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roosterforme · 1 day
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Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 4700 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!
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Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.
Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.
She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 
"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 
She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. Longing whispers in the shadows of my heart, Desire ignites a flame that burns so deep, Devotion woven into every breath I take, Love that knows no boundaries, no end. Passion pulses through my veins like a wild river, Binding me to you in a dance of fire, In this symphony of emotions, we find our truth, A love that transcends time, space, and doubt.
Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 
"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 
It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.
When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 
"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 
At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.
Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 
"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.
The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 
"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"
"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 
"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.
Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 
"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."
"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"
Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."
She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.
"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 
"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"
"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"
Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."
Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."
Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.
"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."
"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 
There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."
Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."
Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"
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"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."
Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 
"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 
"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."
His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.
I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.
This is Anna, by the way.
I should have started with that information.
Wow. This is already embarrassing.
Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."
He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."
"Good night, Robert."
Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 
I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.
He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.
Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)
Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.
The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.
That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 
Did I miss anything?
He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.
Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?
Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.
Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.
Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.
He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 
Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.
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Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.
She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 
"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 
When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 
"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 
Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 
Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 
Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.
I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 
When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.
Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.
Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 
"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.
Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.
She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.
Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.
"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.
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Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"
"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"
He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."
She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."
"Too late."
She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."
Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.
Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"
He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."
"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."
"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."
When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."
"You keep saying 'next time'."
Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."
"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."
She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 
"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 
He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."
Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."
"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 
"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.
Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."
"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"
"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."
Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.
"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."
When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.
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When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 
She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.
She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Withing minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 
"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 
She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 
The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.
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Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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sorchathered · 2 days
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As you wish
Summary- Bob, Mickey and their girlfriends go on an adventure to the local renaissance faire, but how can Bob be expected to keep his hands or thoughts to himself when you look like the fairy princess of his wildest dreams?
Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader
Warnings- language, drinking, smut, knife play if you squint.
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It was probably the hottest day of the summer, but that hadn’t deterred any of you from gearing up in your painstakingly hand crafted costumes and caravanning down the highway to Escondido for the Renaissance festival. Fanboy and his girlfriend and you and your newly minted fiancée Robert Floyd had been playing dnd with a group in Coronado for about 2 years now, that’s how all of you had met. You were putting signs up for the new campaign at the library, and Bob happened upon the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, feet carrying him to the bulletin board before his brain caught up with what he was doing. He’d been shy but charming, and you had enthusiastically convinced him to join your group later in the week to try it out. He’d never played before but he new for sure that Mickey had, so with a little (a lot) of begging and promises to buy his beers at the Hard Deck that weekend, the both of them turned up at the community center in Coronado to join the band of misfits they would soon call a second family.
It had turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made if he was honest, the two of you had gone out for coffee after the first meeting and had been inseparable ever since. Two years later and he would follow you anywhere, you were quite literally like a fairy, full of bright energy, quick witted and downright ethereal with your wide shining eyes and angelic features, he truly didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. You’d kept your costume a secret all month, carefully curating little bits and pieces and as you crossed the threshold into your bedroom he had the thought to just stay home and ravish you all day. A beautiful green peasant dress was split at the hip, the skirt frilly and flowing down past your knees, with a beautiful laced up corset starting at your waist and pushing your cleavage impossibly high on your chest, he was definitely salivating and couldn’t seem to snap out of his trance until you skipped over and tapped his nose. “Hmm? What? I’m sorry baby, what did you say?” He wasn’t subtle at all and you giggled as you leaned into him to pepper kisses along his cheeks and slotting yourself between his thighs. “I take it you like what you see my strong, powerful warlock…buuuut I don’t think we have time for what you have in mind so get dressed handsome it’s time to go!” You say with a laugh as you step out of his arms and skitter down the hall with a cackle. Good Lord, he was going to lose his mind watching you all day, as he heaved himself off the bed he heard you holler down the hallway, “oh and baby just wait until you see my wings!” He groaned again at the thought and trudged to the bathroom to take an ice cold shower, grumbling about his temptress fairy princess and how he’d rather stay home.
You couldn’t have had a better time if you tried, somehow you and Mickey’s girlfriend Lana had convinced the boys to dress up as well, and you both had to admit there was something to be said about watching them walk around in billowy shirts looking like they’d just stepped out of a Tolkien novel. The boys were having the time of their lives, drinking ale from giant wooden tankards and consuming their weight in turkey legs, while the two of you girls bought glittery potion bottles and crystal necklaces from the local vendors. Finally heading home as the sun went down you peeked through the rear view at the drunken rogue and warlock passed out in your backseat and giggled, you just hoped Bob would be alert enough for what you had planned for the evening when you got home.
After safely depositing Lana and Mickey at home, your knight in shining armor clambered into the front seat, bright eyes full of mirth as he looked you over, his fingers had been itching to loosen your corset strings all day and if he was honest he was a little hard at the thought of letting you ride him with nothing but your fairy wings on. You fortunately were on the same page, impatiently ushering him through the doorway and down the hall as you groped at him and sucked on his tongue, you’d always wanted to role play as your characters but had been too scared to ask, but now looking at Bob’s flushed cheeks as he toyed with the laces of your corset you knew he was absolutely into this.
“Can I help you handsome? See something you like?” You said as you turned in his arms, looking up at him through your lashes and rubbing your body all over his. “Fu- I- I see a lot of things that I like my lady, think you should show me what’s hiding under this gown, can’t be too careful can I? Fairies are known for their trickery.” He says as he leans in to suck a mark behind your ear and begins unlacing your corset, tantalizingly slow as he continues to nibble at your neck and collarbone, nimble fingers untangling the laces and smoothing over exposed skin as your dress begins to loosen and slip from your frame. “I don’t know what you mean sir, we fairies are a peaceful lot, I would be a fool to try and get the upper hand on such a strong, powerful warlock such as you” you say with a cheeky grin, sliding the dagger you’d bought today from your thigh holster and pressing it into his side. “Hmmf, exactly like I said, tricky business dealing with fairies” he huffed out a laugh and raised his hands, letting you lower him to his knees in front of you. You switched to your normal voice as you lifted his chin, stroking the stubble that you always loved him to have on the weekends. “What’s your color baby?” “Green, so so fucking green, You’re a dream come true you know that?” He said as he smoothed calloused palms across the back of your thighs, taking your thumb into his mouth and sucking it, drawing a whimper from you as you nodded furiously at him.
“If you wanted to check me for weapons all you needed to do was ask, but since I have you on your knees, why don’t you put that smart mouth to task on something useful” you said you hooked your leg over his shoulder and pulled him close to your core, as fun as the banter had been you were wound up and needed him to touch you. He ran his nose along your underwear, teasing you with little nips to the side of your thighs and pulled back to look at you again, disappointment crossed your features and he chuckled and pinched your ass from under your skirt. “I think you might want to roll for persuasion sweetheart, I could draw this out a little longer if I’m honest, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you begging for it.” You blinked down at him a little stunned, that cocky son of a bitch, he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh- oh that’s mean. Fine. Give me your dice then, I know you bought new ones today.” He definitely did buy a new set today, and he would be lying if this wasn’t absolutely hilarious to him so he pulled them from his pocket and placed them in your hand, throwing his head back and laughing at the irritated look on your face as you shook the dice and tossed them at his feet. “Ha! D20! You heard me Warlock, put that silver tongue of yours to good use or I’ll cut your throat where you stand.”
You feigned irritation but you’d get what you wanted, you both knew he’d never tell you no anyways, he ran his hands over your thighs again and began to slide your underwear down your legs, letting it dangle off the leg hanging from his shoulder and set to work, licking a stripe through your folds as he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. Fuck he was always so good at this, eating at you in earnest as you ground against his face and tugged his hair, making out with your cunt and moaning into you like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Oh, oh fuck I’m there just like that” you breathed out and came hard on his tongue, he didn’t stop until you were overstimulated and pushing at him to stop, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and pulling himself up to grope your chest and kiss you. “What do you want my sweet fairy princess? I’m at your service my love.” “Want you to fuck me, need you inside me, claim me.” He was pretty sure you were trying to kill him, it wasn’t even his birthday and you were giving him his wildest dreams, he pulled the rest of your dress and corset off as you clawed at his shirt and pants trying to strip him down to nothing. Finally free of clothes his eyes roamed over you, you were perfect in every way but he still couldn’t get that one thought out of his head so he stepped around you to grab the wings you’d dropped and held them in front of you. “Can’t get it out of my head, what do you think baby? Ride me with the wings on?” He had the gall to look a little sheepish as his cheeks heated up, you’d never get over just how damn cute he was, he could be downright filthy but this is somehow what caused him to get shy on you. You slipped your arms through the holes and shoved him backwards into the bed climbing onto him and sliding his hard cock into you, rocking slowly with him as he sucked on your chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth as you cried out, oh God were you close again already? Shit maybe you two needed to start doing this more often, you felt like you were buzzing with electricity with every thrust, the small thatch of hairs at the base of him grazing your clit deliciously as you came hard for the second time, sending him tumbling over the edge with you as his teeth sank down into the juncture of your neck, painting your walls with his spend.
He made to roll you onto your back but you made him wait, your wings were expensive and you didn’t want him to crush them, so you slid them off and let them hit the floor, rolling him on top of you as you continued to kiss lazily. “Damn this could be a problem” he said with a grin and you looked up at him puzzled, “how am I ever supposed to go to dnd on Fridays with you when all I can think about is you rolling a d20 so I’d eat you out.” You both couldn’t stop your giggles, and when Friday rolled around and your DM suggested Bob roll for persuasion, you couldn’t help but giggle and wink at him, thinking about taking him home and donning your pretty wings for him again and how it should definitely become a regular event.
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Divider by- @strangergraphics
Tagging- @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @pinkdaisies9285 @hangmansgbaby @sugarcoated-lame @teacupsandtopgun
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topherwrites · 13 hours
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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!
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Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.
If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.
I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!
P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!
(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)
part 1, if you missed it.
SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!
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JAKE SERESIN
Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain
In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies
On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread
you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.
Birds Away by @wombtotombx
You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.
*The Backup by @ereardon
No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 
Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman
The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.
When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman
Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken
Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.
BRADLEY BRADSHAW
*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass
Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...
This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls
You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.
I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice
Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.
‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds
“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).
the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional
You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.
*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor
Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.
*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust
In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more. 
How You Play the Game by @roosterforme
Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.
*The Intern by @/roosterforme
You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.
there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333
bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.
*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard
You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.
All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw
You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.
October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie
you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.
If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer
Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.
Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid
Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.
BOB FLOYD
*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3
Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.
Robert from Next Door by @attapullman
You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman
A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.
*Golden Hour by @/ereardon
Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?
Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain
The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.
International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist
a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman
Bob from Stats by @/attapullman
College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.
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roosterbruiser · 1 day
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For the slumber party, how would whoops! Universe Bob propose to reader?
wow I love this question!
here's whoops! if you haven't read it
whoops!bob definitely proposes on your family's back porch on a random wednesday night. he's had the ring for a while, which everyone on earth except for you has seen. cyclone knows it's going to happen well before anyone else since bob went to him first thing. they definitely celebrated with scotch in cyclone's leather-bound home office.
your family leaves you and bob to it on the screened-in porch. it is a perfect night. it's warm, but not hot. the fan is churning sweet-smelling early summer air, which is really just the cut crocuses your mother has on the table and the citronella candle burning. you've already finished dessert, which was strawberries and cream. bob has some rare time off, which you suspect your father had something to do with.
the two of you stay outside for a long time, watching the sun sink. watching blue eat the world. he's stroking your hair and you're lying on his chest. his heartbeat is steady. everything about bob is steady. that's why you love him so much--he's fucking sturdy. steadfast. he knows right from wrong, he is moral to his core. bob will always do the right thing and you know this in your gut.
he waits until you've finished telling him about the book you just finished and then quietly says that something's been on his mind. you wait patiently, glancing up at him. he looks down at you, the girl of his dreams, the mother of his kittens, and grows teary. you sit up, concerned, a question on your tongue. but bob holds your hand and chokes out a hold on, sugar. you watch with your heart in your throat as he pulls the little velvet box from his pocket.
you know what it means. he knows you know. he opens it, even though it's unnecessary. you'd tie a piece of string around your finger if it meant marrying bob.
he has a whole speech planned but as he looks at you, already crying, yes written all over your face, all he can muster is, "we've just gotta."
you nod slowly, choking a sob. "we do."
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attapullman · 2 days
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based on conversations with @roosterforme
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deakyjoe · 5 hours
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I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying
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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!
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!
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Text
The Containment Diaries: Entry 3
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Pairing: Virologist!Bob Floyd x Reader AND Aviator!Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
ApocalypseAU
Warnings: Warfare, Military Inaccuracies, Scientific Inaccuracies, Swearing, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Breakdowns, Alcohol, I think that’s it?
- Entry 2 Here -
————————————
“Bradley!” You gasped, staring down at the familiar brown eyes.
“Oh, hey Rue. We have to stop meeting like this.” He chuckled.
You pushed yourself off of him as quickly as you could and wrapped the towel tighter around you.
“I’m so sorry! I dropped my clothes in the shower and thought I could chance it while everyone else was still at dinner. Don’t have a spare so was going to wait it out in my room.” You blushed, hard as you mumbled nervously.
Bradley got up off of the floor, his uniform shirt now slightly damp where your wet body had very briefly landed on him.
“I have a spare set of sweatpants and a T-shirt you could have, they might not fit but it’s better than… well I was gonna say better than nothing but I’m not sure if that’s true.” He chuckled again. Was he flirting with you?
“Uh… yeah, please, if that’s ok.” You nodded awkwardly, suddenly very conscious of how much skin was on display.
“You ok to follow me to my room? If not I can bring them to yours?” He offered, a touch of chivalry peaking through.
“I’ll follow you, quicker that way.” You smiled up at him and he began to walk.
You were pleasantly surprised to find that his room was only down the hall from yours, so you didn’t have to go far at all. He opened the door to an impeccably tidy room.
You hovered by the door way.
“Here, put this on.” He said handing you a T-shirt. “And… yeah these should fit, they gave me the wrong size.” A pair of sweatpants followed.
“Thank you.” You took them gratefully.
Bradley ushered you into the room as he walked out the door. “You can get changed in here so you don’t have to run the rest of the way to your room.” He smirked at you. You flushed red again but thanked him as he closed the door.
Once you were alone in the room, you dropped your towel and wet clothes, and quickly dressed into the soft sweats Bradley had given you, and you held the T-shirt up to take a look. A faded, soft UVA t-shirt, and you grinned to yourself as you imagined Bradley at university wearing it.
Once you were clothed, you let yourself out of the room, where Bradley stood with his back against the opposite wall. He grinned as he took you in.
“It looks good on you.”
“Thanks, it’s comfortable, that’s for sure.” You laughed, looking down at the baggy clothes. “So UVA, huh?” You quipped.
Bradley grinned wider, his smile was beautiful.
“Yeah, loved every moment. What about you, where did you go to school?”
“Harvard. Pretentious, I know, but I wanted one of their sweatshirts.” You joked.
Bradley let out a loud chuckle, your joke taking him by surprise. You stood in the hall, smiling like idiots for a few long seconds.
“Well, thank you again. Sorry I bulldozed you for a second time today.” You laughed.
“No problem, was nice to run into you again.”
You waved goodbye to Bradley and walked to your room, sighing when you got inside. It was nice to have a clean, dry set of clothes, but you made a mental note to visit Sergeant Williams in the morning for some actual clothes you could wear.
You sat on your bed for a while, but you weren’t tired enough to sleep. You didn’t have any books to entertain yourself with and your phone didn’t work on board the ship.
Eventually you’d decided, even in your baggy sweatpants and mismatched t-shirt, to take the opportunity to explore the ship. You were sure most people would have finished dinner by now and be back in their cabins, so you made your way out into the quiet hallway and towards the main mess hall. You wondered the corridors that didn’t seem to be restricted, and eventually stumbled across a large room, walls laden with books. You must have found the ships library.
Quietly you stepped inside and scanned the room, there were shelves restricting your view, but you could tell there was someone inside by the telltale sound of pages being flipped, only made louder by the echo of the otherwise empty room.
You walked towards the noise, thinking if it was the librarian or another staff member, you’d ask if it was ok to be there first, but as you rounded the corner you were pleasantly surprised to find Bob, deep in thought as he flicked through a large biochemistry book.
“Hey.” You said softly so not to scare him.
“Oh, hey.” He smiled, turning to face you, his pretty blue eyes lighting up.
“Whatcha doin’?” You asked, pulling out a chair opposite him.
“I’m trying to get a head start on this cure. Truth be told I don’t know where to start.” He chuckled in frustration as he rubbed his face.
“Yeah, to be honest I think they brought me here by mistake.” You breathed.
Bobs eyes shot up to look at you, concerned.
“What makes you think that?” He asked.
You sighed, “I dunno, I’m just a botanist, and here I am with some of the best scientists in the country, I just don’t feel like I should be here.”
Bobs eyes softened, and he reached across the table, gently grabbing your hand.
“Hey, you are probably the brightest and most resourceful scientist I know, and that’s saying something in my circles.”
“Ok now I know you’re a liar.” You grinned at him, squeezing his hand before you pulled it away and grabbed the book he was reading.
“Biochemistry for… dummies?” You shot him a playful glare. You were getting more and more comfortable with him.
Bob chuckled, “Well, viruses have either RNA or DNA, and Biochemistry was never my strong suit so I thought I’d brush up on some of that before we get started tomorrow. Can’t be too prepared.”
“I was actually going to go into Genealogy before I realised my love for plants, kinda wish I had now.” You sighed, handing Bob the book back. You stood to browse the shelves and Bob realised you were wearing different clothes.
“Nice sweats, you went to UVA?” He asked, eyebrows knit as you turned around and he noticed the t-shirt.
You laughed, “Oh yeah, uhm… no. I got this from one of the navy guys. I dropped my clothes in the shower.” You went red just recalling the situation.
Bob nodded, suddenly growing quiet, and went back to reading. You pretending not to notice as you went back to browsing the shelf.
You eventually found a book and you and Bob read together in comfortable silence for a couple hours. You began to yawn, which set Bob off and before you knew it, you were both abandoning your books and leaning back in your chairs as you made small talk.
“So yeah, I think if there is a God, he was definitely watching over me that day. I could have been in quarantine with the lot of them right now.” Bob mumbled, both hands joining at the back of his head as he stretched, his t-shirt riding up and exposing a toned, tanned stomach.
You quickly averted your eyes and bit your lip.
“Yeah.” You breathed, “Not gonna lie, if you weren’t here I think I’d go crazy.” You chuckled as you propped your elbow against the table and rested your tired head in your palm. “Sorry, that came out… weird.”
Bob smiled, “No, it wasn’t weird. It was nice, thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re here too, Rue.”
You yawned again, your eyes fluttering closed for longer this time.
“Alright little lady, I think it’s time we got you to bed.” Bob said, standing and pulling you to your feet.
You groaned, “But it’s so far. Can’t we just sleep here?” You joked sleepily, shuffling your feet as you moved towards the door.
Bob grinned, and suddenly your feet were leaving the ground and you squealed.
“Oh my god, Bob! Put me down!” You laughed, “I didn’t mean it, I can walk!”
“I don’t believe you, if I leave you to it I reckon you’ll sleep in that corner over there.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” You groaned, letting your head loll back dramatically.
Bob carried you the short distance to your cabin, and you tried not to stare at his handsome face for too long as he did. Up close, you could admire every freckle.
Once he reached your room, he gently put you down, and you cleared your throat awkwardly.
“Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” You blurted out, and immediately slapped a hand to your forehead. “Also didn’t mean that the way it came out. I’m sorry.”
Bob chuckled and shot you a wink, then turned to leave as you opened your door, “Goodnight Rue.”
“Night Bob.” You smiled, closing your door.
————————————————
The next morning was chaotic, no one having been briefed on where they should be or when they should be there, so when you were awoken to a loud pounding on your door at god knows what time, you were confused and disoriented.
You threw open the door and Sergeant Williams looked at you impatiently, a hoard of scientists standing groggily behind him, obviously having just been rudely awoken in the same manner.
“Get dressed, stat! We have some work to do today.”
You quickly dressed, made sure you looked semi decent and then joined the group outside your door. You followed Sergeant Williams to a few more doors and then finally Bobs, who looked just as displeased to see him as the rest of you had.
You were then ushered to the mess hall to grab breakfast and coffee, before you were shown to the lab you would be spending the rest of your time aboard in.
Sergeant Williams gave you a brief rundown of everything, and then left you to your own devices. No one know where to start, this was way out of everyone’s league.
“Ok.” You huffed, “I think we need a team leader. That way we have a starting point and no one can just go off and do their own thing.”
Everyone murmured in agreement.
“We should vote.” Martin said, and began ripping up 19 pieces of paper.
You each took turns writing down the name of the person you felt should lead the project. Martin then tallied the votes and cleared his throat.
“It’s a tie.”
“Between who?” Alberta chimed in.
“Dr Floyd and Rue.”
“Oh, I’m happy to relinquish control to Bob.” You piped up, not particularly loving the idea of being head on a project you didn’t feel like you could even contribute to anyway.
“No, we can be co heads. I’m not always gonna be right so it will be good to have two opinions, two sets of eyes.” Bob nodded.
“Okay, if the others don’t mind that, I’m ok with it.” You confirmed.
Everyone mumbled in agreement, but a few eyes glared in your direction. You brushed it off and everyone gathered around a table to brain storm.
Hours later, after your first semi successful day, you had managed to set the lab up into sections, everyone had a clear understanding of their roles. Notes and equations covered every white board in the room and everyone felt ready for actual work to begin as soon as a sample of the virus had been safely secured and transported aboard.
You had also put in a request for several medicinal and poisonous plant types to start testing once the virus arrived.
Bob excused everyone for the day around 3pm, once it was clear there was nothing further they could do.
You were desperate for some fresh air, but you knew you couldn’t just wander outside. You spotted one of the crew lacing up her boots in the main mess hall.
“Hi, excuse me!” You said cheerily, she looked up at you with a smile.
“Hi, everything okay?” She was pretty, dark hair, dark eyes, pointy features, and wearing a flight suit, so you imagined she was an aviator like your new friend Bradley.
“Yeah, I’m sorry to bother you, but I was really hoping for some fresh air, feeling a bit claustrophobic. Is there anywhere on board we’re allowed to go outside?” You asked nervously.
She looked at the clock on the wall and then nodded, “Yeah, follow me. I’m Natasha.” She said, extending a hand as she began to walk past you.
“I’m Rue. Are you a pilot?” You asked, shaking her hand.
“Is it that obvious?” She chuckled, and you immediately felt comfortable around her.
You made small talk as you walked through corridors and stairs and eventually the smell of crisp sea air and jet fuel filled your nostrils.
“While there’s no flight prep going on we’re allowed to hang up here, within reason.” She confirmed. The flight deck was mostly empty and the day was beautiful, you took a deep breath and stopped for a moment to enjoy the sun on your face.
“I can’t thank you enough, I needed this.” You sighed.
“No worries, it’s nice to have some fresh faces on board. Good luck with that cure.” She said with a grin as she disappeared back through the door.
You took a few deep breaths as you stared out to sea. You must have been very far out as you couldn’t see any land in the distance. You knew this should make you feel scared, but if anything you felt protected by all of the trillions of gallons water that surrounded you.
You suddenly felt overwhelmed by the guilt of being safely aboard the ship when so many millions were probably at risk of dying from a disease your compound had released.
You felt yourself begin to cry again, and you cursed yourself as you quickly dabbed away at the tears. You knew crying would do absolutely no good, you had to do everything in your power to come up with a cure.
“Rue?”
You spun around, the voice tearing you back to reality and making you jump.
Bradley stood in front of you, flight suit half unzipped, his black t-shirt revealing a toned body underneath.
“Bradley, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was up here.” You sniffled.
He walked closer, a worried look etched on his face.
“You okay?” He asked, a hand moving to gently cup your face.
You nodded, leaning into his hand without really meaning to, “Yeah. Feeling a little overwhelmed today that’s all. Just needed some air.” You said as you bit your cheek.
“I’m sorry Rue. I know it’s a bit of a nightmare right now, but I’m sure things will go back to how they were before you know it.” Bradley smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.
Not exactly how they were before, you hoped, as you now couldn’t see yourself going back to work in that compound or any compound similar to it. It was more of a prison than a place of work.
“Yeah, fingers crossed.” You whispered.
After a beat of silence, Bradley looked around the flight deck, and grinned at you.
“Hey, you want a distraction?” He said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Desperately.” You breathed.
Bradley took your hand and pulled you towards the hangar, “Ok let’s go.” He chuckled, “But don’t tell anyone or I’m dead meat.”
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- Entry 4 Here -
I don’t have a Taglist for this series but I will be updating my Masterlist as I go 💛
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littleenglishfangirl · 5 months
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A Good ol' Catch up- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x F!Reader
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!Female!Reader
Word Count: 2,551
Summary: It had been three years since the end of the uranium mission, and the Dagger team hadn’t seen one another since. Now, a new mission pulls them back together, and there’s a lot of catching up to do.
Warnings: no major ones I can think of - use of y/n - bad writing and poorly written fluff - probably spelling mistakes (you wouldn't think I write for a living, honestly)
Notes: Being English, I have very little knowledge of the US Navy and how accommodation works for it. What I do know is the living arrangements of married couples in the British Army in 1980s Berlin (thanks parents) - so this is massively inspired by that. Hopefully, it isn't too incorrect (if so, it is cute to imagine at least!) Also, y/n is an Aircraft Controller for the sake of the plot, this is the person who relays information to pilots, like the woman in the film who talks to the Dagger squad on comms about the launches and stuff in Maverick. I would genuinely be interested in writing more about Jake and an AC!Reader in the future, so let me know if you want more from these two.
I hope you all enjoy it! Please feel free to send requests in for Hangman and Rooster - I can't get enough of these two at the moment. ~ Find my Masterlist Here
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“Hangman, you’re back too?” Phoenix shouted from across the bar as Jake stepped in and glanced around, the familiarly creaky door of the Hard Deck swinging closed behind him instantly making him feel at home. 
“You think the higher-ups would pull a stunt like this and not invite me?” he smiled widely, making his way over to the trio of Trace, Bradshaw, and Floyd as he swung his well-worn flight jacket off his shoulders and slung it over the empty chair beside them all. 
He would never admit it, but Jake had missed his nights with the Dagger squad. It must have been at least three years now since the Uranium mission, and each of them had gone their separate ways again, back to their respective bases and gradually losing touch as they hopped from one country, ocean, and ship to another. 
“No one else here yet?” he asked, sauntering over to the bar where Penny had already grabbed him a beer - “Thanks, m’dear,” he nodded to her quickly.
“Coyote was here, but he slinked off with a girl ogling his uniform about ten minutes ago and we haven’t seen him since,” Bradley snickered, standing to clasp Jake’s hand and pull him into a brief hug, slapping his shoulder, “Payback and Fanboy are due in a day or so, they only got back from a deployment yesterday apparently.” Jake nodded as he sat, taking a sip of his beer as he listened.
“Speaking of deployment, does anyone know why we are all back again?” Bob asked.
Jake shook his head, “Not a clue, got the call a few weeks ago – must be a challenge if they needed me to keep you all in check,” he joked, laughing as Phoenix rolled her eyes. 
“I can see you haven’t changed much, Bagman.”
“More than you would think,” he rebuked quickly, glancing at her over his lifted drink.
The music was loud and the bar hot as the four caught up, retelling what they could of the events of their lives over the last three years. Nat and Bob had managed to score some deployments together after Mav had put in a good word about the duo – the pair was now easily the best pilot/WSO team in active service. Jake had heard a few quick stories of a pair that was dominating every mission in the Pacific – he should have guessed it would have been them. 
“How’s the girl back home, Roo?” Nat asked, standing to join him in a game of darts. 
“She’s good, been a year now.” “And she’s good with the porn ‘tache?” Jake joked, sitting back and twisting in his chair a little to watch.
“She loves the porn ‘tache,” Bradley hit back, “especially when I-”
“You know what, I take it back,” Jake grimaced, trying to hate the way Rooster smirked with his little win, but realising that he had actually direly missed the back-and-forth.
The evening continued pretty much along these lines – jokes, drinks, and games – as if they had never been broken up in the first place. As the clock slowly ticked towards nine, Jake finally stood, slapping his knee lightly, the group’s heads turning towards him. 
“I best be heading home,” Jake stood, picking up his jacket. 
“Not like you to be having an early night, Bagman,” Rooster teased as he took another sip of his beer, Jake just shook his head sniggering as he slung his jacket on.
“I’ll walk back to the bunks with you, had a long day myself,” Bob began to stand up himself,
“Oh I’m not in the bunks this time round,” Jake stopped him, the group looking at him confused as Bob halted his movements halfway through standing up. Catching Phoenix's knitted brows, his face lit up with a smirk, “I’m in the married quarters.”
Rooster nearly spat out his beer, coughing a little as he tried to regain his composure, Bob patted his back as he shook his head and held his hand up to signal he was okay before lightly wiping his chin. “Excuse me?” Phoenix nearly shouted. “Am I missing something?” she glanced at his hands which were hooked through his belt loops but didn’t spot a ring.  
Jake continued his sarky smile as he fished his dog tag necklace from beneath his top. Sure enough, a gold band hung there, contrasted against the cool silver. 
“Well I’ll be damned,” Bob sat back down unceremoniously.
“Who the hell did you convince to marry you?” Bradley asked, still in disbelief. 
“You can come and meet her if you like?” Jake offered, jokingly gesturing towards the bar door after tucking the necklace back safely away. He had never seen them down their drinks and gather their jackets quicker. 
“We have been sitting here for nearly three hours and you didn’t mention you had a wife? Or husband, I suppose…” Nat grilled him
Jake shook his head as he led the way out of the bar and down the beach back towards the base. 
“Wife,” he affirmed. “We are private, I suppose – only way to avoid drama in the Navy.” 
“You’re not fucking with us right? Like, you actually sat and paid attention to one woman for longer than a week,” Rooster teased.
Jake rolled his eyes, “Do you really think so lowly of me?” He turned slightly to look at him but continued to walk.
“I just wasn’t expecting that out of the four of us, you would be the one to settle down first.”
“Jealous, Rooster?” Bradley huffed out his nose in a half laugh. 
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” 
The married quarters were a little distance from the main bunks for officers without families. The compound was a little more self-contained for those with husbands, wives, and children to keep away from the rowdy bunches of single naval recruits causing havoc in their downtime. 
“Damn, this place is far nicer than my spot,” Rooster whistled, looking around as Jake unlocked the main door. “Hey Nat, fancy getting hitched for a free upgrade?” he joked, smirking
“In your dreams, chicken boy,” she laughed.
Jake swung the doors open before heading up the stairs, taking two at a time before he stopped at another door, opening it to reveal a comfortable flat, a few moving boxes strewn around and half opened.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called, unable to stop himself smiling as Bradley jokingly gagged behind him. “I brought some people for you to meet.”
Throwing a muslin towel over your shoulder, you emerged from one of the bedrooms, smiling as you saw your husband trailing three of who you presumed to be the infamous dagger squadron behind him.
“Nice night?” you asked as he moved to kiss your cheek. 
“Of course,” he swung around to face the group awkwardly standing in your small living room entryway. “Believe me now?” he asked him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side for a brief moment.
You stepped forward and offered your hand to Nat, who was at the front of the three, “I’m presuming you’re Phoenix,” you started shaking her hand, “Then Rooster, and… Bob?” 
“Ye-yeah, that’s us,” Bob nodded, “You seem to know a lot about us?” he asked as you moved to shake his hand. 
“Well, of course, you’re Jakes’s closest buddies. It’s just a shame it took us this long to finally meet,” she smiled. You missed how they all looked at him bewildered at your little hit of truth. 
“I’m [y/n] - it really is so good to meet you all at last. Do you want anything to drink? I think we have some beers in the fridge, and some water - we haven’t had a chance to properly go to the store yet so I’m afraid that’s all I can offer.” “Beers would be great, thank you [y/n]” Nat spoke up. You smiled, moving to the kitchen to grab them.
“Closest mates, eh?” Bradley asked smugly. 
Jake rolled his eyes as he fell back onto the couch, gesturing for the others to do the same, “shut up.”
You came back with the drinks, handing them out before Jake pulled you into his lap, allowing you to perch on his knee to prevent you from having to sit on the floor. 
“Sorry if I am behind on this, but when on earth did you get married – how did you even meet – when?” Nat asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees as she took a sip of her drink, trying to get a grip on the sight in front of her.
“[y/n] here was the aircraft controller at my home base,” Jake began, glancing up at you, his eyes not leaving your face as he admired you. “How was I supposed to not fall in love with that voice in my ear every day,” he said lovingly. “After talking to her through comms for weeks, I finally got a glance of her at a mess do – and I was a goner from there.” 
You blushed as you listened to his retelling. 
“And why weren’t we invited to the wedding?” Bradley asked, slinging his arm over the back of the sofa as he settled back fully. 
“Well it was all pretty quick, unexpectedly,” you continued as Jake took a drink. “We got engaged and were going to plan taking time off for a full-on wedding back in Texas, but then Jake got orders for a six-month deployment and I was off to fill in on another ship on another mission last minute, so off to the courthouse we went – there and then.” 
As you finished your story, a small cry came from the back bedroom. The trio’s heads whipped round at the noise, “no way…” Bob started. 
“I’ll get her,” Jake gently moved you off his knee and let you settle back where he had been. You couldn’t help but snuggle into the warmth he left behind. As Jake disappeared from view, Nat looked back at you,
“If you are being held against your will, blink twice,” she joked.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “J joked you might say something like that,” you smiled, leaning forward to grab his bottle from the table and take a sip. “Don’t worry, I was on the other side of his comms unit every day – every time he went up, I knew what I was getting myself into.”
“And you still said yes?” Bob asked. 
“Crazy, I know,” you chuckled as Jake reemerged carrying a toddler, no older than one, on his hip, her bright blonde hair confirming that she was indeed, his. 
“I wish she would settle like that for me,” you cooed.
“What can I say, she’s a daddy’s girl,” Jake smiled back before glancing back down at his daughter, the small girl clinging to his shoulder and babbling. “This is Elena,” he introduced her as he turned her to look at everyone. The toddler looked at them before Jake placed her down gently, watching as she slowly toddled over to you, using your knee to find her balance, and then to Bob, who offered her his hand to balance her as she continued to fuss around the group.
“She’s confident,” Nat commented, a light smile on her face.
“Gets that from her dad,” you smiled down at Jake who had resigned himself to sitting on the floor at your feet, leaning against your legs, watching Elena like a hawk in case he needed to dive in to stop her falling or walking into the coffee table. 
As you all continued to chat, you felt Jake’s hand wrap itself around the calf of your crossed leg, his calloused fingers slowly dragging themselves up and down the skin absentmindedly as he intermittently contributed to the conversation – mainly to refute any embarrassing claims made about him both from you and the rest of his squad. 
His gaze remained largely fixed on your toddler, who was still fussing between your guests, taking a particular liking to Rooster and his funny moustache, which she had been keen to touch and try to work out for herself – much to his amusement. The funny face she pulled when looking at it closely made Jake laugh,
“She really is my kid – that’s how I feel about Rooster too, darlin’” he smiled at her as she fussed to be put back down and toddled over to him, laying in his lap and fussing with his spare hand. He reached up to take his necklace off, removing his hand from your leg momentarily to allow him to wrap the chain around a few of his fingers securely. He then handed the tags to Elena, watching as her face lit up at something new to mess with. His hand found your skin again as his tags immediately went into your daughter’s mouth, Jake’s grip on the chain stopping her from pulling them too deeply and choking. It was clear that she found the cool metal distasteful as she pulled them back out and started fiddling with the shiny objects, her tiny fingers playing with the wedding ring he usually wore so close to his heart. 
It was safe to say that he had never been happier. The sound of your comforting voice had always been a beacon of hope for him – particularly when he was on tricky missions and it came sailing over the comm unit with news and tactical information. It was your job, yes, but god did it feel just like you did it for him sometimes – and how he relished in these self-indulgent daydreams. 
Hearing you now, chatting happily to three of the six people he had arguably gone through the most with with his daughter babbling with his wedding ring in his lap, he felt truly complete. The feeling of your fingers mindlessly playing with his hair as you continue your conversation with Bob made his heart swell and his whole body relax. 
“We should probably head off,” Bob mused, watching how Elena’s eyes were closing slowly on Jake’s thigh, Jake not far off sleep himself as you continued to play with his scalp. 
“Of course,” you nodded and smiled, standing with them, “It really was nice to finally meet you. I hope I’ll catch up with the rest of the team soon too?”
“Of course you will, honey,” Jake had stood carefully and kissed your head lightly. 'I'm going to pop her back down for the night, I’ll see you all on deck in the morning,’ he nodded and wandered back to your daughter’s nursery as the others called a few goodnights. 
“I’ll speak to you all over comms tomorrow, I suppose,” you smiled as you all made your way to the door. 
“Jake seems so different nowadays, I don’t suppose you have managed to change him in the air too, have you?” Bob joked as he threw his jacket on. 
You couldn’t help but snicker, “He’s still Hangman if that’s what you’re asking – incredible pilot, incredibly cocksure.” You couldn’t miss the mild disappointment on Bob’s face, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, though, and I know you wouldn’t, either. Besides, there is a reason he is up for Captaincy after this mission," you mentioned casually as you opened the door and leaned against it.
“He’s WHAT?”
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Tags: you lot all loved the little snippet I put out, so I presumed you'd be interested in being tagged - I hope that's okay!
@rosiahills22 @hangmandruigandmav @djs8891@a-girl-who-loves-disney @callsign-minx
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tropes-and-tales · 6 months
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Good Girl
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Day 2:  Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 
CW:  Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.
Word Count:  2996
AN:  This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)
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You and Bob continue your little dance for months.
You know the man likes you.  Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy.  He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.
Everyone else notices it.  Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer.  Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits.  Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.
Bob never makes a move.
Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single.  The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up.  The little touches you chance:  brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.
It’s Rooster who clues you in.  The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness.  In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.
“I know what you’re doing,” he says.  “But you’re going about it all wrong.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them.  “C’mon.  It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested.  You gotta be blatant with him.  He won’t get it otherwise.”
“Why not?”  Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation.  Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—
“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”
Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.  
“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless.  “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”
“That’s a terrible excuse.  I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”
Rooster chuckles again.  “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us.  I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”  
You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck:  you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you.  Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside.  You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.
You turn back to the pilot.  You square your shoulders.  “Okay, I hear you.  I’ll be the brave one.”  A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath.  “And you’re sure he likes me?  You aren’t misreading this somehow?  I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”
He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.  
“Ah, kid, he loves you.  You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.
-----
You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life.  Still, you decide to be brave.
You make the first move.
When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster.  You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.
You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.
“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear.  “I was going to take a walk on the beach.  Do you want to join me?”
The hope in his eyes turns blatant.  “Really?”
“Yeah.  You wanna go?  C’mon.”  You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance. 
You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave.  The former tips you a knowing wink.  The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.
You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks.  He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.
The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit.  It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice.  You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it.  He seems comfortable just to be himself:  quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.  
Case in point:  you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one.  Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy.  If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.
And he breaks the silence, after a while.
“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.  
“Same,” you reply.  “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”
“You like it?”
You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles.  “I do,” you admit.  “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”
He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”
The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them.  “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”
The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent.  He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.
“Bradley.”  It comes out curt, two quick syllables.  A statement, not a question.
You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement.  Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night.  You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there.  The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.
“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.  
“I saw you tonight—”
You shake your head again, cut him off.  “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob.  “About you.”
You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.  If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.
And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward.  Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.
“I think you’re great, Bobby.  Honestly.  I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…”  You trail off, lose your words like an idiot.  You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely.  You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—
You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses:  gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant.  His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.
Your thoughts go fuzzy.  Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.
“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through.  “I know, honey.  Me too.”
Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you.  You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.
If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not.  Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.
It doesn’t take much urging, you find.  You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come.  You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you.  You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.
As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too.  He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh.  He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.
You break the kiss, slow the moment down.  You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.
“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.  
He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin.  “Didn’t think you were interested.”
You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose.  You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.  
“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease.  You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you.  He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.
“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.”  His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip.  “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”
“I’m nicest to you,” you point out.  You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space.  At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you.  His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.
It's too much:  the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts.  Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets.  It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—
“This good?” he asks.  His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw.  He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.
You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin.  You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair.  You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed.  You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?
“Don’t worry about me.”  He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat.  “Wanna make you come, honey.”
Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter.  You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”
There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid.  No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you.  A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank:  yes, you want to be his good girl.  Yes, you want to come for him.  Whatever he wants.  Anything he wants.  Everything he wants.
You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him.  “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can.  Yes, yes.  Yes to all of it.
Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you:  you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge.  You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over.  His quietly domineering orders.
“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it.  “My good, sweet girl.  Come for me.”
Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him.  Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.
“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair.  “Good girl.  So fucking good for me.”
And all you can respond with is yes, yes.  Only for you, Bobby.
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enthyrea · 6 months
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a day off
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 
He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.
When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"
"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."
Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 
He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"
The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."
"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."
"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."
You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.
"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."
"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."
Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 
By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.
"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."
Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 
Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."
And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.
--------------------------
For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 
He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 
"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"
"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"
"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."
They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.
That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."
"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 
"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."
As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 
Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 
Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.
He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.
On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 
On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."
Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."
A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 
"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."
"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 
"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 
He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."
You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."
"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 
"Okay. Bob."
He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"
When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."
-------------------------
You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 
"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."
You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"
"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.
You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 
Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"
"Yes."
The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 
"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"
Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."
"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.
"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."
"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.
"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 
But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.
On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.
I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.
He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 
He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.
Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.
It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."
Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.
He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 
"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 
His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 
"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 
"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 
You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."
Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"
After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.
"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.
You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."
Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."
This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 
"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 
He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."
Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."
He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"
"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."
Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."
Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 
He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 
"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 
Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 
"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.
"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 
You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 
"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 
"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.
"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"
Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"
You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"
Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.
Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 
"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 
"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 
"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.
"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 
"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.
"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 
Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.
Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"
You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 
And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."
"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 
But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.
"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"
"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."
"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.
Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."
He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.
"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.
Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 
Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 
"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.
----------------------------
Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.
You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.
You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.
You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 
You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 
"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 
The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 
You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 
Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.
"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 
"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."
You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."
Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"
You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 
The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."
You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"
His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."
You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."
He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"
As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."
Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."
"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 
You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."
Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 
He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."
He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"
He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."
You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 
As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"
"Okay."
He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.
---------------------------
Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.
"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 
"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 
"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."
Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."
Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 
"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"
"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.
Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 
"Lieutenant Floyd."
He smiled softly. "Good morning."
"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.
You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"
He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."
Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."
--------------------------
You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes." 
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
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bradshawsbaby · 17 days
Text
Like Peas in a Pod
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader
Summary: What happens when two wallflowers find each other?
Word Count: 5.7k
Author’s Note: I admit that this story is extremely self-indulgent. But I have a feeling that a lot of people can relate to what our leading lady goes through, and I hope you can find pieces of yourself in her!
Warnings: Mild angst, social awkwardness, feeling overlooked, alcohol consumption, flirting, fluff.
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If you’d had it your way, you would be at home right now, curled up on the couch in a pair of cozy pajamas with a good book and a steaming cup of tea in hand. But instead, your friends had outnumbered you 3-1 and you were currently sitting in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar, the patrons loudly competing with the music that was blaring through the speakers.
“Do we have to go out tonight?” you’d groaned over FaceTime a few hours earlier. “It’s been such a long week. Can’t we just do a wine night and put on some movies?”
“We did that last week!” Shawna argued. “C’mon, I just got my nails done. Don’t let it be for nothing,” she teased, wiggling her manicured fingers in front of the camera.
“Besides,” Kelsey chimed in, “like you said, it has been a long week. We deserve a night out to unwind and treat ourselves.”
“Hopefully we’ll find other people to treat us,” Renee added cheekily, tossing her unruly dark curls over her shoulder as she winked.
“Besides, the girls at work told me this is a really fun bar. Apparently it’s where all the hotties from North Island go after work,” Shawna giggled.
Your former college roommate had just started a new nursing job at Naval Medical Center San Diego, so if anyone was going to know where the hot Navy guys spent their off hours, it would be her.
“It’s settled! We’re going to The Hard Deck, ladies,” Renee grinned, blowing you all a kiss. “Meet at my place at 8 and we’ll Uber over.”
As much as you would have preferred to stay at home tonight, you had to admit that Shawna hadn’t been wrong. From the moment you’d stepped foot inside The Hard Deck, you’d been amazed at the sheer number of attractive men crowding the space. You certainly never found men like this when you hit the bars downtown.
Renee, ever the mastermind when it came to scoping out the most advantageous situations, quickly managed to grab your group a table smack in the middle of the room. It had an excellent vantage point that not only made you most visible to the bar’s patrons, but also gave you a perfect view of the pool table, the dart boards, and the bar all at once.
“Cheers, ladies!” Kelsey exclaimed once you were all seated with your first round of drinks. “And a special toast to Shawna for telling us about this place!” she added with a grin, holding up her glass of hard cider.
The rest of you held up your drinks—Renee had opted for a bottle of Coors, Shawna had gone with an IPA, and you had chosen a High Noon—and clinked them together with a celebratory “Cheers!”
“Tonight’s the night that you’re finally going to find yourself a man,” Shawna told you, turning to you and playfully poking you in the side.
“Yes, it is!” Renee nodded in agreement, winking at you from across the table as she took a sip of her beer.
“Take your pick, babe,” Kelsey added, waving her hand to encompass the whole bar. “I’ve literally never seen so many gorgeous guys all in one place. And in uniform, too!”
You felt the back of your neck prickling and your skin growing warm at your friends’ expectant stares, a weak smile gracing your lips as you took a sip of your drink. It always ended up being like this. You loved your friends, and you knew they meant well, but they had no idea what it was like to be in your shoes.
The four of you had been best friends since college, despite the fact that you couldn’t have been more different from one another if you tried. Kelsey always joked that your four personalities combined helped to balance each other out.
Despite their differences in looks, style, and demeanor, Shawna, Renee, and Kelsey did all have one thing in common that you had never seemed to possess—the ability to turn men’s heads no matter where they were.
Shawna had the perfectly sweet girl-next-door vibe going on. With her strawberry blonde locks, big blue eyes, dusting of freckles, and curvy figure, she always attracted guys like bees to a flower.
At any given time, Kelsey looked like she had just walked off the runway. Even in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she managed to look chic. With her tall, willowy figure, sleek dark brown bob, almond-shaped eyes, and lips that never needed lipstick, she had men drooling all over her.
Arguably the most exuberant member of the group was Renee, who had been a firecracker for as long as you had known her. The only thing bigger than her laugh was her smile, and she had the most gorgeous ebony curls that contrasted perfectly with her cinnamon-colored skin. Paired with her petite figure, she drew men in like moths to a flame.
And then there was you. Quiet, shy, bookish you. Throughout college, people had often commented that you seemed like the most grounded out of all your friends, but you knew what that really meant. You were boring. And you knew what people were really trying to say—how had you become friends with such fun-loving girls?
You loved your friends more than anything, and you were grateful for the ways they’d helped you come out of your shell since college. But you’d be lying if you said going out to bars with them wasn’t challenging at times.
They all knew how to light up a room, how to flirt and talk to random strangers and get phone numbers from the hottest men you’d ever seen. You—didn’t know how to do any of that.
You’d tried over the years, you really had. Mainly at the girls’ insistence. You made an effort to flirt with the guys they introduced you to, or strike up conversations with  random cuties at your favorite coffee shop, but it never seemed to work for you the way that it did for your friends. And guys never approached you the way they did Shawna and Kelsey and Renee.
The most painful experience had been a couple months ago, when a guy had come up to you while you were waiting to order a drink, smiling and chatting in a way that had you thinking he was interested. Your heart had soared inside your chest, only to crash a few moments later when he asked, “So, is your friend single?” while pointing at Kelsey.
You hadn’t told any of your friends about that encounter. You knew they’d just feel bad and you didn’t want them to. They were desperate to find somebody for you, and you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you’d given up hoping for that a long time ago. They just wouldn’t understand. They went on dates all the time. You were just the one guys approached to inquire after their relationship statuses.
“Don’t give us that look,” Renee told you, shaking her head and pointing an accusatory finger at you as you attempted to slink down in your seat. “You look hot tonight, and you need to show it off!”
“You do,” Shawna nodded vehemently, nudging you in the side again until you sat up straight. “I love that top.”
“See? I told you it was a solid purchase,” Kelsey winked, as she had been the one to convince you to buy the top in question when the two of you had gone shopping a couple weeks ago.
Despite your lack of hopefulness, you had put a good deal of effort into your appearance tonight. You couldn’t help it. A bar full of hot guys in sexy uniforms? You’d be crazy not to try. You’d spent over an hour on your hair and make-up, and had decided to finally take the tags off the top Kelsey had convinced you to buy. The neckline flattered your figure and hugged your body in all the right places. You’d coupled it with a pair of high-waisted jeans and strappy sandals to show off your pedicure. Even you had to admit that you looked good, but you still hadn’t seemed to catch the eye of any guy in the bar.
“Let’s just enjoy the night and focus on us,” you said, trying to deflect your friends’ intense attention. “If anybody else happens to come along, then so be it.”
The girls all shot you dissatisfied looks, but didn’t push the point any further. Shawna started regaling you all with stories from her new job, which allowed you to let out a soft sigh of relief.
As the night went on, you tried your best not to grow discouraged, but it was getting harder and harder. Countless guys had passed by your table, stopping to flirt with Renee or Kelsey or Shawna, or even all three, but their eyes skipped over you like you were invisible. Whenever your friends tried to direct their attention your way, they smiled politely before instantly turning back to the actual objects of their attraction. Every time you got up to use the bathroom or order another round at the bar, you attempted to smile and make eye contact and appear open and interested, all the things your friends had been telling you to do for years, but none of it worked.
At that point, all you wanted to do was go home, put on your pajamas, and live vicariously through a good rom com.
You were about to tell your friends that you were going to get going when one of the bartenders—if you’d heard correctly earlier, she might have been the owner—approached your table with a tray full of drinks, a smile gracing her lovely face.
“Ladies, these are for you,” she said, setting down a cider for Kelsey, a Coors for Renee, an IPA for Shawna, and a High Noon for you.
“Oh,” Shawna said, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “I think there might have been a mistake. We didn’t order another round, did we?” she asked, looking at the rest of you.
“Not that we won’t take them,” Renee chimed in with that bright laugh of hers.
The woman smiled at the four of you. “No mistake. These drinks are compliments of the group over there,” she chuckled, pointing at a group of officers clustered around the pool table.
The four of you turned your gazes in the direction she was pointing, your friends letting out various sounds of delighted surprise when they realized the men in question looked as though they had just been featured on the cover of Men’s Health magazine.
“Oh, we’ll definitely take them!” Renee beamed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kelsey grinned up at the older woman gratefully.
“Of course,” she nodded, tucking her empty tray under her arm. She leaned in a little closer with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, “I’ll vouch for the fact that they’re good guys. But if they act like idiots, just come find me. My name is Penny.”
“Thanks, Penny,” Shawna giggled, reaching for her new drink. “We owe you one!”
Penny winked at you before heading back to the bar, which was surrounded by thirsty customers. Business was booming. If Penny was the owner as you suspected, then she must have been doing quite well.
“Should we go thank them for the drinks?” Shawna grinned, chewing on her lower lip as she glanced in the direction of the handsome officers at the pool table.
“Not yet,” Renee decided, smirking mischievously. “We’ll let them sweat it out a little bit first.”
“Renee!” Kelsey laughed, lightly smacking her on the arm.
“What? You know it’ll work. They’ll be eating out of the palms of our hands,” Renee grinned, taking a hearty sip of her Coors.
“They look cute,” you ventured, though your palms were already sweating at the thought of approaching them. You highly doubted any of them would be eating out of your clammy palms.
Clearly you shouldn’t have said anything, because suddenly all three of your friends were pouncing on you like ravenous wolves.
“Which one do you think is the cutest?”
“Do you see one you like?”
“Claim one now before we get over there!”
Their words loudly overlapped one another, to the point that you had to resist the urge to cover your ears with your hands.
“I—I—I don’t know!” you exclaimed, feeling your skin grow warm with embarrassment. You hated being the center of attention. “I just meant—I mean, they look cute for you guys.”
“Um, last I checked, you were just as single as the rest of us. Why wouldn’t they be cute for you, too?” Kelsey demanded, raising one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows.
“Please, you guys, let’s just drop it. I’m probably going to start heading home soon anyway,” you told them, sliding down in your seat and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
“What? No, you can’t!” Renee and Shawna practically cried in unison.
“C’mon, we’ll go over to them now,” Renee decided, grabbing her drink and her purse. “You can’t leave yet,” she insisted.
Kelsey and Shawna nodded, grabbing their things and following suit, nearly having to drag you out of your seat to get you to come with them.
“Well, well, well, fellas,” smirked a blonde-headed officer as the four of you approached the pool table. “Looks like our little gift didn’t go unnoticed after all.”
Glancing down quickly, you spotted the name printed on his nameplate—Seresin. He was extremely handsome in that clean-cut, All-American way, with his perfectly coiffed blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and charming smile.
Renee, who always ended up being your group’s fearless leader, smirked in return as she stepped to the head of the pack. “Well, well, well, ladies. Looks like the guys who sent us those drinks aren’t half bad after all,” she said, resting a hand on her hip as she gazed up at the blonde man, challenge twinkling in her dark eyes. “Even if they weren’t brave enough to come bring us the drinks themselves.”
Kelsey and Shawna stood on either side of her, giggling softly, while you hung near the back, staring down at your feet as your cheeks burned hot.
“Most of us aren’t half bad. I can’t speak for Hangman here,” another voice piped up, deep and gravelly. You could sense, rather than see, Kelsey’s ears pricking up at the sound.
Glancing up, you saw another handsome man standing before you, looking every inch Kelsey’s type with his sunkissed brown hair, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and easygoing smile. If you knew Kelsey, you knew she was already imagining what that mustache would feel like against her lips. You clocked his nameplate as well—Bradshaw.
“Hangman?” Renee asked coquettishly, quirking an eyebrow as she glanced between the two men.
“My callsign,” the blonde cut in smoothly, pool cue still in hand. It was clear that while he and Bradshaw might be buddies, there was still a sense of competition between the two.
“Ah, callsigns. You’re fighter pilots,” Shawna commented, grinning knowingly. Thank goodness for her job at NMCSD. She was much more in the know than any of the rest of you.
“Not just any fighter pilots. The best fighter pilots,” came another voice from the other side of the pool table. When Hangman stepped to the side, you saw it belonged to a guy whose jawline looked like it could cut glass and whose smile could melt butter. His nameplate read Machado.
“Oh, yeah?” Kelsey asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And who determines that?”
“The Navy,” Bradshaw replied smoothly, stepping a little closer to your statuesque friend. “We’re all TOPGUN graduates. The top 1%.”
“Hmm, and humble, too,” Kelsey laughed, delicately resting her hand on his arm as she did so. “So what’s your callsign then?”
“Rooster,” the mustached man told her, chest puffing out with pride. “But I’m being awfully rude. I didn’t catch your name,” he said, holding out his large hand.
“Kelsey,” she replied, her dark eyes twinkling as she slipped her hand into his.
You watched as, almost instantly, your friends partnered off quite naturally with the handsome aviators. Renee and Hangman were already bickering about the best way to sink the 8 ball, Kelsey and Rooster were talking about music near the window, and Shawna was flirting up a storm with Machado, whose callsign turned out to be Coyote.
Your stomach sank as you realized that you were suddenly on your own. As usual. Not that you resented your friends getting to flirt with cute guys. You always cheered them on when they met someone new, and you were always there to celebrate with them. You just wished that, for once, they had a reason to celebrate with you.
Glancing around, you saw that there were several other officers hanging around the pool table, though most of them seemed to be engrossed in their own conversations. No one was paying you any mind. And suddenly you felt like crying.
What was wrong with you? Was there something about you that just naturally repelled handsome men? Your friends were constantly telling you how beautiful you were, but that was hard to believe when you were the only one who never got hit on, never got asked out, never felt special or seen by anybody.
It was time to go home. You could feel the tears stinging the backs of your eyes, and the last thing you needed was to start bawling in the middle of a Navy bar. No one would notice if you just slipped away. You’d text your friends in the Uber and ask them to let you know how the rest of their night went. It always ended up being like this, and you weren’t sure why you had thought tonight would be any different.
Silently leaving your drink on the table with your friends’ things, you turned and began snaking your way through the crowd, trying to get to the bar so that you could close out your tab. Before you could get there, however, someone bumped into you from behind, sending your purse flying out of your hands.
Sighing softly, you dropped down to your hands and knees, praying you wouldn’t get stomped on as you tried to reach for it. Just as your hand was hovering over it, however, a much larger hand closed down around it and lifted it up.
Before you could shout for help, that same hand was hovering in front of your face, silently offering to help you up off the sticky bar floor. You lifted your head and your heart skipped a beat at the man who was gazing down at you. He had sandy brown hair, big blue eyes magnified behind a pair of military-issued glasses, and ruddy cheeks, an uncertain smile on his handsome face.
Wordlessly, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you back up to your feet. He was even taller than you had originally thought from your position down on the ground.
“Are you alright?” he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the crowd.
“Yes,” you yelled back, nodding your head on the off-chance he hadn’t heard you. “Thank you,” you added.
“I’m guessing you were looking for this?” he went on, holding up your purse in his other hand.
You nodded again, accepting your bag with a grateful smile. “I guess I’m just a klutz,” you told him sheepishly, the realization dawning that this man had literally just witnessed you crawling on a grimy bar floor.
He smiled in response, which only made him look all the more handsome. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, shaking his head. “Someone bumped into you.”
He had seen that? Had he actually been paying attention to you? Or did he just happen to be nearby?
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it,” you murmured, nervously fiddling with one of your bracelets as you glanced over at the bar.
He followed your gaze, his expression conflicted. “Well I don’t want to hold you up,” he told you, sounding vaguely disappointed.
Your head whipped back in his direction. “Oh, no! I mean, you’re not. I was just trying to get to the bar to close my tab.”
Were you losing your mind or did he really look disappointed now?
“Oh, you’re leaving?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder. “I, um, I thought I saw you with the girls who were hanging out with my friends,” he explained, indicating the group at the pool table with his thumb.
He was a part of that group? Was this a sign that maybe you shouldn’t leave after all?
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of what to say. “I just, um…well, it’s kind of loud in here and I just…” Your sentence trailed off as you realized how lame you sounded.
“Would you like to maybe go outside for a minute?” he suggested. When you hesitated, he stammered, “I mean, of course you don’t have to. I’m sorry. I mean, obviously you just want to get out of here and I’m—”
“No,” you cut him off, briefly brushing your fingers against his arm. “I mean, I would like that,” you clarified with a shy smile.
“Oh,” he blinked, looking a little surprised. But then he brightened instantly, his bright blue eyes shining as he smiled at you in return. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to you.
Slipping your hand into his, you smiled wider as you told him your name, beaming when he repeated it back to you and told you it was pretty.
“So do you have a callsign, too, Bob?” you asked curiously as he led you through the crowd and towards one of the back doors that faced the beach. “Your friends were telling me and my friends their callsigns earlier.”
“Oh, um, yeah,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he held open the door that led to a little back patio with picnic tables. It was relatively empty, except for a few people hanging out in the sand. “My callsign is Bob. Original, I know,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh, as if he was used to being made fun of for it.
In that instant, you felt a deep sense of connectedness to him that you couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the way he ducked his head and averted his gaze, like he was trying to hide, or the way he nervously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but you were suddenly certain that no one understood what it felt like to be in your shoes more than he did. To be overlooked, forgotten, underestimated. To be uncomfortable in your own skin because you were so certain you were never going to be enough for people.
“I like it,” you told him with a smile.
“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, looking caught off guard and surprised by your words once again.
The two of you wandered over to one of the picnic tables and took seats opposite each other, the fairy lights strung up outside illuminating his features as he gazed at you.
“Is this your first time at The Hard Deck?” he asked curiously, resting his elbows on the table. “I feel like I’d remember seeing you.”
You bit down on your lower lip to hide your smile, his words warming you from the inside out. “It is, actually. It was my friend Shawna’s idea to come tonight. She just recently started working at NMCSD and some of her co-workers told her this was a good spot.”
“It is,” Bob nodded, smiling at you. “Penny Benjamin, the owner, is a good woman and she always makes sure to look out for us.”
“I’m guessing this is a regular spot for you guys then?” you questioned, glancing up and spotting your friends through one of the windows. They looked like they were still having a good time with the aviators they’d found.
“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve been back in San Diego. I was at TOPGUN a few years ago, then got stationed at Lemoore, then got called back to TOPGUN last October for a special mission, then got asked to stay on permanently with my new squadron. The Hard Deck has become like a second home,” he joked.
You laughed softly, charmed by the way he told you the story without a trace of arrogance or conceit. Clearly, he was one of the Navy’s best pilots if he had been called to TOPGUN not once, but twice, but he wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the facts.
As if he could read your mind, Bob explained, “I’m actually not a pilot. I’m a Weapons Systems Officer. I ride in the rear of the jet and deal with navigation and operating the aircraft system. I wanted to be a pilot when I was young, but my vision’s always been a problem. I’m proud to be a WSO though. And I have a great partner.”
“I think that sounds really impressive,” you told him honestly, reaching out and resting your hand over his. “I’m sure that takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. If it was up to me, we’d never make it off the ground,” you grinned.
Bob smiled in return. “I’m sure you’d get the hang of it real quick. You seem really smart,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red as he ducked his head slightly. “So, uh, what do you do?”
“I’m a teacher,” you replied. “I teach history to middle schoolers.”
“Now that’s something I’m sure takes a tremendous amount of skill and talent. Just the thought of middle schoolers terrifies me,” he admitted, which made both of you laugh. “And history, too, huh? I love history. It was always my favorite subject in school.”
“Really?” you asked excitedly. It was rare that you found someone who enjoyed geeking out over history as much as you did.
“Absolutely. If I hadn’t gone into the Navy, I would have loved working in a museum or something. Maybe being a teacher, but like I said—middle schoolers terrify me,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling.
“There’s always high school,” you pointed out with a smile.
“Even worse!” he exclaimed, which made you dissolve into a fit of giggles.
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a few moments, taking in the sound of the ocean waves and the faint trickle of music coming from inside the bar.
“Is that a piano?” you asked when the sound of the music registered in your ears.
“Sounds like Rooster is already trying to show off to your friend,” Bob teased, glancing over his shoulder as the door opened and a small group of rowdy sailors made their way outside.
“Trust me, Kelsey is probably eating it all up right now,” you assured him with a knowing look.
“My friends are very smooth with the ladies, but they’re also good guys, I promise. Your friends are in good hands,” he told you.
“It’s funny, Penny told us the same thing earlier,” you said.
“Ah, well, no one’s more trustworthy than Penny,” Bob smiled.
You nodded and the two of you sat in silence once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with awkward chatter. You were more than happy to just sit there with him, enjoying the cool evening air and listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
Bob looked like something was on his mind, like he wanted to say something, but was holding back. When you met his eyes and cocked your head to the side curiously, however, he seemed to come to a decision.
“Why were you going to leave?”
You were a little taken aback by his question and immediately dropped your gaze to your lap, fiddling with the strap of your purse and trying to figure out how to answer his question in a way that didn’t make you sound completely pathetic.
“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked that,” Bob chastised himself, shaking his head. “Please, just forget it.”
“No, um, it’s okay,” you reassured him, clearing your throat slightly. You suddenly wished you had thought to grab a cup of water before coming outside. “Um, I guess I just realized that my friends were really hitting it off with your friends, and I didn’t see any point in sticking around any longer.”
Bob seemed troubled by your response, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Wasn’t there anybody for you to talk to?”
You turned your face away in embarrassment. Things had been going so well. You didn’t want Bob to know what a wallflower you truly were.
“Um, no, not really. My friends are the ones guys usually want to talk to,” you admitted quietly, your voice nearly drowned out by the wind. Your mouth felt so dry, and your hands were sweaty as you wiped them against your jeans.
Bob fully frowned at that. “Guys should be lined up out the door to talk to you,” he said softly, his voice serious.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” you murmured, staring down at the table instead of meeting his eyes.
“I’m not just saying it,” Bob insisted, his tone so urgent that it actually caused you to lift your head up to look at him. “You’re sweet and kind and funny and smart and so beautiful. Guys would have to be insane not to want to talk to you. I’m honestly shocked you’re out here talking to me of all people.”
“Don’t say that,” you begged him, your heart hurting to think that other women didn’t appreciate the wonderful man sitting before you.
“I know that I’m not like my friends,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed furiously. “I know I’m not the kind of guy that girls want to talk to. So I know what it’s like to feel like you could just disappear in a place like this and nobody would notice. I hate that you feel that way, too.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had never met anyone before who seemed to know your thoughts so clearly, who could read your mind and understand everything you were feeling.
“Bob,” you breathed out, reaching across the table and clasping one of his hands between both of yours. “I think you’re a terrific guy. And the girls who can’t see that? It’s their loss.”
He smiled at that, his gaze fixed on your face as he rested his free hand over yours, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”
“I’m really glad you asked me to stay.”
He said nothing in response, just held your hand tighter as his blue eyes bore into yours, as if he was reading the very depths of your soul.
The air hung thick with tension as the two of you stared at one another, leaning in closer and closer until your lips had no choice but to meet, his mouth firm, but gentle as it closed over yours.
It was soft and sweet and chaste, but when the two of you pulled back, you were both stammering and blushing like a couple of schoolchildren.
The stillness of the moment was broken a moment later when your friends shoved open the door and spilled out onto the back patio.
“There you are!” Renee exclaimed, hands on her hips as she did her best impression of your mother. “You had us scared half to death!”
“I told you she was fine,” Shawna insisted, rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘Sorry!’ to you.
“See? Nothing to be worried about,” Kelsey added. “She’s with…” She let her sentence trail off, shooting you a look to make quick introductions.
“Um, Bob! This is Bob,” you quickly supplied, squeezing his hand and shooting him an apologetic look.
“She’s with Bob!” Kelsey said, poking Renee in the side.
“Floyd, there you are! We were wondering where the hell you got off to,” Hangman said, joining your group and wrapping an arm around Renee’s waist.
“I guess they did notice we disappeared after all,” you whispered to Bob with a knowing smile.
“Of course we did!” Kelsey butted in, smiling when Rooster stepped up behind her and slipped his hand into hers.
“We were all going to head back to my place for a midnight swim,” Shawna explained, beaming up at Coyote. Your friend’s apartment complex was the only one that had a pool, and her landlord was cool enough to allow residents to use it whenever they wanted, so long as they were mindful of the noise. “Invite your friend!”
Your cheeks grew warm as everyone stared at you expectantly. “Um, Bob, would you like to come swimming with us?”
“I’d love to,” Bob grinned, his eyes fixed on you and only you.
Your friends clapped and cheered, which made your cheeks grow all the hotter.
“C’mon, let’s go close our tabs. Jake’s paying for the Ubers,” Renee smirked, patting the blonde’s chest as she gazed up at him.
“Aww, thanks, Jake,” Coyote grinned, smacking his friend on the shoulder as he and Shawna headed back inside.
“Owe you one, man,” Rooster nodded, leading Kelsey back into the bar.
“Hey, wait a second—”
“That’s what you get for losing two rounds of pool,” Renee teased, planting a kiss on his cheek before dragging him back inside.
Once you and Bob were left alone in the blessed silence once more, you looked at each other and couldn’t help but crack up laughing.
“I think your friends have really met their matches in my friends,” you told him playfully, gathering your things and rising from the picnic table.
“I think so,” Bob nodded, rising as well. “But I think I really met my match in you.”
Smiling, you slipped your hand into his and beamed up at him. “I couldn’t agree more.”
And as you walked out of The Hard Deck hand-in-hand with Bob, catching the victorious looks and playful winks your friends were shooting your way, you found yourself very grateful for all the times it had never worked out for you before this. Because you were certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd had been worth waiting for.
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cinemagal · 1 year
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Lewis Pullman as Bob TOP GUN: MAVERICK (2022)
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sunlightmurdock · 1 month
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you don’t have to be a star | bob floyd
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hey, hey, hey lover, I love you just the way you are.
in which after being outshone by his colleagues, Bob takes a moment of reflection with his soon-to-be wife before bed. For @ohtobeleah’s Galentine's Day Special <3
warnings: Bob being a little insecure, Jake being a little shit, kissing and allusions to sex. Adults cuddling and touching each other, nothing that isn’t PG-13. WC: 2.1k
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Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin is a force of nature, and has been for as long as anyone can remember. For some, he’s intolerable. For others, he’s irresistible. People rarely fall in the middle when it comes to their alignment with Hangman — devotion or despisement.
For you, he’s someone that you will always be indebted to. If it wasn’t for Jake, you would have never met the love of your life.
Two summers ago, you had been at a small gathering for a friend’s party in one of the bars in the Coronado Beach area, and apparently you had caught the eye of the troublesome blonde.
You hadn’t noticed him feigning for your attention with his steely green gaze, or talking about you coolly with his buddies. No, your first experience with Jake was him sauntering up to you, leaning one elbow against the bar and hitting you with a sloped grin. “How’s your night treating ya, sweetheart?”
But, if it wasn’t for Jake Seresin trying his hardest to get into your pants that one night in August, you never would have met Bob.
You would later learn that other people didn’t have quite the same problem you did. As Jake had swept you over to his corner of the bar for a game of pool that he was hoping would lead to much more, you just couldn’t help but notice the man sitting by the window.
His hand curled around a root beer bottle, thin wire-rimmed glasses sitting across the bridge of his nose, and a single chestnut coloured curl dangling onto his forehead.
The routine way he would roll those pretty, Disney-blue eyes, and scoff against his root beer at each smooth line that had rolled off of Jake Seresin’s tongue. Just like you, he knew Jake’s game, and didn’t find it a particularly engaging one to play.
Long after the sun had set and right about the time last orders were called, Jake still hadn’t seemed to give up on the idea of taking you home — and he was being nice about it — but your mind had been made up a long time before.
You had just sunk the eight-ball, and Jake was calling for a rematch. Your lips had just quirked softly, hoping that he would take the hint after this one. “I think I’d rather look for a more worthy opponent.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake had grinned to you, heavily amused by the idea of there being anyone in this bar more worthy than himself. “Like who?”
Bob remembers bashfully how you had turned to him, cocked your head and smiled. God — he probably looked like such an idiot, all shocked like that. He could have been so much cooler, could have answered faster when you had asked,
“How about you?”
But the sheepish nod he had given you seemed to do the trick. He left that evening with your phone number, and now, two years later, he’s wandering through your house in his socks calling your name.
“Damn,” You pop out from the closet a few paces behind him, making him flinch and suck in a sharp breath. “The government name? — What’d I do to deserve that?”
He softens into a smile as he turns around and reaches out for you. Happily, you step out from the closet and let him wrap his arms loosely around your waist.
“Well, the first twenty times I called, you didn’t answer, so,” He leans in real slow, tilting his head to the left and pecks softly at your lips. “Figured I’d try something new, honey.”
“Right, well,” A smile tugs at your lips as you reach up to wipe the transferred lip gloss from his mouth. “What can I help you with, Mr. Floyd?”
Not long now until he gets to call you by that name too. By the end of the year, you’ll be Mrs. Floyd and he still can’t quite believe that he’s so lucky.
“Can’t… figure out this damn thing, d’you think maybe you could help me?” He asks, gesturing down to the unfastened black bow tie around his neck. It makes you smile wider.
All of the wonderful, incredible things that Bob Floyd can do, and he just can’t figure out a bow tie.
“Sure thing, handsome,” You tell him, hands already getting to work with evening out the sides around his collar. “If you’ll reach up on that top shelf in there and grab my shoes once I’m done.”
Ah, so that’s why you were hiding in the closet. Bob hums. “Sounds like a fair deal.”
As you fasten the black silk into a uniformed bow, Bob glances down at your dress, and then back up to study your face. “You look beautiful.”
“Yeah.” You answer playfully, plucking at the bow to test its sturdiness, and dipping in for another kiss. Firm and longing — giving you an idea of exactly how he’s planning to start getting you out of that dress later tonight.
Tonight is Bradley Bradshaw’s thirty-sixth birthday party, organized by his wife. She pulled out all the stops and required a black-tie dress code. Her events are always good fun and tonight is no different.
A buzzing garden party with string lights and music — some of it provided by Rooster himself. Photos of Bradley through his adulthood and adolescence are strung up around the party, reminders of how loved he is by the people around him.
It’s an incredible night. You have a blast, laughing and dancing with the people you have grown to love over the course of your relationship with Bob.
But, on the drive home, you can’t help but notice that something seems to have rattled your soon-to-be husband. He’s quiet in the car. Once you’re home, he sulks inside and kicks his shoes off in the hall, shaking off his bow tie and heading straight for the bedroom.
Curious, you follow behind him with furrowed brows.
“Hold it right there, mister.” You tease him, making him stop in his tracks. You follow him into the dark bedroom, crossing over the carpeted floor and positioning yourself right in front of him. There’s a stern look on your face, peering up at him.
“Robert Floyd, are you bored of my company or something?”
He scoffs weakly, fingers curling around your waist, then tugging you into him. He nuzzles the tip of his nose into your hair and revels in the smell of your shampoo.
“Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd, baby.” He reminds you. You jab him playfully in the ribs and he chuckles under his breath. “‘M just tired, is all.”
It’s not the truth. Really, Bob has known throughout your relationship with him that you could have done better. Jake wasn’t the only guy after you the night that you met.
Sometimes, it just plays on his mind that maybe you settled when it came to choosing him.
Especially on nights where Hangman shows up in the honeymoon phase with some new girl and makes that everyone else’s business. This wasn’t the first girl he has dangled under your nose, reminding you of what you could have had — playfully, of course. To Jake, it’s all good fun.
To Bob, it’s something different.
You squint up at him dubiously, then reach forwards and untuck his shirt from his pants. His gaze falls, watching you start to unbutton it for him.
“That’s it?” You prompt him, smoothing your palms across his bare stomach and up his chest, pushing his open shirt back off of his shoulders. He curls his fingers into the material of your dress, quiet. Your lips press softly to his clavicle, dragging down the warm skin of his pec.
He closes his eyes and breathes.
“Just… wonder if I’m enough sometimes, I guess.” He rushes out with closed eyes and a firm hold on you, like you could be gone when he opened them again if he couldn’t feel you.
Eyes open, you pull away from his chest and look at him.
“Enough?”
His cheeks grow hot. He starts to bite at his lip, his eyes shifting to the carpet. He’s always messing up with what he says. There’s always a better way to say it, and he never realizes until after.
You can see his brain working away, battling itself as he criticizes his behaviour.
“I’m not — showy.” He stumbles for the words and sighs, leaning his head back. “Sorry. I’m just trying to say… I’m trying to say that I’m sorry that I’m not the kind of guy to sweep you off your feet in front of everyone.”
Oh. This is about Jake. Jake showing off on the dance floor with his new girlfriend, throwing her around like she was weightless and kissing her like he was about to fuck her right then and there.
Your lips quirk at the idea.
He’s quiet as you lean in again, starting at the divet between his collarbones and kissing your way across his shoulder.
“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want to be swept off of my feet in front of everyone?” You ask him, pulling the leather of his belt from the buckle and unfastening it softly. Bob watches you, his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“No, maybe not, but — y’know, you deserve to be… shown off like that.” He mumbles, letting you undress him. He steps out of his slacks and turns you around, gently pulling down the zipper of your dress.
As it hits the ground and you turn to face him once more, he’s surprised to find you smiling at him. Grinning, almost.
“What?” He whispers.
“Sit down, cowboy.” You answer, nodding towards the edge of the bed. He frowns, but complies, perching on the edge of your shared bed. You drape your arms across his shoulders and straddle his hips, humming as you kiss him.
“If I wanted to be Hangman’s trophy, I could have been,” You shrug calmly and your fiancé wrinkles his nose at the thought. “I don’t want anyone else.”
He swallows, letting his open palm flow along the length of your back and down onto your ass.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I want you with me, but I wish… I wish I was more, for you.” Your wedding has been playing on his mind a lot recently — an entire day where all eyes will be on the two of you. You deserve someone who will shine as much as you do.
Kissing his mouth, his jaw, then his temple, you squeeze your arms around his shoulders and rock yourself just slightly in his lap.
“Do you want to know why I said I would marry you, Bobby?” You ask him, stroking a curl back off of his forehead. His arms hook firm around your waist, turning you swiftly and planting his weight on top of you. Mm, he hums.
You smile softly as he leans in to kiss at your neck, tenderly stroking your hair out of the way.
“You’re wonderful, and kind and handsome,” Is a relatively strong starting point, but doesn’t do much to sway him. He keeps on kissing. “Animals love you, which I love. You let me sit on your lap when you play the drums, which is really hot. Your handiwork has saved me from almost electrocuting myself so many times.”
He chuckles against your chest; that one is true.
“You remembered my coffee order the first time that you heard it. You still get scared when I sneak up on you. You took the time to teach me about the things you love, and learn about the things I love.”
Bob glances up at you from your navel, pressing a soft kiss to your skin, his palms smoothing along your thighs.
“You’re the last person I think about at night, and the first person I think about in the morning,” You tell him, stroking your fingers tenderly through his curls. He sits up and covers your body with his once more, kissing your mouth. Inches from his face, you lift your palm and stroke your fingers across his cheek. “You’re funnier than anyone I know, and I love that our inside jokes are just ours. So much of our life is just ours.”
He nods his head, his nose brushing your cheek.
“Doesn’t all of that sound like enough?” You ask him.
He leans in for another kiss, soft and slow, rather than answering you.
“You don’t have to be like those guys for me to love you, Bobby,” You decide, secure in the decision and equally secure in the ring that sits on your finger. His lips quirk softly as your legs wrap around his waist. “All I want is the way that you love me, and understand me, and all of you — for the rest of my life.”
Smiling finally, he nudges the tip of his nose against yours and kisses you deeply, pressing you down into your shared bed.
“That sounds like a fair deal.”
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attapullman · 4 months
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Robert From Next Door | Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings & Notes: Robert "Bob" Floyd x gn!reader, extremely fluffy, food mentions, heavy making out, shirtless Bob, only referred to as Robert for the series, unrealistic expectations of next door neighbors, 18+ as always. This idea hit me like a bus while walking the dog (where I almost was hit by a bus) and has been fully unable to leave my brain since then. Cozy, sweet, overly helpful Neighbor!Bob is literally all I want for Christmas. And he's my holiday present to all of you!
robert from next door | if only the neighbors knew
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“I have a ladder you can borrow.” You look up from the box of Christmas lights you’re detangling in the garage to see your neighbor standing in the opening to the street. Coffee mug in hand as he watches you loop out another knot. He’d noticed your garage open that morning, too early for a Saturday, and came to investigate or possibly offer assistance. If there is one thing Robert Floyd does best, it’s help his neighbors.
You had moved into the tidy bungalow just under a year ago, placing a potted fern on the doorstep and painting over the dated beige walls. It was finally starting to feel like a home. Now with the holidays approaching (as reminded by the entirely too jolly Santas everywhere in town) you were excited to start new traditions in your humble home. And it started with putting twinkling lights on the house, lights currently tangled in the cardboard box you haphazardly threw them in twelve months ago. 
Threading out another knot, you give him a playful smile. “How do you know I don’t have a ladder?”
“Lucky guess?” He’s not going to admit he’s scanned and memorized nearly every inch of your garage.
The day after the moving truck came and went, you were thrilled when your first new neighbor rang your doorbell. While you had expected some middle aged woman with a plate of brownies and a plea for babysitting, you were pleasantly surprised at the man in a flight suit (Lt. Robert Floyd according to the stitching) with the striking blue eyes who stood there instead. He didn’t have brownies, but he happily gave you the lowdown on the neighborhood as you sat amongst moving boxes drinking lemonade out of paper cups. 
As the months passed, an easy friendship had developed amongst neighbors. In the morning before making his way to base, Robert would scoop up your morning paper and walk it up the seven steps to your porch. The paper boy always threw it short. And despite numerous pleas to leave it be - you didn’t mind the short walk - every morning when you went for the paper, there it sat neatly on your mat along with any misdelivered mail.
And when he wasn’t saving kittens from trees in his free time, Robert was a shining example of a great neighbor. Driving his truck for a trip to get plants at the nursery, lending his mower when yours broke in the heat of July, cleaning your gutters when the leaves fell…you shouldn’t be surprised he’s now offering up his ladder so you can enjoy your Christmas lights. Looking down at the tangled mess, you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get them actually on the house. Nails? Did you even own nails?
Not even an hour later you’re standing on the sidewalk facing your home with a hot cup of coffee in your chilly hands. Propped up on a ladder with detangled lights in one hand - and a tool belt around his waist like your personal Mr. Fix It - Robert hums to himself as he hammers nails into the trim before wrapping the first strand of lights in place. 
You had accepted his ladder graciously, but mentioned you needed to hit the hardware store first for nails. With a nod of his head he left your garage and you continued on the lights. It was a tedious project, but rewarding once the final strand lay flat against the concrete floor. You were digging around in boxes for tools when your neighbor reappeared. He had a ladder and his tool belt, a full box of nails clutched in his large hand. Cheeks warm, you assured him you would buy your own. He let out a playful pfft.
“Nonsense. It’s Saturday, the hardware store will be packed. Consider them an early Christmas gift.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Let me at least trade you for them? A cup of coffee?”
“Do you still have those Kona beans?” His ocean blue eyes are hopeful.
Your smile widened as you nodded. The overpriced beans you had expensively shipped every month were a favourite of the weapons systems officer. Last month you had hosted the homeowners association meeting (for the first and hopefully only time) and Robert had raved about the coffee you served. He was used to the basic stuff they made on base, his own home brewing not much better. Your coffee was the best.
When you came back to the garage after whipping up a carafe - hot mug in hand - you shouldn’t have been surprised to see your neighbor already up the ladder, deep into the project.
You holler up to him. “Robert, get down! You don’t need to do that!”
But he waves you off, insisting that he had already started and might as well finish the job. He would just drink your delicious coffee once he was done. And so you were relegated to the sidewalk to make sure everything looked straight from the street. 
From this distance you could admire him innocently. The military-issue wire frames that catch the morning sun. Broad shoulders under the neat canvas barn coat he recently replaced when the corduroy collar ripped. His strong hands shielded from the chilled wind under his workman’s gloves. Because someone like Robert Floyd follows safety precautions and owns workman’s gloves. 
At this angle you can see the slight smile on his lips as he strings lights along your porch. For the next hour you watch him put up lights, him occasionally turning back and asking you how they look.
“Are you sure they’re straight?” You promise him they are, but he meticulously checks his work anyway. He wants your house to look perfect. 
The wind has tinged both your cheeks a deep pink and the cold is starting to seep through boots. Robert has nailed the last of your lights to the trim and deemed them faultless. He comes down the ladder and walks to stand beside you to admire his handiwork. Hands on hips - with that damn tool belt still astride his waist - he turns to you beaming at a job well done. It’s impossible not to beam back, thinking how long it would have taken you to do even a job half as good.
“Thank you for putting up the lights. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” He isn’t sure whether your cheeks are red from the cold or something else. “I’m so lucky to have you as a neighbor.”
His smile is permanently stuck at your compliment. He opens his mouth to make a joking comment about the coffee you owe him - anything for more time together - when he feels the telltale buzz in his pocket. Pulling it reluctantly out after shedding a glove, he sees it’s Phoenix and is only semi-annoyed. They have lunch plans, which he’s running late for. And while he’s sure his front seater would approve of him blowing her off for the neighbor he can’t stop talking about, he’s a better friend than that.
Turning back to you, where you’re enjoying your freshly strung twinkling lights, Robert rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I have to head out…lunch plans. Rain check on that coffee?”
Nodding through your disappointment, you help him gather up his ladder and assure him that coffee is his whenever he wants.
The following morning you pad toward your front door, eyes bleary from a deep sleep. The house was cold and you pull your robe tighter around you. Through the glass panel in the door you can see your paper on the mat, as always, ready for you to consume over coffee and toast. As you open the oak door and scurry to shut it with the paper secured, something - or rather someone - catches your eye. 
Robert stands in the doorway of his own bungalow, calmly watching the neighborhood. The thick fair isle sweater covering his wide shoulders looks incredibly cozy, and he nurses a mug between both hands. He exists in that moment without worry, and you’re envious. 
His placid expression is broken when he feels your eyes, turning his head to see you, bedhead and newspaper clutched in your fist. His lips turn in a warm smile and he raises one hand in a slow, friendly wave. Your heart flutters, utterly taken away with how surely he carries himself, how sweetly he treats others. An emotion quickly squashed when you realize you are still standing in a bathrobe and knobby socks, flying back inside and shutting the door with heated cheeks. 
As you go about working on your Sunday chores, you keep picturing Robert’s face, that small happy smile you can’t get out of your head.
Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in the sheets unable to find peace, you finally trudge down the hall into the living room, settling under blankets on the plush couch with a cup of chamomile. You’ve lost details of the plot of the movie you started, brain racing as your fingers fidget with the mug. 
The faint trill of your phone on the coffee table breaks you from your thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Bo-Robert…from next door?” You yawn a hello while checking the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. “I just wanted to check if everything was alright? Noticed your lights were on.” 
A warm feeling spreads through your chest at his concern. Picturing him peering out his kitchen window with the striped cotton curtains, filling up his own kettle, distressed that your house lights were on so late. You’d like to think he wore tartan pajamas, neatly buttoned. Those would suit him. 
You settle back into the cushions as you reply. “Everything’s fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”
His thoughtful nod can practically be heard through the phone.
“Better question is, what are you doing up so late?” 
The whistle and clink of boiling water and china crash over the line. A sigh pulled from his lips before responding. “I was going to make myself a cup of tea while I finished some reports, but appears that I am out.”
You glance down at your own mug of tea. It’s late, but not that late.
“What kind of tea do you like?” He muses on about his lack of preference - an equal opportunity tea lover - before admitting he was looking forward to a cup of peppermint. You make your way to the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you both open your cupboards. Your voice feels small as you offer, “I think I might have some.”
A silence lingers on the line. An unspoken late night implication that neither of you knows what to make of it. Your fingers flip through boxes of tea that take up too much cupboard space. Pomegranate, green, oolong. You don’t even drink tea that often. But right as you think you have too many white teas, you see the striped box of peppermint tea, one lone bag waiting for its turn.
You empty the box and walk to the window in your kitchen, where you can see the faint light on through his curtains. You clear your throat. “Look out your kitchen window.”
To your disappointment, Robert does not wear tartan pajamas to sleep. Although you are delighted to see his shirtless chest, defined from years of Navy training. He waves at you through your respective kitchen windows, holding up his mug of hot water. You lift up the tea bag, and his face splits into a toothy smile.
Before you can offer to bring it to him, he’s already turning toward his front door, speaking into the phone, “I’ll be over, just a minute. Need to find my coat.”
By the time there’s a soft knock on the door, you’ve turned on the kettle and gotten a fresh mug for him. You open the door, greeted by the tip of his nose and ears a merry red, the cold kissing his features. He’s been outside all of a minute. You usher your neighbor in, watching him observe how you’ve put up garlands and festive knickknacks in the entry since his last visit.
He slips off his boots, bare feet settling on the cold hardwood, and fingers the collar of his canvas barn coat. In his rush to come over he’d thrown his coat on forgetting his bare chest. It feels obnoxious to be half naked in your home, so he keeps his coat on and follows you to the kitchen. 
“Peppermint still good?” You tease, the packet of tea leaves in your hand. He nods, slightly distracted by how cozy you look in your soft loungewear and the robe from this morning. Dunking the bag into the hot water, you search for a topic to pass the steeping time. But when you turn to talk to him, words catch in your throat because he’s right there.
Eyes so blue the sky is jealous. Shy smile so friendly it warms the room. Your thoughts dirtily flit to the tool belt around his waist on the ladder, fingers adeptly wielding a hammer. Fingers that brush yours in the proximity. He’s so close and your brain blanks as bodies simultaneously take action.
Your mouths find each other effortlessly, bodies pressing together as if they know the moves the two of you were just figuring out. The low-lying tension building for the past year breaking the surface as the dark of the house gives you both the bravery needed. His hands are cold as they find your waist, your hands too warm on his chilled jaw.
His mouth is all soft lips and hard pressure, the faint hint of toothpaste in his taste. It’s exactly as you imagined, but better.
Lips become more desperate the longer you connect, your back suddenly against the counter as he presses into you. This moment has been building since he’d watched you first walk up the front steps with that too big moving box. A hand slips into his sun-bleached locks he always has so perfectly combed. He moans into your mouth, a sinful noise in the quiet kitchen. 
Before sense can interrupt, you’re reaching for the zipper of his coat, revealing every inch of his toned pale chest as the zipper slowly comes down. You slide a hand over the skin, a low gasp slipping out at the strong muscle. You’ve been attracted to his mind for so long, it feels unfair his body should be attractive too.
He shrugs out of the barn coat and follows you to the lowly lit living room, where the couch is softer on your back than the counter edge. Sitting side by side, knees knocking, he’s more hesitant to touch you in this context. Despite his body screaming to explore every inch of his pretty neighbor’s mind and body, he knows he’s basically barged into your home and immediately stuck his tongue in your sweet mouth. You get to set the pace. 
“This okay?” His hand encompasses your knee, thumb rubbing smoothly through the fabric. You nod, tilting your head toward him to continue kissing. He’s warmed up now, your home and body bringing him to temperature. Robert smiles into your kiss. You can’t get enough of him, wanting to consume him fully. He’s delicate with you in the most delicious of ways; gentle kisses pressed to your soft lips before sliding his tongue across to politely ask for access.
Your mouth can’t open fast enough.
You place you hand on his hip, enjoying the warm skin and lean muscle beneath your fingertips. Groaning lightly into your mouth, he blindly reaches for your hips to bring you into his lap. His tongue takes its time to taste you, learn every intricacy of your flavor. Administration so thorough your eyes roll back in your head. The sounds escaping you music in the darkened room.
Fingers dance across skin, finding purchase on thighs, shoulders, chests. You can’t get close enough to him, resting one hand on the back of his neck as your swollen lips press harder to his. Robert loves the way your thighs straddle him as he leans against the couch cushions, his warm, large hands along your back bringing you closer to him. Your sharp inhale as one hand toys with the waistband of your lounge pants.
When his lips trail down your neck, praising the delicate skin, you can’t hold back your declaration any longer. “I…I’ve wanted this for a while.”
His lips pause, brow furrowed. “This?”
“You.”
That gratified smile will forever be imprinted along your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in.”
The whimpers that rip through you when he nips the thin skin behind your ear have him grabbing your chin and swallowing your sounds. Reveling in the shared passion you’ve both had simmering beneath the surface. Can’t help his hips rutting up into yours, glorious friction he’s been craving satisfied. You giggle through a moan against his lips.
“So, we could have been doing this all year long? What a shame, lieutenant.” 
You ground down in his lap, running your own tongue along his lips and savoring his taste. Thoughts of what he tastes like after his peppermint tea have you wrapping your arms tighter around his bare shoulders. Behind his head, outside the window, the faint glow of the Christmas lights he strung up shines in the winter night. How did you find this perfect man, and how is he your neighbor?
You express your gratitude for him with your mouth along his jaw, licking along the skin while he deliciously whimpers in your ear.You can only take so much before you’re sealing your lips over his again, inhaling his every breath.
As lips finally reach exhaustion - brains well past tired as the clock strikes a new hour - Robert and you pull apart with content smiles. Already cold without his warmth, you immediately lean back into him. He’s practically a furnace now under your ministrations. Unspoken words pass between as you invite him to sleep on your couch with you. A throw blanket produced from the nearby chair as the two of you tangle your limbs. There’s something comforting in the way he rests your head upon his arm, your knee upon his thigh. Again, it’s like your bodies know the actions like they’ve been waiting for you to finally figure them out.
You’ve just settled your head upon his warm chest when a thought strikes you, prompting you to lean up to look at those sleepy cerulean eyes. The small curious smile he gives you melting your heart.
“Did you still want your tea?” 
He shakes his head with a chuckle, using the last of his energy to tuck the blanket tighter around your body. “It’s okay. I got what I really wanted.”
Your heart feels two sizes too big as he presses a kiss to your temple before sleep takes you both. 
When the winter sunrise streams through your curtains the next morning, you refuse to get up. Perfectly warm wrapped up in the thin throw and your neighbor’s arms, you are purely too content. When Robert blinks open his eyes and gazes at your face, he sees the same placid smile he wore the morning before. The same one he’s had since you moved in next door. 
Despite both being all too happy to remain entangled on the couch, sharing small kisses on any skin within reach, the responsibilities of Monday morning dawn and you must get up. Reluctantly you release him, watching him fold the throw neatly upon the sofa arm before helping you stand. Warmth blossoms down your spine the more you’re in Robert’s presence, the little things he does meaning so much to you. Especially as he strides through your home shirtless, musing about the whereabouts of his coat on the kitchen floor.
Your eyes flit to the cold mug of abandoned peppermint tea as you offer him coffee. But he’s intent on getting home for his flight suit, the drive to base longer than he’d like. Of course, he would ideally spend the morning drinking your expensive delicious coffee and listen to you go on about the neighbors down the street with the atrocious holiday decorations. If you’d let him, he would spend every morning like that for the rest of time. But his admiral would put him in drills all week if he was any later.
You walk him to the door, robe pulled tight across your chest to keep out the cold. He’s pulled on his boots for the short walk and wraps his arms around you in an intimate embrace, disappointed this perfect night must come to an end. You bury your nose in his jacket-covered chest to enjoy the last of his herbal and citrus scent, hands reluctantly slipping from his middle. He turns to leave and both your hearts pang.
When Robert reaches the end of your path, he bends down and picks up the paper, thrown too short as always. He turns around and retraces his steps, walking back up the steps and straight up to where you reside in the doorway still. Fingers brush as he hands you the newspaper, saving you the walk as he always does. Only this morning he tips his head to press a kiss to your lips.
You’re already adding peppermint tea to your shopping list as you walk back into the house. Just for him.
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see what antics happen at the next HOA meeting
taglist: @callsign-mongoose
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 8 months
Text
Hands to Yourself - Bob
Pairing: Bob / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.7k
This work, all my works, and my blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; Touchiness; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Physical Description, No Y/N
Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.
Master List
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It was impossible to tell just looking at you, but you were just around eight weeks pregnant. And the only people on the planet who knew were you, your doctor, and your husband Bob. And frankly you wanted to keep it that way for now. It just felt that much more special to hold that news.
The only problem? Your husband.
Bob wasn’t huge on PDA, but ever since you found out that you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You would just be standing there and he would come up and rest his hands on your belly as he asked you about your day. If he stopped just a little too harshly while driving, he dropped his hand down to your belly just in case. If you were simply chatting with friends, he would slowly wrap his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your belly.
And you didn’t mind his sudden touchiness. You loved your husband and you might have had a slight personal obsession with his hands for most of your relationship. And you were more than thrilled that he was excited to be a dad and was very much there to support you.
But you didn’t want to give the secret away. Not yet.
Standing with the Dagger Squad and their significant others, you chatted with Phoenix as Bob returned with your ginger ale. You thanked him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your conversation with Phoenix. And before you could even finish your sentence, you felt Bob’s hand snaking around to rest on your belly and pull you subtly back against his chest.
“Can’t let her get too far from you,” Phoenix joked to her backseater, who shrugged in response. “Afraid she might run off?”
“Just love my wife, Phoenix. That a crime?”
“Not at all,” Phoenix drawled, glancing between the two of you suspiciously as she sipped at her beer. “Just an observation.”
Phoenix walked off, being called in to referee some stupid argument between Hangman and Rooster, leaving you and Bob alone. Threading your fingers through his own, you turned and slowly slipped his hand off of your belly.
“You’re going to give it away, Bobby,” you whined playfully, causing Bob to grin at you.
“I’m sorry, darling. It’s just instinct.”
“Just a few more weeks, okay?” you promised, resting your hand on your husband’s chest. “And then you can scream it to the world as loud as you want.”
“I plan on it,” Bob assured you, causing you to smile and press a kiss to his lips.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. And you two,” Bob replied with a wink, causing you to shake your head playfully.
“Am I going to have to listen to terrible dad jokes for the rest of my life now?”
“Small price to pay,” Bob stated, pressing a kiss to your head.
The rest of the night wound down and you and Bob eventually moved to make your exit. Walking inside to the bar, you moved to pay your tab. While you chatted with Penny, Bob came up from behind you and wrapped his hand around, resting it directly on your non-existent bump. He pressed a kiss to your head and told you he had to grab something for Fanboy before walking off.
And when you turned back to Penny, you shrunk a bit at her knowing expression.
“Please don’t tell anyone. It’s still early,” you pleaded, causing her to smile a bit wider.
“Tell anyone what?”
“Thank you,” you breathed out, waving goodbye to Penny before moving to locate your husband. The two of you walked back to the car and within seconds, Bob’s hand was planted firmly on your belly once again, causing you to nudge him in the side. “Penny knows.”
“Knows what?” Bob asked innocently, causing you to shoot him a look. Placing your hand over his own, you motioned with your head down towards your belly, causing Bob to smile a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t help myself.”
“I know, Bobby. It’s okay.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Bob promised, pressing a kiss to your head.
“Yeah?” you replied, grinning up at your husband. “How?”
“I think the usual options will do,” Bob returned with a wink as the two of you reached the car. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Bob reached over and grabbed the door for you. “Take your pick.”
“Oh, I will,” you mused, slipping into the car.
A.N. Why did I pick Bob for the whole hands idea? No reason. None at all.
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Okay maybe there was a reason.
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