband to forgo any form of contraception. 

Bob furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before tossing the condom wrapper behind him with a grin.

“What the hell, I’m on board,” He shrugged as he lifted you up, causing you to squeal in surprise as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Bob carried you effortlessly over to the couch before dropping you gently down on to the leather sectional. He grinned as he hovered down over you, lining himself up with your entrance. He dragged the tip of his cock against you in a teasing manner, causing you to shudder and whine as you felt him make contact with your clit. He gave you a wicked grin as he watched you squirm before gently pushing himself forward. He paused for a moment for you to adjust to his size - something you should be used to by now, but yet, each time your body needed that extra moment or two to stretch around him. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, taking my cock so well,” Bob cooed as he pushed himself further into you, maintaining the slow pace he’d begun with. 

“Bobby,” you whined as he filled you, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly.

Bob began thrusting into you at a leisurely, slow pace, his voice low and husky as he grunted in your ear, reminding you of how good you feel, how you were all his, and how your body felt like it was practically made for him. You squirmed and shuddered with each thrust becoming harder and sharper, perfectly calculated to hit exactly where you wanted each time, something that was to be expected of a man who’s job entailed precision and skill when it comes to angles. 

“You feel so fucking fantastic, honey. Can’t wait to put another baby in ya. That’s what you want, isn’t it baby? Want me to give you another baby?”

Bob’s hips crashed into yours repeatedly as he thrusted, his sharp, quick movements beginning to grow sloppier as he edged closer to his orgasm. You tossed your head back in ecstasy as he bucked his hips into you, the combination of his words and his movements just about pushing you to your orgasm. 

“C’mon honey, tell me what you want from me,” Bob husked.

“Need you to put a baby in me, please, Bobby,” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer as his latest thrust pushed you to your boiling point.

As if your words flipped a switch inside of him, Bob’s hips bucked forward once more as he grunted, spilling out inside of you as your body clenched around him tightly.

Breathless and panting as you both rode out your orgasms, Bob couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at you, shaking his head.

“So what was it about my parenting that got you worked up?” He smirked, unable to shake the grin off his face as he leaned down to kiss your collarbone.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, I know something got you worked up today, and I doubt it was the backyard barbecue at Rooster’s.”

“Your biceps have gotten huge from carrying Sunday around everywhere, and with the polo shirt and the aviators today, and you were all proud of yourself for coordinating your outfit with Sunday’s, it was a combination of things, but,” you breathed, shaking your head as you grinned, “imagine how you’ll look balancing two toddlers on your hip.”

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N

Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.

Master List

Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage. 

For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier. 

Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not. 

Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.

“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call. 

“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”

“Exhausted.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Pretty late.”

“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?” 

“We’re all good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.

“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.” 

“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.” 

“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.” 

“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”

“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit. 

“Bobby.”

“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest. 

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”

“I will. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end. 

“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”

“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”

“Bye, Bobby.”

Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked. 

It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up. 

~~~~~

Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier. 

“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”

“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look. 

“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back. 

“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up. 

“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now,  come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”

~~~~~

“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?” 

Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas. 

“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”

You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out. 

“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. “Is that the cafeteria?”

“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile. 

“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet. 

Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on. 

Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest. 

“It’s Mr. Bob!”

“He came from the video!”

“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth. 

“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”

“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”

“What are you . . .”

You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.

“Will you marry me, Honey?”

“Say ‘yes’!”

“You have to say ‘yes’!”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.

He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him. 

As if that was even possible. 

School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby. 

“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you. 

“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”

“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”

“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

[bobgasm]

good girl | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 3978 warnings: mild idiots to lovers, smut, nsfw [18+ only], unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk,

summary: in which you have a chat with bob that doesn’t go the way you intended it to, but he more than makes up for it

author’s note: happy birthday to my bby lewis! 🥳♥️ best to read the snappening first 🤭 if you want to be notified when i post, follow and turn on post notifications for @bobgasm-library 😁

the snappening | masterlist | awards season

You hate that your alarm is waking you at 5 am. You hate that you got super drunk last night. Mostly, you hate that you crossed a line with Bob. You didn’t know what the day held in store for you, but a chat about what happened was inevitable.

You groaned as you slid into the shower and tried to wash the disgusting feeling from your body.

The plan was simple. You’d arrive at work early and get settled for the day, then disappear to grab coffee once everyone had arrived. It meant that you could delay the chat with Bob temporarily, giving you time to stew over the situation instead of tackling it head on.

Yeah, this grown-up shit was so easy.

You got settled at your desk and grinned at the email that had been flagged. It was a mission briefing for Bob and Phoenix, so you stopped into your boss’ office to let him know. Haywire was a hard man to work for, but as his assistant, you made it work. 

Haywire appreciated the information – he hadn’t yet checked his computer, but he knew about the mission. As his assistant, you had a high security clearance, but more importantly, his trust. He relied on you to ask the questions a lot of people wouldn’t typically ask a superior, either out of nerves or fear. It was expected of you to sit in on mission briefings for that exact reason – Haywire liked his pilots to be well informed of any and all risks. 

This mission briefing wouldn’t be any different. As you left, he made the call to Phoenix and Bob, so you headed down the hall to prepare some coffee and try to gather your bearings. He wasn’t even here yet, but the memories of last night had your toes curling and heat warming your cheeks. 

Your heart roared in your ears as you looked up and saw Bob walking in through the doors. He gave you a polite nod and smile, but you weren’t even expecting that. You gave him a small smile back, taking in his appearance.

He wore his flight suit, and Phoenix fell into step beside him. You knew they likely had an early morning training scheduled, which had now been delayed by this new mission briefing. You stopped yourself before you got caught staring, but he smirked at you like he knew. Like he knew where your mind had drifted to, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

You held his gaze, refusing to back down, and watched them disappear into Haywire’s office. You collected a few mugs from the cupboard in anticipation of Haywire calling out for two more, already one step ahead of him. He caught sight of the four mugs lined up, met your eye, and quickly provided his help to carry them all back to the office before starting the briefing. 

You sat beside Haywire’s desk, legs crossed as you sipped your coffee and tried to avoid looking at Bob. It was inevitable though. By the time your eyes settled on his face, he was already looking at you. 

Your head was swimming as you replayed the videos from last night in your head. The sounds he made.

Good girl.

Fuck. You squeezed your legs together at the thought. The thought that he actually wanted you the way you wanted him, and that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. That you hadn’t just risked your livelihood for the sake of an orgasm.

You tried to focus on the mission briefing as Haywire talked, handing out folders to both Bob and Phoenix. They both wore stoic expressions, listening intently to what was needed of them. Haywire outlined the importance of their mission – recon only. They were going in with no backup which was risky, but the images they had of the site were dated. 

“Our next move will be to send a SEAL team in once we’ve got a better visual of the site,” Haywire proceeded. “Those men will be your backup.”

“But no air support,” you countered. “What if the site has grown and they’ve got an updated defense system? It’s a suicide mission.”

“It’s the mission,” Haywire replied.

“Would you take the same risk if you’d been given the mission instead?” You asked him. “Are you really willing to let two people be shot out of the sky and killed, or taken hostage? The SEAL team is only good if there’s hostages to rescue, but how long until they get the green light to move in? Assuming they’re still alive, of course, or would that be another recon mission determining that?”

Phoenix and Bob both shifted uncomfortably. You could only assume they’d been thinking along the same lines. 

The choice was simple, and Haywire made the correct one. He called his superior, Admiral Shaw, who’d sent down the mission briefing. Why he wasn’t present for it was a mystery, but Phoenix and Bob seemed a little less tense after hearing your words being repeated to someone who would actually go to bat for them. 

When Haywire ended the call by promptly slamming the phone home, you jumped a little. Startled by the dramatics. 

“They’ll get back to us with updates,” Haywire said. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenants.”

You stuck around in the office for a minute once Bob and Phoenix left, letting Haywire debrief you on what the plan was. Your questioning had brought up some very good points that needed addressing, and his superiors would figure it out. He thanked you and dismissed you, hoping it didn’t take them long to figure out the semantics of the briefing. 

“Why are you so jumpy today?” Phoenix asked you. You shot her a cautiative look as you waited for Bob to get far enough away. “Does it have something to do with Bob?”

You huffed. “You’re too observant for your own good,” you stated, dragging her down the hallway and pushing her inside an empty office. “I’m only telling you this because you have a secret of your own that you don’t want to get out.”

You paused as you watched her try to swallow the lump in her throat. Yeah, you knew she had a thing going on with Coyote. How you’d found that out was need to know. 

“I accidentally sent him a video of me masturbating last night. I was hoping to try and avoid him, but that’s not going so well,” you explained, pressing your hands into your eyes to try and quell the headache you were starting to develop. 

“Did he watch it?”

“Yes, and sent his own back,” you said, blowing out a deep breath. “I’m freaking out. I can’t avoid this conversation forever. I just…I don’t think it’s a conversation to be had before your mission, you know?”

You didn’t hold your breath. Even your own words sounded like lies to your ears. 

+++

By the time lunch came around, you were anxious. Heading to the dining hall on base to meet with Phoenix like usual, hoping she wouldn’t ask for any further information about the Bob situation. You planned on keeping it to the more important shit, like the mission they were going on. You even anticipated a question or two thrown your way, so prepared a couple to ask her instead. 

Thankfully, lunch was a standard affair. Phoenix sat with another couple of pilots who you knew and greeted warmly, making yourself comfortable at the table and engaging in friendly conversation.

Bob lingered off to the side of the cafeteria. You caught his eye and he nodded his head slightly, gesturing for you to follow him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stood up and followed him without a glance back at Phoenix or the other pilots. Trailing behind Bob with as much dignity as you could muster before steeling yourselves away in the privacy of an empty office.

“Hi,” he said sweetly. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes, making him laugh. “Yeah, I know, but I never actually said it this morning and, truthfully, I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you all day.”

“Hi,” you replied, giving him a small smile. You couldn’t help it. Whenever he smiled you felt the need to reciprocate, even if it wasn’t aimed at you, but it was amazing when it was. “I’ve been doing the same, honestly. I don’t even know where to start.”

He nodded in understanding, resting back against the desk. Not quite sitting, but not quite standing either. Hands resting in his lap, with one ankle crossed over the other.

“I need you to hear what I’m not saying,” he told you. You nodded slowly in understanding. “I can’t do anything while we work together. I know how much you like your job here, just like I like mine. While there’s nothing to say that interpersonal relationships aren’t allowed, they’re not exactly welcomed unless you’re married.”

You hummed, once again nodding slowly. “So it’s business as normal, right?” You asked, following his train of thought.

“As normal as it gets around here,” he said.

You nodded. “Do you regret that it happened?”

“No, not at all. Do you?” You shook your head. “I’m not trying to make this awkward.”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing a good job of that myself,” you replied, earning a small chuckle. “I should…go. Lots to do today.”

“It doesn’t need to be like this.”

“It does, Bob,” you stated. “At least for now, anyway, because this isn’t exactly welcomed.”

He sighed as you slipped out of the office. You hadn’t meant to throw his words back at him, you knew his heart was in the right place, but he was only delaying the conversation further. Who knows what this week would have in store for you, but you just hoped that their mission went off without a hitch.

After lunch you went straight back to work, responding to some emails before you were dragged into a meeting with Haywire. You kept minutes while the men talked about other classified missions. You did your best to keep up with the chatter, but the conversation was hectic. Everyone spoke overtop of one another and you could barely register who said what. 

And then you started thinking about the situation with Bob.

Had you blown it, with your actions of the previous night and your passive aggressiveness towards him earlier? You knew he was only thinking of your job, and you did appreciate that. But you’d gotten yourself into this situation, too. You could decide how to play this out, you didn’t need to rely on him.

Yet you hadn’t said that to him when you had the chance. You hid behind your cowardice and let him decide how it was going to work. Let him call the shots, and for what? Because you were too scared to lose your job, or too scared to lose him?

The meeting dragged on, but you slipped out when a few of the men did the same, essentially ending the meeting. Lou kept you company as you typed up the minutes before disappearing into Haywire’s office. He’d apparently gotten a call about the new mission briefing that enlisted extra air support and a few extra contingency plans. In not so many words, all the Daggers were now being sent on this mission, which filled you with a lot more confidence. And, no doubt, did the same for Phoenix and Bob. 

You tried to finish up the email you’d been working on for Lou, but you had to ask him a question about it before you sent it. Sighing, you reached for your bottle of water and took a few sips, allowing yourself a moment to relax. 

It wasn’t long before all of the Daggers showed up and headed into Haywire’ office. He hadn’t asked you to sit in, so you stayed put until he called for you. 

You exhaled heavily and slumped back in your seat, wishing the day would just end already. When Haywire eventually called for you, you stood in the doorway since there were already six extra bodies in the room.

“The reason you’re all here is because of that woman there,” Haywire said. “She pointed out flaws in Bob and Phoenix’s mission, which has caused me more work today trying to get approval to send air support. This is where the rest of you come in.”

Haywire spent the next twenty minutes outlining the new mission parameters, as well as answering any questions the aviators had. 

“So we get to work with SEAL’s?” Hangman asked. 

You rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, noting how Bob stifled a laugh. 

“Not directly. The SEAL team is four days from the location. You’ll be moving out in two days at 1600 hours in order for them to be in position when you do your flyby.”

He continued to bring the rest of the team up to speed. Detailing exactly how this mission would be flown and everything they’d be needing to do. This was still very much Phoenix and Bob’s mission, but now they had support. They weren’t as nervous to fly this mission knowing they had immediate backup. 

You excused yourself before the meeting was over to take a phone call at your desk, explaining that you’d get Haywire to call them back when he was free. 

When Lou came back out, you picked his brain to finalise the email before sending it, then made a beeline to the bathroom. You didn’t need to go, not really, but you locked yourself in a stall and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. Hoping that by the time you made it back to your desk, the Daggers wouldn’t be in Haywire’s office anymore and you didn’t have to see Bob. 

You felt so frustrated by the situation you’d made for yourself. Frustrated that you’d let this happen. You took a few deep breaths before emerging, washing your hands just for a reason to stay in there a little bit longer. 

By the time you made it back to your desk, a few people had started to leave. They’d be back in the early hours of the morning, ready to make a start on whatever was needed before the carrier took off in the next few days.  

When the clock hit 5, you took Phoenix up on her offer of dinner and waited for her outside the barracks. Barely five minutes had passed before Bob was hollering your name down the hallway. 

You slowly turned around and saw him beckon you towards Coyote’s room. With a sigh, you walked down the hallway with as much confidence as you could muster.

“You told Phoenix?” He asked you. 

“Like she’s a saint here,” you replied, staring between her and Coyote.

“You told her?” Coyote asked in horror.

You were all in similar stages of distress and you felt backed into a corner. So you laughed. You laughed because how the hell had you all found yourself in similar situations? Bob soon joined in, and before you knew it, Phoenix and Coyote had too.

It was ridiculous. Of course it was. And it was awkward as hell, so you laughed your way out of it. Swiping at your eyes as the laughter died down and you were soon pinned beneath Bob’s gaze.

“Dinner tonight?” He asked. “Please say ‘yes.’”

“Yeah,” you agreed stupidly. “I’ve got a couple things to finish up but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’ll keep you company.” He grabbed his coffee before you both left, leaving Coyote and Phoenix to deal with their own mess. “Do you actually have much to do or was that just an excuse to get out of there?”

“I have shit to do but it can wait until tomorrow,” you told him, packing up your things you’d left outside Phoenix’s room. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a hole-in-the-wall Italian place not too far away,” he replied, digging his hand into his pocket. His keys jingled, and you gave a nod. “I’ll drive.”

You followed him outside, watching your feet rather than staring at his back like you wanted to. When you reached his car, you slid into the passenger seat. Swiftly buckling your seat belt as he did the same and turned the engine over.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he apologised. “About how I chose to handle things.”

“By passing the blame onto the fraternisation policy?” You asked, just to clarify. You turned your head enough to look at him, glad he at least looked ashamed about it.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “The truth is that I was trying to buy more time to figure out what I really wanted to say.”

“Have you figured that out now?”

“Yes,” he replied, letting silence wash over you.

“Okay? Are you going to share with the class or make me guess?”

He chuckled softly. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I want to hear you say it, Bob.”

Your heart thundered in your ears as he spoke, “I want you. I have for…god, too long now. I don’t even care if that initial video wasn’t intended for me, because you moaned my name as you came and it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

The car was parked in the back of a parking lot, away from the strip of restaurants to your left. You’d been too busy watching him, staring at him. Admiring the way his arms flexed as he rolled the steering wheel between his hands. The way his mouth moved as he talked…telling you everything you wanted to hear.

“It’s not the first time,” you confessed, voice low. So low he turned to look at you and you could see the lust clouding his vision. The way his eyelids drooped slightly as he took in your heady expression. “I imagine you every time.”

“Get in the back,” he told you, and you were quick to scramble into the back seat, over the centre console. He followed behind you, lifting you up with little effort and settling you down in his lap.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, and you placed your own on his chest. Feeling his heart racing beneath your touch. Because of your touch. Because of the implications of what was to come.

“Kiss me, Bob,” you requested, running your hands through his short hair. He leant forward and closed the gap, lips pressed firmly against yours.

You melted into his touch, kissing him back without hesitation. His fingers lifted your shirt, skimming up along your sides. You moaned at his light touch, goosebumps raising on your flesh. He bit down on your lip in response, feeling you shift against him.

He groaned as you tugged his hair. “You gonna be a good girl and ride me?”

You rolled your hips against him one more time, feeling his growing erection pressed against your core. 

“Fuck you for calling me ‘good girl,’” you said.

He chuckled, brushing some hair back from your face. “But you are,” he said softly, breathily. “And I want you to ride me.”

There was something about the way he looked at you so carnally, like an animal staring down its prey, that had you removing your shirt without a second thought. You wanted him so badly, in any way you could get him. You didn’t care you were currently both trying to undress in the back of his car, or that anyone could walk by at any time. 

Both of you in varying states of undress, Bob stroking his cock as you straddled his lap once again. Sliding his hand between your thighs, a breathy moan falling past your lips.

“So fucking wet for me, baby,” he said, pressing two thick fingers inside your heat. You groaned at the intrusion, hands gripping his shoulders as he worked you over. Making sure his fingers were nice and slick before wrapping them around his cock again and positioning his tip at your entrance.

He gripped your hips as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. He bit his lip, eyes glued to where the two of you were connected. You whimpered at the angle, at the feeling of him finally inside you after years of fantasising.

“So deep,” you panted. “Fuck, Bob.”

He groaned as you rolled your hips, cunt clenching around him. “Knew you’d be so tight…so fucking wet. Feels like heaven, baby.”

You gasped as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, over the top of your bra. Hands wound into his hair as you rocked your hips, lifting and sinking rhythmically.

His teeth grazed against the taut nub he was suckling on before paying the same attention to your other breast. You gasped and threw your head back, scratching your nails against his scalp.

He moaned, the vibrations coursing through your body. Your hips rocked a little harder against him, gasping at the tightness in your lower abdomen. He watched you lower your hand between your bodies, two fingers circling your clit and bringing you that much closer to your high.

“I didn’t say you could cum, baby girl,” he warned you.

“Please, Bob!” You whined. He gripped your ass, holding you up and refusing to let you keep going. “Fuck, please.”

“Please what?” He asked you. You pressed your forehead to his, a whimper falling past your lips.

“Please…wanna cum on your cock,” you begged. “Thought you wanted to feel me come undone around your cock, Bobby?”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I do. But if you cum like this I’m not gonna be able to pull out.”

“So don’t,” you told him, taking his face between your hands. “Wanna feel you finish inside me, Bob.”

He kissed you roughly, teeth clashing as his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned as his fingertips dug into your hips, his own snapping up as he fucked you.

You tugged at his hair, or pawed at his chest. So close to your orgasm, wanting to touch yourself. Wanting to tease your clit until you came all over his cock. Until he had you chanting his name and memorising the way he felt inside you. The way he made you feel. 

The way you wanted him to continue making you feel, even when things went back to normal. Especially then. 

“Fuck yes, squeeze my cock just like that,” he goaded, head thrown back as your cunt tightened and your body started quivering. “Feels so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight.”

“I wanna cum, Bob,” you pleaded. “Wanna cum all over your cock. Wanna feel you filling me up.”

He grunted, thrusts becoming harsher. His hand smacking your ass roughly as you matched his pace. You slipped your hand between your bodies once again, toying with your clit. Winding that coil so tight within your abdomen that you didn’t realise you were cumming until you collapsed into him. His hips thrusting upwards, grunting once, twice, three times before he stilled. Holding you close as he came undone inside you.

You wanted to stay wrapped in him forever, but your body felt like jelly and he was still talking to you.

“Such a good girl riding me, baby,” he said, lightly stroking your back. “Knew you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock. Such a pretty little thing, fucking hell.”

You hummed, lips pressed against his neck. Feeling his pulse beating rapidly against your mouth, chests flush together and bodies still connected.

“You feel so good, Bob, so right,” you told him, drunk off the post-coital euphoria. “Don’t want this to end. Don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised you. You lifted your head to look at him and he smoothed your hair back from your face. “I wanna take you home. Can I take you home?”

“Yeah, take me home.”

[intricatechaosofyou]

Blind Date Gone…Wrong?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Summary: Maybe getting stood up isn’t the worst thing ever

Warnings: drinking, alcohol, language

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You glanced down at your watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. It was 7:45, almost a full hour after you were supposed to meet your date. Convinced you needed a boyfriend, or at the very least a hookup, your best friend insisted on setting you up with one of her friends at the office. Having nothing better to do, you agreed.

Your blind date, Thomas, and you had talked, agreeing to meet up at an Italian restaurant on the beach. Putting on one of your favorite dresses that did wonders for your ass and donning a little extra makeup than usual, you had arrived at the restaurant five minutes past seven, fully expecting Thomas to be there. When you discovered he wasn’t, you shrugged it off and ordered yourself a drink while you waited.

You waited for ten minutes before texting him. You never got a response but you decided to wait a little bit longer.

Ten minutes turned into thirty.

And thirty minutes had turned into forty.

The waiter had been asking you if you were ready to order for the past twenty minutes, and yet you still insisted you needed more time, praying that Thomas would walk through the door.

You were starting to get blatant looks of pity from the patrons seated around you.

He wasn’t coming.

You were flagging down the waiter, ready to pay so you could escape the restaurant with some of your pride still intact when a man slid into the seat across from you.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Darlin’. Maverick kept me late and then traffic was just awful,” he announced loudly before leaning across the table and planting a kiss on your cheek. His voice dropped in volume so only you could hear him when he whispered, “I’m Bob. Just go with it.”

You nodded slightly and tried your best to smile at the man, Bob apparently, once he pulled away from you. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I was more worried than anything.”

The waiter smiled at the two of you. Whether he was glad your date had finally showed up or glad you were finally going to order, you couldn’t tell.

Once the two of you ordered and the waiter was out of earshot, you turned back to the man seated across from you. “Thank you so much.”

He blushed and nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “It’s no problem, really.”

“I appreciate it though,” you admitted. “Got stood up and I was getting all those looks of pity.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

You smiled. “So, your name’s Bob?”

He nodded. “Lt. Robert Floyd, but everyone calls me Bob.”

“Lt. Robert Floyd?” You repeated. “You Navy?”

“Yes, ma’am. How’d you know?”

“We are in Fightertown, USA,” you mused with a grin.

“I guess you’re right,” Bob chuckled.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n),” you introduced yourself, sticking your hand out for him to shake.

Bob smiled and grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you replied, blush creeping up your face at his actions. “So is this your typical Friday night? Going around saving girls who got stood up?”

“N- no, this is the first time I’ve done this. And whoever stood you up is an idiot,” Bob replied.

You smiled at the man, head tilting slightly. The way he had said it was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the comment.

“Thanks, Bob.”

“Anytime, Darlin’.”

———————

“No way!” You giggled. “I don’t believe it!

Bob shrugged, bashful smile on his face. “Yup. Punched him right in the face.”

“What happened after that?” You questioned, trying to contain your laughter so you could hear more of the story.

“Suspended for two weeks.”

“And the other kid?”

“Nothing.”

You gasped, utterly appalled. “But he was the one being a bully! You were just standing up for your friend!”

“School didn’t see it that way.”

“Well, I do. Looks like you’ve always been a hero, Bob.”

A blush spread across his cheeks. “Anyone would have done it.”

“I don’t think so. You don’t give yourself enough credit, honey.”

The blush on his cheeks deepened as the pet name rolled off your tongue. “It really wasn’t a big deal.”

“If you say so,” you said with a laugh, resting your head on your hand as you gazed at the man.

The two of you had been talking for hours, meals long gone and a crème brûlée now being shared between the two of you. The conversation flowed naturally despite never having met before. You had talked about almost everything, from why you were in Miramar, childhood memories, to your favorite ice cream flavors.

“So, what’s it like being in the Navy?” You asked, pointing your spoon at him.

“It’s fun. I’m a Weapons System Officer which means I’m in charge of all the weapons in the back of the plane. Phoenix is my pilot.”

“Phoenix?” You question, tilting your head.

“That’s her call sign. Everyone has one,” Bob explained. “There’s Phoenix, Rooster, Hangman, Payback.”

“So what’s yours?”

“Uhh…Bob,” he admitted bashfully, eyes not meeting yours.

You grinned and let out a small giggle. “I like it. I think it suits you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, short and sweet.”

“Calling me short, Darlin’?” Bob joked.

“Definitely,” you replied with a wink.

———————

When the cheque came, Bob swiped it up before you could even touch it.

“To repay you for letting me crash your date,” he explained.

“‘Crash my date?’” You repeated. “Bob, you saved it.”

“Then to repay you for your company.”

You pouted and leaned back in your chair. “Fine. But you let me pay next time.”

“‘Next time?’”

Your cheeks heated up as you realized your mistake. “Not that there has to be a next time. I just had a lot of fun and thought maybe we could do this again. But that was a very bold assumption,” you rambled.

“Actually, I was gonna ask if I could see you again?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I had a really good time tonight,” Bob admitted, awkwardly shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Smiling, you reached across the table to grab his hand. “I’d like that.”

“Next Friday?” Bob suggested.

“It’s a date.”

———————

The two of you walked outside the restaurant hand in hand, giggling like a couple of high schoolers.

“Well, my car’s this way,” you mumbled, pointing behind you.

“Mine’s the other way,” Bob replied, frown making its way onto his face.

“Then I guess this is where we part,” you sighed dramatically. “But I’ll see you next Friday?”

Bob nodded. “Six o’clock.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Bob.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

With a sudden burst of confidence you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his, relishing in the small gasp that left him. His hands came to rest on your hips as your mouths slotted together almost perfectly.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was long enough to leave Bob a mess when you pulled back. His glasses were knocked askew on the bridge of his nose, his cheeks were flushed, and a bit of your lipstick was now staining the side of his mouth.

You giggled at his appearance and patted his bicep. “You good there, Robby?”

“Better than that,” he whispered.

“I should get going.”

He nodded and pecked your lips once more before letting you go.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but spare one more glance at the man. He was walking in the opposite direction, fist pumping as he went.

You smiled to yourself. Maybe this blind date wasn’t a total disaster after all.

TAGLIST

@pono-pura-vida

[sebsxphia]

Imagine

Bob putting soft cock in his bunny so they can feel it grow and stretch them out

￫ a/n: oh goodness fucking hell yes please dear anon jesus christ i’m foaming at the fucking MOUTH rn 😵‍💫🤤

￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.

you’re pawing at his chest as you straddle him on the sofa, with your face nuzzled in between where his neck meets his shoulders and mouthing at his warm, bare chest.

“need you, bobby, please.” you softly whine.

he chuckles quietly before cooing at you. “i’ve got you, ‘m right here, bunny.”

one of his large hands is still cradling your head and letting his fingertips scratch your scalp. his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulls them down, freeing his soft cock. “it’s a little soft right now, bunny, but i’d never deny my sweetheart.”

the keenness of you rutting your hips along this thighs and hearing you needy whines, mixed with his hand giving it a couple of strokes, allows it to harden ever so slightly. it’s just enough so he can sit inside of you, but still soft enough that it doesn’t fill you whole.

you let out a huff of content breath at suddenly feeling so connected to bobby, before grinding your hips more. you’re still kissing and mouthing at his bare chest, with little groans leaving your lips.

“feels s’ nice, bobby. i like feeling you grow ‘n stretch me out.” you murmur against him.

bob lets out a silent, “oh.” before settling his large hands to your hips and moving them against his own. you whimper at each movement, being able to feel his tip nudge deeper inside of you and his shaft grow. you felt bob’s warm lips press against the shell of your ear and kiss you tenderly, with his voice soothing in your ear.

“does that feel nice, bunny? feelin’ my cock stretch out my sweet cunt? so good for me, letting me fill my sweet bunny whole.”

[floydsmuse]

I will ease your mind.

Warnings: none! it’s just fluff and some slight angst?

Description: Bob soothes you to sleep by singing you, yours and his wedding song. (wc: 800+)

Tagging: @auroralightsthesky. Mary I couldn’t have written this without your constant encouragement & kind words :,) this one’s for you my friend <3

Song: “Bridge Over Troubled Water” by Simon & Garfunkel. I’d recommend giving it a listen before or during reading.

A/N: hi! so this is the first oneshot i’ve written in a minute. i love this song & have been listening to it on repeat lately picturing Bob singing it to me, which gave me the idea to write this haha :) i hope you all enjoy it <3

————————————————————————

Bob could tell something was off, from the very moment you two settled in for the night. Your lips barely grazed against his when bidding him his usual goodnight kiss, you avoided all eye contact, and were quick to flip over onto your side that faced away from your lover’s longing gaze.

Bob didn’t want to push or pry, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. He didn’t want to have to witness you falling asleep feeling on edge. He wanted to comfort you and ease you the best way he knew he could.

He was gentle, making subtle movements and turning just enough to notice you starting to stir a bit. Bob could tell just how tense you were. You were practically balled up like a kitten and were moved towards the edge of your side of the bed. Your knees were scrunched up towards your chest and your shoulders were squeezed together. Bob was afraid that if you wound yourself up any tighter, then you would somehow end up stuck that way, in this very position.

Bob slowly moved an inch, not wanting to startle you. He oh so carefully reached out and placed a large palm onto your back and began to move his hand in soothing circles starting from the middle of your back and slowly traveling upwards towards your shoulder blades. he curled his fingers, which allowed for his nails to run along your clothed skin & he gently kneaded his thumb to soften up your tight muscles, which elicited a light purr from of you.

Bob’s movements didn’t let up, as he leaned down to press a light kiss onto your head. You were still tense and wound up, only letting out the littlest of sighs and hums from the soothing touches of your husband. Bob knew what could possibly fix this.

He began to lightly hum the sounds of a song, that he knew would pique your interest. You didn’t move initially, just soaking in the light grazes of Bob’s magical palm.

You suddenly perked up when you heard Bob reciting the words out loud, singing in his calm and quiet voice, as he began simultaneously running his fingers through your hair,

When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them off.

Oh this man, you thought to yourself. Bridge Over Troubled Water was the first song you both danced to at your wedding and it was just destined to make you crumble into a million and one pieces.

You reached back to gather your husband’s hand into your much smaller one and ran your fingers along the back of his palm, making sure to gently rub at the wedding band on his finger to further relax yourself. Bob continued to sooth you, his voice sounding like an angel’s sent from the Heaven’s above,

I’m on your side. Oh when times get rough, and friends just can’t be found.

You closed your eyes, soaking in the song that meant so much to you and your relationship. Flashes of your wedding day and marrying the love of your life were running through your mind. Bob had told you during your vows that the very first moment he saw you that day at the Hard Deck, he knew there was something so special about you. He knew you were going to be his person, til the end of your days. He made a promise very much like the lyrics of this song, that he would be by your side during all the ups and down. That he would dry your tears, ease your troubles and mind, and would most importantly be a friend to you if no one else could be found.

Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,

Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me down…

And that was it. Those last lines of lyrics made all the stress and uneasiness that built up from the day be completely released from you. Tears fell from your tired eyes and rolled down your cheeks, as you let out a distinct sob into your pillow. It felt good to finally break away from anxiety’s clutches and allow yourself to feel freely.

Bob had paused for a moment, wanting to coax you to further let it all out and breathe for him. He knew how much you needed this and was glad he could be there beside you, to help you get past these intense built up feelings. Your husband continued to serenade you into the night, until your breathing finally settled and the only sounds heard were the bustling winds outside your window and the lightest of snores falling from your lips.

-

[sorchathered]

You’re still the one💙

Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- language, a little bit smutty, angst with lots of pining and longing.

Summary- Bob’s come back to his small town in Georgia for his best friends wedding, will their plan to bring him back together with his high school sweetheart work out? Or will it end in more heartache?

When Bob had gotten the wedding invite in the mail he’d been so thrilled, truly. His best friend Sam had done the impossible, made the long distance work through college and grad school and now finally he was marrying his high school sweetheart Millie. He was happy for them, really he was. The only thing that could’ve been better is if he was sharing this with you. This was supposed to be the two of you, conquering your goals and then winding up together, but it hadn’t worked out the way either of you planned and it had been longer than Bob knew since he’d seen your face.

Millie had asked if your old band from high school would reunite for the wedding music and you’d been over the moon, a few of you had continued to play together and occasionally doing a gig or two just for old times sake, knowing that she wanted you involved in her special day made your heart swell.

The closer the date got the more dread seemed to settle in your bones, you’d stalked Bob’s socials and sneakily asked if he was bringing a date, but the look Sam had given you when he said Bob was coming alone let you know he knew exactly what you were hoping. Maybe he didn’t have someone waiting for him in California, maybe he had even asked about you, and for the first time in almost 6 years you let yourself hope.

In his lonely little apartment in Coronado Robert Floyd was doing about as well as you. He’d thought of nothing but you since that invitation showed up in his mail, hell that was a lie; he spent most nights thinking of you if he was truly honest with himself. He was sure Sam and Millie were already plotting some elaborate scheme to push the two of you together over the wedding celebration and he had to laugh at their dedication. He still wasn’t sure how things had gotten so screwed up. Long distance had been hard, deployments, work schedules and midterms seemed to keep the two of you from ever being able to make concrete plans and eventually it felt like you two had just grown apart too much for repair.

He should’ve fought harder, any attempts to move on over the years had been a complete disaster because how was he supposed to find someone new when he was still hung up on you? Natasha always loved to pick on him about it, that one day he’d have to move on or would have to have his “rom com moment” as she called it and sweep you back off your feet but Bob figured you’d long forgotten about him by now. If he only knew that you’d been just as hung up as he was, but neither of you had been brave enough to reach out.

The wedding festivities were in full swing this week, Millie had sent you the final list of songs she wanted for the wedding and you had added a few crowd favorites as well. You missed the days of jamming with your friends, being a music teacher was so rewarding and it had been everything you’d dreamed it would be, but you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to getting to let loose with old friends.

You were in full nostalgia mode by the time the weekend of the wedding, thinking of all the things you’d had planned for yourself way back when. You’d had your whole wedding planned out, you knew it had been silly but you’d dreamed of a party with all your friends and at the center of it the boy you’d loved since you were a little girl. Deep in the recesses of your parents attic was a hot pink sparkly notebook from senior year with a list of songs you wanted for your own wedding day, gel pen rainbow font with little cursive scribbles of Mrs. Robert Floyd and hearts doodled all over the page. But that had been another lifetime ago, and just the thought of how much time had changed you both brought tears to your eyes.

Bob was so glad to be back home, it had been ages, his mother was already fussing about how he needed to eat more and catching him up on all the town gossip. He wanted to ask about you, but she beat him to the punch; gushing about the musical the middle school was putting on and how hard you were working to make it a success. It looked like all your dreams had come true, you were doing what you loved, but his mama could see the far off look in his eyes as she spoke, she knew all too well what he was feeling.

“You should call her you know, I have her number if you want it.” She’d said softly as she touched his hand but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Oh Mama, too much time has passed, I’m sure she’s got someone who could treat her way better than me.” She patted his hand lovingly and shook her head, “Sweet boy, there were never two people better suited for one another than the two of you. I don’t think she ever moved on, I know you didn’t. You know…she lives in the old Macon house on Water Road, not too far if you wanted to take a walk.”

“Mama! “ he said harshly but his features didn’t match his tone at all, he was trying his best not to laugh at her persistence.

She put her hands up and laughed, “I’m just saying, the night air might do you some good. After all life is too short sweetheart.” He thought of his father, taken from them too soon and how his mother had never found anyone else. He’s been her everything, Bob had always thought that would be the same with the two of you.

She heads up for the evening and he’s left alone with his thoughts again. Her house isn’t that far, maybe 5 minutes, and it’s only 8 pm on a Friday she would probably still be awake…

Before he can really mull it over he’s slipping on his shoes and heading out the door, feet carrying him down the sidewalks and past the quaint antebellum style houses illuminated in the orange glow of the street lights until he finds himself at your door. He’s warring with himself about knocking, what the hell was he doing? He’d barely spoken to you in almost 6 years, this was stupid he should’ve never done this. As he turns away to walk down the porch steps he hears the lock click and turning of the door handle, light illuminating the porch as you poke your head out into the night.

“Robby? Is that you?” You say quietly, a small smile on your lips as you look him over with eager eyes. Time had been good to you, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth and that certainly hadn’t changed. You weren’t a young girl anymore, your figure was all curves, he couldn’t help but tighten his fists thinking about running his hands over your voluptuous body. Snap out of it Floyd, get your shit together, he thought as you looked at him with confusion evident on your face.

“Well? You gonna come in? Your mama told me you were coming by, I’ve just been sitting by the window listening out for you.” You said as you opened the door a little wider for him to step through. “Of course she did” he muttered, shaking his head with a dark chuckle, leave it to Susan Floyd to take things into her own hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I can’t really read your faces anymore Floyd, do you want to come in or are we gonna let all the bugs into my house tonight?” Hands on your hips, sassy remark, yep you were still every bit the spitfire he remembered, that take no shit attitude clearly hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah y/n I was coming by, sorry I just…I had an idea in my head of what I was gonna say and now here I am and I’ve got nothing.” He said sheepishly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. You reached for the hand at his side and pulled him through the doorway, closing the door and scooting him in the direction of the couch. Bossy. As always.

“How about I get you a glass of sweet tea and we get all the awkward small talk out of the way, or we could just skip it if you want? I’ve been keeping up with your life through your mom but if you’ve got questions I’m happy to answer them.” You said as you shuffled down the hall to the little kitchen, Bob plopping himself down on your ridiculously comfy velvet couch. “You keep up with me?” He said in shock, he never would’ve thought you’d give him a second thought after he let everything crash and burn, maybe his mama had been right to push him this way.

“Of course I do, it’s not every day you get to be in the top 1% in your field, especially with a job like yours. I’ve always cheered you on, just didn’t think you’d ever show up here, kinda figured you’d forgotten all about me.” You said as you placed down a Mason jar of sweet tea and a tin of shortbread cookies, you’d said it so nonchalantly but he could see in your eyes the hurt was still there.

“I’ve kept up with you too, I- uh I’ve looked at your instagram, and Millie of course updates me when I ask, even if she is still pissed at me about how things ended. You uh- you look like you got everything you wanted in your career too. Mama said the school play is gonna be a big success. I know you’ve gotta be thrilled.”

You nodded, just bringing up your students brought the light back into your eyes. “They are the best, I thought it’d be weird teaching at our old school but truly it is such a joy. These kids love music, it’s so much fun watching them show off their creativity. And as for Millie…Well I’m pretty sure she and Sam have some elaborate plan to “accidentally” trap us in a closet together tomorrow until we work everything out. They’ve been oddly sneaky lately.” You laugh out, and Bob can’t help but join in, they definitely weren’t subtle but you could both agree they were damn good friends.

You both laughed and talked for hours, going through the whole tin of cookies as you caught up on each other’s lives, somewhere in the early morning hours you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and Bob felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked down at you. He’d missed this, just being with you.

You had been his favorite person for his entire childhood, how did he let things get so out of hand? It couldn’t be comfortable being propped up like that, so Bob carefully pulled you into his arms and carried you to your room. It was nearly 4 am, he would just crash on your couch like a gentleman should and make an excuse to bail when he woke up. Laying you on the bed he made to step away but you curled your fist into his shirt, murmuring “stay with me” as you pulled him closer, and how could he possibly tell you no? He toed off his shoes and slid in next to you, falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing and warm body pressed to his.

He couldn’t place where he was when he woke up, just that it smelled like coffee and pancakes and somehow he’d slept in. Upon opening his eyes it all came back to him, how you’d asked him to stay and he’d fallen asleep in your arms, he felt hot all over just thinking about it, anxiety filling his chest as he worried about how to navigate the sure to be awkward morning after conversation. Again he wondered how they’d gotten so far from where they’d begun; but one thing hadn’t changed, holding you had simply brought it all back. The feelings he had never wavered, and he was fairly sure he was even more smitten with you now after catching up than he had been before.

You were dancing around in the kitchen as you cooked, spatula acting as a microphone while Fleetwood Mac played from your phone. Clad in a tattered t-shirt and pajama shorts from the night before with your hair messily piled on your head. There was that feeling again, the heat blooming in his chest and the butterflies he’d never felt for anyone but you. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. You couldn’t be more beautiful to him than you were in this moment, he wished he could burn it into his brain forever.

You spun around to the beat but jumped almost a foot in the air when you noticed him, clutching your chest as giggles erupted from you both. “Oh! Oh my god Robby you scared the hell out of me! Did’ya sleep ok? Want breakfast?” You said gesturing behind you to the steaming pile of pancakes and bacon, he wanted breakfast for sure but he knew one thing he wanted more than that.

He crowded you up against the stove, leaning behind you to cut the burner off as he looked down at you with a small smile. “Breakfast sounds good, sweet girl, but we need to talk first.”

“Uh huh” you said and he could tell he had the same dizzying effect on you, that was good, he was hoping this wasn’t one sided.

“I had more fun with you last night than I’ve had in years, and I can’t think of why we ever stopped doing this in the first place. Well a reason that actually counts anyways. I know it’s sudden, hell you probably have a line out the door hoping for a date but-“

“Yes!” You blurted out, nodding your head as you abandoned the spatula and gripped the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours.

You’d meant it to be sweet, just a peck to let him know you wanted the same things he did, but it had been so long, and no one had ever made you feel like he did. It got heated fast, muscular arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in so tight that nothing to get between you, hands in his hair as his kisses became more urgent, opening his mouth to you as you moaned softly into his, and the noise seemed to flip a switch as he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you back down the hall to your bedroom.

It was as sweet and smooth as molasses, he unwrapped you like a present as you tugged at his clothes, you wanted him as bare as you were. He eagerly obliged, tossing his shirt and jeans somewhere across your room as he climbed back into bed and pressed you into the mattress.

“Y/n I-“

“I know baby, I feel it too. Make love to me Robby.”

And so he did, again and again until the two of you felt boneless, breakfast long forgotten and morning seeping into early afternoon.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms around one, and he knew he’d have to wake you up soon to get ready for the wedding and go home to get his suit. He just wanted to stay wrapped up in this a little longer, as much as he needed this to be real again he also knew there was so much red tape. You lived on the opposite coast from him, your career was thriving and you’d never moved away from home. He couldn’t ask you to pack away your life and move every 3-4 years with him. Distance had been what broke you apart last time, he didn’t know if he could bear losing you a second time.

When you finally stirred around 2 you popped up in a panic, you were alone in bed and it was clearly later in the day than you had expected it to be. A sick feeling washed over you, had you interpreted everything wrong? Where was he? Did he regret it and bail?

The sound of a door opening broke you from your thoughts, heavy footfalls down the hallway let you know he hadn’t actually left. He caught your watery eyes looking at him from the doorway and rushed forward to cradle you in his arms, swiping at the tears before they could fall.

“What’s going on it that head of yours? You ok?” He said as he rubbed soothing hands against your back.

“It’s stupid, I woke up alone and I thought..” you stopped and then looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought you’d left” you said with a whisper, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Oh. Aw Shit. I mean I did leave, but for just a minute to grab us some lunch and my suit for tonight, I’m sorry baby I should’ve left a note.” He looked a little embarrassed as well, he was very clearly out of practice when it came to having a partner.

“Ugh, we’re a mess aren’t we?” You chuckled out as you buried your head in his neck, he just nodded as he continued to hold you, he still didn’t know what this was but god he didn’t want to lose it.

“We probably need to figure all of this out y/n, I don’t want to pop the bubble but I can’t shut my brain off. I want this, all of it with you. I’m scared I’m gonna ruin it again.” He was grateful that you couldn’t see his face, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from falling apart if you could.

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” You pulled back to cup his cheeks so he was looking in your eyes. “We were young and stupid back then, but we can do this now. I know we can. If I have to pack up and head to California I will, I’m not saying it won’t be hard but it’s worth it.”

He fucked you slow and steady under the hot spray of the shower after that, worshipping every bit of you and definitely making you both late.

The two of you scrambled to get to the venue, making it right on time, Sam giving Bob a knowing look at his disheveled appearance when he burst into the groom's suite. When you stopped into the bridal suite to check on Millie, she made sure to pick on you for the hickey you’d tried to hide under your ear. Clearly the plan had worked, maybe not how they’d thought but the result was what they were after. You’d have to send his Mama flowers on Monday for her meddling, she’d known what was best even when the two of you didn’t.

The ceremony was beautiful, full of tears and love and Bob couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to you, he already had plans swirling in his head of wedding rings and a future he’d thought was long lost. After you sang for the reception the band took over and Bob twirled you around the dance floor for much of the evening, he would hold these moments close until he could get you back in his arms again. It had been the perfect weekend.

A few months later you both were carrying moving boxes into his little townhouse, a new job all lined up at the local middle school and the entire summer to spend by the beach with your boyfriend. Everything had fallen into place, and if the little ring box in Bob’s back pocket had anything to do with it, he’d soon be calling you Mrs. Floyd.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @roosterforme @sebsxphia @floydsglasses @sarahsmi13s @bradshawssugarbaby @hangmansgbaby

[withahappyrefrain]

Cobalt Eyes and Sweet Smiles

In which a certain shy, quiet WSO catches your attention one night.

When your pilot friend offered to bring you to the Hard Deck as a guest, you knew their intentions instantly. The other pilots would notice you, notice how you weren't one of them, and try hitting you up.

"Maybe you'll actually meet someone to take home," they said.

You rolled your eyes and went along with it, tired of hearing about how "we gotta find you someone."

It was nice, being offered one's spot at the pool table, being asked if you wanted to play darts or needed a drink. The pilots were quite nice to look at.

But one in particular stood out to you.

He had tucked himself away in the corner of the bar, his cobalt eyes able to observe the room without being noticed.

You noticed him right away. How he tried to weave his long, lean body through the crowd so he didn't bump into anyone. How instead of a beer, he was carrying water and a cup of peanuts. How despite that his shoulders were hunched in an effort to make himself smaller, his biceps strained against the khaki material of his uniform.

You recognized the pins that adorned his uniform. He was a Lieutenant, and a pretty decorated one at that. Clearly that hadn't given him an overblown ego, otherwise he would have spoken to you by now.

He was attractive and you could tell that he didn't realize it. You knew the glasses he wore had been given to him by the navy and were what they referred to as "birth control glasses". But the large wired frames added to his charm.

You couldn't help but stare at him. A smile broke out onto your face when he looked up from brushing the crumbs off his pants, those stunningly blue eyes locking with yours.

His thin lips parted and you could see the realization that you were staring at him in his eyes. You winked, hoping it would wash away any potential doubts he had.

A red flush rose from his neck to his cheeks as he looked away, focusing on the crumbs that were still on top of his pants.

It was adorable.

"Who's that?" You asked the too cocky for his own good pilot who had been trying to strike up a conversation with you since you walked in. Hangover? Hangnail?

"Oh, that's just Bob," he scoffed, "Or as I call him, Baby on Board."

The ice cold glare you gave him stopped his laughs, "He uh, he doesn't say much."

You didn't mind quiet. In fact, you tend to like the quiet ones more as you got older. Perhaps it was because they seemed to balance you out.

Perhaps it was because you learned that it was always the quiet ones who knew how to make you feel the best.

"Who's the girl?" You asked, motioning to the dark haired woman who had sat down next to him. You watched her jerk her head towards you, her eyes briefly making contact with yours. They looked like friends, but you wanted to make sure.

"Oh, that's Phoenix. He's her back seater. So, do you want to watch me play darts?"

"No," was all you said before walking over to Bob.

—--------------------

"Go talk to her," Phoenix whispered, "She's been staring at you all night."

"Probably thinks I'm some cool, elusive guy. Best to not break the illusion," Bob responded before taking a sip of his water.

Phoenix wasn't sure what was so 'elusive' about eating peanuts at a bar, but her friend needed a confidence boost, not a confidence downer.

"You're a catch, and she's interested. She couldn't take her eyes off of you while Rooster sang," She pointed out.

Bob just shrugged as he shook his head.

You were absolutely beautiful. You lit up a room with one smile. From the way the corners of your eyes crinkle to how your nose scrunches up, to the way your smile encapsulates your whole face. Your voice was sweet, loud but not shrill.

You were a dream. And dreams didn't tend to go for quiet wallflowers like him. He learned this years ago and had accepted it. It made him less likely to get his heart broken.

Though he still felt his heart twinge when Hangman came up to you. Bob didn't blame the man, he was just….jealous, as ridiculous as that sounded. Jealous that he couldn't just waltz up and start a conversation.

He had tried in the past and ended up embarrassing himself more than getting someone's number. It was easier to hang in the corner, even if it made his chances of finding someone lower. It was better than getting his hopes dashed.

Not that Bob enjoyed being alone. Honestly, he had hoped that by now, he would have settled down and startef a family. When asked what he wanted to be as a kid, his response was "a dad".

Life just hadn't worked out that way and it was best not to dwell on it. As much as he wished, life wasn't some romantic comedy where his future wife would just waltz into a room and a love song would play while he and her locked eyes for the first time.

Though 'Pretty Woman' was playing when you walked into the Hard Deck.

Phoenix's elbow jabbing his chest broke Bob out of his thoughts.

"Looks like I don't have to convince you to go talk to her," was all she said before getting up to walk away.

Bob was quite confused, until he looked directly ahead.

Oh no.

You were walking straight towards him.

Bob knew he should get up and head straight to the bathroom. Or go to the bar. Something so you wouldn't talk to him and discover he was quiet not because he was some cool figure but because he never fucking knew what to say.

But his legs were frozen in place. All he could do was ensure that he had brushed all the crumbs from the peanuts off his pants.

"Hi! Is this seat taken?" You asked. Bob was now thankful he was still sitting, because your melodic voice paired with that sweet smile would have made him fall to his knees.

It took Bob a few moments to realize that he needed to actually give you a response. You didn't seem to mind, which was surprising. He was used to folks getting huffy, expecting a quick response from him.

Instead, you just gave him that beautiful smile.

"No! U-uh, no, i-its free, ma'am," he managed to get out.

"Glad to know," was all you said before you sat yourself on one of his thighs. You slung an arm around his shoulders, your fingers reaching up the nape of his neck towards his sandy brown locks.

Oh sweet Jesus.

You couldn't help but smirk as you watch his face process what was happening and then proceed to short circuit. He clearly wasn't used to this type of attention, which was an absolute shame.

"Uh…um t-there's a s-spot uh o-over there," He stuttered, avoiding your eyes.

"I know," you leaned in, your breath hot in his ear, "I like this seat better."

Did he and Phoenix actually eject out of their plane in time or did he die that day and was now in heaven?

Maybe she had mistaken him for someone else. Bob kept thinking of scenarios that would explain why you were doing this, besides you actually being interested in him, because someone like you was never interested in someone like him.

For a moment, you worried that you may have been too much. It looked like he was malfunctioning at your attention.

But then you felt a strong arm wrap itself around your waist, securing you in place.

"I-I'm uh…I'm Bob." God, he was so cute. His cheeks had what seemed to be a permanent flush to them.

You giggled as you told him your name, which caused the corners of his mouth to turn upwards.

"It's nice to meet you Bob," your fingers twirled around his sun kissed locks.

"It's n-nice to meet you t-too, ma'am," He mumbled. He honestly didn't know what to do. He was usually the one pretty girls went up to to ask about the relationship status of his other pilots.

"You're so nice, but you don't need to call me ma'am," you giggled.

Somehow, his face turned an even brighter shade of red as he mumbled an apology.

"It's okay, it's quite sweet. And hot, to be honest," you admitted.

Oh.

Bob looked up, his eyes making contact with yours for the first time since you sat on his lap.

Hot was not a word used to describe him. Cute, nice, nerdy, okay, were the adjectives he was used to hearing. Not hot.

"R-really?" His voice was still shaky, though it was the most confident he sounded since he began talking to you.

"Yeah," you giggled, straightening his collar, "So is Bob your call sign or your actual name? I can't tell with some of these."

"Well, my full name is Robert but my call sign is Bob," he found himself becoming more relaxed, despite having to remind himself not to look at your chest that was at eye level.

"Does Bob stand for something?" You asked, genuinely wanting to learn more about him.

He shrugged, "It's a long story." Surely you didn't want to hear him talk, did you?

"Have anything to do with your commendation medals?" You asked. He looked shocked at your knowledge. For a brief moment you were almost offended until you remembered that he honestly thought you were just a civilian.

"Both my dads are in the Navy. I know what a lot of the medals mean. It's also how I know this guy," you motioned to the man clad in a Hawaiian shirt who was leading the crowd through another Jerry Lewis sing-along.

"Does he know anything other than Jerry Lewis?" Bob asked out loud.

"If he's feeling extra deep, he'll play Clocks by Coldplay. Other than that…no, he doesn't."

The two of you exchanged a look before laughing. He had the sweetest laugh you had ever heard.

You rested your head on one of his broad shoulders. He was sitting up a little straighter. The tension in his body had faded. Not all the way, but a bit.

You liked it. You wanted to see more of it, more of him.

Though Bob didn't really suit him. Neither did Robert.

"Can I call you Robby?"

"You can call me whatever you want." Oh, so he could be smooth.

You grinned, "Whatever I want? That's quite open. My Pa always said to never take something open-ended until you made sure there weren't any strings attached."

He shrugged, a small smirk slowly appearing on his handsome face, "Well, I guess there is something I'd want in exchange."

You quirked an eyebrow, "And what would that be, Robby?"

Here goes nothing.

"You can call me whatever you want, as long as I can call you for dinner?" Oh God, that was so cheesy. What was he thinking? Bob didn't blame you if you got up and left right then and-

A pair of soft lips pressed against his cheek, the sweet smell of lavender flooding his nostrils.

Oh your lips were like heaven.

"I'd love that Robby. I'd also love to call you for breakfast," you cooed in his ear.

His large hand gripped the fabric of your dress. You wondered if he could feel your thighs clenching. Not that you didn't want him to know you found him extremely attractive. Quite the opposite in fact.

"Y-you smell really nice," was all he could get out. His head felt fuzzy. You were overwhelming in the best way possible.

"I was just gonna say the same about you," you smiled as the scent of sage filled your senses. You then noticed that his glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose. With zero hesitation, you gently pushed them back up.

Bob was thinking of every possible unattractive thing and scenario to kill the growing erection he had. Your fingers that were tracing circles over his biceps weren't helping.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

"W-would uh, would you want to get out of here?"

Realization set in at what he just said. Fuck. The last thing this angel wanted was to be taken back to base housing. The last thing he needed was Mickey walking in on him trying to flirt too. Also, when did she ever indicate she wanted to go back to a bedroom? She didn't. Yeah, she mentioned breakfast but maybe she was just a big fan of brunch. Brunch was pretty great. You could order waffles at two in the afternoon and no one bats an eye. Had he gone too far? He had gone too far.

Of course a beautiful girl would show interest in him only for him to fuck it up.

"We, we could go to another place! I-I, uh, I know this other bar, it's much quieter or there's a late night coffee shop we could go to, or-"

"My apartment is a fifteen minute drive, and I drove here." You told him.

"O-oh. O-okay." Bob was still worried. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel pressured to do anything. He was truly more than content to just talk to you all night, maybe kiss you on the cheek if he was lucky. If you allowed it.

"I…..I have a good collection of board games if you're interested," you said, hoping it would alleviate his clearly displayed nerves.

"I-I just wanna, uh, wanna talk to ya," he admitted, a Midwestern drawl lacing his voice.

"Where you from Robby?" You asked, pressing your forehead against his. You could hear him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing.

God, you wanted nothing more than to mark up his neck.

"M-Montana. W-why?"

"I could listen to your voice all day," you sighed, brushing your nose against his. It was obvious it took all his strength to not look away from you, to flash a weak smile instead.

"Really?" Normally, his accent wasn't something folks enjoyed hearing. After years in the navy, he learned how to make himself sound neutral.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. I like your voice. And you." That rose tint had made itself a home on his cheeks, not that you minded. It was honestly the cutest thing.

"Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" You asked. It was almost sad that he was genuinely shocked by this.

He shook his head, "I-it's just uh, usually, uh, I'm uh, not the one folks um, typically go for."

"Well, those folks are idiots," you responded, "you have a lot to offer: smart, sweet, kind, funny. Extremely handsome to boot."

You were being genuine. Bob couldn't help but smile, practically beaming.

"C-can I kiss you?" He found himself asking. Where that bravery came from, he wasn't sure.

He was genuine, something you didn't see often, particularly from those in the navy. Your fathers always had warned you of such, hence their 'no pilot' rule.

They never told you about what to do when you found a sweet, honest, good hearted man in the navy.

It probably helped that he wasn't technically a pilot.

You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to doubt for one moment, "Was beginning to worry that you'd never ask."

He was a good kisser. His large hands cupped your jaw and most of your neck. He was gentle when he titled your head down, moving his lips against yours.

You could kiss him for hours. When you broke away for air, his face was still red, though a proud smile was now on his face.

"You gonna take me home Robby?" You asked before placing a gentle kiss on his jawline.

"I-I don't know what your car looks like," his voice was now low, vibrating into your shoulder, a stark contrast to the adorable observation he was making.

You kissed his cheek again, the corner of your lips brushing against his, "you're really fucking cute Robby."

Bob knew in that moment he would follow you to the ends of the Earth.

"Y-you're um, you're one t-to talk." It sounded much smoother in his head. And yet, you didn't mind the stuttering or that he was still nervous despite being brave enough to ask if he could kiss you.

You liked him, just the way he was.

It was a nice change. A really nice change.

"Why don't we get out of here?" You hopped off his lap, extending a hand out to him.

Bob thanked whatever higher being was up there for throwing him a bone before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. Granted, you had made your interest in him well known, so was there really a point to being so nervous?

He grabbed your hand, following you out of the bar. As you two left, you flashed a wink to your friend Bradley, who simply gave you a thumbs up, signaling his approval.

"Did you plan that?" Phoenix asked as she watched you and Bob walk out the door.

"Not planned, more like hoped it would work out that way," Bradley responded, smiling.

[deakyjoe]

Pattern Breaker

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (afab)

Category: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love

Summary: A love confession turns to more once Bob knows you’re interested.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral (pussy eating king), vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, handjob, kissing, groping, scratching/marking, Bob fucks, love confessions, fluff, talks of bad dates, reader described as having hair and being shorter than Bob (but nothing else), swearing/cursing - let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 7.1k (it kinda ran away from me)

A/N: My humble contribution to the Bob Fucks Agenda 🫡

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Bob Floyd was head over heels in love with you.

Yet he had no idea what series of mistakes had landed him here. In the Hard Deck. With you. Sat next to him. In a tight booth. Your thigh pressed up against his. Tracing patterns with the tip of your finger on the back of his hand. Many would argue that this didn't seem like a bad thing. Why would something so intimate with someone he was in love with be a mistake? Well, the issue was that you were doing it in a totally platonic way.

You were doing it mindlessly too, as you engaged in idle conversation with Phoenix opposite you, which almost made it worse. Bob Floyd's brain was whirring at a million miles per second over something you were doing without even thinking about it. It took every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from moving. Closer to you or further away, he didn't know. But he tried to stay still. So very still. Just so you'd keep doing it.

He was also desperately trying to pay attention to the story you were telling Phoenix, about the latest bad first date you'd been on. It appeared to be a regular thing with you. A string of first dates where you knew before you'd even ordered the entrées that they wouldn't be the right guy for you. And you always had valid reasons, at least in Bob's opinion.

"He told me he doesn't like sunsets." You groaned. "Like, who doesn't like sunsets?"

Bob personally loved sunsets.

Phoenix frowned at you. "Did he give a reason why?"

Bob imagined that Phoenix was feeling a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, she was the one who'd set you up with this guy. But he was thankful for it. He didn't know what he'd do with himself when you finally managed to find the right guy and it wasn't him.

"Something about the day ending and having a mindset about being on the grind I think, I don't know." You sighed, pausing your finger's movement against the back of Bob's hand for a moment before carrying on. He almost had a heart attack when you pressed your cheek into his shoulder and started leaning against him as well.

"Sorry it didn't work out. I can find you another guy maybe, umm..." Phoenix trailed off with a thoughtful hum.

But you waved her off. "No, it's okay. I think I'm done with blind dates for now."

Bob's head snapped towards you. Oh?

"If you're sure." Phoenix started to rise from the table, pressing her hands into the wooded surface. "I think I'm gonna call it a night. See you two tomorrow."

"Goodnight, see you tomorrow." You smiled at her, nudging Bob with your elbow when he stayed silent.

He flinched away from you. "Ow! What? Oh. Yeah, goodnight."

Phoenix's eyes flicked between the two of you, an amused huff leaving her mouth before she gave you both a mock salute and left the bar.

There was a silence between the two of you for a moment as you relaxed against Bob's shoulder a little more.

"What about you? Ready to call it a night?" You asked, turning to rest your chin on his bicep so you could look up at his face.

He glanced at you briefly, turning away again when he realised how close your faces were in that position and cleared his throat. "No, I'm good here for a little longer. If you are?"

You nodded and sat up, extracting yourself from his touch completely. Bob almost sobbed at the loss of contact.

"Yeah, I'm good." You paused to take him in, how he wasn't looking directly at you. He did that sometimes. You always figured he was just a little awkward about eye contact. Which was a shame considering his eyes were your favourite shade of blue.

Bob did flicker his eyes towards you then, wondering why you were staring at him silently. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" He turned to face you properly, knees angled towards you to show that you had his full attention. "What about?"

You looked at him for a few seconds too long, enough to make him anxious and you think that maybe you'd given something away with your eyes. "You know how when we met we just clicked?"

Bob was surprised at that question. But he knew exactly what you meant. So he nodded. "Yeah."

You scrunched your nose and looked away from him for a second. "Well, I'm not clicking with any of these guys I'm going on blind dates with."

He knew that, you’d said as much. So he really didn't know where you were going with this. "Okay...”

"I just wish it was as easy as it was with you. Like we just work together so perfectly, I don't even feel like I'm trying with you."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking sideways at you. "Uh-"

Your eyes widened and you were quick to clarify, hands held up in apology. "And not like I don't put any effort into it with you but just like I don't feel as if I'm constantly trying to make it work, y'know?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

You sighed frustratedly. "Do you get what I'm trying to say here, Bob?"

"Not really." He shook his head and gave a weak, apologetic smile.

You chuckled. "I'm trying to say that I've never clicked with a guy like I have with you."

"Right." He straightened up.

"But we're just friends." You said slowly.

He hesitated. "Mhm."

You squinted at him. "To cut it short I'm trying to say that I think I'm in love with you."

Bob could have fallen out of his seat.

"Oh!"

Now, that caught him really off guard.

"Well, I'm trying to figure out my feelings for you. Because they're certainly more than friendly!" You laughed quietly. "Which isn't really fair. To me or to you. But it's gotta be done because I'm sick of not clicking with men and being on dates where I'm just constantly thinking of how much easier it would be if I were sat across from you instead."

Bob ignored most of your rambling, fixating on one little statement. "Why's it not fair?"

Your face crumpled momentarily. "It's going to make it awkward for you if I am in fact in love with you. And it's unfair for me because I might be in love with a guy who only views me platonically."

Bob looked at you for a moment, eyes wide and almost pleading, and uttered your name softly.

You frowned. "What?"

He gave you a meaningful look.

"You do view me platonically, right?" You leant backwards. "Right?"

He glanced away from you before looking back, giving a short and sharp shake of his head. No.

The world shook around you.

"But- but you never made a move. I thought that you..." You trailed off into distressed thought.

"Oh, I made moves. Just not very obvious ones apparently." He cleared his throat with a quick cough, scrunching his face momentarily in embarrassment.

"Why did you never just say?"

"I guessed that you weren't interested since you never seemed to reciprocate my- my moves." He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed at the thought of his moves.

"But I'm all over you!" You exclaimed. "I'm so touchy!"

He froze and turned to you stiffly. "I thought you were just like that. With everyone!"

"Have you ever seen me touch another human being half as much as I touch you?" You said monotonously.

"Well..." He thought about it. He hadn't. You gave hugs, sure. But you certainly didn't stand with your head resting on anyone's shoulder, arms wrapped around their bicep like you did with him. You didn't sit next to anyone, legs resting over their thighs, like you did with him. You definitely didn't trace patterns on the back of anyone's hand like you had been with him earlier.

You let him think about it for a few moments before interrupting his thoughts. "You didn't answer my question. Why didn't you just say?"

Bob looked deep into your eyes, recognising the look of regret he could feel within himself. "By the time I had the courage to... the friendship was already solidified. And I thought it would ruin it."

"Oh, Bob." You smiled widely at him. "You should've said something. I had a huge crush on you when we first met."

Have a huge crush. Have.

He perked up slightly. "You did?"

No. Do.

"Yeah! I buried it after a while because I figured you weren't interested. And now I'm realising that I'm probably in love with you anyway." You found it almost funny how the two of you seemed to be in the exact same situation and yet had no idea how the other was feeling.

He decided to be honest. "It would certainly brighten my day if you were."

You had a thought suddenly. "Walk me home?"

Bob felt a sense of whiplash from the rapid change in topic. But didn't question it. "O-okay."

You grinned at him and motioned for him to get up, following him out of the booth and grabbing his hand once you were stood next to him. Not having to worry about closing out a tab with Penny since you'd been paying for drinks each time you ordered, you didn't hesitate in dragging him behind you out the back door of the Hard Deck and onto the beach.

You took a glimpse at Bob next to you, finding him already watching you. "Figured we could do the moonlit beach walk on the way back to my place."

He just nodded, not missing the way you were still grasping onto his hand as the two of you started walking in the direction of your home. The moonlight beach walk wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. You'd done it countless times before, in fact. It was just a nice thing to do that happened to involve some nice views that you both enjoyed. It just felt different this time, Bob thought to himself.

He had to ask. "Your last blind date, did he really not like sunsets?"

You looked at him, delighted by the seemingly random question. "Yeah. How off-putting is that?!"

"Very." Bob mumbled. "Y'know... I really like sunsets."

Ah, you saw what he was getting at.

"I know." You chirped. "I'll never forget the sunset on the day we met when you explained that the reason they're so colourful is because of the way the light scatters through the atmosphere. It was very purple that night."

His eyebrows shot up. He'd forgotten he'd told you that. But you were right. It had been very purple. He'd watched you take about thirty photographs of the sky. And knew then that he was in trouble.

The rest of the walk back to your place was quiet, a few passing comments made between the two of you as you pointed out a cute dog and Bob showed you where new flowers were beginning to blossom on a tree you regularly saw. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole time, swinging gently between your bodies.

It was easy. Just how it should be.

Silence shrouded the two of you as you approached your front door, wondering what was supposed to come next. Bob was still hung up on your sudden abandonment of your conversation back at the Hard Deck as you stopped at your door. Why had you dropped it?

The question escaped him as you suddenly tugged him a lot closer, so your chests almost touched, and lowered your voice.

"Come inside."

It wasn't proposed as a question, or even a request, but as more of a statement. Like you were telling him that he should follow you into your home to find out what happens next. Because of this, Bob could only reply with one thing.

"Okay."

There was no turning back now.

You beamed at him and rushed to unlock your door, flicking on a light switch once it was open and ushering him in behind you. Bob had been to your place countless times before, even crashed on your couch once or twice after nights there had run a little too long, but this time felt different. Just like the walk on the beach had.

He supposed it was because of what the two of you confessed earlier that night. But he still couldn't shake the thoughts about the fact that the conversation hadn't carried on to a point where he knew what was going to happen next between the two of you. Bob wanted answers. And he guessed that they were hidden in the depths of your home.

You guided him to your kitchen, offered him a drink which he politely declined, and stopped suddenly in the middle of the room to turn on your heel and look at him.

"Do you know why I asked you back here?"

He stilled a few paces in front of you. "Honestly? No."

You smiled at that. "Because I decided that I am."

Bob was even more confused. "Am what?"

You barked out a laugh like you suddenly realised you'd left out half of your sentence and that what you'd said had made no coherent sense. "In love with you. Absolutely head over heels. One hundred per cent.”

He said nothing in reply, sensing that you had more you wanted to say. He was right.

"And I wanted to be able to explore that possibility for us without prying eyes. In the privacy of my home." You huffed, slightly frustrated. Bob took a single step towards you. "I don't- I don't know how to say this."

He closed the gap, hands resting on your arms to reassure you. You'd never struggled to tell him anything and he certainly didn't want that to start now. "It's me. You can say anything to me. You know that. It's okay."

When you met his gaze again, your eyes were slightly glassy with tears. But you blinked them away. They were angry tears at yourself for taking this long to get to this point with him. It should've happened so much sooner.

Your eyes flickered to his lips. Bob knew what that meant, he was feeling it himself, but wanted you to say it.

Letting out a slightly shaky laugh, you composed yourself. "You might need to let me spiral and talk for a minute."

He smiled softly, surprised he wasn't doing his own spiralling and talking in this situation. "That's okay."

You nodded and sighed. "Okay, so. I don't want things to change between us. Well, I do. But, like, not everything. I still want us to be us. I still want to be able to tell you everything and have easy conversations and just go for walks on the beach and talk about meaningless things and have you explain stuff to me that you think I'll find interesting and sit close to each other just because we can not because we have to."

You stopped for breath and Bob felt like he was having to restrain his heart from bursting out of his chest.

"We'll still just be me and you and things will be easy between us. Like they always have been. But now... instead of sleeping on my couch after late nights, you'll- you'll sleep in my bed. And we'll kiss and, god, have a lot of sex I hope."

Bob chuckled at that and you joined him, happy to see that he wasn't freaking out at everything you were saying.

"We'll still be me and you but just... evolved. Right?"

Bob had started the evening knowing he was head over heels in love with you. He couldn't believe the night was ending with that love somehow growing even more, combining with yours to create some force that defied the laws of nature. The room was practically swimming in it, he could feel it prickling at the surface of his skin and taste it on the top of his tongue.

He nodded firmly at you. "Me and you but evolved."

You visibly relaxed under his hands and smiled giddily up at him. "Great, can you kiss me now?"

You didn't have to ask Bob twice.

The kiss started off sweet, almost innocent. A few, slightly open mouthed, pecks as the two of you giggled against each other. It was something new for the two of you. So even thought it felt right, it was still new territory to explore. But it didn't take long for it to take a turn. As soon as you opened your mouth fully to lick gently against Bob's lips, it was like something in him snapped.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you flush against him, chest to chest, and his other hand tangled in the back of your hair. His nose crammed into your cheek, his glasses falling slightly askew, as he licked into your mouth hotly with his head angled down to meet you halfway.

Your head whirled with the thought that he was good at this. Bob Floyd was an extraordinarily good kisser. Why hadn't you done this sooner?

You let out soft moans to encourage him despite him not even seeming shy about the idea anymore. In fact, Bob had no sense of restraint left in him. He'd waited so long for this, for you. And now he was lost in the feeling of your skin against his and the sounds you were making in reply to what he was doing. Which is why he let his hands drift across you more, not anchoring his touch to any specific place.

You felt like you were on fire, no time to breathe as breaks for oxygen were mere fractions of a second long. You'd never imagined him being capable of making you feel like this so quickly. Your lower abdomen burning with desire and your panties already practically soaked through. And he hadn't even touched you intimately yet. You could only hope that you were having half the same effect on him.

Bob's hands lowered themselves slowly, tracing along your ribcage, circling your waist, gripping at your hips, before he tentatively let them rest on your ass. You hummed in motivating appreciation and pushed yourself up even more to kiss him impossibly harder. He took that as a good sign, fingers digging into the flesh beneath them and rocking your pelvis towards his. Where you found that he was hard.

A noise rumbled in your chest, leaking out as a high pitched whine directly into his mouth.

Bob pulled away with a slight look of concern in his eyes which now held almost no trace of the blue shade you'd come to adore, pupils blown wide enough to engulf his irises. "Is this too much? We can slow down."

You shook your head, slowing down being the last thing you wanted. "No, I'm just surprised that you're so... handsy. I always thought you were a gentleman."

"Oh." He blushed a deep red, the colour reaching the tips of his ears. "I'm just eager, I guess. We can wait. I mean, I can wait. If it's too much."

You leaned back in closer to him, lips brushing across his. "Don't you think we've waited long enough?"

He did.

Somehow the second round of kissing was even more searing, almost consuming, than the first. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand gripping tightly onto his hair and tugging occasionally. Bob didn't let up squeezing at your ass after he'd realised that the sound you'd made previously was one of pleasure and not pain, rocking your hips into his a couple times more for good measure.

When his lips moved to trail a line of kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, your eyes practically rolled back into your head. This was too good to be true. You were stood in your kitchen, at almost midnight, and Bob was sucking a hickey into your neck. How was this even real?

You realised that if you didn't move soon then the two of you were going to end up fucking on the kitchen floor. And whilst you weren't totally against the idea, you figured you should at least offer him the comfort of a bed for your first time together.

"Bedroom, Floyd. Now." You gasped, grasping his hair to pull him away from your neck. But when you got a good look at him, you almost abandoned the idea completely. His hair was ruffled from where you'd been pulling at it, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, his face was flushed a rosy pink, his lips were swollen and kiss bitten, and his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them. He was a sight to behold.

You snapped back to reality, fixed his glasses so they sat correctly on his face, clenched your legs together, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt to tug him behind you towards your bedroom. Bob, of course, had no complaints about this and followed you very happily. After watching you kick off your shoes as the both of you scurried down your hallway, he did the same. Not many thoughts were occurring in his brain at that moment, not any clean ones anyway, but one thing was certain as he looked at you: he'd never wanted someone more.

The bedroom door slammed shut behind him and before he had the chance to take in any of his surroundings he was pressed up against it and your lips were on his again, your hands desperately clutching at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it from his pants.

"Why- do- you- always- wear- your- uniform?" The question was asked between fiery kisses. Not that you were complaining. You loved to see him in his uniform. But he always looked so formal.

Bob waited until you were too distracted trying to unbuckle his belt to kiss him so he could get his answer out fully. "You once told me I look handsome in it."

You paused and tilted your head up to look at him. Taking in his open expression, you could tell that he was being honest. "God, I fucking love that you listen to me."

He laughed momentarily before his jaw snapped shut and he swallowed thickly as you began fumbling with his belt buckle again. "Your hands are shaking."

The observation was simple but had you freezing anyway. "Care to help a girl out then?"

Bob could tell that you were getting anxious, nerves suddenly overruling the initial excitement and lust. He could understand. He was currently running on the high of you dragging him to your bedroom. Maybe you also needed something like that to keep you going.

He glanced over your shoulder towards your bed and nodded towards it. "Lie down."

Bob watched as the fire quickly re-ignited in your eyes and you did as you were told, bouncing on the mattress as you sprawled yourself across it. Undoing his belt completely, he took a few steps towards you until he stood between your open legs.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him eagerly. The mattress dipped as he knelt on it and crawled across it until he was hovering over you.

You hummed quietly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "Hmm, I like this position."

He leaned in close, as if going to kiss you. "I thought you might."

His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest. It was a tone you'd only had the privilege of hearing a few times before. During late nights when he was tired and could barely keep his eyes open as you continued to talk his ears off with meaningless nonsense but did so anyway just so he could listen to you talk. When he'd held you close to him during crowded nights at the Hard Deck and spoken directly into your ear so you could hear him over the sounds flooding the place. Moments that were intimate between you both but you'd been too oblivious to see as more than platonic.

It was the voice that Bob Floyd used to flirt with you.

You pulled back, wide eyed, to get a good look at him. "Oh, my god. You have made moves."

His brows scrunch for a moment, a confused laugh bubbling out of him. "Yeah, I said so earlier."

"I know but that voice." You poked his chest accusingly. "It's your flirty, sultry, bedroom voice! You've used it on me before!"

"It's not my-" He paused, thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Maybe you're right."

"I like it, it's hot. Do it again." You giggled when he rolled his eyes, reaching your hands up to start unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

"And what would you like me to say?" His voice dipped back down to the low tone and you had to suppress a shiver.

"Anything. I just like hearing you talk." You reached the last button and helped him slide the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a white undershirt that you knew always resided underneath. The brown uniform shirt was discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"How about how I think it's time for you to start removing some clothes? Since my shirt's off and my belt is unbuckled." His raised a finger to trace along the neckline of your t-shirt.

You whined. "Not fair. You're not even showing any skin yet. If I take my shirt off then all I've got is a bra on underneath."

Bob chuckled, low voice lost for a moment. "Is my white t-shirt not the equivalent of your bra?"

You pondered it for a moment. Maybe he was right. "Depends if you like the way my tits look in this bra as much as I like the way your biceps look in that white shirt."

He took a quick glance at his arms which were caging you into the bed, hand planted on either side of your head. "My biceps, huh?"

"A weakness of mine, I admit." You shrugged and sat up, pushing at his chest to give you some room. "Have to stop myself from biting them when I rest my head on your shoulder."

"For the record, I'd totally let you."

With a laugh you took Bob's hands in yours and guided them to the hem of your shirt, giving him a nod of confirmation. "You would now but let's be honest, it would've been a little unusual of me to just suddenly bite you before."

He tried desperately to keep eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have said a word of complaint."

"I'll remember that for the future." You paused and noticed his frozen stare. "You're allowed to look, y'know?"

He knew but he was holding himself back with the knowledge that he'd probably go feral once he saw you without a shirt on. Just below his eye line he could tell that the bra you were wearing was lacy and pretty much see-through. He took a deep breath before looking properly and let out a very low groan when he saw that your nipples were hard and very visible through the fabric.

Bob's dick twitched in his pants at the sight. He feared he wouldn't last very long once the two of you actually got going.

You leant back on your hands and watched him look over you. It was kind of entertaining and certainly a confidence booster for you. "Like what you see?"

His eyes met yours again. "Shut up. You know I fucking do."

That sent a ripple of heat through you. Despite knowing him for so long, you'd never heard Bob curse. He'd let out the occasional damn at big inconveniences but never anything more than that. You figured it was part of him being such a gentleman and the fact that he loved to point out that his mother raised him right.

"Careful, Floyd. That dirty mouth will get you in trouble." You flattened your back onto the bed again, pulling him down on top of you by a handful of his shirt.

"If by trouble you mean with you underneath me then I'm willing to take that risk." His voice somehow got lower, a raspy edge being added to it. It's like he knew exactly how to break you.

You grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him down to kiss you again, you'd gone too long without feeling his mouth on yours, and you revelled in the grunt he let out against your lips.

This was a whole new side to Bob that you were seeing. And you were loving it. Somehow it was still so easy, the two of you continuing to just bounce off of each other and the sexual chemistry was luckily just naturally there as well. You thought it may have been slightly awkward between you but you'd never felt so confident about sleeping with someone in your life.

Bob realised he should probably check something before the two of you got any further so pulled away momentarily. "Do you have a condom?"

"Oh, yeah! Wait, hang on-" You slid away from him, hanging over the edge of the bed to rifle through a drawer in your nightstand. Producing a small box, you waved it triumphantly at him.

"Hoping those blind dates were going to be successful, huh?" He teased, reaching out to grab your waist to drag you back underneath him. He was relieved you had the box but if you didn't then he knew it wouldn't have stopped him from doing other things to you until you were able to buy some condoms.

Your jaw dropped. "No! Just never underprepared."

"I applaud your readiness. I'm sure if the apocalypse hits then we'll be thankful for your supply of condoms."

"If the apocalypse hits then we'll be tasked with repopulating the Earth and have to have lots of unprotected sex to do so." You bit back playfully, glad to see when his eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the mention of doing it raw. "Oh, you like that thought, huh?"

"You caught me. Guilty." He raised a hand in surrender before gesturing at you. "Now let's get naked so we can have lots of protected sex."

You had to fight back a surge of laughter but let a few giggles escape when you found Bob looking at you with an amused look of his own. You were glad that the two of you were still able to joke and be you even in an intimate moment like this, relieved that it didn't suddenly become serious.

Clothes were discarded and quick kisses were exchanged as the two of you inched closer and closer to where you both really wanted to be. After your bra had been unclasped and thrown into the void with every other item of clothing, and Bob had thoroughly explored your chest with both his hands and mouth, you fell back onto the bed with him on top of you for another round of kissing. It's like the two of you couldn't keep your lips separated for longer than necessary.

His bare chest pressed into yours, a sheen of sweat gliding between you, as he rocked his hips against you, grinding his hard length into your clothed pussy.

If you'd told Bob at the beginning of the evening that this was how his night would end then he would've laughed and told you he didn't believe you. But now that he was here, he couldn't have imagined it any other way. That's what made him realise that enough was enough.

He suddenly broke the kiss and sat up again, kneeling in between your legs. Hooking two fingers into the waistband of your panties, he made eye contact with you. "May I?"

You nodded vigorously.

Bob shook his head. "Words."

You could've orgasmed right there and then. "Yes, you can."

He took that answer and started to slide your panties down your legs slowly, helping you to lift your hips to get them off easier. Once they reached your ankles he plucked them off and cast them aside, planting a quick kiss on your calf before lowering your legs either side of him again.

You reached for the condoms to pass them to him, aware that you were only the one step of removing his underwear away before he'd finally be inside you.

But he pushed your hand aside, choosing instead to slide his palms down your thighs. "In a minute."

"We haven't got forever, y'know. Get on it." You laughed, curious as to what he was doing.

"Gotta get you ready first." He mumbled, pushing your legs apart so he could see better.

Oh? "I can assure you that I'm plenty ready and wet and would like your dick inside me now please."

"So polite." He hummed with a smile on his face. "And I can see how wet you are. Just gotta make sure that you're relaxed enough to take me."

"Somebody's confident about their size, huh?"

He laughed as he shook his head. "Would you rather me not go down on you?"

As much as you were teasing him not to, you very much wanted him to. "Fine, if you insist." You replied with a sigh and an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

Bob almost chuckled, but when he looked up into your eyes again he was met with an angelic vision. You were stretched out on the bed, naked, for him. All for him. He reminded himself to thank the universe at some point. But, before that, he needed to thank you by making you come.

He shuffled back on the bed, moving your legs over his shoulders as he did so, and laid flat on his stomach before you. And got to work.

Bob practically devoured you.

You writhed underneath his grasp, one of his arms thrown across your stomach to keep you in place, as he licked and sucked at you. Your clit throbbed against his tongue as he flicked it from side to side over the sensitive spot. One of your hands flew to tangle in his hair as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

"Oh- oh, my god." You panted, chest heaving with laboured breaths. You looked down at him to see that his glasses had fogged up. You let out a slightly strangled laugh at him as he decided to slide a finger into you at that moment.

"Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped and collapsed back onto the pillows.

Bob moaned into you and you let out a cry at the feeling of the vibrations running through you. His finger pumped in and out of you. Slowly at first before he increased the pace and then, once you were somehow even wetter, introduced a second finger.

And with two of his fingers inside of you, bending slightly to hit that sweet spot inside of you, along with his tongue making tight little circles on your clit, it didn't take long for the pressure to build in your lower abdomen and then suddenly explode through you. Your body shook with pleasure, a tidal wave of profanity and primal noises escaping your mouth.

Bob gave you no time to rest though, surging up your body and kissing you again, giving you a taste of yourself which had you moaning into his mouth. When he pulled back again, you smiled. His glasses were still foggy.

"Can you even see through these?" You asked, reaching up to take them off of him. Wiping gently at the lenses with your bedsheets, you awaited an answer.

"Not really. I usually take them off for this kind of thing. But I forgot. In the excitement." He looked away from you, embarrassed. Funny how he could still be shy despite having just eaten you out like no one else had before.

You hummed quietly, taking his face in your hands to direct him to kiss you again after you'd placed his glasses down on your nightstand as you wrapped your legs around the backs of his and bucked your hips up towards him. "Are we going to do something about you now? Because I know you've been hard since we first kissed."

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed how quickly that happened." The low, raspy voice was back and you felt yourself melting a little on the inside.

"Difficult not to when we were practically dry humping in the middle of the kitchen." You trailed a finger down his torso over his, extremely sculpted, abs and stopped at the waistband of his boxers, hooking the tip of your finger inside.

He watched what you were doing. "I did get a little carried away there, granted."

You paused, asking him the silent question of approval to carry on, before slipping your hand into his underwear and grabbing him. His skin was soft and velvety under your palm and, before you even had the chance to start stroking him, his dick twitched in your hand. "Mmm... so sensitive, Bobby."

He whimpered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You reached for the box of condoms again, realising this probably wouldn't last very long if you did much else with your hand, and pulled one foil wrapper out. Quietly uttering his name to get him to open his eyes again, you pushed the condom against Bob's chest. "Put it on."

He didn't reply, didn't need to reply, just followed your instructions and did as he was told. Straightening up again into a kneeling position, he flailed around a little in an attempt to kick his underwear off. You tried not to laugh. When he succeeded, he ripped the packaging open with his teeth and rolled the condom onto himself in one smooth motion. And then he positioned himself over you, notching the tip of his length at your entrance.

He looked down at you for confirmation to go ahead.

You had one last teasing comment. "Your confidence in your size was warranted."

He huffed out a laugh. "I'd be insulted in your lack of confidence if I didn't love you so much."

Warmth bloomed through your chest. It had been implied several times throughout the night but hearing the words come out of his mouth meant so much more. He loved you.

You beamed up at him. "Glad to know that your love for me overrides any possible offence. I'll be using that to my advantage in future. Now please fuck me, I'm going crazy here."

Bob adored the way you were able to flip a conversation so easily. But he was glad you'd said it as he was beginning to experience his own temporary insanity being on the brink of having sex with you but not quite being there just yet.

He pushed into you slowly at first and then all at once, not being able to hold himself back. Once he'd bottomed out he paused for a moment, a choked groan leaving his throat. You whined at the stretch, glad for the previous orgasm prepping you for this.

"Just- just give me a second." Bob warned you, hanging his head as he took deep breaths.

Patiently, you waited.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to get a grip of himself as he eased out of you before slamming back in again. You gasped at the sensation. He set a pace, a steady yet almost brutal one. The loud sounds of sex filled the room and you hoped your neighbours were long asleep.

Bob buried his face in your neck, using his elbows to keep himself from smothering you. The noises he let out into your skin were heavenly and you were thankful that they weren't too muffled. You clawed as his back, making scratches that you'd have to apologise profusely for the next day.

"Fuck, harder please. Please harder." You didn't think it was possible for him to go any harder, the way he pounded into you already making the headboard shake, but you begged him to anyway. And somehow he found a way.

Your skin prickled with a burn where he slapped against you, one of his large hands sliding down to grip harshly at the flesh of your ass in order to pull you impossibly closer to him. He continuously hit that sweet spot inside of you, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling. The pressure was steadily building in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with every thrust of Bob’s hips.

You clung onto his shoulders tightly as you plummeted off the edge, your thighs locking in on either side of him to lock him in place. Bob paused his movements for a second, feeling you clench around him as your throat formed a silent scream that came out as a gasp, and only started up again when you relaxed beneath him.

He pulled away from your neck to look down at you, finding a giddy smile on your face. He kissed you, all teeth and tongues, as he pumped into you a few more times before spilling into the condom. And then he collapsed on top of you.

The two of you stayed there for a couple of minutes, both catching your breath.

“I’m glad you had so many failed dates.” Bob whispered into the glistening skin of your chest.

You laughed quietly. “Me too.”

He eased himself up slowly, pulling out of you with a hiss, to dispose of the condom. “Do you think Phoenix purposely set you up on bad dates so you’d admit your feelings for me?”

You thought about it for a second. “Probably. She knows I’ve had a crush on you for forever. And I can’t think of any other good reason that she’d set me up with a sunset hater.”

Bob pulled back the covers on the bed and gestured for you to get in, crawling in beside you. “Can’t believe that guy.”

“I know!” You laughed and turned on your side to look at him. “Wished she’d done it sooner then we could’ve been doing this for a lot longer.”

He joined in on your laughter. “Trust me, we’ll have plenty of time now to be doing this a lot more.”

You smiled. “I’m glad.”

He smiled back. “Me too.”

You scooted closer to each other, limbs tangling together into one big mess, softs words of love exchanged between you as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms.

A/N: this is the longest thing I think I’ve ever posted as a single thing… hope you enjoyed!

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

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[mynameismckenziemae]

Underestimated

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC

Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.

——————————————————————————

For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.

But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.

It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.

“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.

“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.

“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.

Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.

“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.

Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”

“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.

You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.

“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.

“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.

“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”

“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.

“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”

His expression quickly turns angry.

“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”

“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.

“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.

But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.

“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”

He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”

You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.

Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.

“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”

“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.

“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.

Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.

“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.

You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.

He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.

“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.

He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.

“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.

“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”

You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.

“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.

You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.

“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.

“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.

“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”

He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.

“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”

“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.

You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.

Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.

“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.

Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.

He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.

“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.

“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”

“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.

Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.

He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.

“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”

“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”

“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:

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[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.

[bradshawsbitch]

sweet as honey | bob floyd x f!reader

this is can be read as a continuation of my valentines challenge song fic 'best friend'!

this is based on an idea that @sebsxphia elaborated on as one of their lovely nonnys asked about bob practicing eating out on you😵‍💫 thanks for letting me write this out, seb!🫶

disclaimer; in my head, bob floyd is pussy eating king™ and i felt it was my civic duty to tell you all about it. man has been obsessed with it since he first saw a spread in a porn mag about it, and he'll be damned if he doesn't find out exactly what you like.

warnings; best friends to lovers, mentions of intoxication, cunnilingus, pussy drunk bob, afab reader, no use of y/n.

plot; you have always needed bob, but what if he forgets the one time he actually had you?

tagging people who might like; @lewmagoo @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @theharddeck @mothdruid @bobfloydsbabe @roleycoleyreccenter

Soft whispers of love confessions had turned to sleepy reminiscing as darkness fell outside of the window, starlight and moonshine illuminating the outlines of two bodies intertwined in between pristine white sheets. Bob had never thought that he would ever experience feeling so at peace and so whole - the way he had somehow always felt when you were around. This was different though, he felt like he’d finally come home after years of wandering around. 

Even better, he had managed to make it out alive after the worst mission he’s ever flown. He had made it back to you. They had done it. The adrenaline should be overwhelming him, the emotional toil should be tearing at his insides - he should feel like a monster lurks inside his chest ready to claw and tear at his chest - but he doesn’t.

Bob only feels the soothing hands running over his face, only feels the soft breath ghosting over his face as words of love sink into his very skin. Only hears your soft giggles and your emotional voice telling him you loved him. You loved him. God, the very notion made Bob dizzy.

His larger hands had settled on your waist, his thumb softly ghosting over the same warm spot again and again. A couple of times he had noticed the motion had elicited goosebumps over your skin, and if he squeezed his hand slightly he sometimes felt you shiver.

It drove him mad. How responsive you were to his touch. He wondered if he could make your breath hitch, if he could have sweet, soft sounds spilling from your parted lips if he let his hands and lips roam all over your body. 

In his mind, there were… fuzzy memories, that he was not entirely sure if they were memories, or just a recollection of a wet dream his teen self had conjured up of you. Either way, the details were rather blurry, but his mind was replaying soft sighs… your soft moans for him. It must have been a dream.

“Do you–” you trailed off uncertainly, voice still barely above a whisper “Do you remember that one night when we were 18?” Bob furrowed his brows at the way you avoided his attempts at eye contact, stubbornly keeping your face nuzzled into his neck.

“Darlin’, we spent many nights together when we were 18…” Bob smiled, letting his thumb brush softly across your cheek “You’ll have to give me a little more,” his voice was low as he tried to coax you into making eye contact with him again. Craning his neck to try to observe your face as you laid on top of his chest.

“You were drunk, I think - didn’t seem like it at the time…” you trailed off, again, Bob smiled softly, letting his palm stroke soothingly up and down your back.

“Unfortunately, I was drunk many nights back then too, Sunny. What is it you’re nervous to tell me?” 

“Do you remember going down on me?” Bob’s eyes had fluttered shut some time ago, shot wide open at that sentence - jumbled flashes of sounds and sensations flooding his mind. 

“Oh… oh god, that wasn’t— that wasn’t a wet dream?” Bob could kill himself. Could actually go back to the Super Hornet and try to do what Phoenix does with all of that pilot shit until he ran himself into the damn ground. 

“You mean to tell me… that I have had the immense honor of having my fuckin’ face buried between your legs and it was not a dream?” he heard your nervous giggles, and groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, before shuffling so that you were lying beside him, looking into your eyes - they looked apprehensive, perhaps a little bashful. 

“I am so sorry, darlin’... I truly- I had no idea– I thought that was just one of many dreams my imagination conjured up about you,” Bob murmured, brows pinched together “Did I hurt your feelings terribly?” he never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to be the reason you shed any tears or felt any discomfort.

“I mean - I wasn’t sure, I mean I wanted you to, God, it’s all I ever wanted after it too! But I guess I was a bit upset a little while after when you never brought it up…” you trailed off, fingers tracing intricate swirls on his sternum, gaze following your finger carefully, avoiding his eyes. 

“Sunny…” Bob spoke softly, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him, searching your eyes before slowly letting his lips connect with yours, warmth spreading between the both of you as your lips moved together languidly. 

“Will you please tell me about it?” murmuring against your lips, Bob wanted to see if your story could jog his memory of the first time he apparently ate you out. 

He felt your lips quirk into a smile, before you broke away, nuzzling your face into his neck, where you placed soft, wet kisses that had his breath hitching, a small, soft moan leaving his lips as yours latched on to suck softly at his pulse point.

“Well… I asked you…” 

It was late, the party had ended almost an hour ago, and you and Bob were lounging around in your childhood bedroom, walls covered in a soft pink - and your forgotten stuffed animals placed on bookshelves that were filled to the brim with books you’d read in your early teens. You’d told your mom several times you wanted to get rid of them, but she insisted that your younger sister might want them now that you were 18. 

Bob was sprawled on the floor, chuckling softly at something he read in a women’s magazine you’d bought last week. 

“What’s so funny, Robby?” you spoke softly from your bed, having laid down on the plush blankets and covers that were bunched in the middle of it. You’d stayed sober this night, wanting to make sure Robert made it home safe. 

“They’re… dead wrong about some of these like ‘tricks to tell your boyfriend to do in bed’ stuff,” Robby replied, amused, twinkling eyes finding yours as you looked at him quizzically. “Oh yeah, think you know better than the women who wrote the article, Floyd?” 

“Mm, I know I do. These women can’t have gotten good head if their best tip is to ‘tell him to spell the alphabet with his tongue’,” he scoffed before closing the magazine with a shrug. Licking your lips, you took in his lanky form spread out on your carpet, tight, black jeans sitting low on his hips - just giving you a peak of the grey boxers underneath. 

“What do you think, huh, Sunny? Is that the best tip you’d give a lover?” he was smirking now as he looked up at you. Biting your lower lip, you shrugged “I don’t know…” 

“Well, what’s felt the best when someone’s gone down on you then?” you were sure Rob could tell that heat had rushed to your cheeks and neck, warming your body as you avoided his gaze. 

“I– no one’s ever made me cum with their mouth. They just wanna– get to the other stuff, y’know?” you hedged, finally looking at his blue eyes. His brows were furrowed, almost completely disappearing behind his horn rimmed glasses. “What do you mean?” his words were only a little slurred now, and he seemed more alert than he had been all night. 

“I mean, most guys I’ve been with have been reluctant to you know… go down! They stay there for a little while and then sort of– deem you ‘ready’ for the important part, I guess,” you shrugged, as if this was universally known. Your girlfriends had all agreed with you, most of their boyfriends would only use their hands, or if they had to they’d be down there for a couple of minutes before wanting to get their dicks wet instead. 

“That’s fucking insane!” Robby exclaimed, and you shushed him swiftly, not wanting him to wake your mother and father. “That’s fucking insane!” he stage whispered, making you giggle, as he made his way over to your bed, sitting down on the end of it. His palm wrapped around one of your ankles, slowly letting his thumb rub circles at the exposed skin there.

“Sunny… do you mean to tell me, you’ve never been given oral until you’ve cum?” Robert wouldn’t let you look away, and maybe you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to, his blue eyes were so captivating… so beautiful. Shaking your head, you looked up from beneath your lashes at him. 

“Do you want to?” Robby murmured, and you found yourself nodding before you could think twice about it. You’d always wanted Robby, always needed him. Craved his touch. And now he was offering it to you. “Sunny, you let me know what feels good, okay? I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s genuine sounds of pleasure, okay?” Rob’s voice was breathless as he leaned in to place fluttering kisses along your neck.

“Is this okay?” he murmured against your skin and you nodded as your eyelids fluttered closed, a small exhale leaving you as Bob’s frame hovered over yours after having gently laid you back against the pillows. 

“Good, I’m gonna take your jeans off now, okay, sweets?” you appreciated that he was talking you through it, as if he instinctively just knew you - knew your very inner workings, even if he was a little intoxicated. 

“Doin’ so good for me, Sunny… so pretty,” he sighed as he took in the cute pattern of your lacy thong. You’d only recently started wearing them, and found yourself happy that you chose baby blue ones - ones that when Rob gazed at them made you want to clench your thighs together at the groan he let out at the sight. 

“No, baby - open for me, that’s it - gotta keep your legs spread for me, pretty girl,” the blond hummed before settling between your legs, your panties still in place, which confused you a little. “Relax, honey,” he murmured as he kissed your inner thigh, his strong hands gently massaging your thighs. His lips explored the soft skin of your inner thighs, making you squirm each time his hot breath came closer to your core.

There was an ache there now, and ache you had never felt with any previous partner. An ache so deep, so strong, that an involuntary whimper left you as you tried to grind down, desperately needing your best friend to touch you.

“Baby… Sunny, you’re soaked for me… made these pretty light blue panties a nice navy, hm?” Bob groaned, pressing his nose against your clothed pussy, inhaling before placing soft kisses on your mound and gently against your covered clit, eliciting a soft mewl from you.

“Smell fuckin’ heavenly, babe - probably taste even better,” Bob groaned, and as you looked down, you could see him shuffling his body around, one of his legs now tucked a little higher than the one that was stretched out below him. 

“Still feelin’ okay up there, honey?” he murmured, looking up at you. Licking your lips you could only manage a pathetic ‘uh-huh’ in confirmation as Bob’s fingers pushed beneath your panties to drag up and down your wet slit. 

“Robby!” a breathless whine tore from you as the pads of his fingers gently pressed against your clit, before slowly dragging down to your opening and back again. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet… god,” Bob groaned, bucking his hips into the mattress once before he pushed the baby blue fabric of your underwear to the side to push his face closer to your cunt. His nose nudged at your lips, and you gasped as he let his pointed tongue tease the seam of your lips, his low moan at tasting you making your own hips buck slightly. 

“Robby, please - oh!” you hadn’t finished your sentence before Rob licked a broad stripe from your core to your clit, where he gently laved his tongue over it, over and over again. Breathing hard, small, pathetic noises left you, your hands clutching at the covers beneath them - before you let one hand tangle itself in Bob’s blond tresses, tugging in time with his licks and suckles on your clit. 

The hand that wasn’t holding your hips down sought yours out, and as Bob blindly found your hand, he intertwined your fingers for him to hold as he experimentally swirled his tongue around your entrance. He glanced up at you briefly, and seeing you panting and letting out soft mewls for him, he decided to try to let his tongue fuck into your wet hole. He’d seen in the various videos he’d studied that it drove some of the women wild, whilst some preferred getting only their clit stimulated.

As Bob fucked his tongue into your opening, you saw stars, a delirious and loud moan leaving you as your upper body shot up slightly - tugging harshly on his hair before biting your lips to keep quiet. As the muscle slipped in and out of you, shallowly at first and then deeper and more frantically the more Bob could tell you liked it, you noticed the bed was rocking slightly. Looking down, you could see Robby grinding his hips hard into your mattress, his own moans soaked up by your dripping cunt. 

“Fuck, never want to leave… this fucking beautiful pussy,” Robby was whining, licking, laving, sucking on your clit before fucking his tongue into your hole again, making you moan, gasp and whimper beneath him.

“Rob, baby, fuck - I– I’m so fucking close, feels so good– you feel so good!” you were gasping for air as Rob slurped and sucked at your cunt, seemingly lost in his own pleasure as well, rutting his hips hard and fast against your covers. 

“Fuck, please give it to me Sunny, give it all to me - fuck, wanna have you on my tongue…” Robert murmured laving his tongue over your clit, suckling it gently into his mouth before fucking his tongue into you repeatedly.

With a cry and a harsh tug on your best friends hair, you came undone in the most earth-shattering way - never in your eighteen years had you felt like this, had never felt so safe and taken care of as you did with your best friends face pressed deep in between your legs, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing he was doing on this earth.

A long, drawn out moan could be heard as Bob continued to lick you through your orgasm, seemingly reaching his own high at the same time you did as his hips stuttered and jerked against the mattress. 

“How was that, honey?” Bob murmured as he kissed and licked your inner thighs clean, languidly letting his tongue roam over your core, seemingly not having gotten enough of you. A soft whine fell from your lips as you squirmed a little, feeling sensitive after having cum so hard. Rob chuckled softly before placing a kiss to your pussy, and resting his head against one of your thighs, his hand still held yours as he removed his glasses, placing them beside the two of you. He had his eyes closed, positioning your legs comfortably around his form, his other hand splaying on your lower abdomen under your shirt. 

As his breathing evened out, so did yours. You stayed that way most of the night, before you woke up as the sun rose to illuminate your room, and you moved to close the drapes and go to the bathroom, to wash away the traces of Bob’s love. 

“Oh god…” Bob groaned as you finished telling the story. Smiling, you placed a soft kiss on his lips “It’s still the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you confessed with a shrug, as your best friend wrapped his arms tighter around you with a groan. 

“Fuck, don’t tell me that Sunny… you’re drivin’ me wild… y’mean to tell me I’ve known my whole life what you taste like? What those soft little sighs, moans and whimpers sound like? The ones I’ve dreamt off as I’ve laid in my damn bunk missing you?” you could only laugh softly under your breath “M’afraid so, honey,” you stroked the back of your hand against his cheek. 

“Would I ever be allowed that privilege again, baby?” Bob purred against your ear, nibbling softly at the lobe before placing a chaste kiss just beneath it. 

“Oh, I definitely think that can be arranged…” you smirked, gently taking your bottom lip between your teeth as Bob again rolled the two of you so you were on top of him. 

“Excellent, darlin’... but this time, I want you on top…”