#robert floyd fanfiction

[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!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 3 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna finally agrees to meet her new friends at the bar, she learns pretty quickly that the hot guy from the bookstore is actually Bob Floyd. But the fact that she ran and hid from him, thinking she'd never have to see him again, leaves her feeling mortified, and Bob is left to draw his own conclusions.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna took a deep breath as she swiped on some mascara and found her tube of lipgloss. She finally caved and agreed to go to the Navy bar that her friends couldn't stop talking about at lunch every day. She only had about five dollars in her wallet to buy a drink since she sold her car for rent money. She couldn't believe was going to take an Uber all the way to Coronado just to make an absolute fool of herself in front of this Bob character. And worst of all, she was still thinking about the hot guy with glasses from the bookstore. 

"It's okay," she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "At least you're absolutely killing it at work. And you're having a good hair day." She dabbed at her lips, but skipped the concealer. Kevin used to love it when she covered up her freckles which made her never want to do it ever again. Every time she thought about him, her heart skipped a beat, but not in the fun way.

She counted to five and said, "Kevin isn't here." Then she put her makeup away and made sure her computer was plugged in so she could mess around online when she inevitably returned to her miniscule apartment within the next hour and a half. "Let's get this show on the road," she muttered. 

The ride to the bar was uneventful, as she was sure the rest of her evening would be as well. Bob sounded like an absolute dream when Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics talked about him. Anna couldn't imagine him being outright rude to her after the two of them said he was sweet and had perfect manners, but she could already tell what his reaction would be: a kind but forced laugh, and maybe a halfhearted smile. And then Anna would probably get to watch him pick up a different girl instead if she didn't leave right away with her proverbial tail between her legs. 

Maybe she should have stayed home.

"Here we are," the driver said as he pulled into a beachside parking lot as the sun started setting over the ocean. "The Hard Deck."

"That was quick," she murmured, wishing she could stay in the solitude of this backseat a bit longer as she climbed out. "Thanks."

The fact that every day in San Diego was warm and beautiful was going to take some getting used to. The weather almost never wavered here unlike back at home. Anna opened the weather app on her phone and scrolled to her saved location in New Jersey, and sure enough, it was raining there. She nibbled on her lip and checked her work email, dragging the toe of her beat up sneaker on the gavel parking lot. 

She was just stalling now, wondering if her friends would even notice if she didn't show up. They just met her two weeks ago; they probably didn't even really like her that much. Her thumb hovered over her rideshare app as she thought about the two other women just going about their business like normal if she never went back to the weird tree at lunchtime. She was inconsequential to their day.

Anna pressed her lips together and tapped the app. There was a car two minutes away, but the guilt of having wasted eighteen dollars to come here in the first place was eating away at her mind. "Damn it," she whispered as she closed out of the app and shoved her phone into the pocket of her snug jeans. She started walking up to the sand covered wood planks that led to the entrance of the bar, and she didn't stop until she was inside. 

Slow Ride was blaring from the sound system, and the place was pretty packed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust so she could get the lay of the land, and when she did, she realized she was surrounded by mostly men. "Great," she mumbled, earning a few looks, probably because she had barely taken a step beyond the entryway before freezing up. 

But as Anna made her way closer to the bar, a big guy in a khaki uniform winked at her and called out, "Hey, Red!"

She felt her cheeks warm up which was certainly not going to help with that nickname. "Oh no." Deftly, she squeezed her way through the many bodies until she had one hand resting on the bar. Why were all these men so attractive? And why were they looking at her? 

When a different guy next to her turned and saw her, he stuck out his hand and said, "Hey, I'm Jackson."

"Anna," she replied, slipping her smaller hand into his very briefly before trying to take a step back. But she just ended up bumping into someone else. 

"You gotta let me buy you a drink," Jackson told her with a grin. "Seriously. You're already the best part of my night."

Anna swallowed as she looked around for her friends, but she didn't see either of them. "Um... not yet. I'm not a big drinker."

Jackson laughed merrily. "Aww, honey. You came to the wrong place. Hey, Penny!" Anna watched the bartender turn around with her hands full of two martini glasses. "Can you get this one anything she wants on my tab?"

Penny laughed, and said, "You'll have to get in line, Jackson. You're number four on her roster already."

"Damn it!" Jackson complained with a laugh.

Anna's eyes went wide as Penny delivered the two drinks and then came back and leaned on the bar right in front of her. "By the looks of things, you won't have to pay for a single drink all night. So what'll it be?"

Penny had friendly looking eyes that made Anna feel a little more comfortable. "A ginger ale?"

"Coming right up," Penny replied, reaching for a pint glass and the soda dispenser gun without looking away. "I've never seen you in here before, so I feel like it's only fair to warn you that these guys can get a little relentless."

That was literally the last thing Anna wanted to hear right now. Even Jackson hadn't moved an inch away from her, and her hands were starting to sweat as the ginger ale came gliding across the bar. When she wrapped her hand around the cold glass, she told Penny, "I'm actually supposed to meet some friends here. But I don't see them?"

She smiled and said, "Give me a name."

Anna looked down into the bubbles of her drink and muttered, "Jessica Reed?"

The response was immediate but kind. "By the pool table. Where she always is. Oh, and do not challenge her to a game, because she will kick your ass."

Anna laughed as she picked up her drink. "Thank you so much. And um... could you thank whomever paid for my ginger ale?"

Penny nodded as Anna started to head for the pool table. Jackson pouted at her, and the big guy in the uniform called out, "Come back, Red!" She ignored both of them as she fought her way through the crowd, desperately trying not to spill her drink on anyone. There were a lot more khaki uniforms and even some one piece jumpsuit type things that had patches sewn onto them. She read a few of the patches as she got closer to the pool table. Harvard. Omaha. Halo. Those were some weird names. 

"There she is. Anna!" 

She turned her head when she heard her name, and she saw Jessica waving one hand in the air as she juggled a beer and a pool cue in the other. Jessica actually looked happy to see her as she stood there, all wrapped up in the arms of a guy that Anna couldn't fully see yet. And then her other friend was waving both hands in the air, too, so she waved back. "Hi."

Both women squealed, "Hi, Anna!" in unison, and it was honestly one of the nicest sounds Anna had heard in recent memory. She already felt better about being here now, and that's when she caught sight of who she assumed was Jake. And she was momentarily struck dumb. 

The blonde man kissed the side of Jessica's neck and whispered something before releasing her, and then his green eyes met Anna's as he smiled. She decided immediately that he looked like a GQ model, and that was actually pretty fitting for what would pair well with Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said, reaching for her hand and pulling her closer. "This is my boyfriend, Jake." She gestured over her shoulder to the GQ model who reached his hand out.

"Hi, Anna," he said with a southern drawl. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh. Same," she replied, biting her tongue before she told him she'd never heard of a man who was sweet enough to pack his girlfriend fancy sandwiches and also had the nerve to look like he belonged on a magazine cover.

"And that's Bradley," Jessica said mildly. 

"My god," she whispered to herself. Her other friend was wrapped up in a pair of thick arms that belonged to a man with a mustache and alluring scars that ran along his left cheek and down the side of his neck into his floral shirt collar. He was every bit as good looking as Jake, but he had dark hair and eyes and looked decidedly a little bit rougher around the edges. 

She blushed as she remembered the comment about how he and his wife liked to use math as foreplay in the bedroom. Right now, he kept pulling his wife closer for another hug and kiss while she playfully tried to escape his grasp, and Anna had to look away, because a flash of jealousy hit her like a brick. 

"Hey, Anna," came Bradley's gravelly voice as he finally released his wife, and she shook his hand as well. "Sugar told me you're from New Jersey."

Sugar? Anna was definitely beat red in the face now. "That's right."

He laughed and reached out again for a fist bump. "Way better than all these west coast losers," he said over his shoulder, earning a middle finger from another seriously good looking guy.

"Stop trying to make her think you're cool, Beer Boy," his wife told him with an eye roll before he turned away to talk to the other guy. 

The problem was, Anna already thought they were all devastatingly cool, and now she was standing here like an awkward fifth wheel. "Do you want a beer?" Jessica asked with a smile. "They have Sam Adams."

Anna didn't want to tell her about the scant five dollars in her pocket, and she also didn't want to have to thank one of the random guys who told Penny they wanted to buy her a drink, so she just shook her head. 

Then her other friend said, "Well Bob is up at the bar right now. You just missed him, actually." She was smirking as she added, "He's probably getting himself a ginger ale, but if you want a beer or something else, he'd be happy to get it for you."

She made like she was about to call out his name when Jessica said, "Bob also likes ginger ale. And the bookstore in North Park."

Anna met her eyes before turning and craning her neck. "He does?" she asked softly, thinking about those pretty eyes and wire rimmed glasses and the smell of tea leaves. And then she saw him. He was here! "Oh," she gasped. He was Bob?

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

"Thanks, Penny," Bob said as he accepted his drink. Two of the guys at the bar were talking about a cute redhead, and all he could think about was the girl from the bookshop who decided after probably four minutes and seventeen seconds that she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He wanted to look around for this mysterious, new redhead, because if he was being honest, that was something he really thought was pretty, but what was the point? She was probably already over trying to talk to Bradley or Jake or Mickey.

Yesterday, Bradley told him to start wearing his uniform to the bar if he wanted more girls to talk to him, but Bob wasn't that desperate. He still had this fantasy where he met the girl of his dreams kind of organically. But maybe wearing a Dungeons & Dragons shirt wasn't the best thing he could have paired with his jeans tonight. Jake took one look at it thirty minutes ago and told him to go home and change into something else.

"Your girlfriend likes it," Bob had told him with a smirk, and sure enough a minute later Jessica was making a fuss over it.

But now he was making his way back to the pool table where the two couples were most likely on the verge of being indecent. Seriously, if Bob had to watch Bradshaw's hands all over his wife's rear end for one more minute, he was going to scream. 

Then he saw her, and he nearly dropped his glass of ginger ale on the floor. It was the girl from the North Park bookstore. Red hair, brown eyes, freckles, kissable lips. She was looking back at him in disbelief. 

Oh my god. He was hallucinating. He must be. Jessica was talking to the redhead who wasn't paying an ounce of attention to her, because she was focused on Bob. Her lips curled into a smile, and he thought he'd better make sure. When he glanced to his left and then his right, he didn't see anyone else who could be on the receiving end of that smile besides him. 

"Bob!" called Bradshaw's wife. "Come meet Anna!"

Anna. That was the name of their new friend from the university. They talked about her all the time even though they just met her. They told him he would like her. But this was the girl who wanted that horrible Vonnegut book last weekend. This was the girl Mickey thought he imagined.

Apparently he hadn't stopped walking, because now he was right in front of the three women, and he had three pairs of wide eyes trained on his face. "I remember you," he said softly. "From the classics section." Her lips parted softly, and her pupils went wide as Bob asked, "Are you Anna?"

She nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink beneath her freckles. He almost groaned, because she was so much cuter in person than what his memory supplied. Nothing about her was flashy, which he almost preferred, but there was no way she wasn't the hot girl that those guys at the bar were talking about. 

"I am," she replied. "And you're Bob?"

He glanced at the other two women, wondering what exactly they told her about him. They looked like they were both holding their breath as he held out his hand and said, "I'm Bob Floyd. It's nice to meet you. Again."

"I'm Anna Webber." She bit her lip, a look of embarrassment overtaking her features as she shook his hand gently. Then he remembered that she ditched him last weekend, leaving nothing but the book he'd already devoured in her place like some sort of parting gift. He released her hand abruptly and cleared his throat.

Now she looked a little hurt, but he didn't know what to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves getting worse by the second as the other two women practically vibrated with excitement on either side of Anna. "Uh, thanks for that book recommendation. I loved it," he said, barely meeting Anna's pretty eyes.

She gasped and asked, "You read it? You actually read it?"

Bob was trying to formulate another coherent response, but the urge to walk out of the bar was very strong. He was already embarrassed right now, and then he heard Mickey's voice as his friend walked over. "Holy shit, she does have red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey seemed to capture Anna's attention for the time being which really grated on Bob's nerves. Nat would never do this to him, and he couldn't wait until she got home from being deployed. Then Bradshaw's wife was in his personal space along with Jessica. "So she was the girl? From the store in North Park?" she whispered, squeezing his hand.

"The one you had instant chemistry with?" Jessica added hopefully. 

Bob swallowed hard. "Yeah," he murmured. "It was Anna. But the two of you need to knock it off now, because it's probably not going to happen. There's just something about me that doesn't translate well. She kind of ditched me at the bookstore."

"What do you mean?" Jessica practically shrieked, and Bob had to hush her. "You're perfect for each other!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, letting his awkwardness wash over him. "I don't know, Jess."

When he opened his eyes again, Anna was looking at him while she talked to Mickey, and Bob knew it would take even longer to get over the mystery woman now.

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

Anna couldn't believe Bob was the mystery man from the bookstore. Their chance meeting read like a piece of poetry that had no business being in her life, but the fact that she was meeting him for the second time felt something like fate. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. 

He was so handsome, just like Jake and Bradley. Now Anna was wondering what they fed these men in the Navy, because Mickey was very good looking as well. But the more she spoke to him, the more irritated Bob seemed. And she didn't like how his brow was pinching above his glasses. Not compared to the way he'd looked at her in the bookstore. 

Her mind was a mess right now. And then she remembered that she actually ran and hid from Bob last time she saw him. She started to panic and look around, silently coming up with an escape route, but it was too late. 

"Let's play pool?" Jessica asked a bit cautiously, and that was when Anna fully pieced it all together. Her new friends from work were going to think she wasn't attracted to Bob, but that couldn't have been further from the truth right now. Frankly she didn't know what she should do, so she followed everyone over to the pool table.

Well, everyone except for Bob. He remained at the bar alone, and she couldn't really blame him for not wanting to talk to her after the stunt she pulled in the bookstore. But she was only trying to protect herself. Maybe she could explain that to him. 

She was trying to decide if she would have hid from the most attractive man who had given her the time of day in years if she knew it was actually Bob. That's when she set down her empty glass of ginger ale because she was being handed a pool cue and told to team up with Bradley. She went through the motions, playing as well as she could while she chatted with everyone, but she found herself hoping to catch Bob's pretty eyes looking at her. Once she lost and handed the cue to Jessica, she saw him heading her way, and he had a glass of ginger ale in each hand.  

"Anna," he said softly in that voice that left her shivering. She took the drink he offered her and tried to act normal, but she was still so startled by what he said earlier. 

"Did you really read A Room with a View?" she asked quickly before she lost the nerve.

Bob smiled softly and met her eyes briefly before glancing at the floor. "Every word of it."

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Kevin never once read any of the novels she suggested for him, preferring modern horror monstrosities instead. And then he went and actually turned her life into a horrific monstrosity which she should have probably seen coming. But right here in front of her was Bob who she had actually already met and formed a pitiful crush on, and she couldn't bring herself to say more than, "I'm happy you read it."

He was blushing now as he sipped his own ginger ale before saying, "Yeah, it was great. I wouldn't mind some more of your book recommendations, honestly. As long as you don't try to get me to read that Vonnegut."

"Cat's Cradle," she said with a laugh that had his gaze snapping back up to hers. His eyes were hopeful as she smiled at him, but she rubbed her hand along her forehead and said, "I'm sorry I... vanished. The other day."

"What happened? I told Mickey I needed a minute, and you were just gone."

She wanted to be honest with him, but she didn't know how to explain herself. And now she was starting to feel like she and Bob were in a fishbowl; so many pairs of eyes were looking their way with next to no subtlety. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid his question. "Have you read any Jane Austen?"

He looked a bit disappointed by her response, but he said, "I have not."

"I think you'd enjoy Persuasion. Or Northanger Abbey. What about Virginia Woolf?"

Bob shook his head. "I feel like I'm about to embarrass myself again like I did last weekend at the bookstore, but no, I haven't read either."

Anna practically moaned at his bashful expression and pink cheeks. He smelled so good, it was unbelievable. Why did she feel so drawn to him? Why couldn't she stop herself from taking a step closer when he muttered, "As soon as you said you knew what Cat's Cradle was about, I figured I was in way over my head. The classics kind of elude me. I'm actually more of a poetry buff."

"Poetry?" she gasped, heart pounding at an overwhelming rate as he swirled his glass of ginger ale around with nonchalance. As if he hadn't just said the sexiest thing any man had ever told her. 

"Are the two of you just going to stand here and play footsie all night?"

Anna looked up to see Jake with a smirk on his face right in front of her. She didn't even notice anyone else in her vicinity before he spoke. Bob was shaking his head and already taking a step away from her when she asked, "Do you want me to text you some more recommendations?"

Bob froze and turned to look at her with a soft smile. "That'd be great." When she handed him her unlocked phone, he quickly added his number before handing it back to her. His calloused fingers felt even more exhilarating this time, which was very bad, because she'd already been thinking about the way he accidentally touched her at the bookstore on repeat.

"I'll send you some of my ideas," she muttered, pocketing her phone again before allowing Jake to pull her away toward the pool table again. She tried her best not to let her attention return to Bob over and over again, but she mostly failed. Sure enough, after a while, she saw another woman break the perimeter of the pool table and make a beeline toward Bradley before eventually turning toward Bob. 

She was really pretty with shiny brown hair, and it made Anna uncomfortable when she touched Bob's arm. It wasn't fair. He was so lovely and soft spoken and handsome. He was even wearing a shirt Kevin would have never been caught dead in, but it made Anna smile. In another version of her life, she would have gone for it tonight. Instead she got to watch the brunette woman hand him her phone just like she'd done a few minutes prior. 

"It's pretty late," she said suddenly even though she had no idea what time it actually was. "I'm going to head out."

Advanced Calculus and Advanced Physics both looked a little alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," she said, setting down her ginger ale and trying to skirt past Bob and the unknown woman. She gave both of her friends a quick hug and said, "I have a lot to prepare for my upcoming classes this weekend."

"Let me walk you to your car," Bob replied immediately, slipping away from the brunette to be closer to Anna. "Maybe you can give me the titles of the Jane Austen books again?" His cheeks were flushed, and the other woman looked annoyed now which did make Anna smile.

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," she repeated for him as she started to walk past the bar sending a wave in the direction of the pool table. Bob was following her now as she added, "And I don't have a car, so there's nothing to walk me to."

"Persuasion and Northanger Abbey," he repeated softly to himself. "Will you let me drive you home then?" he asked hopefully. "All I had to drink was ginger ale."

Anna let herself look up at him before she shook her head. "I'll get an Uber, but thanks for offering. It was nice to meet you. Again."

"It sure was," he agreed as he continued to follow her all the way to the door.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she noticed the dark haired woman on her tiptoes looking around for Bob. "Your brunette friend is looking for you," Anna said softly before slipping outside into the cool night air and opening the rideshare app on her phone. Bob didn't follow her any further, and she rode home with disappointment and sadness thrumming through her body. She was out of cheap wine, but at least she had her favorite poetry website to keep her company.

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

Bob groaned as he nudged his glasses up his nose and pressed his fingertips to his eyes until he was seeing stars. "But I like redheads," he moaned to himself. He could not believe it. He really just couldn't get over the fact that tonight of all nights some random woman started to chat him up. Anna could barely look at him to begin with, but now he'd be damn lucky if she actually texted him the book recommendations at all. 

His dream girl was Anna. Anna was the perfect woman he met at the bookstore. Anna was the one he'd been thinking about nonstop, but now he had confirmation that she wasn't into him. That's why she vanished last weekend. That's why she gave him the cold shoulder tonight when he was practically tripping over himself at the sight of her. She was perfect. He was just hopeless. He could keep thinking about her, but what was the point? Now that he knew she worked with his friends, he had to stop this crush in its tracks and try to save face.

"There you are, Robby." A hand snaked around his side to his abs, and he almost jumped a foot in the air. He hated being called that, and he hated that Anna saw this woman talking to him. 

"Hi," he said cautiously, taking a step away from her. 

"Is the redhead your girlfriend?" she asked, clearly annoyed now.

Bob sighed and said, "I wish."

She rolled her eyes and vanished back into the crowd, leaving him alone again. He never imagined he'd have such an eventful night involving the fairer sex. "Damn it," he whispered as he made his way back toward the pool table to his friends. 

"There he is!" Bradley called out with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Big ol' Bob! Did you just give your phone number to not one but two women?"

His wife and Jessica both looked mad now. "I thought you liked Anna," Jessica snapped. "Once we realized she was the redhead from the bookstore, we thought you'd probably end up sneaking off with her or something."

Bob could feel the heat rising in his face. "Come on," he replied, giving Jessica a look. "There's no way that would have happened. And I didn't give that other woman my number. I didn't even want to talk to her." In a softer voice, he added, "She just started touching me for no reason."

Bradley's wife pulled Bob in for a quick hug as she said, "Pretty soon, you'll be as good at dodging them as Bradley is." She looked him in the eye and quietly asked, "Now what happened with Anna?"

"I don't really know." That was his honest answer. "I was excited to see her again. I guess I imagined she vanished in the bookstore like some sort of romanticized Cinderella fairytale or something stupid when in reality she just... kind of got tired of talking to me. She seemed a little uncomfortable when she saw me again tonight, so that must be it."

"I think you're wrong," she said with conviction that almost made Bob believe it himself. "Jess and I will ask her about it next week."

"Please don't," he groaned, shaking his head. "I'm going to go home. See you at D&D tomorrow," he told Jessica before stopping by the bar to pay for the ginger ales, but Penny just waved him on. He left her a ten dollar tip and walked out to his truck. 

It wasn't even that late, and when he parked in front of his duplex, his elderly next door neighbor was still awake with her door propped open for her cat to come back inside. As Bob trudged up the shared walkway with his key in hand, she called out, "Robert! Is that you?"

"Hi, Suzanne," he replied with a laugh. "It's me."

She was sitting on her couch, and he could hear game show reruns playing as she loudly said, "You're home pretty early for a Friday night. Still haven't found a girlfriend?"

Bob groaned. He could kick himself for even mentioning that he wished he had a girlfriend a few weeks ago when he took dinner over for her one Sunday evening. "Still single," he confirmed as he headed for his front door which was all of ten feet away from hers. 

She scoffed, and Bob saw her massive cat, Sylvester, streak back inside. "You must not be trying very hard, Robert. Handsome, strong thing like you."

It was like arguing with his grandma, so he just avoided it completely. "Okay, I saw Sylvester run inside, so I'm going to close your front door. Make sure you lock it before you go to sleep. Good night, Suzanne."

He pulled her door closed for her and then unlocked his, and he walked inside to find his copy of A Room with a View sitting on the coffee table. It seemed to be taunting him like it knew he'd seen the adorable redhead again. And struck out a second time. He was confused and hurt and annoyed, and he just wanted to go to bed and pretend like he wasn't as hopeless as he felt. 

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

These babes need to get themselves straightened out! Anna, he thinks you're not into him! Bob, she's scared to admit she is! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[withahappyrefrain]

Full of Surprises

Summary: You learn some surprising things about Bob at the end of a date.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), subtle Dom/sub tones, Bob being pussy drunk, language, takes place before TGM

Robert Floyd was, without a doubt, the sweetest man you had ever met.

He refused to let you open the door, whether it be to restaurants or the car. He insisted on walking on the outer section of the sidewalk, closest to the streets. He came into your classroom after school to help you with laminating and cutting out math games for your students.

When he gently kissed you goodnight, his hands would softly cup your neck, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking your jawline, nose brushing against yours.

It was a gentleness that you didn’t think still existed. You certainly didn't expect to find it in Lemoore of all places.

But sometimes your Robby was considerate almost to a fault.

At the end of the first date, you invited him in for coffee. Your hope was that he would feel more comfortable kissing you if you were inside and not out in the hallway of your apartment.

But Bob just gave you that endearing, slightly crooked smile as he shook his head. "If I drink coffee now, I'll be up all night," he told you.

You couldn't even be mad because you knew he was being genuine. It also helped that he asked when he could see you next immediately after.

On the second date, you stood on the tips of your toes so you could kiss his cheek. The sight of his glasses fogging up, combined with his face turning bright red melted your heart. You had hoped the action would be enough for him to realize you wanted him.

Instead, he kissed your cheek while he stammered out his question of when he would get to see you again. It was such a sweet sight that you couldn't be mad, though disappointment still ran through your body when you walked into your apartment by yourself.

By the fourth date, you had enough of quick pecks on the cheeks, and opted to grab Bob by the collar, pulling his lips onto yours. He was a great kisser, once he got over the initial shock of your action and his brain fully processed what was happening.

Kissing you back made things simultaneously better and worse. The way he would cup your face, gently tilting your head up to deepen the kiss still made your head dizzy. Goosebumps flared your skin when you thought about how it felt when one of his large hands was firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You wanted him to take you against that door right then and there.

But Robby was a gentleman so all he did was kiss you. Which left you no choice but to shove a hand in between your legs later on that night as you imagined how his hands would feel on other parts of your body.

You wouldn’t call yourself a horndog, but the WSO made it really difficult to think straight when he would casually put his hand on your knee, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your thigh.

So here you were, towards the end of your seventh date with Bob, who was walking you back to your apartment.

You had been trying to send him less subtle messages this time. You wore a sundress, hoping the exposed skin might provoke him to be more daring.

He definitely tried to get glimpses of your chest. But every time you looked at him, he'd just blush and stammer how pretty you looked tonight. Which while sweet, did nothing to soothe the ache between your legs.

Bob's breath would hitch everytime you pressed your body against his. A faint scarlet flush had crept up his neck to his face as soon as he saw you in that dress and it had stayed there for the whole date.

"I had fun tonight," you told him as your fingers grazed over the collar of his shirt. Briefly, your fingers brushed against the skin underneath.

"I did too. Always do when I'm with ya," He said, the drawl you adored coming out. Bob could read the phone book to you and you swear you'd be enthralled.

Your touch was electric. Bob tried to focus on those bright beautiful eyes of yours, but he couldn't help but wander to your full lips. He tried looking away in an attempt to be respectful, but his eyes instead turned to the straps of your dress, tied together by a soft, velvet fabric. If he undid those knots, the dress would fall down, revealing your-

He had to get out of here.

Bob was crazy about you -in fact- he was ninety-five percent sure he wanted to marry you. Therefore, the last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong and scare you away, or worse, disrespect you.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw him beginning to take a step back.

No. Not tonight.

You stepped forward, your eyes straight on him. You made your way towards Bob with such focus and precision, it caught him off guard (a huge feat considering his job). It was how you were able to press your lips against his.

His kisses were sweet yet intoxicating, like honeyed wine on a summer afternoon. Normally you weren't one to overindulge, but tonight, you wanted all of him.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, gripping onto his dark blonde locks in a desperate attempt to keep his lips pressed to yours. The action caused you to lightly tug onto his hair. What could best be described as a soft moan fell from Bob's lips.

Your eyes opened, shocked that such an erotic noise came from the man you were kissing.

It also sent heat straight to your core.

Bob's bright blue eyes flew open, realizing that the noise he had prayed was just in his head, actually came out of his mouth.

He broke away, his neck and face bright red. You were positive if you undid the first three buttons of his shirt, his chest would be red too.

"I-I should go-"

"Don't you fucking dare." You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. With great care, you took several steps backwards, pulling him in so you were both inside your apartment.

It was your display of how desperate you were for him that made Bob realize that perhaps he didn't have to go home and get himself off tonight with his hand.

That was what gave him the confidence to keep his lips pressed to yours. You closed the door (locking it without looking was much harder than you originally thought), your hands returning to his soft hair.

You pushed him towards the couch. Bob, finally getting the message, sat down, spreading his long legs.

His lips were gone from yours for only a minute, as you quickly straddled his waist, your thighs on the outer side of his.

Everything about him was addicting. The scent of sage flooded your nostrils. His jeans felt rough on your bare thighs, creating fiction when you shifted forwards.

Bob used his hands to tilt your head back, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hands were everywhere now- his hair, his shoulders, his chest.

It felt like you couldn't get close to him, despite being literally on top of the WSO. His hands found themselves on your hips, gripping the fabric of your dress, causing the hem to rise further up your thighs.

You leaned your whole body forward, your hips grinding downward. The movement, combined with the friction your clothed core received from his jeans was absolute heaven. Before you could even think, a desperate mo an fell from your lips as your hips repeated the action again.

Bob snaked a hand up your neck, grabbing onto the ponytail your hair was done up in. A sharp tug pulled you back, forcing you to face him.

His normally well-kept hair was ruffled, a loose curl falling over his forehead. A prominent red flush had overtaken his face, his lips glistening from the sloppy kisses you were just exchanging. Glasses askew, those deep blue eyes were so overblown, they looked near black.

It was the hottest sight you had ever seen.

"What do you want? Tell me." His voice was deep, gruff. You were surprised with how commanding he was as he demanded an answer from you.

Bob tightened the grip he had in your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, "C'mon darlin', tell me what ya need."

"You, Robby. I want you."

Sweet Jesus, you were going to be the death of him.

The next thing you knew, Bob's arms were wrapped around your waist and you were no longer on the couch. You were no longer on the ground, the bespectacled lieutenant holding you.

"Where's your bedroom? I'm doing this properly, not on a couch."

Despite your head spinning and your whole body flushed with heat, you managed to explain that your bedroom was down the hall and to the left.

He followed your directions with precision, or at least he tried to. Your lips had found their way to his neck, peppering the skin with kisses.

It was when your teeth sank into that sweet spot, right underneath his jawline, that he stopped in the hallway, a guttural groan falling from his lips as it took everything in Bob to not come in his pants right then and there.

Your back was now pressed against the cool wall. As his lips attached themselves to your neck, you couldn't help but throw your head back, gasps falling from your lips as his teeth grazed your hot, sensitive skin.

His mouth moved down to your collarbone and the tops of your breasts. His teeth were sinking into your flesh now, sure to leave marks that would be visible by tomorrow morning.

"Tryin' to be a gentleman and you make it so fuckin' hard with that mouth of yours. Can't even get ya to a bed so I can take ya properly." You moaned at his words, it being the first time you had heard Bob curse. His accent was thicker, his words sending heat all over your body, but particularly the spot in between your legs.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you do that," he said before his tongue lapped over a bite mark he had left on your neck.

"R-Robby, b-bed," you whimpered, your hips frantically bucking up in a desperate attempt to feel some friction.

Somehow, someway, the two of you made it into your bedroom. The back of your head softly touched your pillow, your body now splayed on your bed. You looked up, your eyes meeting those sapphire blues of Bob's as he hovered over you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He chuckled.

The neat ponytail you had out your hair in at the beginning of the night was barely holding things together, fallen pieces framing your sweet face. Your lip gloss was now smeared, thanks to him. He could see the bite marks he had left along your neck and collarbone.

You looked good, marked up as his.

One of the ribbons tied as a strap of your dress had loosen, causing the fabric to fall a bit from your chest, exposing your breasts even more. The hem of your dress had bunched up towards your hips, exposing the lacey soft blue panties that Bob definitely saw earlier in the evening when you bent over to pick something up and he hadn't been able to get the sight out of his head until now.

Now he had the whole view.

Your head was spinning. You hadn't expected this side from Bob. Quite honestly, you had prepared yourself that if things ever got physical between you two, you would be taking the reins.

You were wrong. Oh so very wrong. You had never been happier to be more wrong in your life.

"C-can I taste you?" His voice was soft, despite his hands gripping your thighs. He looked unsure, almost worried that somehow, he would go too far if he didn't ask.

It made your heart melt. It also made you want to give this man as many children as he wanted.

You nodded your head, "P-please Robby. Want your mouth on me."

Bob groaned, "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear."

A giggle escaped your lips, though it was short lived as Bob's fingers quickly found the waistline of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs.

"Y-you're really pretty," He stammered upon seeing the sight of you laid out for him.

You smiled, a hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. Bob gave you that sweet, soft smile that made you melt, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

Because even though he had been dying to get his hands on you since your third date, he was never going to pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

The moment was sweet. You didn't realize how much you needed it until you felt the tension leave your body as his lips brushed against yours.

Bob broke away, giving you that sweet, slightly crooked smile before situating himself between your legs.

You opened your mouth, ready to give more words of encouragement to make him feel comfortable.

That wasn't necessary, as Bob planted his face in between your thighs with zero hesitation.

A curse fell from your lips, not that you could help it. That was impossible with how his tongue felt, licking stripes from your entrance to your clit.

Bob's mouth continued to surprise you tonight. First by showing he actually knew how to curse. Second (and more importantly), his mouth was very talented.

Upon his tongue lapping at your entrance, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit, your hands latched onto his sun kissed hair.

You tasted fucking divine and somewhere, in the back of Bob's brain, he was wondering if you'd prefer an engagement ring with a gold band or silver band.

But then you tugged on his hair as you continued to let out another pretty moan. Thoughts of ring bands left his head as his lips attached themselves to your clit, alternating between sucking and kitten kicks.

You gasped upon feeling a thick finger enter you. You looked down, your eyes meeting Bob's.

What a sight that was. His lips still latched onto your clit, but stilled. Those beautiful blue eyes on you, watching, waiting for your next movement to help him decide what to do next.

"Please don't stop Robby."

"You know what that does, callin' me that. Don't ya?" The smirk forming on his face was new to you. It reeked of confidence, something you loved to see.

Your grin said it all.

Which is why Bob didn't feel bad when he added a second finger to you. In fact, that's why he smirked upon seeing your back arch as you fell apart on his fingers and tongue.

It was ridiculous, truly ridiculous, how fast he was able to find that sweet spot that had you falling apart. His fingers felt so good you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your mouth.

Not that Bob minded. In fact, with the pretty sounds you were making, combined with your addicting taste, he couldn't help but grind his hips into the mattress, looking for some type of relief.

You saw the action (he wasn't trying to hide it) and it caused your hips to buck up towards his face because holy shit, how was this man real?

"You taste so good," He groaned into you, sending vibrations all the way up your spine.

"A-and you say m-my mouth is killer," you managed to grit out.

Bob chuckled, sending more vibrations throughout your body.

You felt a third finger thrust against your walls. The grip you had on his hair was so tight, you were surprised he hadn't complained about it (maybe he liked it, anything was fair game at this point).

His name fell from your lips over and over again, like a prayer. Not that there was anything holy about what his mouth and fingers were doing. As if he could sense the coil in your lower stomach tightening, he placed his other hand on your abdomen, applying pressure.

You lunged forward, as much as you could with your thighs wrapped around his head as the coil snapped. It hit you like a strong wave, causing you to come up and crash down over and over again.

His fingers and tongue kept working through your orgasm, prolonging your high. The lewd sounds of your wetness against his fingers filled your bedroom.

"Fuck you taste amazing," you heard him say, his hips frantically rutting into your mattress.

"C-can I keep going?" He asked, his fingers still curling up against that sweet spot.

You groaned at the sight of his chin and lips covered in your slit, hoping he could see you nodding enthusiastically despite his glasses having fallen further down the bridge of his nose.

Bob's mouth went right back to your soaked core, lapping up your slick. Every time his nose bumped against your sensitive clit, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body.

His fingers were meticulous, curling against that spot over and over again with precision. You didn't expect his skills as a WSO to transfer into the bedroom, but it made sense. He had to be focused, whether it was on other jets or (in this case) making you come again.

What didn't make sense was how the guy who was so quiet and shy that his glasses fogged up when you kissed him on the cheek was now making you see stars.

All it took was for you to look down, your half-closed eyes meeting those deep blue, for you to come undone again. This one felt more intense, most likely due to the groans Bob was pressing against your slicked core.

You threw your head back, eyes closing your eyes as you rode through your current orgasm. When was the last time someone had made you come twice by eating you out? Has that ever happened?

You attempted to catch your breath as your brain processed what just happened.

Robert Floyd may be shy, but not in the bedroom. A pretty important lesson.

You were also pretty sure it would be the biggest mistake to not marry this guy, but you could think about that later.

Upon feeling long fingers gently stroked your cheek, you opened your eyes to find Bob's face now inches away from yours.

"D-did…..did you enjoy that?" Bob asked, a faint red flush creeping from his neck to his face.

Nodding your head, you smiled, "I think it's time I return the favor."

"Oh you don't, I mean not that I don't want you to, it's just, I uh, I-I-" as Bob rambled you looked down, noticing the dark, wet-looking spot that had formed at the crotch of his jeans. Realization hit you, causing you to clench your thighs.

He came from eating you out.

Yup, you were marrying this man. You'd be the biggest idiot not to.

"S-sorry," Bob stammered, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

Using your elbows, you propped yourself up, "Hey. It's fine. It's actually more than fine, it's really fucking hot."

His eyes widened, his demeanor resembling more of the shy, nervous man you first met in the library on that fateful day.

A hand flew to the back of his neck, "I just, I meant it, you sound really pretty when you make those noises. Not that you don't sound pretty when you don't make them. You're always pretty and you do taste amazing, whatever diet you're on-not that you should change for me- what I meant-"

You giggled as your hands cupped Bob's face, pulling him in for a kiss. Partly to throw him a rope, but mostly because you couldn't believe this sweet man was all yours.

He shifted his weight, his chest now directly on yours, deepening the kiss. As his hands found themselves on your waist, a familiar ache began between your thighs.

"It's just a shame," you broke away from his lips, "I like to think I have a pretty talented mouth too and was hoping to show you."

Bob's eyes darkened, his breathing now heavy.

"Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be ready. Plus that's enough time to get you out of this dress," He said, his tone serious.

Robert Floyd was full of surprises. But was that so bad?

[hangmansgbaby]

Congratulations!!! 🥳

Can I get our good man Bob Floyd and "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

~@roosters-girl

This one is so self indulgent cause I’m this way!

Blanket Stealer

Summary: Bob sleeps over for the first time and learns a valuable lesson about stealing the blankets

Prompt: "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

Pairings: Bob Floyd x reader

Word count:<300

Masterlist | 300 Cele Masterlist

He warned you before you ever laid down for the night.

“I tend to pull on the blankets in my sleep so I am apologizing in advance.”

Bob Floyd is a blanket hog and you are getting the full effect of it right now.

You lay staring at the ceiling, cold with no blankets laying over you. You glance over at your boyfriend who lays comfortably under the sheets, warm. You groan as you once again tug the blankets back over, curling your arm around the corner to keep it tight.

Its minutes later that you feel the tug of Bob pulling the blanket back.

“If you steal the blankets again, I am going to put my cold feet on you.” You say allowed, knowing he was too asleep to hear it, and sure enough Bob tugs the blanks back over to his side. “Have it your way, Bobby.”

You turn to angle your feet towards him, slipping them under the blankets and placing them flat against his calves. You start counting.

“1… 2… 3…”

“Holy shit why are they so cold?!” Bob jolts up, pushing your feet away.

“You stole the blankets, I put my cold feet on you.” You glare at him as he sits up, pushing the blankets towards you.

“I’m sorry, Sweet Pea. I did tell you.”

“You’re buying me longer blankets, Robert Floyd, or your gonna learn to sleep closer to me at night.” You state, tugging half the blankets over yourself.

“I’ll cuddle you all night if that makes you feel better.” Bob laughs softly, scooting closer to her.

“It will actually.” You say, laying on your side away from him.

Bob scoots over, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Good night, Sweet Pea.” He whispers, kissing you cheek before falling asleep next to you.

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Divider Credit @cafekitsune

[lewmagoo]

someone to watch over me | bob floyd

description: in which a secret service agent is willing to go to great lengths to protect that which is most precious to him

warnings: 18+ only, mention of guns, assassination attempt, forbidden love, american political system (this is a warning in and of itself ok), brief mention of vomiting, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, slight possessiveness

characters: au bob floyd x afab!reader, dagger squad but make them secret service agents

dt: @bradshawsbitch because she listened to me scream about this idea incessantly <3

You’re safe.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your ribs and leap forth out of your chest. Your breathing was rushed, coming in quick bursts, panicked intakes as you tried to suck life-preserving oxygen into your lungs.

You’re safe.

You were safe. You knew you were. However, the events that had just happened moments prior still had you shaken, vibrating with terror. Tears had gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks, blurring your vision. 

You’re safe.

“I’m safe. No one can hurt me. I’m safe.” You kept repeating this chant, trying to convince yourself that it was true. But it was doing little to soothe the fear that was still surging through your veins, like a drug that had induced a bad trip.

There was only one thing that could calm you down. One person. But that person was on the other side of those secured doors, dealing with the situation that had risen. The situation that had put you in danger. 

You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. “Bobby!” And he was there in an instant, springing into action, throwing himself between you and the person who’d tried to get close to you. 

You were pushed back, sent into Bradley Bradshaw’s waiting arms as Reuben, Jake, and Bob intercepted the perpetrator. You knew you wouldn’t be able to see your Bobby, but that didn’t stop you from trying to search for him within the chaos.

“Keep your eyes ahead,” Bradley spoke in your ear. His arm was secured around your waist, his body protectively shielding your own. You were vaguely aware of Natasha and Mickey ahead of you, making sure the way was clear as you were ushered to the waiting car. 

You were practically thrown into the large black Escalade, and Bradley was right behind you, sliding into the seat beside you. You were buzzing with fright, hands trembling as you clutched at the edges of the leather seat. 

Your mind, however, was not on your own safety. It was on Bobby’s. Although you knew what a situation like this entailed, it was still a shock to your system to watch him spring into action. His sole job was to protect you, even if that meant laying down his own life to do so. 

But you didn’t want him to sacrifice his life for yours. You wanted him alive and in your arms. You wanted to hold him to your chest and run your fingers through his hair like you had done so many times before, pretending that his job wasn’t to keep you alive. Ignoring the cold, hard reality that there were evil people out there who would not hesitate to kill you if they had the chance.

Bob, and the rest of your security team, was there to see to it that no one had that chance. And up until now, you had experienced nothing more than threats. No one had ever physically tried to come after you. 

You had discussed what such an event would entail. You knew who would be at the front, handling the threat, and who would escort you out of harm’s way. Selfishly, you’d wanted Bob to be the one who wrapped his arm around you and pulled you away, only because you knew that was where he would be safest. The others could deal with taking the threat down, just as long as Bobby was by your side.

But it hadn’t worked out that way. 

Now here you were, unsure of his fate. You wouldn’t know until later on if he was okay or not. But he was all you could think about. You knew how foolish it was to ask about him, to give anyone an inclination that you were tangled up in a secret relationship with him.

You asked about him anyway. “Is Bobby okay?”

Bradley, who had just instructed Javy to step on it and take you back to the hotel where you were staying, gave you a long glance. You could see the way his jaw tensed. Bradley was no fool. He knew you and Bob had something going on. But he had never spoken of it to anyone. All it would take was one word, and Bob would lose his job. Bradley, however, was unwilling to be the one who helped send his friend’s career down the drain, no matter how foolish harboring such a secret was.

“He’s got it handled. Don’t worry about him,” he murmured. 

But you couldn’t help it. You wouldn’t stop worrying until he was back in your arms. Until then, you had no choice but to go along with what was taking place. So you remained beside Bradley, huddling in on yourself, arms folded over your chest.

Your mind replayed the situation as if someone kept hitting the rewind button. One moment, everything had been just fine. You had been attending an event, a gala to raise funds for a children’s charity.

The event was one you attended every year, as the cause was near and dear to your heart. It was one of the few things you felt like you could call your own. Your father was the leader of the free world. Everyone associated you with him. No one seemed to refer to you by your name. You were often called the President’s daughter. It made you feel like you had no identity outside of your father’s presence in the White House.  

Coming to events like these gave you a sense of purpose, and you loved meeting the families of children who had been positively impacted by this particular charity. 

And that was just what you were doing the night your life was threatened. You had warned your security team ahead of time that you wished to stop and speak to some of the families who stood along the rope line outside. 

Because you would be out in the open, your detail had been upped. Normally, you had Bob, Jake, Bradley, and Natasha around you at any given time. But tonight, the head of White House security, Pete Mitchell, had assigned a few others. 

But even with all those extra eyes, someone still managed to slip past the cracks. 

You were none the wiser to the fact that everything was about to be turned upside down. You had stopped to kneel down at a little girl’s level, because she tugged at your heartstrings and you simply couldn’t resist. 

Just behind that little girl’s family, a man was approaching. He didn’t appear out of the ordinary. In fact, he was holding a small baby, swaddled in blankets, in his arms. 

You’d stepped a little too far away for Bob’s liking. He was watching you like a hawk, as he always did. You’d slipped further down the rope line, prompting he and Jake to move closer toward you. 

The man holding the baby pushed through the crowd, and he opened his mouth to call your name, motioning to his child. You smiled warmly at him, prepared to greet him and ask for his name. 

But in the blink of an eye, faster than you could even register, he let that baby drop from his arms. You gasped in shock, but Bob had already clocked the situation before the man let the baby drop. Hidden beneath that bundle of blankets was…

“Gun!”

“Bobby!” You shrieked in terror, but he was on it, one hand drawing his own gun from its holster on his hip, while the other yanked you back harshly, right into Bradley, who whisked you away without a second thought. 

Now here you were, reeling in the backseat of a bulletproof car, wondering how someone could be so unhinged that they would draw a gun in the midst of children. The depravity sent nausea rushing through you, and suddenly, you were certain you were going to be sick. 

And you were. With a gasp, you lurched forward, unable to stop it as your body reacted. Beside you, Bradley was not surprised. He simply reached forward, pushing the fabric of your dress aside so you wouldn’t get anything on it. 

“I’m sorry!” You wailed as you straightened back up, wiping your mouth, just as tears began to slide down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, it happens,” he soothed, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit jacket, and handing it to you to wipe your mouth. 

Oh, how you wished it was Bobby beside you. He knew how to take care of you. He was familiar and gentle and attentive. Not that Bradley wasn’t those things, but that familiarity wasn’t there. He was simply part of your security detail, nothing more. Even so, you knew you were safe with him. Knew he’d sooner lay down his life than let anything happen to you.  

And in that moment, he did his best to comfort you, reassuring you when you fretted about the mess you’d made on the floor of the expensive car. “Trust me, it’s fine. I’ll get it taken care of,” he promised. “Right now let’s focus on getting you to safety.”

As the car pulled up outside of the back entrance of the hotel, Bradley was quick to usher you out. He kept you close, just as Natasha and Mickey flanked him as soon as they’d climbed out from their car that had followed behind yours. 

Within seconds, you were back in the safety of the hotel, ushered into the back service elevator that took you straight up to your floor. Bradley was quick to pull the key card out of his pocket, and you didn’t let out a breath until you were within the confines of your room. 

But that breath soon quickened, and you began pacing about like a cornered horse. You were vaguely aware of Natasha calling your name. But it didn’t register until she was standing before you, the gentle brown of her eyes meeting yours. 

“Hey,” she softly spoke, “you need a minute?”

“Y-yeah,” you croaked. 

“Okay.” Carefully, she guided you to the bathroom. “Take as long as you need. Bradley’s out here. Mick and I will be in the hall. Nobody comes in or out without our say-so.”

All you could manage was a nod before you turned and barricaded yourself in the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you clamped your hand over your mouth and sank down to the floor, stifling a sob. 

Moments like these made you wish you lived a normal life. Oh, how you longed for the mundane. Longed to feel safe, instead of having an enormous target on your back. 

You hadn’t asked for any of this. While you’d never voiced it to your father, you hated that he had taken this position. Why couldn’t he have taken a simple blue-collar job at a steel mill or a construction company? Instead, he’d gone for the highest office in the world. 

Sometimes, you felt like you got lost in the shuffle. You were expected to just go along with it. Keep up appearances. Behave the way a president’s daughter should. But you hated every moment of it. Your life would never be normal. Even after your father completed his term and moved on to other things. You would always need security. You would never be safe. 

You tried to take it in stride. You had to get used to the fact that this was just how life was. But that didn’t mean you loved it. 

The only solace in the midst of it all was your sweet Robert. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, but who could ever decide when and who they were going to fall in love with? It had simply happened. You’d felt the connection with him from the instant you met. 

And although you both tried to ignore your feelings for propriety’s sake, one thing had led to another and now you were so deeply in love that you didn’t know what to do with yourselves. 

But the knowledge that harm could have come to Bob while he was protecting you only brought on more tears. This was why it was foolish to get involved with him. You both knew it was. Knew how much it would hurt if the other was harmed. Knew how much it could cloud his judgment and prove to be a distraction while he tried to carry out one of the most high-profile jobs in America.

For Bob, his need to protect you had only increased tenfold since he’d realized just how intensely he cared for you. Sometimes, the lengths he was willing to go to scared him. 

He wasn’t a violent man by any means. In fact, he was rather passive. But he was very analytical and especially good at assessing threats. He was a chameleon, blending in as an innocent, unassuming guy. However, when push came to shove, he was a force to be reckoned with. Calm, methodical, but dangerous. Deadly, if he had to be. 

But to you, he was kind and sweet. In the beginning, he’d almost been shy. But you’d quickly learned that he was only reserved around certain people. Around you, he opened up and bared his soul to you, allowing you to reach into his chest, prying his very ribs apart and exposing his heart to you. 

Now that his heart was knitted with yours, he had something to lose. Everything to lose. And he’d be damned if he let you be taken from him. When he saw the man in the crowd coming toward you, everything happened in slow motion. 

His eyes had shot to Jake and Reuben, the trio wordlessly communicating as Bob threw you behind him. Protect her at any cost. That was all that went through his head. 

He had succeeded in that mission. You were now safe and sound, hidden away in the bathroom of your hotel room while he dealt with the aftermath. There was no question that your father would be demanding to know how anyone had managed to get that close to you. Bob could almost hear his outraged voice over the phone, “how in God’s name did you let him get that close?!” 

How had they let him get so close? The surrounding block had been cordoned off. How on earth had a man with a weapon managed to slip through the cracks? It was certain that an investigation would be enacted. The target had been neutralized, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have others working with him. 

Bob was mentally preparing himself to be put through the wringer. The whole team was going to be. But to him, it was all worth it, as long as he made it back to you. 

He was in for a long night, but after it was all said and done, he would slip into your room, curl into bed beside you, and hold you in his arms, knowing that it was all because of him and his team that you were unharmed. 

In the meantime, you were alone, trying to process what had happened. You felt so pathetic, huddled on the cold bathroom floor, crying your eyes out. But it was a reasonable reaction after all you’d just endured. 

You weren’t sure how long you spent on that uncomfortable floor, but it was long enough to cause numbness to creep down your legs from sitting in one spot for too long. 

It was then that you hauled yourself up from the floor and decided to take a shower. Washing the events of the evening down the drain seemed like the best course of action.  So that was exactly what you did. 

Twenty minutes and one fogged-up bathroom later, you were wrapping a plush towel around your body to dry off, before you slipped into one of the hotel robes, welcoming its warmth. 

Foolishly, you considered the idea that Bob would be waiting for you in your room, and for a split second, your heart quickened in your chest, hope warming your veins. 

But when you opened the door, all you were met with was an empty room. You let out a weary sigh and padded across the plush carpet, grabbing your phone off the charger, which seemed that Bradley had been kind enough to plug in for you. 

However, when the screen lit up, you realized that it had been inundated with notification after notification. Missed calls from your parents and other family members. Texts from friends. Social media notifications. 

Immediately, you found yourself overwhelmed. Your chest tightened, sending a jolt of anxiety through you. 

Knowing they would worry the most out of everyone, you sent a quick text to your parents. “I’m okay.” And then turned off the phone. You couldn’t handle it. You knew if you kept your notifications on you’d spiral into a panic attack. 

How you longed for Bobby to be with you, comforting you like only he knew how. But you wouldn’t soon get your way, so you resigned yourself to trudging over to the bed, collapsing onto the plush of the mattress. 

You had no more tears left to cry, so you simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Trying to think of something, anything other than what was taking place. 

Eventually, you climbed beneath the covers, huddled into their warmth, but sleep would not come. You tried watching television, but as you scrolled through the channel, new coverage of what had happened was plastered everywhere. 

With a growl of frustration, you turned off the TV and threw the remote, which bounced off the bed and landed on the floor. You couldn’t be bothered to pick it up. 

Hours passed, slowly dragging by as you tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, unable to rest. You didn’t want to be alone anymore. It was scary, because your mind kept wandering. 

Even though the rational part of you knew Bob was fine, and was just tied up in the situation at hand, your brain took you to the worst-case scenario. Maybe he had gotten hurt. Maybe the man who’d pulled a gun on you had managed to fire a shot and severely wound him, or worse?

The thought of your precious Bobby fighting for his life in a hospital bed sent a fresh wave of nausea through you, and in an instant, you were leaping out of bed. 

You had to know where he was. Had to know that he was okay. Had to ask someone, had to…

Suddenly, the sound of the door unlocking caught your attention, and you froze in the middle of the room. Seconds later, that door came open, and in walked Bob. Disheveled, exhausted, but all in one piece. 

He let the door slam shut behind him, and you both stood there for a beat, staring at one another, taking in the sight of the other. His hair was mussed, tousled from it’s usually impeccably neat style. His tie was undone, and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned. 

He dropped the duffel he’d been carrying on his shoulder, and suddenly, he sprang forward. But it didn’t matter, because you were already moving at the same time. 

“Bobby!” You sobbed out, falling into his arms, burying your face against his chest. 

He caught you with ease, arms wrapping securely around you as he held your trembling form. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and if you hadn’t been so overwhelmed with your own emotion you might’ve realized how badly he was shaking. 

“I’m here now,” he whispered against the top of your head, the waver in his voice betraying him, “You’re safe. You’re okay.” 

“Don’t let go!” You wept. 

“I won’t. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” He longed to say more, but he could not find the words to describe how relieved he was, how scared he’d been. Words fell short, so he remained silent. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, embracing one another. But it was quite some time. When you finally parted, you found that your tears had soaked through the fabric of his dress shirt. 

His hands, so big and familiar, came up to hold your face. His thumbs wiped your tears away. The way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe you were real, in his arms, made your chest constrict. 

He could have lost you, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did. The thought of such a thing happening almost brought him to his knees. 

“I…you…when I saw him go for that gun, I…” but he couldn’t get the words out. 

“I know,” you whispered, voice thick. 

Gingerly, he lowered his hand, pressing it against your chest, just over where your heart was. He could feel it thrumming within you, pumping your lifeblood through your body. The blood that kept you alive. The blood that had not been spilled that night, because he’d succeeded in his purpose of protecting you. 

“You’re okay. You’re alive,” he breathed, but it was more to reassure himself than you. 

Your eyes locked with his, big and blue and watery from the tears he’d shed. “We’re both alive.”

He nodded, but he still looked as if he was grappling with it. He had not been given the luxury of processing any of it. He’d been inundated with procedures and questions and demands. Not once had he been able to stop and fully think about what had happened. 

Now that you were in his arms, it was hitting him all at once. It was almost too much to bear, but then, you were speaking. 

“Bobby.” 

He looked at you immediately, and it was as if everything else had melted away, leaving only your face in his sight. His hand was still pressed against your sternum, thumb absently running along your warm skin. Alive and unharmed. 

“I’m safe. You kept me safe,” you told him. Your hand was now resting over his own against your chest. You let him feel each breath. 

“I kept you safe,” he echoed. 

You crowded his space, your body now pressed to his. You were struck, suddenly, with an intense longing that took the very breath from your lungs. Your hands were on his chest now, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. 

A silent understanding passed between you both in that moment. No words were spoken. You knew what the other was thinking. In mere seconds, you were crashing together, as if he was a wave and you were the shore upon which he’d landed. 

Your lips met, and you kissed each other desperately, as if you couldn’t get close enough, as if you parted, you would die. You held onto him tightly, and his arms secured you in place against him. 

You kissed fervently, frantically. And as you parted only briefly, you both realized that there were tears. His, yours, rolling down each of your cheeks, like rain falling from the sky. 

“Bobby,” you whimpered again. 

“I know,” he gasped against your mouth. 

He was already leading you to the bed, and you were tugging at his clothes, driven by need. A need that burned so hotly, so intensely, you were certain it would consume you whole and turn you into ash in his hands. 

He laid you out like you were precious porcelain, and you watched as he leaned back to shrug out of his suit jacket, followed by his tie. In a split second, he glanced down at his shirt, and he knew he didn’t have the patience to undo each button. So, in one swift motion, he yanked the fabric apart, sending the buttons flying. He couldn’t be bothered to care, because nothing else mattered but you. 

Haphazardly, he tossed his clothing aside, and soon, he was entirely bare. It was as if he couldn’t reach you fast enough. He was swift to climb onto the bed, and those large hands tugged at the sash of your robe, allowing the front to fall open. 

You sat upright, allowing it to slip from your upper body completely before you surged forth into your lover’s arms. Your mouths were on each other in another searing kiss, naked bodies moving in sync. 

Hands traveled, touching warm skin. A way to convince the other, “you’re safe. You’re alive.”

You let him lay you down again, spreading your body open for him. Parting your legs, exposing the most intimate parts of yourself to him. But that seemed to pale in comparison to the way you’d just bared your hearts to one another. 

I was so scared. He tried to speak it into the air, but the words died in his throat. He could not force them past his lips. But he had been scared. The most terrified he’d ever felt in his entire life. Until now, he hadn’t realized the lengths he was willing to go to to keep you safe. 

He’d always said one thing or the other, but until he was staring into the face of danger, he didn’t know. Not truly. The thought of losing you went down like a bitter poison, causing him to retch and seize. It was unimaginable. Unthinkable. Unfathomable.

“I love you.” He spoke the words out loud, his hands holding you, palms pressed against your ribs. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved before.”

Your eyes welled with tears and you kissed him again. “I love you too.” Those words felt so meager. You were not eloquent enough to express what he truly meant to you. You loved him so much it hurt, an unbearable ache rumbling through your chest like a stampede of wild horses. 

He pulled you closer still, mouth against yours, whispering soft admissions of his adoration for you. You were straddling him at that point, and you could feel him, just beginning to harden. 

In a haze of desperate need, you reached down, coaxing him to full hardness, gasping about how you needed him inside you. You needed to be connected in the most intimate of ways. You felt as if you were going to suffocate if you didn’t get him inside you in the next few minutes.

Bob soothed you with a languid kiss, tongue delving into your mouth as he gently held the back of your head in his hand. “I know. I’ve got you, little love,” he soothed. 

You keened lowly in your throat, staring at him with wide, watery eyes. You had never felt desire this intensely before. Even after all the times you’d made love. This was different. This was two lovers, terrified of what could have been, rejoicing that it had not happened, and seeking solace in the other’s arms in a way that was so sacred and intimate it could hardly be spoken of out loud. 

If you tried to put it into words it would only serve to make you weep.

So you didn’t try. You simply allowed yourself to be enveloped in the safety and warmth of your lover. He held you so close, chest to chest, hip to hip. By now you were crying out for him, pleading with him, desperate for him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated. And he did. You knew he did. 

Skilled fingers worked between your thighs, coaxing those delicate folds apart, making sure that they were ready to take him fully. Once he was absolutely certain that he would not hurt you, he aligned himself with you.

He slipped inside you in one fluid motion, mouth swallowing the broken wail that ripped itself from your throat at the feeling of being so full, so close, so consumed. You shook in his arms, unable to fathom that it could feel like this.

“Bobby!” You sobbed. 

He let out a broken cry and let his head fall onto your shoulder. He held you for a few moments as you both adjusted to the feeling of being connected. At some point, those large hand had made their way to your hips, and ever so slowly, he began to ease you up and down, back and forth.

You gasped sharply, hands shooting out to grip his shoulders, head coming forward to rest against his forehead. You locked eyes with him, mouth falling open to let out soft gasps and whimpers. 

“That’s it. I’m here. I’m here, sweet one. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never letting you out of my sight,” he professed. 

Again, a sob escaped you. “Don’t ever leave! Never, ever!”

“I won’t!” 

Your hands slid further back, until your arms were wrapped entirely around those shoulders. So close. Every inch of your bodies touching, heartbeats intermingling. You didn’t want to close your eyes, for fear of missing something. Fear of not being able to commit this moment to memory.

You never wanted to forget the deep, staggering blue of his eyes, which turned so dark sometimes they were almost black. But in brilliant, bright light, they were bluer than the deep sea. Bluer still than the heavens above your heads. 

You never wanted to forget the feeling of him inside you. So deep, filling you so wholly that it stole the breath from your very lungs. Like he was created to be connected to you in such a way. 

The feeling was almost more than you could bear, and yet, it was almost not enough all at once. You needed him closer, needed him so deep inside you that it hurt. But at the same time you needed him to be gentle, to handle you so softly, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the world outside. 

Along with your need came a breathless chant of his name that you did not realize you were uttering. With each push and pull of his hips, you wailed out, “Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!”

“I’m here,” he repeated, “I’m here. Right here, baby. Not gonna leave you.”

You held him tighter still, burying your face in the crook of his neck, sobbing openly with each nudge of him inside you. You felt so safe in his arms. So warm. So protected. Like nothing could ever hurt you. 

As he held you, adored you, made love to you, he knew that he’d stop at nothing to see to it that no harm ever came to you. He also knew how much you trusted him. How much you depended on him. He would be damned if he ever let you down. Damned if he ever failed.

He could feel your lips trailing feverishly against his skin, and he was reminded of how much you loved him. How much you cherished him. It made his chest ache, his heart threatening to burst forth. 

He didn’t realize he was crying again until he felt wetness land against the hand he held against your shoulder. In a moment of need he pulled you back and sought out your lips, kissing you even as tears trailed down his cheeks. 

“You’re my baby,” he whispered against your mouth. “My baby. Always gonna love you. Always gonna protect you. Mine.”

You pressed your forehead against his again, whimpering softly as you shifted your hips and felt him nudge against that wonderfully sensitive spot within you. 

“‘m yours,” you assured him. How good it felt to say that. To give yourself to him, to place your heart in his hands and watch him handle it with such tenderness. 

You wanted to say more, but you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs, punched away by each sip of his hips into yours, each stretch as your body tried to accommodate him. So big. So deep. Too much. Not enough. Just right. Don’t stop. 

Push, pull, forward, backward. A steady rhythm you’d built between your bodies. He lifted his pelvis to meet yours each time you sank down. Your thighs were beginning to burn from the exertion, but you didn’t care. 

All you cared about was the closeness. The connection. The end goal of this wasn’t to chase a release or experience insurmountable pleasure. It was simple to just be together. Joined as one. Pretending for just a few moments that everything was okay. 

“Bobby. Oh! Bobby, I lo-love you,” you cried. 

But he knew. And he kissed you. Swallowing up that confession, consuming it. He couldn’t speak if he tried, couldn’t utter a reply. So he held you. Hands kept you close, moving your body with his own. 

Yeah. Just like that. Take it. So good for me. So sweet. Precious little baby, and you’re all mine. 

You were clawing at him, trembling fiercely in his arms as your body grew warm, both from pleasure and from his proximity. With each push of his hips into you, his pubic bone pressed and ground against your sensitive little bundle, and you knew you would not be long for this world at the rate he was going. 

Faster and deeper he went, until you were both rutting into each other in desperation, open mouths against the other, gasping, moaning, whimpering. 

It built, and built, and built. Like water coming to a boil. Like magma readying itself to erupt from a volcano. The intensity was sudden and overwhelming, and you found yourself crying out. 

You knew being loud wasn’t the best move. You weren’t entirely alone. Outside that hotel door was one of the members of your security detail. But you couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. Nothing else mattered but the man in your arms, buried inside you, clinging to you, loving you. 

“You,” he breathed against your parted lips. “You are my world.”

“And you’re mine.” You were crying again. Molten tears sliding down hot cheeks. But he kissed those tears away. Kissed it better, just like he always did. 

You were losing yourself now. He could tell. Could feel it in the way your body tightened around his, pulled taut like a violin string, ready to snap from its hold. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut tight, reeling from the overwhelming heat of it all. 

Bobby pulled you down harder against him, filling you deeper still and pulling a broken sob from your raw throat. It was almost too much, and you found yourself grasping at him, nails leaving trails of pink and red in their wake. Your marks against his skin would only serve as a reminder of what had transpired this night between you both.

“B-Bobby, I’m-I’m close,” you whined.

“Let go when you need, little love,” he coaxed, barely holding it together himself. 

More tears fell, faster than you could stop them. The closer you got, the faster you began to lose yourself. Crying, sniffling, whimpering. So close, so close, so close. And then, suddenly, firm hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he took complete control. 

Driving into you over and over and over again, pulling cries of need and pleasure from your very lungs. All you could do was hold on tight, taking all he had to give as you wailed out his name repeatedly. Almost there. Teetering on the edge. 

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

He was moments away from losing himself. So he begged you, pleaded with you, coaxed it out of you. “Come for me, my baby.”

And you did. 

With a shriek, you surged forward in his arms, holding tightly to him. “Bobby!” And then you were coming. It hit you like a bolt of lightning, searing, blinding, electrifying. You shuddered and convulsed in the arms of the man you loved, sobbing openly, repeating his name like a sacred prayer.

Your pleasure pulled his own from him, and he let out a strangled moan of your name as he offered a few more sharp pulses of his hips against yours before the evidence of his ecstasy flooded the very deepest part of you.

You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his pearlescent release flooding you, claiming you as his own and no one else’s. Still shivering from the aftershocks, you both slowly came down, holding onto one another, unable to speak or think.

Gradually, the fog began to clear. Your mind grew less hazy. Your eyes less glossy. Your limbs, however, felt heavy as ever, as if they were filled with sand. But you made no move to break the connection your bodies still had to one another. An anchor in the midst of a storm. 

The feeling of Bobby’s hands sliding soothingly along your spine brought you back. As your eyes refocused, you took in the sight of his handsome face. Flushed cheeks. Glimmering eyes. Kiss-bitten lips.

“Are you alright?” were the first words out of his mouth as he finally found the wherewithal to speak.

You nodded, slipping our arms around his neck, snuggling into him. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Good, ‘cause that was intense. I didn’t expect that to happen, but…it did.”

“I’m glad it did. I needed to be close to you. To forget about what happened for a little while.”

A hum rumbled in his chest. “I needed that, too.”

Silence followed. Comfortable, stretching out for a few minutes until he finally slipped out of you, soothing your whimper at the emptiness you felt. “You’re okay, little love.”

But as he carefully moved you to lay in the bed, his face soon grew serious, eyes turning stormy gray. “I’m sorry,” he confessed. “I’m sorry any of this happened. He shouldn’t have been able to get that close to you. I should’ve seen it sooner. Should’ve done something before…I should’ve…”

“Bobby.”

His eyes flickered to yours.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“He could’ve hurt you. He could’ve taken you from me.”

“But he didn’t. You hear me? You protected me, just like you promised me you would. That’s all that matters.”

“What if, one day, I can’t protect you? What if I fail you? Fail your father?”

“Don’t, If you think like that, you’ll just drive yourself mad. What I need from you is to focus on the here and now. Not the ‘what if’. Okay? I need you with me now. I need…I need just a few hours in your arms before we have to face the rest of the world. I need my Bobby.”

He took a shuddering breath. Then another. And then, he looked at you. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’m with you until they call me away.”

And so, for the next few hours, he threw himself into taking care of you. Cleaning you up, wrapping you back into your robe, soothing you with gentle hands and loving words. It wasn’t long before you were succumbing to your exhaustion, and you fell asleep in Bob’s arms, safe and sound, if only for a few short hours.

The last thing you remembered hearing him murmur was a soft, “I love you” against your scalp as you drifted off. 

However, the next morning, you woke to an empty bed, and a note on the bedside table that read, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you woke up. Bradley and Jake are right outside the door. You’re safe. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can. Love, Bobby.”

You wished you’d had just a few moments more with him. But time was your enemy. It always would be. Always moving. Dragging you from place to place. Even after your very life had been threatened, you were expected to move forward, because time stopped for no one. 

Not even for a president’s daughter and her protector.

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[aestheticpearl]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐤

[𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫] bob floyd

[𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰, 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲]

the way bob uses his tongue on you is incredible and feels incredible for that fact— you discovered that he had this special skill when you both went out to the bar one night with him and you had given him the maraschino cherry out of your shirley temple that you got stuck with since you volunteered to be the designated driver.

he took the cherry happily and continued to chew the stem out while he played pool with the naval aviators. you watched him a little too intensely while he moved the stem between his lips; you kept imagining how amazing he would feel between your legs while his remarkable tongue worked over your very needy and aching pussy. he noticed your stares and smirked before moving the whole stem into his mouth— this seemed to break you stare out of your lewd thoughts as he handed the pool cue over to his teammate to walk over to you.

you gazed up at him has he cupped your face and kissesdyou deeply. it caught you by surprise considering bob has never been a huge fan of pda beside the occasional hand holding or quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this wasn’t like that. this kiss felt like he knew you wanted him, especially since he lightly pulled down your chin to get you to open your mouth to let him move the cherry stem into your mouth instead of his. it’s almost like he can sense your confusion and he takes the opportunity to pull away leaving you a tad breathless and gawking like an idiot at him. 

he smiles that dorky smile and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip and goes back to the game of pool, leaving you stunned and with a wet spot now forming on your panties. you try to refocus on the fact that the cherry stem is still in your mouth and you pull it out to reveal that it’s been knotted. twice. something in you starts burning and you need to get out of here, like right now.

“honey?” you walk over next to him and pull out the puppy dog eyes. “can we go home? i’m getting tired of standing here looking pretty for you” you smile sickeningly sweet at him hoping to god he gets the hint. he does.

“of course we can sugar” he says while wrapping his arm around your waist and it’s this plus the deep kiss you shared that reminds you how handsy bob gets when a couple of drinks in. “hey guys we’re gonna head out” his statement is followed by everyone telling their goodbyes and to drive safe while you leave the place a little too quickly.

the drive home is basic hell for you; you white knuckle all the way home while bob has his fingers linger on your thigh even though you’re the one driving. once it’s over you both get out of the car and you fumble through your keys trying desperately to find the right one. once the lock clicks bob is all over you, pushing you through the doorway and kicking it closed with his foot while he kisses you and any part of your exposed skin on your neck.

“what’s gotten into you honey? so bold” you say with a smile as you feel him leave marks along your neck, the sensation shoots straight to your core.

“gin and tonics” he grumbles while still attacking your neck. you giggle to yourself as you recall how many he kept downing at the bar. his hands move down to your waist and massage your hips gently, he wants you badly. he suddenly grabs your hips to hoist you over his shoulder to move to the bed faster while walking to your shared bedroom you feel a slap on your ass which makes you yelp and certainly doesn’t help your panties in become any dryer, quite the opposite.

he lays you on the bed and hikes up your cocktail dress that you’ve been wearing to expose your very soaked panties to him.

“you’ve been thinking about this just as much as me” he moves to his knees and pulls you so you’re right at the edge of the bed infront of him. he traces over the water patch you’ve created and presses lightly on your clothed clit, you let out a gasp unintentionally. he loves your reactions to his touches; he circles your clit and stands up to kiss you sweetly before asking.

“let me taste you” his words send a shiver down your spine and you quickly nod. he kisses you again before returning to his knees to pull your panties off to put them into his khaki pocket, then he just goes for it. he flattens his tongue against your aching cunt and you moan at the contact alone, you hand moves to mess up his slick backed hair and your fingers twist and tangle in his locks when he swirls his tongue around your clit already feeling your orgasm start to climb.

“h—holy fuck nghh i’m gonna—shit” you feel him dip his tongue into you and that’s when he starts circling your clit once again and you can feel your core heat up. bob holds your hips down one handed with ease to prevent you from moving while he works his magical tongue on you. it’s his moan into your pussy at pushes you over the edge and works you through it, by the end you’re a panting mess.

he pulls away and kisses the inside of your thigh before leaning over to kiss you, you can taste yourself on his tongue when you realize you haven’t helped him out at all. “shit babe take your pants off so i can return the favor”

“there’s uh really no need” he blushes a dark red and looks down at his cum stained khakis. you follow his gaze then look back up to him.

“you came in your pants just from eating me out?” he turns his head away shyly and you turn him back to face you. “that’s so hot honey” you kiss him again.

“okay let’s get you cleaned up now sugar” he says checking your cheek as he picks you up to bring you to the shower for clean up that may or may not end up being round two.

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.love always <3 pearl

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[mothdruid]

What We Express

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader

summary: Professor Floyd has plagued your mind all semester. You have thought about him endlessly. So, when a project presents the perfect opportunity to talk to him, you do. Only then do you find out he feels a similar way about you.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, fluff at the end, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, pet names (good girl, sweetie), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, power imbalance, student/teacher relationship, bob fucks

a/n: POETRY PROFESSOR FLOYD!!!!!! HERE WE GO BABY

It was truly unbearable. Sitting in class listening to your professor talk about poetry. Specifically, romanticism poetry. The way his checker pattern suit pants hugged his ass had you unsettled. Readjusting in your seat every so often, feeling yourself become wetter and wetter. Every time his tongue flicked over his bottom lip you wondered what it would feel like flicking against you. Not even to mention how hot and bothered it made you when he rolled his sleeves up, adjusting his glasses immediately after. 

This wasn’t the first day of class, not even the second week. You were over half way through the semester. Half a semester of getting hot and bothered every time you had poetry class. Poetry of all things. You knew it had an impact on people, but you never knew it would want to make you fuck your professor. Honestly, it was just your professor. He could have been teaching mathematics for all you cared and it would be hot. 

“Poetry is meant to evoke that which can’t be fully expressed. As you all know, but what about poetry that can evoke what we can express?” His voice flowed through the air. A small smile was on his lips, his eyes flicking to yours. You watched as his tongue ran over his bottom lip again, breaking eye contact with you afterwards. “Would anyone like to give me an example?” 

There was a little bit of rustling, but nonetheless no one answered. Professor Floyd clasped his hands together lightly, rubbing them together. Reciting poetry about love was not the first thing on your mind. Thoughts of what his hands would feel like running over your sides, up your thighs until his fing-

“No? Alright, I will.”

“Darlin’

Kiss me like you need

Because my lips want to know

All the places 

You have been hurt

So they can make all the pain

Drift away.”

Silence settled in the class, you shifting. You felt hot, correcting your posture and sitting back in your seat. Your thoughts ran rampant. Hearing words like that as Professor Floyd caressed your body. Him wanting to take away all of the pain your body had caused you through the years. A part of you wonders if Professor Floyd even thought about you like that, or if he could. 

It wasn’t that your actual body had caused you pain, more like the people around you had. Your mother had always pestered you about watching what you ate. Boys teased you in grade school, hell they even used you as butts of their dating jokes. But this was college and it was different. People looked at you, expressed actual interest in you and your body. What’s to say that Professor Floyd would be any different? You raised your hand. 

“Got something for us?” He smiled at you, gesturing to you with a hand. 

“Yes, Professor.”

“And if the moon could talk

I wonder if he would tell the night

Just how lovely she is

With all those stars shining bright.” 

His smile was bright, eyes almost twinkling as he watched you recite the lines. 

“Beautiful. Love is an easier emotion to convey. It’s the one most people think of when they think of poetry. Thank you.” Professor Floyd looked at the rest of the class, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You wish you knew what he was thinking? What thoughts swirled behind those chrysalises he called eyes. “Now love, as we all know can cause.. ehem.. certain types of intimacy. So, your next poem is to be focused on a type of intimacy generated by love.” Rustling of people's books and bags had started, making you check the time. Time was up, class was over. “Now if anyone has questions, don’t hesitate to approach me about them.” 

Other students filtered out of the class, some approaching him with questions. You slotted your books and notebook into your bag, taking your time. You wanted to talk to him, but there was something boiling in your throat telling you otherwise. The idea of rejection from your favorite professor wasn’t very comforting. After grabbing your water bottle and phone, you smoothed your skirt, then went up to his desk. Only a few students stood between you and him. You stared out the window near his desk, not paying any attention when the others left. 

“See you, Professor F!” That pulled you out of your stare, looking back to see only Professor Floyd now. His smile was warm and welcoming, his eyes soft as he adjusted his glasses while looking at you. 

“I uh..” 

“Did you need to speak to me about the project?” Uncertainty bubbled in you, knowing that you didn’t actually need to speak to him. Just wanting to talk to him. 

It wasn’t that you only lusted after your professor, you yearned for him. You wanted to know everything about him. What his favorite color was, his favorite movie, hell, even his favorite meal. You wanted everything about him. His slightly awkward yet confident demeanor had always left you reeling, wondering if he was that way outside of class too. 

“Yes, the intimacy poem. I think I might need some clarification.” A heat burned in you, shock that you even asked something so embarrassing. But you watched as a rosy color filled his cheeks, dusting them so evenly. 

“Oh, yes of course. I… would you mind if we discussed it in my office?” 

Professor Floyd watched as you nodded, giving you a similar nod back. He started gathering his items. Slinging his coat over one shoulder and gathering his books with his other hand. He gestured towards the door of the classroom, to which you followed him. He led you down the hallway to his office. A silence had settled between the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say. 

His office was lined with many bookshelves. Books of the greats and some other lesser known authors. As you peered at them he made his way to the desk, setting his books from class down. He set his suit jacket over the back of his desk chair. You turned just in time to watch him adjust his glasses, something that drove you crazy. "What did you want to discuss?" 

“Yes, I was curious about the project.” You set your book bag down near a chair in front of his desk, taking a seat in the process. He leaned against the front of his desk, looking down at you with his cerulean orbs. 

“What about the project?” Curiosity was laced through his voice. 

“I’m not sure if I understand it properly. I was wondering if you might be able to give me an example.” The temp in his office had to have risen a few degrees. What else would make your hands become this clammy? Asking the professor, that you had been crushing on all semester, for examples of erotic poetry couldn’t have been it. 

“An example of a physically intimate poem?” His cheeks looked like borderline cherries now. 

“Yeah.” The word was almost a whisper, your nervousness starting to get the better of you.

You looked away shyly, embarrassed by what you were now asking him. Professor Floyd noticed that your anxiety was starting to get the better of you. Without thinking he reached out, gently taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He angled you to look up at him. You could feel your heartbeat in your cheeks, the thumping audible in your ears now. 

Cerulean orbs scanned your face, taking in every feature that he had learned to adore in class. From the first day you came into his class he had noticed you. The way you always chimed in with a poem of your own. You made him feel seen in a sea of uninterested college students. Not only were you kind, but smart too. 

You plagued his thoughts everyday. He wondered how you would sound, soft gasps or hearty moans? How would your body feel against his? Did your skin feel as soft as it looked? What did you taste like? He couldn’t help but wonder the most dangerous thoughts about you. The most dangerous thoughts about his student.

“Crashing waves on an empty beach

The rhythm of our hearts

Two drowning lovers lost at sea

My lips adrift from yours.”

His thumb drifted over your bottom lip during the second line. The pad of his thumb pulled down on your lip with the final line. You watched his mouth go ajar, the both of you staring at each other with baited breath. You flicked your tongue out, wetting a small section of his thumb. You could hear the shaky breath he let out, giving you confidence. 

“The very thought of you

Has my legs spread apart

Like an easel with a canvas

Begging for art.” 

“Is that what you’re gonna do? Beg for me?” A small whimper passed your lips, hot breath gathering around the thumb still pressed to your lip. He leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you. His face was mere inches away from yours, both of you breaking eye contact to look at each other's lips. 

Professor Floyd pressed his thumb harder against your lip. You opened your mouth involuntarily, letting his thumb slip past your lips into your mouth. A groan fell from his lips, the feeling of your wet muscle caressing his thumb. The taste of his skin was intoxicating. You sucked softly on his thumb, opening your legs and letting him stand between them. 

He couldn’t believe the sight before him. The student he had been lusting for sitting before him. Legs spread just enough for him to stand between, your skirt barely hiding the apex of your thighs. The wet heat of your mouth was driving him wild. He contemplated just face fucking you right then and there. But he needed to know how your cunt would feel wrapped around him. Better yet, how you tasted. 

“Gonna be a good girl?” You nodded. He removed his thumb from your mouth, pressing the saliva covered pad to your lips once more. The grip on your chin pulled up softly, you rising from the seat to meet him. His thumb slowly fell from your lips, hand ghosting down your arm. He leaned near you, his lips almost on your ear. 

“Are you sure about this?” You turned to look at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes. 

A part of you started to panic, wondering if he was changing his mind. There was a lot at risk here, for the both of you. But the hand on your arm grabbed your hand, the other coming up to your cheek. You tried to avert your gaze, but he kept your eyes level with his. There was a light squeeze on your hand before he spoke again. 

“I just want to make sure that you want this.” Your heart fluttered at his words. 

“Yes, Professor. I want this.” He held back a groan, the formal title having a stronger effect than he thought it would. 

The lips you had craved for weeks were now finally pressed against yours. Your lips moved in tandem with his. You had always assumed they would be soft, but you hadn’t imagined them this soft. They felt like silk against your lips. A small moan left you, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling your hips tightly to his. You could feel him through his slacks, cock already hard from your words. 

The two of you rocked there together, groans and moans pouring from the both of you. One of the hands on your hip trailed back, grabbing your ass over your skirt. Your skirt rode up slightly, exposing skin for Professor Floyd to knead. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, pressing your chest tighter to his. Your body was ignited, excitement running through your veins. 

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” He turned the two of you around, pressing you back against his desk. “Teasing me everyday with your words.” He pushed some items to one side of his desk, mouth working over your neck. One of your hands came down and gripped at the front of his button down. 

“Says the one with a silver-tongue.” A smirk appeared on his lips. His hands drifted up the skin of your thighs, kneading the flesh of your thighs. He looked at you as he moved between your legs. 

“Silver-tongue, huh? That’s what you call it?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thumbs rubbing soft circles on your thighs now. 

“Yes, Professor.” The title pulled another groan out of him. His hands drifted up, pushing your skirt higher and higher. 

The fabric was now gathered around your hips, exposing your soft pink lace panties to him. He brought a hand to your clothed core, rubbing over the wet patch. You dropped your head back, basking in the pleasure. It was a pleasure you had waited too long for. Gasps fell from you as his fingers kept working you over your panties. 

Professor Floyd could barely believe this was happening. The sounds you were making were going to plague his mind. He would have to write a poem about them, about how intoxicating they were. If the growing wet patch on your panties was any indicator, you were loving this just as much as he was. 

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet.” He said, fingers pushing your panties to the side now. His fingers slipped between your folds, finding your clit with an expertise you had never experienced. 

The hand on your thigh moved to your face, cupping it. He pressed his forehead to yours, your hot breath fanning over his face when you moaned. Your eye locked with his, taking in his lust blown eyes. Your hands cupped the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours. His fingers worked your clit as your lips moved together. A tightness in your lower abdomen had started to form.

“Fuck, Professor.” You dropped your head back once more, making him smirk. 

“God, you’re a work of art. Something poets would describe.” His lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking lightly at your skin. His lips trailed lower to your collarbones, licking at the skin the v in your cardigan sweater exposed. The tightness in your abdomen was becoming more pronounced. More whimpers and moans started to fall from you, signaling to him that you were close. Without warning, his fingers were gone. 

“Profe-” He pressed the fingers to your mouth, urging you to take them in. You took two of his fingers into your mouth, tasting the wetness coating his fingers. He groaned as you lapped at his fingers, sucking on them gently as you tasted yourself on them. 

“Tastes good, right?” You nodded around his fingers. “Good, ‘cause I want to taste you.” Your insides clenched at his slight accent. 

He dropped to his knees in front of you, adjusting his glasses as he looked up at you. The sight of him between your thighs was something to behold. He looked so innocent even though you knew he was anything but. His fingers hooked into the band of your panties. You lifted your ass off the desk, helping as he guided them over your ass and down your legs. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, nipping at the inside of your thigh. You threaded your fingers through his sandy locks, messing them up softly. 

A trail of kisses and nips formed on the inside of your thigh. A cold breath covered your cunt, sending a shiver all over your body. You planted both hands behind you, letting your head and body fall back slightly. Pleasure coursed through you, every stroke of his tongue sending a wave of pleasure through you. Your legs started to quiver from the pleasure. 

“Your mouth, fuck, Professor.” You could feel his smirk against your cunt. 

Each lap of his tongue was heavenly, pushing you closer to the edge. The tightness had returned to your abdomen, already a tight coil threatening to snap. Words were now escaping your mind, moans and whimpers were now the only things leaving you. This was something you had fantasized about all semester, and now it was actually happening. 

“So fucking good.” The swear had you clenching, the tightness in your abdomen about to snap. Then suddenly, his mouth was gone from you. A whine escaped you as you looked down at him. 

“What the-”

“Beg.” He adjusted his glasses, your eyebrows knitted together. He rested his cheek against your thigh, the wire frames of his glasses digging into your skin lightly. “You said you would beg, so go on. Beg.” A heat flooded you, his voice dropping on the last word. He brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing soft circles. He gave you a small smile, “I’m waiting.” 

“Please, Professor. I need you to let me cum. Your tongue feels so good on my pussy. Let me cum for you, please.” His soft smile turned into something slightly wicked. 

You could feel his fingers drifting lower, now circling your entrance. His breath ghosted over your clit and folds. A gasp left you as you felt a finger slip into you. It was a faint stretch, nothing that was going to send you over the edge. It was enough to make you crave more. 

“Those are some dirty words for someone who seems so innocent.” He slipped another finger inside of you. His fingers curled up inside of you, prodding at the sensitive spot inside of you. 

“Only for you, Professor.” He let out a groan. This was his first time with you, but he was already starting to feel possessive. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, let alone hear you. 

“It better be.” He closed his mouth over your clit, flicking his tongue and thrusting his fingers. 

Your back arched, a rush of pleasure flowing through you. One of your hands went straight to his hair, tugging lightly. A mix of moans and ‘professor’ poured out of you, legs quivering as your orgasm threatened to crash over you. He flattened his tongue against you, rocking his face back and forth on you. He moaned against your cunt, the vibration pushing you to the edge. 

“Ah fuck!” You whimpered as your orgasm took over. His tongue didn’t let up, lapping at you as your hips started to shake. 

“That’s it, give me everything.” He whispered into your skin, fingers still prodding at that sensitive bundle inside of you. 

He never removed his fingers from you, keeping them prodding that bundle of nerves. He rose up, pressing his wet lips onto yours. You moaned at the taste of yourself, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. This kiss was needy, not like the others. He was pressing his body to yours, fingers pulling out of you to fiddled with the button of his slacks. Your hands came up to the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks as he devoured your mouth. 

“Fuck me, please. I need you inside of me, need to feel you stretch me.” You heard a chuckle from him. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m gettin’ there.” He pushed his slacks down enough to expose his cock. 

Without a second thought you reached down, taking his cock in your hand and jerking him. He pressed his forehead to yours, moaning at the feeling. His hips stuttered into your hand a little bit. His cock felt like pulsing silk in your hand, the urge to have it inside of you growing. 

“I don’t have any condoms. I don’t really do this in my office.” He admitted, a whimper ending the sentence. 

“That’s okay, just pull out.” You continued to jerk him lightly. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He moved to pull his glasses off when you stopped him. “Those stay on.” 

A small red tint appeared on his cheeks. He repositioned his hips, lining himself up with your entrance. The both of you whimpered at the initial sensation, your warmth encasing him and the stretch of his cock. He inched into you, stilling once he was fully seated inside of you. The both of you sat there taking in the sensations. 

“I could stay here for days.” He whispered, pressing kisses to your neck and clavicle. 

“Too bad you have later classes.” You whimpered, feeling him twitch inside of you. 

“Don’t remind me.” He pulled back, leaving just the tip inside of you. He looked down, seeing where the two of you were joined together. He slowly pushed back in, watching himself start to fuck you. 

You followed suit, watching his cock thrust in and out of you. Every now and then, the light would catch a certain way on your fluids covering his cock. His thrusts started picking up, one of his hands moving to grip your hips, the other moving to hook your leg around his waist. One of your hands moved behind you to the desk, holding yourself up. Your other arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

“You’re like a warm summer day, engulfing and unforgiving. Leaving me parc-” You smashed your lips to his, cutting him off. You loved when he spoke poetry, but now wasn’t the right time. 

“No poetry,” you let out a moan when the head of his cock nudged that bundle of nerves, “not right now.” He nodded, driving his hips hard into yours. 

“Fuck, how do you feel so good?” He whimpered, lips attaching to your neck. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to pull out.” 

His confession wasn’t concerning, it was something you craved. You hooked both legs around him, locking him against you. 

“Fill me up then, Professor.” A groan ripped through his throat. 

“How are you so fucking filthy?” He groaned. “Lay back.”

You moved down to prop yourself up on your elbows. His hands moved to your hips, making sure to push the fabric of your skirt up higher. He wanted to see everything, watch how fucked out you became. He could see your tits rocking underneath your sweater cardigan. He wished he could have seen them, maybe next time. If there would even be a next time. 

The grip on your hips was rough, something you didn’t know he would be fully capable of. You had always pictured him as someone well-mannered. But this was proving you otherwise. He was showing you a new side, one you yearned to see more often. 

Your back arched harshly when one of his hands drifted to your clit. His thumb started rubbing soft circles while his cock beat against that sensitive bundle. Your body started to shake, the tightness in your abdomen threatening to snap already. You brought one hand up his chest, fisting his button down in your hand. 

“That’s it, sweetie.” He urged, thrusts picking up. 

When the tightness snapped you saw stars. Pleasure coursed through you, searing every nerve in your body. Moans and whimpers poured from you, with a small mix of ‘professor’ thrown in. Your hips rocked against his still thrusting ones, legs quivering from the sensation. Your walls clenched tightly around him, not wanting to let him go. His hips stuttered for a moment, eventually going flush against yours. A groan fell from him as he filled you up. 

The two of you sat there for a moment, catching your breath. He looked at you, cupping your jaw and kissing you. You let out a giggle when he pulled back from the kiss. Your giggle turned into a whimper when he pulled out. He reached for the tissue box on his desk, whipping himself off  and tucking himself in his pants before he moved to clean you. He let out a groan when he saw the state of your cunt, fucked out with his cum dripping out of you. 

“So filthy.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh before whipping his cum away. 

He located your panties afterward, slipping them back on your legs and helping you put them on. A silence had settled between the two of you by this time. What was to happen now? Was this just a one time thing? Was he going to fail you out of his class? Worse, was he going to pass you only because you two fucked? A kiss to your temple pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“I know, it’s a lot.” You couldn’t help but feel a little dirty. Tears welled up, something he immediately picked up on. “Hey, hey, sweetie, don’t cry. Nothing is going to happen.” You leaned into him, accepting the embrace he offered you. 

“I don’t want anything bad to happen. To me or you.” You whispered against his shirt. He pulled back and cupped your face, angling you to look at him. 

“It’s scary, I won’t deny that. But as long as this stays between us, it’ll be okay. And if this was a one time thing, it was a one time thing.” 

“But what if I don’t want it to be a one time thing?” You asked. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, matching the one that was now in your eyes. 

“I- I would love to, but I’m not sure if it’d be smart. With me still being your teacher.” He gave you a small frown, hand coming around to rub your hand. 

“I know, but I want to know you as more than just my poetry professor.” 

“I want to know you as more than just my poetry student too.” There was a sad look taking over his face. You had a similar one. “There is just too much risk, especially while I’m teaching you.” He adjusted his glasses while looking at you, the hand holding yours squeezing lightly. 

“What about after the semester then?” You lit up a little bit. He smiled, loving the way you lit up. 

“I don’t think I would mind that.” He kissed you softly, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. You gathered your bag from the floor, heading towards the door. He watched you hesitate before taking the handle in your grasp. You looked back at him, giving him a soft smile. 

“I’ll see you around, Professor.” You went to leave before he called for you. 

“You can call me Bob.” He said with a smile.

[vivalas-vega]

Hello again! It's Syd 🥰🩷

I sent an ask a few days ago but I just saw your post about sending more so here I am! (& good luck on your journey quitting vape, you got this!! 🩷)

Here's an idea:

(Could be with bob, nat, jake, roost, it's up to you really) Reader just got home from work and starts rambling about work gossip with her partner while getting undressed to take a shower. The partner stops paying attention to the story as she lifts her shirt and takes off her pants, ogling at the brand new set of lingerie they had never seen her wearing before.

Reader is busy walking around the room gathering her skin care products & pajamas while going off on a tangent about a particularly annoying coworker. Noticing her partner isn't responding, she playfully asks "are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?", finally turning to find her lover on the edge of the bed with a dreamy look on their slightly flushed face, reaching for her as they ask "is that a new set...?"

Could be just fluffy with a hint of suggestive or smutty😌 feel free to change it anyway you want it!

hello !!! thank you so much for sending this request in and I'm so sorry that it took me an unreasonable amount of time to post !!! but, my first Bob fic ! this just screamed Bob to me, I took some creative liberties but I hope I did your request justice!

focus / bob floyd x reader

word count: 1k (short and sweet!)

warnings: a little spicy at the end but otherwise pretty pg-13!

“Bob, you home?” you asked, shutting the front door behind you as you dropped your keys in the bowl and slipped out of your heels and coat. Excitement had been radiating throughout your body, threatening to rattle you apart from the inside out the entire drive home. You were sitting on a rather juicy piece of intel you’d been counting down the seconds to be able to share with your partner… the first and usually only person you told anything and everything.

“Bedroom, honey!” You heard him call out and you raced down the hallway, bursting into the room with sheer glee written all over your face. “Good day at work?” he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

“No, not at all actually. Remember that case I’ve been working on I regretfully cannot tell you anything about? Client withheld something major and I spent the entirety of my day reworking the whole thing… after I’d just done that yesterday.”

“Then what has you so excited?” He watched as you took off your watch and earrings, delicately placing them in their respective homes atop your dresser. The book he’d been reading was abandoned the second he heard your voice echo throughout your shared home. If you were even remotely in his presence there was nothing else that could hold his focus, not that he would have wanted anything else to take precedence over you anyways.

“So, in the break room today I overheard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to, regarding a certain coworker and her husband.” you started, eyebrows raised as you watched the excitement on his face mirror your own as he shifted down the bed to listen with rapt attention.

“Please tell me this is about Denise,” he almost begged. This particular saga of workplace drama was a personal favorite of you two.

“Oh, is it ever. She was on the phone with her husband in very hushed tones arguing about the pick up and drop off schedule for their kids when she suddenly said ‘this has nothing to do with him’.” you continued, placing your blazer in the hamper.

“Him, as in the kids tutor, right?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “But the real pièce de résistance of this story is who made an impromptu stop by the office today… with flowers.” You’d already discarded your silk camisole and were sliding your favorite slacks off… a beautiful shade of emerald green fitted perfectly to your body before flaring out and creating the illusion your legs were a mile long. They weren’t just your favorite though, and you were completely unaware of the way Bob’s eyes tracked their movement down your curves into their puddle on the floor where you bent over to pick them up and he suddenly felt as if the room had gotten warmer.

“Is that so?” he asked, while his attention was hung on your every word a few moments ago, if you’d asked him any follow up questions on what you’d just said he’d have no response… he was far more interested in the black lace adorning your body, particularly in the fact that it was unrecognizable to him.

“Mmhm,” you hummed again, still blind to the way your boyfriend was looking at you as you moved around the room, lost in your after-work routine of shedding your work persona before your shower. “It’s as if she’s unaware of the fact that we all know, or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t care. It’s incredibly ballsy. You know, I actually like her husband, of course I know nothing of their home life and I know better than anyone the public façade can be polar opposite from the reality behind closed doors but he does seem like one of the good ones.” You’d paused for his response, expecting agreement or a snarky quip but when you were met with silence you turned around to find his eyes far lower than you anticipated. “Bob? Are you even listening to me?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but really you were anything but as you saw the lovesick look on his face.

His head snapped up, eyes wide like a man caught, “sorry sweetheart, I just… is this a new set?” he asked, swallowing harshly as his hands reached out and caught your hips, tugging you to stand in between his legs. He was looking up at you with pure adoration, the kind that knocked all the air from your lungs and rendered you almost speechless. Your first meeting by chance at the Hard Deck all those months ago had done nothing to prepare you for the man before you… timid glances and bashful smiles, earnest conversation and a chaste kiss to your cheek after walking you to your car. There was nothing timid or bashful about him now, nothing chaste about the way his fingers trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his eyes raked your form, fire burning within those blue eyes.

“It might be,” you teased, moving to straddle his thighs and his arms were quick to cage themselves around you, locking you in place and keeping you from falling backwards.

“And you expect me to give a damn about Denise when you’re parading around this room looking like this?” he asked, pressing kisses along the column of your neck.

You gripped his jaw, pulling his face back and forcing him to look at you. “You’re damn right I do.” you shot back, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid your beauty is a bit distracting.” he replied, pulling your hand away and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Besides… I think my attention would be better served elsewhere.” he added before continuing his path up your arm and to your collarbone where you couldn’t help but tilt your head back, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you agreed, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to press your lips to his. The previous topic was entirely forgotten now with your excitement channeled directly towards the man beneath you… the one person you wanted to share everything with and the one person who could make you gladly abandon anything and everything for.

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)

[sailor-aviator]

Til the Summer Comes Again: Chapter One

Til the Summer Comes Again: Chapter One

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, 'Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'" — Lewis Carrol

Summary: Bob was a winter spirit who loved what he did. He loved making individual snowflakes. He loved the way the snow sparkled in the winter sun. He loved the laughter his creations brought to people around the world. What he didn't expect, was to fall in love with a human girl from a small town. He has until the summer comes again for her to reciprocate his feelings if he wants to remain on earth, but will the shadows that haunt her get in the way of happily ever after? (JackFrost! AU)

Trigger Warnings: Language, Flirting, Talks of past trauma, Allusions to depressive episodes, Allusions to failing, Magic, Elemental/Seasonal Spirits, Mentions of feeling watched. I think that's it.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: I realize that not too terribly much happened in this chapter, but things are just getting warmed up! Be sure to join the tag list too if you haven't already so you don't miss out on any updates! I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts, and stay tuned for an exciting little announcement. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where all of my works will also be published! If you enjoy my work, please consider sending me a tip!

Series Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

There was a chill in the air as you walked into the tired, old bookstore on the corner of main and first. The building was as old as the town of North Island, Maine itself. You weren’t sure if it had always been a bookstore, but it had been ever since your mother was a child. She had insisted on moving closer to her parents who were getting on in years, and your father had readily complied as his job allowed him the privilege of working remotely. Your mother would bring you with her to the bookstore every so often, perusing the old books as you sat in the corner with whatever book had caught your eye that day.

“There’s magic in old books, Sugar Plum,” she would say. “You just have to know where to look for it.”

And while you loved books, dance was your first love, hence your mother’s nickname for you. She had loved dancing as a child, but left it behind in pursuit of other endeavors, something she regretted immensely. Which is why she had signed you up for dance lessons at an early age, and when you were cast as a sugar plum fairy alongside the older girls one year? She was ecstatic, calling you her little sugar plum so much that the name had just stuck, even beyond the world of dance.

Your mother had led you into the kindergarten classroom as your little hands wrapped around her leg nervously.

“There’s no need to be scared, Sugar Plum,” she had cooed, coaxing you out from behind her as you peered around the room at the other children with your little eyes. “Everyone here is new too.”

“But I don’t wanna leave you,” you pouted, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of your mother leaving you behind. She kneeled down in front of you, rubbing her hands up and down your arms in a bid to soothe you.

“It won’t be forever,” she assured you, smiling softly. “It’s only until three o’clock today. And then you get to come home!”

“What if no one likes me?” You whispered, the tears threatening to spill over now. It was one thing to be in a new place by yourself, but for no one to like you on top of it? Your mind couldn’t comprehend the horror.

“That’s not going to happen, Sugar Plum,” she chuckled, running a hand over your hair. “How could anyone not like you?”

Before you could answer, a girl with dark hair and big brown eyes came skipping up to the two of you with a huge smile.

“Hi!” she chirped, looking at you. “I’m Natasha, but you can call me Nat. What’s your name?”

You gave it to her, still clinging to your mother. “But my family calls me Sugar Plum.”

“Sugar Plum?” Nat hummed, cocking her head to the side in thought. “Like the fairies?”

You perked up at her words, letting go of your mother’s pant leg and stepping forward.

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I wanna be in the ballet!”

“You dance?” She asked, eyes growing wide as you nodded. “That’s so cool! Come on, I wanna tell Bradley and Reuben!”

You followed after her, giggling. You turned just long enough to wave goodbye to your mother before running off after Nat who introduced you to the two boys.

The little group had adopted you quickly, and the years passed with them by your side. They came to every dance recital you had, cheering you on as best they could, and every cancelled weekend plan was forgiven as you chased your dream of making it big as a dancer.

“There’s always next time,” Nat had assured you while Bradley and Reuben nodded alongside her.

“Chase your dreams, SP,” Reuben had grinned.

“We’ll be waiting for you on the other side,” Bradley had tossed in, ruffling your hair.

You couldn’t have asked for better friends, truly.

And then it had all come crashing down. The memory of the spotlight on you, standing on the stage and being unable to move, the tears that had streamed down your face as you stared into a wall of darkness. The unseen eyes that stared back at you before you ran off the stage.

It had been humiliating, and it had been your friends who had helped you pick up the pieces afterwards.

“You don’t have to try again now,” Nat had assured you, wiping your tears when they fell. You had all been gathered in your room a couple of days after the incident, you in your pajamas and buried under piles of blankets. “It’s okay to take the time to rest.”

“Who needs to go to a fancy school, anyway?” Bradley had smiled, hugging you close into his side. “You don’t need someone else to tell you how good you are.”

“Dopey here has a point,” Reuben added, earning a scowl from the other man. “You’re amazing, SP. We’ve known that all along. You just gotta be the one to realize it now.”

Their words still echoed in your mind months later. Since that day, you had gotten a quiet, part-time job at your beloved bookstore, working under the watchful eye of Pete Mitchell.

“Call me Mav or Maverick,” he had smiled at you when he offered you the job, and you had agreed with the condition that he call you by your nickname as well. Maverick was a kind, older man. A local who had left for decades before coming back.

“What did you do while you were away?” You asked him one day. You had dreamed of leaving the small town too, one day, but that dream seemed so far away now. He hummed, thumbing through an ancient-looking book. The ink was fading against the yellowed pages, but there was an air of mystery surrounding the tome.

“I did several things,” he answered, glancing up at you. “Learned lots of things. Maybe one day I’ll teach you.”

Maverick was a strange, old man.

You weren’t the only one that worked at the bookstore. Maverick had three attendants that worked in the store with you, and they were an odd bunch to be sure. There was Jake, a handsome blond with a cocky smile. He was a man who was sure of himself, and more than once he had tried to woo you with all kinds of flowers and one liners. Next was Javy, a stoic charmer whose smile felt like you were bathing in the sun. He was the most levelheaded out of the three and the one you went to when you needed help with a project. Last, was Mickey. Mickey appeared to be the closest in age to you with a grin always on his face as he hopped around the store. He was also the most animated of the three, reminding you of a puppy with his seemingly endless amounts of energy.

The three seemed normal enough, but odd as well. One or more of them would often pop up out of nowhere, sending you into near cardiac arrest a number of times. There were times where you’d catch Jake talking to the plants around the store, and you would almost swear you’d see the plant perk up as he crooned at them. Then there was the time Javy got so mad at Jake after the blond had “forgotten” to do the dusting for the fifth time that week, and you swear the gust of wind that followed was calculated. Or the time that you heard Mickey sneeze followed by Jake shouting, “dammit, Mickey!” You had rounded the corner to find the brunette grimacing sheepishly as Jake frantically slapped out the smoldering document. It wasn’t until later that you realized that there hadn’t been a candle in sight.

Yes, they were an odd bunch to be sure, but you were very fond of them.

“What are you three doing hanging around an old bookstore like this, anyway?” You had asked them one day. Mickey had perked up from where he was looking over a book that had seen better days, grinning at you wildly.

“Oh, we’re his apprentices!” He laughed. “He’s teaching us ma-”

“How to manage books,” Javy interrupted, stepping over and placing a hand at the base of Mickey’s neck. Mickey winced, scowling up at the larger man. “Maverick is teaching us how to take care of all of the older books here.”

“I see,” you hummed as Mickey shrugged the other man off, shooting him a glare before fixing his gaze back on you. “What got you into old books then?”

“What’s not to like about old books?” Jake grinned, leaning forward and shooting you a wink. “There’s so much magic in them, isn’t there?”

Javy shot him a warning look as you fixed the blond with a blank stare.

“I didn’t know you knew how to read,” you mused, turning back to the stack of books you were cataloging in the computer. Javy let out a booming laugh as the grin on Jake’s face dropped. Mickey snickered as you fought back a smirk at the dumbfounded look on the blond’s face. Jake recovered quickly, the grin easing back onto his face.

“I’m full of surprises, dewdrop,” he winked. You rolled your eyes as you continued with your work, the telltale sound of Maverick’s shoes clacking against the hardwood. He rounded the corner from the back, staring at your small group.

“I need you three to follow me,” he said, gesturing to the boys as he turned back the way he came. You sighed, waving the trio off as they bid you goodbye. It was late, and you doubted they’d make another appearance before the end of your shift. Oftentimes when Maverick came to fetch them, they’d disappear for hours, and sometimes you wouldn’t even see them for days. You thought it odd, initially, but you learned to not question it. You were thankful to have a job with enough hours to keep you busy, and Maverick paid you well for the seemingly inconsequential work that you did around the shop.

Once the three men disappeared beyond the back door, Maverick poked his head back around the doorframe.

“SP?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you go on ahead and head home for the night?” He suggested, smiling warmly. “The weather is supposed to get bad here soon, and I don’t like the thought of you being out there in it by yourself. You can go ahead and lock the shop up behind you.”

“Okay, Mav,” you smiled, setting the stack of books to the side as he nodded and once again disappeared behind the door.

You made sure things were closed up the way they needed to be, double checking to make sure that the backdoor was locked before grabbing your coat, scarf, and gloves. You peaked out the window to see that the snow was already starting to fall onto the quiet street outside, and you stopped to admire the stillness that seemed so otherworldly. Winter had always been your favorite time of year. You loved the snow, the laughter, ice skating, and how warm everything felt despite the frigid temperatures. Winter was finally here.

You made sure to tuck your ears beneath your hat, pulling your scarf up around your face as you exited the shop, the bell signaling your departure. With key in hand, you locked the door, giving it a tug to make sure that it was in place before starting the ten minute walk down the street to your home. The frigid air kissed at your cheeks, bringing warmth to the surface as you continued to trek through the heavy falling snow. A chill ran up your spine, and you stopped in your tracks, feeling eyes on you. You whirled around, looking for any sign of life as you stood alone on the street. Most everyone else was at home, snug underneath their blankets or by their fireplaces, and not a soul could be seen from where you were standing. This happened to you often, this feeling of being watched. You had felt it since you were a little girl. Sometimes it wasn’t too bad, like the feeling of a guardian angel watching over you and keeping you safe. But other times, times like this? The feeling was sinister, like whatever it was that was watching you would devour you whole.

You drew your coat tighter around your shivering form, turning back towards the way home. You had gotten good at walking home quickly over the years, but you always wondered if there was a reason for your rush of adrenaline. You hoped you never found out.

Bob followed Tom towards the bookshop, the sign on the front already reading, “sorry, we’re closed!” Bob frowned. He was hoping he could have seen you before you left, but perked up when he remembered that he would see you soon, and this time you would be able to see him.

Tom stopped in front of the wooden door, knocking three times and waiting. A figure appeared from the depths of the shop, walking up to the door and peering out the glass. Tom waited patiently as the man on the other side unlocked the door, opening it with a warm smile.

“Tom,” he greeted, pulling the winter spirit into a hug. Tom chuckled, patting the man on the back.

“Maverick,” he smiled, pulling back and gesturing towards the younger sprite. “This is Bob.”

The man, Maverick, fixed his gaze on Bob, studying him for a moment before smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said with a nod in his direction. He stepped back to allow enough room for the two men to enter. “Come in. The others are already in the back.”

The others? Bob frowned at that, but followed Tom into the building nonetheless. The two waited for Maverick to lock the door behind them before leading them behind the counter and into the back. The three men walked down a flight of stairs that led into a spacious room lined with bookshelves. Three other men stood in the room, their faces lifting at the sight of the joining men. Bob instantly recognized them as fellow sprites, albeit different from him, and his curiosity was piqued as he glanced between Maverick and Tom.

“What? Did you want to collect the whole set, Mav?” the blond joked, eyeing Bob with a wicked grin, green eyes sparkling with mischief. A spring spirit, no doubt. Maverick chuckled as the winter spirits followed him to the center of the room, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

“Nothing like that, Jake,” he smiled. “Just doing a favor for an old friend, is all.”

“So how do we fit in to this favor?” Chirped the smaller of the three, bouncing from one foot to the other. An autumn sprite, maybe?

“We’re going to do a spell,” Maverick continued, moving over towards the far wall where a desk sat. He picked up one of the heavy tomes, turning around to face the group once again. “A spell that requires ancient magic, and lots of it.”

“And what’s more ancient than the seasons?” Hummed the last of the spirits, his eyes still trained on Bob and Tom. Bob could feel the warmth radiating off of him from across the room. No doubt a summer sprite.

“That’s right,” Maverick smiled, glancing up at the summer sprite. “And as my apprentices, I’ll need your help with it. Yours too, Tom, if you don’t mind.”

The old, winter spirit smiled good-naturedly, watching as Maverick began to place candles around the edges of a chalk circle in the center of the room. Once they were placed to his liking, he turned to Bob, gesturing towards the center of the elaborate design.

“Bob, if you wouldn’t mind standing in the center here.”

Bob did as instructed, eyeing everyone wearily until his eyes landed on Tom. He nodded, giving the young man a reassuring smile that served to put his mind at ease.

“Alright then,” Maverick mumbled, scanning the text of the book in his hand. “I’ll need the rest of you at the cardinal positions.”

The spirits moved to their respective decisions. To the south, summer. To the east, spring. To the west, autumn. And finally, Tom took his position at north, waiting for his friend to continue.

“Bob.”

The winter sprite turned to look at Maverick who had a gentle smile on his face.

“Do you understand what you’re getting into?” He asked, eyes flickering to Tom for the briefest of seconds. “You’ll have until the end of the season to make the spell permanent. That means you have to earn the love of another human. If you don’t, you’ll turn back into your original form permanently. Do you understand?”

Bob nodded firmly, thinking of you. He wanted you to see him, to feel for him what he felt for you. He would show you how much he loved you, and he would convince you to feel the same way.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like you already have someone in mind,” the warlock continued. If Bob could blush, he would have, but instead he gave the man a bashful look. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he spoke, pushing his shoulders back and puffing his chest out. He was sure about you. Maverick looked at him for another moment before nodding, turning his attention to the other men in the room.

“I need you all to concentrate your magic onto him,” he instructed. The four men nodded, gathering their magic around them. Bob felt a strange hum fill the air as Maverick began to read out the text from the book. It wasn’t in any language Bob had ever heard of, but he was fairly young compared to some of the other sprites. He could feel the energy start to swirl around him as a strange feeling coursed through his veins. It was hard to describe what he was feeling, but Bob likened it to the feeling of melting snow, like warmth coursing through him for the first time in his existence. He felt the air leave him as the energy buzzed louder and louder, Maverick’s chanting growing distant as Bob was forced to his knees. His fingers clutched at the ground as his vision blurred, his head pounding from the force of the magic that encapsulated him. He gasped for breath, blue eyes meeting the wise ones of Tom as they watched him worriedly. Bob closed his eyes as the spell tore apart his very being, stitching him back together into something new. It felt like hours passed, but it had surely only been a few minutes.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. An eerie calm filled the room as Maverick collapsed into the chair behind him, the three younger sprites, falling to their own knees. Only Tom stood unaffected, his age and power protecting him from the draining spell. Maverick pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at his sweaty brow, looking much paler than he had minutes before.

“It’s done,” he murmured, closing the tome with a definite thud.

Tag List: @seresinsbrat @fanficfandomlove @bobgasm @goldenseresinretriever @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @theamuz @rosedurin @kmc1989 @linkpk88 @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum @topherwrites @lightdragonrayne @number-0-iz @princessofglitterland @agentorange9595 @reidshearts @pittbull-enthusiast @shinycupcakebaker @smileybouquet @els-marvelvsp @shotgunhallelujah @mycobrakai1972

[sebsxphia]

“who hurt you?”

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: you disclose to bob about a previous relationship and bob makes it his mission for you to feel safe and loved again.

￫ word count: 1.9K.

￫ c/w: mentions of past abusive relationships, mentions of traumatic memories, mentions of sexual assault, vomiting, angst, swearing, kissing, beginnings of smut with bob, nipple touching and kissing, praise, fluffy and soft ending. bob is a big softie who wants to protect you.

￫ a/n: i’ve wanted to write this for some time now. it’s something that i hold dear to me and it’s helped me process and deal with my own trauma. a little form of therapy if you may!! i understand this topic is heavy, but i wanted to share this as it helped me and i hope it can help others. if i missed any content warnings, please let me know. if you want to talk about anything, my inbox and dm’s are always open and i’m always here to listen <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob Floyd was a patient man. In fact, he was the most patient man you had ever met. If the barista got his order wrong for the second time, he shook his head and wouldn’t accept their apology because it simply wasn’t their fault and he would be happy to wait for another. If he was walking behind an elderly couple in the supermarket, he would trail behind them and stop for as long as they did by the pasta options. If you dropped your favorite mug and you were sobbing in his arms, he would cradle you until your tears subsided and he’d offer to purchase a new mug, specially from him.

Therefore, he was patient with you when you couldn’t find the words to tell him who the guy was you saw crossing the street in front of you.

“Darlin’, you practically froze up. I could feel your heart pounding through my hand.”

“Please, Bobby. Please can we go home?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

During the first months of your relationship the sex with Bob came naturally and willfully. He was incredible. He was so fucking incredible and you craved his touch more and more. But one thing you couldn’t work out is if you craved his touch because it made little whimpers fall from your lips, or because you needed it for security.

However, the thick haze from your previous relationship was wearing off with each passing day. Feelings and emotions you had pushed deep down had the lid thrown off and they were slowing seeping out. Like a leaking tap getting looser and looser, and one day, it was inevitably going to burst.

Memories from the relationship started to come back and flood your mind. Horrible situations you had all but forgotten suddenly arose to the forefront and you caught yourself crying over the kitchen sink at night before Bob came home on multiple occasions.

Although you loved your dear Bobby and you trusted him with your heart and soul, physical sensations started to catch you off guard and your mind reversed back to your previous relationship. Bob ghosted his fingertips over your breasts, running his thumb and forefinger over your nipples and you instinctively brought your forearms over your breasts as to cover yourself. To protect yourself from harm.

You stood in the shower with Bob and he towered over you and gripped feverishly onto your shoulders. Bob pushed you against the wet shower tiles to press kisses all over your collarbones and breasts and you instinctively repeated the same protective motion as before. You ducked your head to cradle him upwards and kiss you instead. You wanted to guide Bob away from there, away from the area that you recognized only as painful.

You both came home from a date night. You were a bottle of wine down between the two of you and your messy make out ended with both of you falling onto the sofa in a heap with limbs tangling up in each other. Bob broke from the teeth clashing kiss to hurriedly remove his trousers as he knelt in between your spread thighs. He threw his trousers haphazardly behind your head, aiming for the end of the sofa however, his sturdy belt got caught in your hair and your head was whipped to the side.

The leaking tap had finally burst.

Your arms shot up to cover your breasts and you felt a bile pool deep in your stomach. You wanted to be sick. You’d never felt such nausea and quicker than you could catch your breath, you were craning your neck over the sofa and spewing up the bile.

Bob yelled your name in fear and scrambled from his position to hold back your hair that had already caught some of your sick. One of Bob’s hands cradled your head so you were able to vomit without anything getting caught in your throat.

The next moments were a blurred and slurred memory. Your shaking frame was lifted from the sofa and carried gently upstairs. Bob was careful not to knock any part of your body on the way up, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. You could feel the soft linen bedsheets underneath your legs, the same ones Bob changed fresh this morning. Your ears picked up the sound of Bob running the tap in your en-suite and then you felt the cold water drip down your throat, covering the burning acidity and cooling it.

And then you came to, as if you had woken up from a horrid and violent nightmare. You were pressed against Bob’s bare chest and it was warm. It was so warm. The skin on skin contact with Bob soothed you, like applying ointment to a cruel and nasty burn that was blistering harshly. His arms were locked around your torso and shoulders, holding you against him. There was a soothing rocking motion and his fingers were sporadically spread over your back, drawing lazy shapes. Occasionally you felt his fingers cut through your hair and graze over your temple.

You never told Bob about your previous relationship and you couldn’t face it right now. You couldn’t bare to disclose the gory details to someone as sweet and as soft as Bob. He didn’t deserve to hear those vile things. Perhaps you had rationalized in your head that it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be and you were just over reacting. That what you thought had happened, hadn’t, and you were never hurt in the first place. And lastly, you didn’t want to burden Bob with such minimal issues.

But your Bob, your dear and loving Bob could see straight through the wall of illusion you held up and he knew you were hurting.

Bob craned his head down to match your gaze, your eyelashes fluttering open as if you were blinking away the glassy look you’d held for the past thirty minutes.

“There you are, my love.”

“What happened?”

“You kinda just- just passed out. You were still conscious, but your whole body went limp. Vomited a bit too.”

Your eyes went wide and you swallowed at Bob’s startling words, recognizing the acidic taste that lined your throat. You stirred from Bob’s tight hold. You needed to get up and clean it.

“Hey, hey. Stay here, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Bob nuzzled his nose against your forehead as you came back to rest on his chest. He could feel your tight back muscles release underneath him as you relaxed against him. He removed one hand from your back to nimbly tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He kept his hand there and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over the rise of your supple cheek. You looked up at Bob and matched his safe blue eyes. Crystal clear blue eyes that would protect you until you took your final breath.

“Talk to me.” Bob murmured. His voice was an octave above a whisper and his Southern drawl peeked out.

“I- I don’t know where to start.”

“Tell me what you remember. I’ll always listen to you.”

Amongst Bob’s many traits that made him a good Navy pilot, good enough to fly for Top Gun, one of them was that he could people watch and read people notoriously well. That’s how he came to notice you for the first time in a coffee shop just outside of Fightertown. Bob sat in the corner ignoring his team mates conversations and zoned in on you instead, the sweetheart sat in the opposite corner to him.

Bob had a sixth sense for noticing little details that most people would miss, therefore he became incredibly attentive to watching you from day one. He watched your little quirks as you flipped through your book, occasionally annotating it, the way you sipped the same side of your coffee cup every time.

He watched you when you physically recoiled, your face contorting into a painful wince as you saw that stranger crossing the street in front of you a couple of months ago. Bob was a man of patience and he understood that he had to earn your trust, that right, that privilege for you to tell him.

“Who hurt you, sweetheart? Was it him?”

But Bobby already knew. He knew the bitter answer that caused a sickness to swirl like a horrid and devastating ocean storm in his stomach.

“Did he touch you? Did he fucking touch you?”

Bob’s voice didn’t get louder. How could he ever be angry at you. It wasn’t your fault. It never was.

Your lip wobbled, your chin quivering in turn and the glassy gaze of your eyes shattered as tears broke the corners of your eyes and streamed over your cheeks. You buried your face back into Bob’s shoulder, encompassing yourself in his radiating warmth and inhaling his familiar scent of peppermint and lavender. Bob returned to the soothing rocking motion as your body was wracked with shaking sobs in Bob’s arms.

“Shh, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe with me. I’ll never hurt you, ever, darlin’.”

You let out another shaky breath and scrunched up the soft blanket that was lying underneath you with your quivering hands. Bob had ensured the tone and environment was calm and safe for you tonight. There was a velvety soft blanket underneath your naked body, one that you could wrap around your arms or stomach when you felt vulnerable underneath Bob.

Candles were lit in your shared bedroom, emitting low lighting and smells that flooded your nostrils and relaxed you into your plush mattress. A playlist you both conjured up was playing quietly in the corner. Music you could draw your attention back to and focus on if you felt your mind start to drift back to memories more sinister. The duvet and pillows were covered in fresh linen that smelt like your sweet Bobby.

Bob carefully ghosted his fingertips over yours as they held tightly onto the blanket. He took your hands in his and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“Keep your eyes on me if you can, sweetheart. Remember, I’m going to tell you everything I’m doing. You can use your safe word at any time, even now if you wanted to.”

You gave him a small nod and Bob gave your hands another light squeeze.

“Words, my love. I need to know.”

It was part of your agreement. The agreement and conversation you had sometime after that night when you told Bob everything. You wanted to have sex with your Bobby again, more than anything, but you knew it would take some coaxing from yourself. So you both agreed on what you needed to feel safe again, to feel loved again. Communication and Bob hearing you say “yes” or “no” was part of it.

“Yes, baby. I hear you. Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

You could feel a small flurry of butterflies work through your stomach at Bob’s sweet praise. You’d missed him dearly and you were excited at the prospect of making love to him again.

Bob’s hands still held onto yours and you could feel his familiar warmth radiate through your own fingertips. Bob brought your hands up to his chest and placed your hands on his own chest. Bob hovered over you and you could feel his heartbeat thrumming away rhythmically underneath his rib cage.

You took a deep breath. You allowed your breathing to flow and match up to Bob’s.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. All you could feel was Bob’s steady and reassuring heartbeat and his comforting warmth.

You were home and you were safe.

[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!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm waiting for you to thank me."

Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.

"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.

Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"

Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.

"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"

He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.

"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.

"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."

It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.

Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.

"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.

"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."

He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"

"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."

"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?

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

Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.

"Take some leftovers!"

"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.

"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."

Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."

"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."

She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."

He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying. 

"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.

When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"

"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.

"After you," he said softly. 

Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.

Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself? 

She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.

He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.

Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."

The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding. 

When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"

She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."

He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.

Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"

"Please."

Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."

She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.

The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.

Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.

When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder. 

She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."

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

It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.

"Bob."

Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend. 

She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.

"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad. 

"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."

She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."

In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.

He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.

But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him. 

"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.

"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."

"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"

Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room. 

Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."

"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."

Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.

He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."

"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.

"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."

Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"

"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."

Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."

"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."

Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."

"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.

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

Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.

This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.

She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.

After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.

It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime. 

Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.

"She's got her head in the clouds again."

Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs. 

"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."

"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."

Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."

"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."

"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.

"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."

Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.

"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.

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

Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information. 

"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"

"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."

"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."

"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."

Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes. 

The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.

But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.

It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.

The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Webber."

The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.

"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.

She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."

"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.

"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.

"Of course they are."

Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."

"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."

Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."

The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone. 

Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.

"Anna."

All that did was make her kiss him harder again.

"Please."

All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.

But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."

"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."

"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs. 

Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."

She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."

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

But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[withahappyrefrain]

I’m just saying, Bob + taking off his wife’s shoes for her after a long day 🌻💛

This man makes me so lovesick, it's ridiculous. Here's something that I hope you can indulge in, sweet @spidervee

"Darlin'?" Bob's sweet voice called out from the kitchen.

"It's just me, love!" You responded as you put your keys on the key rack. The soft fur of your cats, Pastrami and Lox, brushed against your ankles as they greeted you.

Normally you would kneel down to pet them, but that was pretty hard with your stomach now a days.

It felt like all you did was look over at the nearby chair and Bob was suddenly in the living room.

"Hey Darlin'," he whispered before pressing a kiss to your cheek. His long fingers traced over your face, his cobalt eyes taking you in.

"Long day?" Bob asked, taking your work bag off your shoulder.

"I'm thirty-two weeks along with twins. Everyday is a long day," you chuckled, though it didn't make the look of concern on your husband's face disappear.

"C'mon, let's get you to the couch." One of his hands was now on the small of your back, the other grasping your hand as he guided you to the living room.

"Robby, I need to-"

"Dinner's in the oven. You can tell me all about your day while we sit on the couch, 'kay?" You knew better than to argue with your husband. Bob wasn't necessarily stubborn, but he had his way of guiding you to what was the better choice. He never made you feel small or childlike, and always kept in mind what you were comfortable with.

He quickly fluffed the pillows on your couch before you laid down, Bob pulling your feet into his lap.

"What are you- Robby!" You tried to sound irritated, but how could you when your husband was taking off your shoes and looking at you with those baby blue eyes (that you desperately hoped your children would inherit)?

It was impossible, especially when he flashed you that sweet, albeit slightly crooked smile of his.

Bob shrugged, "What? You said it was a long day! I'm just trying to help my beautiful wife and mother of my children."

Normally you'd scold your husband. You were pregnant, and yes, carrying twins was more difficult than carrying just one baby. But that didn't mean Bob had to do everything for you, like taking off your shoes.

But then your husband's magical fingers began massaging your swollen feet, and how could you complain about that when it was the first time you felt relief all day?

You couldn't. So instead, you sunk into the couch as the tension left your body. It made it easier to recount today's events at work and how your "morning except not really because it can happen anytime of the day" sickness lead you to almost throwing up in the middle of a meeting.

Bob leaned forward, his head hovering over your growing stomach.

"Are you two givin' your mama a hard time? Thought we talked about that." Bob shook his head in mock disappointment. A smile adored his handsome features at the sound of your laughter.

He looked up, eyes bright, beaming, and just so full of love for you. It took your breath away.

Bob's smile quickly disappeared, worry taking its place upon seeing your eyes begin to well up with tears.

"Darlin', what's wrong? You okay?" His low and gentle voice made it worse.

"I want," you sniffled, "I want to kiss you but I can't get up."

Bob did everything he could not to chuckle at your adorable pout. Instead, he got up from the couch, moving to where your head laid against one of your many pillows.

He flashed a sweet smile before leaning his head down to press his lips against yours. A content hum left your lips as your arms wrapped themselves around your husband's neck, keeping him in place.

"Better?" Bob asked softly, his lips grazing over yours.

You nodded before capturing his lips again, his large hands gently cupping your face.

"Can we stay here for a little bit?" You asked softly.

Bob chuckled, "We can do whatever you want Mama Bear."

[intoanotherworld23]

Taken For A Ride

Pairing: Reader x Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Warnings: NFSW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is smut and sex, sex in a car, sex in public, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swear words

Summary: Bob wants to give you a friendly reminder that your his, and his car is the perfect place

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are much encouraged! I would love to hear back from everyone on what they think of this! If you wish to be added to my Lewis tag list please let me know and I would be happy to add you don’t hesitate to ask! Thank you guys so much! Also shout out to @bradshawsbitch for the GIF cause oh lord I was panting like a bitch in heat🥵🥵

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Shhh baby not too loud. Don't want anyone to hear us do you?" His question what rhetorical in fact he did want you to be loud so someone did hear what he was doing to you.

Legs on either side of Bobs hips your hands placed on the leather head rest behind him. Your dress bunched up around your waist panties pulled to the side as you rode Bobs cock. His hands on your hips holding onto you.

"Could spend my entire life inside of your little pussy." He growled into your ear making you whimper as he smirked against your skin loving the affect he had on you.

Bob loved the dress that you were wearing admiring how it fit around your body. So did other guys tonight, and it made him extremely jealous. That’s when he dragged you off to show you to who you belong to.

Plus Bob has always wanted to have sex in his car. The parking lot was basically dead so he took the opportunity while he had it. Everyone was inside getting drunk, and knew it was the perfect opportunity.

"I wish you could admire my view right now fucking stunning." He breathed out the last two words like he was almost struggling to say them.

His strong hands gripping your hips squeezing the flesh between his fingers. He would look up from your face to your connecting bodies watching as his cock was disappearing inside of you.

Your backside hitting the horn making it go off causing you two to laugh. Not even stopping your movements not really caring if anyone say you riding Bob.

Moving your hips up and down sliding along his cock as fast as you could. His hands guiding your hips up and down on him. Your walls squeezing around his cock making him groan. Bobs glasses fogging up so easily from the heat between you both.

"Such a good girl letting me fuck you in my car knowing anyone could see." He teased you a smirk appearing on his face making you giggle at his playful tone. "Naughty girl."

Both of you staring into each other's eyes making it a more intimate moment. He wanted to watch your face as you came undone on his cock. Your facial expressions alone turning him on.

The spaghetti strap of your dress sliding down your arm too lazy to pull it back up. If anything Bob pulled it down more along with the strap of your bra.  His eyes becoming darker as he watched your breasts pop out.

"God you drive me wild Y/N." His voice strained almost like he was holding back.

His lips attached themselves so your nipple sucking on the nub while he was pounding his cock up into you intensifying the feeling. Your entire body shaking as you felt your skin burning with euphoria.

"Oh god Bob." You whined feeling your legs already getting tired and shaky from riding him.

Hearing you whine his name gave him the go to drive  his hips up wildly into you. Your whole body was shaking and moving along with him. His cock fitting so snug inside you like it was made for you. 

Your head reeled back in ecstasy hands clawing at the leather seats. Your arousal was coating his cock making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

His lips left your nipple and moved up towards your neck kissing the flesh. Sucking on the skin making blood rise to the surface marking his territory. Bob was a sucker for marking what was his. He loved even more especially when you showed it off.

“You’re all mine sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” Not that you were worried about anyone else or wanted anyone else.

His teeth nibbling on your neck making you gasp. The windows in the car were fogging up making it even harder for anyone to see you. Not that that would have stopped either of you. If anything it would have pushed Bob to keep going to everyone could physically see who you belonged to.

Your cheeks were starting to heat up, and you were feeling flushed. In this moment all you felt was Bob and no matter how many times you guys had sex you could never get used to the feeling of his cock.

His cock hit your sweet spot making you scream. Finding that spot he was relentless and continued to hit it over and over again. His hands gripped onto your hips so hard they would probably bruise.

"Oh god I love your cock Bob." You mewled closing your eyes. "Keep going right there."

"I wanna feel you cum all over my cock darlin." He snarled into your skin holding your body even closer to his trying to hit up into an angle that would have you seeing stars.

Your toes were curling and you could feel your pussy walls squeezing the life out of his cock as you released. A couple more thrusts and Bob was squirting his cum inside you. Your head leaned forward on his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

Bobs forehead was drenched in sweat and his arms were shaking still holding your trembling body. Both of you still trying to climb down from your intense high.

Pushing your head back you both looked at each other and just bursted out laughing. The mere fact you two just had hot sex in his car, and the fact someone could have caught you. Bob was always hot for you, and quite frankly didn't care if anyone caught you.

"From now on we are having sex in my car." Playfully smacking his arm as he attached his lips to yours.

——————————————

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[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-2

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff, lil bit of Angst with Bob's sad boi hours

Word Count: 539

Author's Note: Here's the next part and I hope you guys like it! For fun there's a small Taylor Swift song reference in this. Leave in the comments what's your guess!

“Since when did you move into a greenhouse?” Bradley questioned while trying to avoid the multiple bouquets and plants surrounding Bob’s apartment. Every open counter space was filled with almost every flower under the sun. 

“Or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Bob, what’s going on?” Natasha replied while glancing over at him. Bob didn’t know how to explain that he had been going to the florist shop every day for almost two weeks. Every time he walked in he told himself he would ask for the owner’s number and then a date but instead he walked out with a new leafy friend. He just couldn’t build up the courage to tell her he was there for her and not for a bouquet for his coworker’s sister’s baby shower (that was a lie.) It all boiled down to the simple fact that Bob tried to work up the guts to ask her but once he set his sights on her it was like his brain turned to mush. He was a goddamn WSO for the Navy and one woman made all that precision and expertise go down the drain.

“Well, there’s this woman I-”

“Woman?! Damn Bob I didn’t even know you were talking to other women besides Nat he–Ow!” Bradley immediately interrupted before Bob could finish his sentence. 

“Let Bob finish idiot,” the interruption led to Natasha hitting Bradley on the head. “Sorry, Bob continue what you were saying.”

“The woman is the owner of the florist shop I went to for Maverick. And for the past two weeks, I've tried to get her number but every time I just clam up.” Bob looked down at his shoes feeling defeated about his woes. He felt like at this point should he even try again. Natasha sensing this went over to Bob and gave him a pat on his shoulder.

“How about we help you, Bob? Do you need some practice? Or maybe tips?”

“How about an entirely new personal–Ow!”Natasha glared at Bradley which shut him up rather quickly after smacking his head again.

“No thanks, guys. I think I might give up on her.”

“Give up? Bob why would you give up!? You’re a WSO in the Navy for God's sake! Bradley and I both know that you can do anything you put your mind to.” Natasha said while resting her hand on Bob’s shoulder.

“Nat, I’ve literally tried to ask her for two weeks. I think I'll look crazy if I continue to go buy flowers I don't need.” 

“How about we come with you next time? Isn’t the shop also an apothecary? I’ve been wanting to check it for a while.”

“You really would do that for me?” Bob looked at both of them with surprise. He didn’t think that his coworkers would help him like this. Well, Bradley might make fun of him for a little bit longer but Bob knew that he cared. 

“Of course lover boy! Let’s get you that phone number and maybe more.” Bradley replied with a humorous smile on his face.

“Thank guys.” Bob smiles with a twinkle in his eyes like looked like stars. Maybe this would work. Maybe he could finally have something good happen in his life. 

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