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withahappyrefrain · 9 months

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

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

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

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

"Your hands are so big."

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

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

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

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

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

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

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

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

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

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

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

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

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

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

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

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

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

Time for Plan D.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It took everything in you not to scream.

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

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

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

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

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

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

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

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

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

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

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

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

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

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"FINALLY!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Let's go."

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

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

"Making up for lost time!"

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

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

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

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

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

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

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

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

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

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

"I would love that Robby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"As most things are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#my writing #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #bob top gun #top gun bob #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

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Bob and AdmiralsDaughter!Reader where the dagger squad finds out he's dating/engaged/married (whichever)

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 @bradshawsbitch 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱!!!

𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬

𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

"Yeah, the little white one is Pearl," you excitedly tell the Dagger Squad as you scroll through the photos of your newest foster kittens. "And the little brown tabby is Poppy!"

You're leaning over a table in the training room, grinning ear-to-ear as you show off the billion pictures you've taken of the sweet little kittens that have been consuming your life.

The squad is doing everything in their power to show interest in the photos, swallowing yawns and making over-exaggerated nodding motions when you turn to look for their approval. It isn't just that they love you and genuinely wouldn't want to seem uninterested in something so important to you, but it's also that your dad could have their heads mounted on the walls if they so much as upset you.

You're a Simpson--Cyclone's only daughter and youngest child--but you couldn't be more opposite of your father. You're a bubbly person by nature, someone who could talk to a brick wall. You're the kind of person that could ruin their favorite jeans and still somehow have a good day.

Rooster and Phoenix have their arms crossed as you scroll through the endless pictures, one blurry picture of a little kitten to the next. But they adore you--you're grinning so big that you could light up a dark room. So they keep watching, smiling and nodding.

Bob's watching from across the room very subtly. At this point, the two of you have mastered subtly. As much as he wishes he could be one of the people that crowds around you to look at kitten pictures, he knows that he wouldn't be able to help himself from getting a little too close to you. He doesn't think he'd be able to stop himself from pecking your cheek or wrapping his arm around your waist. So he doesn't go out of his way to be overly affectionate to you when he sees you around on base, which is often. He's Bob, which means he's overtly polite and overly-nice, and he treats you the same as he'd treat anyone else on base. But it's these little stolen glances that keeps him going throughout the day--just ticking the minutes until the day is over and he can go home to you and your kittens. There he can do whatever he damn well pleases with you without having to worry about prying eyes.

"Oh, and just look at this video I got of Poppy..." you laugh, scrolling quickly through your camera roll in search of a video of Poppy trying to climb the sofa.

Your heart jumps in your throat when you pass the picture. It's quick, really, just a fleeting image across your screen. But you know what it is: it's the picture you took of Bob napping with the kittens the other day. It's unmistakably Bob, too, despite his stubble and un-gelled hair. You're praying no one else saw it, praying that everyone's lost interest by now.

But you have six of some of the world's greatest Fighter Pilots around you, watching your phone with their eagle-eyes. Nothing really gets past them.

"Wait," Hangman interrupts, pointing to the phone with furrowed brows. "Go back."

The rest of the squad makes a sound of agreement and you try to stutter something back, something that resembles an excuse, but then Rooster is reaching out himself and swiping back through the photos.

The chorus of gasps that fill the room draw Bob out of his trance. He looks away from where your fingers are curled around your phone and sees that all six of his squad-mates are staring at him with their jaws slacked and their eyes wide. Except Hangman--no, he's grinning ear-to-ear. You're already looking at Bob, too, apologetically grimacing and mouthing I'm so sorry to him.

"Bob Floyd," Phoenix starts lowly, glancing down at the picture again. Her voice is stained with disbelief--how could she have missed you and Bob? She loved both of you so much and Hell, she even trusted Bob with her life. How could she have not known before?

"You sly, sly dog," Coyote says, grinning, clapping you on the shoulder.

"Simpson's daughter?" Fanboy adds, like you aren't standing right there. "Floyd, you animal!"

What the squadron doesn't know is that your father is actually quite fond of Bob--he even insists that Bob call him Beau. They've shared a couple glasses of good scotch and Simpson has even invited Bob to play golf a couple of Sunday's. Really, your relationship is only a secret from the squadron--and you feel vindicated for making that decision as you watch all of them scramble to pat Bob on the shoulder.

"Well, I'll be damned," Rooster whistles with an impressed grin, squeezing your arm. "You and Bobby Floyd."

You're blushing something fierce, watching as Bob flushes at all the sudden attention, not confident enough to stand while the boys ruffle his hair.

"Guess the cat's out of the bag," Bob finally manages to say, laughing dryly at his poorly-timed pun.

Payback grins at you.

"You're a lucky lady, aren't you?"

The truth is you are a lucky lady. You and Bob have been together for longer than any of the squadron would ever guess, carefully tip-toeing around base when you see each other to not draw attention to situation. Bob makes your coffee every morning and you adopt kittens together. You iron Bob's uniform because you used to do it for your father and you think Bob is just as important. You dance on sunlit porches and share good wine with your family on Saturday nights after big dinners. Bob's the best person you've ever met.

And Bob knows that really, he's the lucky one here. Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to the world--period. You're funny, like the kind of funny that has him laughing before the sun's even come up and he didn't think that was possible. You still get excited every time he comes home, racing to the foyer and smashing your lips against his as you chatter about your day and help him unlace his boots. You're the kind of person that will bottle-feed kittens every two hours and not so much as complain about it, not even when the feedings are at three in the morning.

The two of you are totally and completely in love--you have been for a while. But, yes, Bob's right: the cat is out of the bag now.

"I am a lucky lady," you tell Payback, locking your phone and making your way over to Bob with a sweet, sweet smile.

here is my tag list!!

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐟𝐢 ☺

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ereardon · 3 months

Text

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand

Masterlist here

You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.

You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses.

“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother.

“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you.

“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.”

You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous.

Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right?

Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally.

Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.”

Jake. Your stomach did a somersault.

Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.

The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips.

You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again.

And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed.

You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up.

***

Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.

Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster.

Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation.

“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?”

“They’re nice,” you said.

“That’s it? Nice?”

You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.”

Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together.

“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn.

“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.”

“Then I’d be lying.”

“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brother™ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered.

“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.”

“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.”

“What’s the plan, Duck?”

“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.”

“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.”

“You sound like mom.”

“And we both know she’s never wrong.”

You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Duck—”

You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.”

That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child.

The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall.

“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.”

You grimaced. “Sounds good.”

“Leave at nine?”

“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him.

What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again?

***

“Floyd!”

You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.”

“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?”

Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.”

“I’m not much of a planner.”

Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.”

“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.”

“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.”

You frowned. “What kind of history?”

Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.”

You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.”

“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked.

“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks.

You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts.

“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head.

You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor.

“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact.

“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier.

Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?”

Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them.

You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck.

It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck.

“Mind if I join?”

You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?”

He frowned. “Don’t be like that.”

“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.”

He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”

“Wouldn’t have fucked me?”

He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.”

Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.”

You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?”

He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it.

“Happy birthday.”

He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy.

You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before.

How would they ever catch you in your lie?

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away

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intricatechaosofyou · 1 year

Text

Blind Date Gone…Wrong?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

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

Warnings: drinking, alcohol, language

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

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

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

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

Ten minutes turned into thirty.

And thirty minutes had turned into forty.

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

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

He wasn’t coming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

You smiled. “So, your name’s Bob?”

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

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

“Yes, ma’am. How’d you know?”

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

“I guess you’re right,” Bob chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Bob.”

“Anytime, Darlin’.”

———————

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

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

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

“Suspended for two weeks.”

“And the other kid?”

“Nothing.”

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

“School didn’t see it that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Phoenix?” You question, tilting your head.

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

“So what’s yours?”

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

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

“Really?”

“Yeah, short and sweet.”

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

“Definitely,” you replied with a wink.

———————

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

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

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

“Then to repay you for your company.”

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

“‘Next time?’”

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“Next Friday?” Bob suggested.

“It’s a date.”

———————

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

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

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

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

Bob nodded. “Six o’clock.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Bob.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

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

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

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

“Better than that,” he whispered.

“I should get going.”

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

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

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

TAGLIST

@pono-pura-vida

#lewis pullman #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #top gun bob #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun fluff #top gun maverick #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x y/n #robert floyd #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader

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sebsxphia · 8 months

Note

Imagine

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

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

￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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floydsmuse · 2 months

Text

I will ease your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,

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

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

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

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fic #lewis pullman #floydsmuse

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justabigassnerd · 10 months

Text

Baby on Board's... Baby?

Pairing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,799

Warnings - talks of being left out, pretty much just fluff

Summary - the Daggers find out Bob has a kid and short circuit at the news

A/N - it's fic time! I'm so sorry for how long it's taken for me to get a fic out, I've been going through some shit and I'm only just feeling up to writing. this may not be the best thing I've written, Bob is really fucking hard to write but I have to give a shoutout to @maverick-wingman and @horseslovers2016 for the peer pressure otherwise this fic wouldn't exist in the first place. anyways I'll stop rambling now, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Your grip on your dad’s hand tightened as he leads you towards the looming doors of the Hard Deck.

“You okay, y/n/n?” Bob asks as he stops, turning to face you and crouching down to be at your height. You remain silent, thinking about whether you wanted to tell your dad how you were feeling.

“I’m scared.” You eventually admit, looking down at your shoes as your dad’s face softens at your words.

“Oh, sweet pea, it’s okay to be scared, this is a new place with new people. We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. But Phoenix is going to be there, and everyone else is so nice I just know they’ll love you.” Bob says softly, smiling as he notices you perk up at the mention of Phoenix being there.

“Nix?” You ask, your eyes lighting up at the thought of seeing your beloved godmother.

“Yeah, Phoenix is here.” Bob says with a smile as you look to the door of the Hard Deck, eager to see your other favourite human. You hold your arms up as an indication that you want to be picked up and Bob obliges, scooping you up and sitting you on his hip.

“Remember jellybean, if you want to go home, let me know and we’ll head home.” Bob whispers reassuringly, waiting for you to nod before he pushes the door open, searching for his squadron while you eagerly search for Phoenix, using you being in your dad’s arms as a vantage point.

“Nix!” You call out when you see your godmother amongst a group and wiggle to get out of your dad’s arms so you can rush over to Phoenix.

“Hello, y/n/n. How’s my favourite princess doing?” Phoenix beams as she scoops you up effortlessly the moment you reach her, cuddling you close as you giggle, your little arms hugging her as fiercely as you can.

“You got a kid, Phoenix?” Payback questions, eyebrow raised at the sight before him, having missed you calling out to Phoenix and only saw her scooping you up and hugging you tight. At Payback’s words, the rest of the Daggers watched Phoenix carefully as Bob joined the group, unnoticed by everyone.

“I’m her godmother. She’s not mine. She’s Bob’s.” Phoenix says, and at her words, everyone is made hyper-aware of Bob’s presence nearby and Hangman chokes on his beer, coughing loudly as Coyote slaps him harshly on the back.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that Baby on Board actually has a baby?” Hangman manages to say once he’s recovered enough to speak, eye wide as he looks from you in Phoenix’s arms to Bob.

“And you kept her a secret since we met?” Fanboy pesters, shock written all over his face at the realisation of how long Bob had been keeping his daughter a secret from the squadron.

“She stayed with my parents when we were initially called back, I thought it would be a short detachment but when it became permanent, I bought a place and now this is home for us.” Bob says, crossing to Phoenix and skilfully taking you in his arms.

“Then why did you tell Phoenix but not us?” Rooster asks quietly, all of the Daggers wearing a slightly hurt expressions that they were left out of this.

“I figured you guys wouldn’t really care. You guys became your own little group and I’m usually on the sidelines, so I thought it wasn’t worth wasting my breath trying to tell you guys because you’d rather talk about training or dart tournaments. But also y/n is very shy, and you guys can get quite loud, so I wanted to take things at her pace.” Bob explains with a light shrug, a small smile crossing his face when you cuddle closer, burying your face in his neck before you look out at all the people watching you curiously. At Bob’s words the Daggers exchange sorrowful looks, feeling bad for making Bob feel like he couldn’t talk to them or be open about things if he wanted. They knew Bob was quieter than most of the Dagger Squad and he had a tendency to slip away into the background because of how rowdy and loud the group could be. They also knew he was close with Phoenix; it shouldn’t come as a surprise to them at all. Most pilots got on well with their WSOs, they needed to have a strong trust between them, and Phoenix was the first person to act welcoming towards Bob when the team became aware of his presence that first night in the Hard Deck.

“Hey, we’re really sorry man. We never meant to make you feel like you weren’t part of the group, because you are. You’re a badass and have been since the uranium mission. You got a lock on the structure which is more than I can say, we’re lucky Rooster managed to drop blind and hit the target.” Fanboy says, looking down and then glancing back up as Bob moves, handing you to Phoenix so he could cross to Fanboy.

“Don’t put yourself down Fanboy, you were picked for the mission for a reason, and you’ve been picked for more since then. You’re a great wizzo, Payback’s lucky to have you.” Bob says, patting Fanboy on the shoulder and glancing over at Payback who nods in agreement before clapping Fanboy on the back as Bob moves back to Phoenix, taking you in his arms. As Bob takes you back into his arms, the team exchange knowing nods, vowing that they’ll never let Bob feel like his thoughts and stories didn’t matter as much and that they’d include him more. As they looked back at Bob, they caught Phoenix’s eye who simply raised an eyebrow. She had stayed quiet on Bob’s request because he didn’t want to be a bother although Phoenix insisted, he’d never be a bother to her or the team. Part of her had hoped the team would notice that Bob had a tendency to disappear into the background and that they’d include him a little more but apparently, it took Bob bringing his daughter to actually get attention.

“So, how old’s baby Bob?” Payback asks, the team keeping a distance so as to not overwhelm you. You heard Payback’s question and held up three fingers while keeping yourself as buried in your dad’s embrace as possible.

“Three? Damn, kid that’s the best age to be.” Hangman says with a grin, making you look at him, offering him a small smile when you make eye contact. Intrigued by the man who had told you that being three was the best, you squirmed in your dad’s arms, requesting to be put down and when Bob obliged, you toddled over to Hangman, looking up at him curiously before holding your arms up for him to pick you up. Hangman looked over at Bob who nodded, giving him permission to scoop you up into his arms as you giggled. Hangman carefully navigated sitting you on his shoulders, holding on to your legs as you admire being high up. Hangman carefully walks over to the jukebox, taking you off his shoulders, sitting you back on his hip and pointing out which buttons you need to press to play a song, making sure it was appropriate for you to listen to. After putting the song on, Jake places you down on the floor and dances with you, twirling you effortlessly as you giggle and dance along to the music as the Daggers watch on with large smiles. When the song ends, the Daggers clap as you dart back over to your dad and are immediately scooped up into your dads’ arms. Rooster quirked an eyebrow when he noticed you turn your attention to the piano, looking at it curiously.

“Does y/n like piano?” Rooster asks, crossing to Bob who notices your stare at the piano.

“My parents have one at their house, but it mostly sits there collecting dust. It probably reminds her of her grandparents.” Bob says, bouncing you lightly on his hip. Getting an idea, Rooster crosses to the jukebox and unplugs it, eliciting a groan from every patron in the bar as Rooster sat himself at the piano, playing some light notes, his fingers dancing across the keys masterfully. Bob and the others cross to the piano, knowing where Rooster is going with his piano playing. Bob sits you on top of the piano, keeping a hand braced on your back just in case you leant back too far, and Rooster then began playing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ getting the whole bar singing in seconds. You picked up the ‘goodness gracious, great balls of fire’ lyric quickly and were soon attempting to join in whenever the bar sang that one lyric. When the song concludes, you clap as loud as your little hands will allow as the patron’s whoop and cheer. Bob picks you back up and everyone moves to sit down at tables to converse some more over some drinks and snacks. The Daggers involve Bob in their conversations and ask questions about not only him but you, arranging a day for you, your dad, and the team to go to the beach to spend some more time together, naming themselves your new cool uncles, earning a raised eyebrow from Phoenix and Bob. The moment a small yawn slipped past your lips; Bob was up on his feet instantly while keeping you in his arms.

“I should think about heading home, it’s almost y/n’s bedtime.” Bob says, addressing the Daggers who all bid him and you goodnight as Phoenix gets to her feet.

“Night night y/n/n.” Phoenix whispers, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Night night, Nix.” You mumble, clinging to your dad and burying your face in his shirt as you wave goodbye to the rest of the Daggers who give you waves of their own. Bob then exits the Hard Deck, crossing to his car and buckling you into your car seat before brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Unbeknownst to Bob, Hangman crossed to the door of the bar, leaning against the frame as he watches the car pull away. The second the car was out of his line of sight he entered the bar, eyes gleaming with joy at what he had seen as he crosses back to the Daggers who all, bar Phoenix, looked up at him with bated breath, each of them hoping they won the bet the team had quickly made. All eyes were on Hangman as he opened his mouth to speak.

“He’s got a baby on board sign in the window.”

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Chronos // Robert Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob told you that Chronos carried a sickle, that he used it to cut a hole, a tear in the cosmos between heaven and earth. Chronos did that to separate this world from the next, to separate the known from the unknown.

And while someone by the name of Pete Mitchell told you over the phone that your husband had been involved in a training accident….Well—you felt as if you'd fallen straight into it.

Warnings: Bob Floyd x Pregnant F!reader. F-18 accident. Medical inaccuracies. Birth. Bob Whump, ANGST. Major character death.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author Note: Today is Monday, for most of you it’s Sunday: Please enjoy this oneshot that’s been a work in progress since the 28th of March. ~ Last minute title name change. I’m posting this at 4am my time so blow this up.

First there was a storm of carbon and molten rock which begat granite and soil. Then, the land shook and it cracked and it rose till it spiked the sky. Forest grew and died and grew a hundred times again. And then people grew and died and grew and died a hundred times again. There were storms and seasons and fences and blood. Wonder and vengeance and a whole lot of regret….

And through every grievance, every war, the land and the sky didn't give two shits about any of it. Bob Floyd knew that as he and his front seater, Natasha Phoenix Trance, fell through the sky in a tin bird designed by man, for man to destroy other men….

That it wouldn't give two shits about them either.

“Extinguishing right engine!” There were far too many sounds coming from every system possible as Phoenix tried to regain control of the F-18 that seemed impossible to wrangle. All Bob could think about in those utterly terrifying moments was you.

He’d always made it a promise to come home to you. He knew how much you worried about him, how much the thought of being left behind ping ponged around in your brain. How sometimes you'd stay up all hours of the night hoping that wherever he was and whatever ocean he flew across that he was okay. That he was safe and that he;d come home to you.

Robert Floyd had made you a promise he had every intention of keeping, but he wasn't so sure he could.

“Phoenix, Bob! Punch out! Punch out!” Maverick shouted through the comms as he chased the rogue fighter jet down. Bob looked around at all the warnings flashing in his face, there was nothing left to save except themselves.

“Phoenix there’s warning lights everywhere, we’re in hydraulic failure!” All Bob prayed for in those terrifying moments as his colleagues watched on in pure shock horror from the ground below was that he’d get a chance to tell you he loved you again.

He always told you that he’d come home, that there wasn’t a chance in hell that he wouldn’t. You knew better than to believe Government Property though, Bob knew you knew that there was always a chance. So he promised in the event of his untimely demise that he’d come back to you and wiggle your earlobe. To let you know he made it safe and sound. That you need not worry about him anymore.

You promised him the same thing, because working from home was just as terrifying as flying a multimillion dollar fighter jet.

“I can’t control it!” But as the ground grew closer and closer, Bob knew he wasn’t ready to die, he wasn’t ready to leave you behind and he certainly wasn’t ready to not meet his unborn child.

“We’re going down, Phoenix! We’re going in! We’re going in!” He wasn’t ready to wiggle your ear.

“You can’t save it! eject, eject!” Maverick shouted again, he was watching on like he’d been sucked into some kind of timeloop. He’d seen this happen before. Only he lost his best friend when to this day he thought it should have been him.

“Eject! Eject! Eject!” Were the last three words Bob heard escape from Phoenix’s mouth before he was reaching between his legs to pull at the emergency yellow and black striped handle that sent him flying out of the cockpit. He’d been taught how to handle a situation like this, they all had. Every single naval aviator currently on active duty had been taught what to do when they needed to eject.

But when Bob's head hit the top of the cockpit? He didn’t care for procedures and protocol and what he should or shouldn’t have done in the moment, all he cared about was you and holding on to whatever consciousness he had left as he tumbled through the sky at a rapid pace. Reaching for his parachute in just the nic of time.

Knowing if he hit the ground where the land had shook and cracked and rose till it spiked the sky that it wouldn’t have given a shit. It wouldn’t have been all that forgiving and it certainly wouldn’t have mourned his untimely demise.

So Bob faught until he hit the ground with a not so graceful thud, he hit the ground hard—with an almighty groan as his ribs popped and his head throbbed inside his helmet.

“Ahhh!” He gasped as he clutched at his stomach, forgetting how to breathe as the darkness of tunnel vision claimed its next victim. Unconsciousness overcoming its latest casualty:

Bob Floyd.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bob had asked you once when you were wrapped up in his arms in the dead of the night, listening to the storm raging on outside if you knew anything at all about a Greek God called Chronos. When you had chuckled out a soft no as his lips trailed up your neck and his slightly calloused hands roamed your body like they knew every inch, Bob told you that he carried a sickle, that he used it to cut a hole, a tear in the cosmos between heaven and earth. Chronos did that to separate this world from the next, to separate the known from the unknown.

And while someone by the name of Pete Mitchell told you over the phone that your husband had been involved in a training accident….

Well—you felt as if you'd fallen straight into it.

You felt like you'd fallen into the cosmic existence between now and soon to come, plummeting into a realm where time didn’t exist and light didn’t reach. You tumbled into a parallel dimension where nothing made sense, nothing seemed tangible or real. You descended into a world where Bob Floyd wasn’t around.

“Your husband was involved in an accident during a training exercise this afternoon—“.

At the sound of Pete Maverick Mitchell’s voice explaining that there had been an accident on base during an exercise—you begun to crack, you started slipping further and further into the unknown because Bob had always said he’d never leave and if he did you’d feel him tugging on your earlobe to let you know he got there safe and sound.

There was no one tugging on your earlobe though, no soul that had passed on or ghostly figure watching over you. What there was though, was a radiating warmth between your legs. A wetness that shouldn't have been there.

Had your water just broken?

“Oh—oh god.” You gasped as you looked down, gripping the side of the kitchen island as you groaned out a prolonged, primal moan. You were in labour there was no doubt about it. “Ahh.”

“Mrs Floyd? Are you alright?” The voice on the other end of the line asked with a confused undertone as you watched the seconds tick past on the ongoing call.

“I uh—“ You tried to speak, tried to make sense of what you were hearing, what you were experiencing. Pain in every aspect both physically, emotionally and mentally. “I think my water just broke.”

“Oh—“ Maverick couldn’t suppress his shock nor could he disguise his sudden state of disbelief. “Oh okay, I’ll uh—I'll have an ambulance come by right away.” You replied with a sharp groan. Doubling over as you felt how hard your stomach had truly become. This was happening, everything was happening all at once and you had lost focus in the pain of both worrying about the state your husband was currently in and the fact your baby was on their way. “Mrs Floyd, someone will be there very soon, I’m gonna stay on the line with you until they arrive.”

“I need Bob—“ You’d begun to cry as you kneeled on the kitchen floor before you decided that sitting up against the cabinet with your legs outstretched felt a hell of a lot more comfortable. “I need my husband, I can't do this without him.” You felt warm tears streaming down your cheeks as your bottom lip quivered and another painful contraction rippled through your body. Every fibre of your being ignited in a fireball. “Ahhh—I won’t do this without my husband!”

On the other side of the phone call that had taken a rather drastic turn, Mav looked to Phoenix who was being wheeled into the awaiting ambulance on the tarmac. Bob was next, Pete didn’t have the heart to tell the Weapons Systems Officer that had just escaped death that his wife, who he hadn’t mentioned to a soul beside Phoenix, that his wife’s water had just broken.

“Phoenix, hey—“ Pete stopped the medics briefly, they looked at Pete like he was risking her life by wasting valuable time. But this was just as important. “What’s Bob's wife’s name?” Pete wanted to know so he could be a little more personal.

The truth was Natasha didn’t even know, she’d seen the picture of you in Bob's wallet that he’d shown her, but Bob had only ever called you by your nickname. Bob's beloved term of endearment.

Peach.

“He’s only ever called her Peach, I don’t even know her name.” Phoenix cried. She was still trying to process what had happened—she felt like the blame was all her own to bear. She’d damn near killed her back seater and she didn’t even know his wife’s real name or that you were pregnant. “I nearly killed him and I don’t even know his wife’s name—“

“Hey hey hey.” Mav tried to soothe the clearly shocked pilot. “It wasn’t your fault, it could’ve happened to anyone, Phoenix.” Mav smiled softly as he held the phone back to his ear, he was still yet to call Phoenix's emergency contact, her sister Lily. It wasn’t inherently Mavericks' job to call the emergency contacts listed in Bob and Phoenix’s files, but it was his duty, his responsibility.

He was going to as soon as he’d informed you, however, Pete wasn’t expecting this call to take the turn it had. “Peach, you there?”

There was no answer, Simply whimpers. When you’d doubled over in pain in the kitchen you’d left your phone on the island bench top. It was far too out of reach now as you sat trying to breathe through the latest contraction that bodied you.

“Peach—“ Mav started, but as he did so saw the medics wheeling Bob closer and closer to the ambulance waiting on the tarmac. He couldn’t say anything, not when Bob was still fighting to stay conscious. “Mrs Floyd, someone will be there as soon as they can, I promise.”

“Bbboooooobb—!” You cried out. “I can’t do this!” It was all too much for you to handle, the immense pressure, the anxiety, the fear of losing your husband. “I can’t fucking do this!” You never thought in your wildest dreams you’d have to do this alone. Bob always said he’d be right with you every single step of the way. And up until right now he had been.

“Someone’s coming Peach.” Maverick knew you couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t bring himself to put the phone down. He looked at Bob being wheeled into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher, wondering if his decision to not say anything as of right now was a bad decision. He seemed to always be full of those.

“Someone’s coming—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

By the time Bob was brought back to the North Island Base Hospital, he was very aware that someone would need to call his emergency contact about what had happened. Someone was going to need to call you, he thought it would be best if he was the one who called.

With a throbbing headache and a few cuts and gashes, Bob let the nurses and doctors tend to his aid without much of a fight. He knew he needed the care, knew it was for the best if he just let everyone do their jobs. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon and if he put up a fight they would only keep him admitted for longer.

“You got a partner Robert? A wife or husband that we need to call?” Doctor Austin asked as he shined a light into Bob's eyes, watching carefully as he followed the light side to side.

“I have a wife–” Bob mumbled, his head hurt from when he’d hit the ground not so gracefully but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle as he sat up on the hospital bed with his legs hanging off the side. Phoenix was laying with an ice pack over her eyes on the other bed. “She’s um, she's pregnant, could go any day now.” Doctor Austin chuckled as he clicked his pen light off and placed it into his top pocket. Sending Bob an all knowing look.

“And you thought it was a good idea to fall outta the sky?” Bob's ribs hurt when he laughed softly, cupping at his side as he did so, laughing with the doctor who had cleared him and Natasha of any serious injury. “My good man, I can't say that's a good mix.” But there were still observations that needed to be made and a few more tests just to be sure. He wasn't out of the woods.

“Yeah I think you might be right doc—“ Bob smiled softly. “But can I be the one to call her? She’ll probably take the news a little better if she heard it from me.”

“I’ll see what I can do Lieutenant.” Doctor Austin nodded as he picked up his charts and headed out of the room, leaving Phoenix and Bob in the heavy silence of the aftermath of their near death experience.

“What’s her name?” Phoenix mumbled from behind the ice pack she kept over her eyes.

“Y/n—“ Bob replied softly as he played with the wedding band that was strung through his dog tags. “We’ve been together since high school.”

“Why do you call her Peach?”

“Because she’s as sweet as the peaches from the orchard my grandma used to own.” Bob couldn’t stop himself from bashfully blushing, a hume all consuming crept across the apples of his cheeks whenever he spoke about you. “We’re about to have a baby, the detachment was meant to be my last before I could access my paternity leave entitlements.”

“Rough last assignment—“ Phoenix chuckled as she shook her head in disbelief. Bob agreed silently, it was a rough last assignment. “You don’t talk about her an awful lot do you?”

“I would—“ Bob pressed his lips together. “Just no one really asked.” It was then that Phoenix realised that she didn’t know an awful lot about the man who had gone down with her. The man who sat behind her and had her back in the sky. Her WSO. “And I guess we’re not here for all that long anyway so I just kept her to myself, she’s a nice reminder that even after the rough days we’ve been having I get to go home, safe and in one piece to the woman I love.”

“Do you guys know what your having?” Phoenix didn't mean to pry, but she felt an overwhelming pressure to get to know the person she had been flying with since being requested for this detachment. Bob shook his head in response.

“Nah, we wanted to keep it a surprise.” Just as Bob was finishing his sentences Doctor Austin returned, his face looked all kinds of pale and worry was written in the deep lines across his forehead.

“Lieutenant Floyd it looks as if your wife was just admitted into the maternity ward—“ Bob's heart stopped beating inside his chest as he listened to Doctor Austin. “It appears that she was contacted earlier about your accident and the shock sent her into labour—“

“I uh—I need to see her.” Bob mumbled as he slid off the exam bed and nearly fell to the floor. His knees were so weak from the shock and adrenaline from the accident and now the realisation that he was about to be a first time dad. “I need to see my wife, where is she?”

“Lieutenant, I know this must be a stressful situation for you but I really advise against leaving until we’ve finished with your own test. We still need to get you in for—“

“I won’t miss the birth of my baby.” Bob shook his head in defiance. “No, I won’t leave her to do that alone, she needs me—I know she does because I know how scared she is about doing this alone.”

“Robert—“

“No no you have to listen to me. I can't let her do this alone because I’ve heard her cry about it in the middle of the night.” Phoenix's heart shattered into a million pieces as she watched Bob plead with the doctor and the nurses that had come in to try and subdue him. “She’s scared I won’t come back one day and today was almost that day and now she’s giving birth to our baby alone after I promised I’d be here for her—“

“We can’t let you go, it would be against all my medical advice.” Doctor Austin tried to explain. “I understand the difficulty of the situation Mr Floyd but your health and wellbeing is our number one priority.”

“But you have to let me!! That’s my wife! She needs me! Please—“ You needed your husband, things weren’t travelling all that well in the delivery room. You weren’t ready to have this baby—not if Bob wasn’t there with you. Not if Bob had left you behind, he was too young to die. He couldn’t leave you here by yourself to raise a baby, his baby, on your own. He promised he wouldn’t.

“Mrs Floyd, you are going to have this baby.”

“Aahhhhhh! I’m not doing this without my husband!” You groaned out. You were covered in sweat and crying your heart out as one of the labour and delivery nurses held your hand and placed a cool washcloth to your forehead. “I won’t have this baby without him, do you understand me!”

“Someone needs to contact her husband—“ Everyone from the King of England to the Hounds of Hell could hear you screaming. It had been a rather quiet day for the L&D department. Until the ambulance had brought you in.

“We can’t reach him, but I’ll try again.” One of the intern labour and delivery nurses replied as she rushed out of the room, she sprinted towards the nurses station in a hurry. So fast she almost went straight past it, she came to a halt with a flustered sigh.“I need you to try contacting Mr Floyd again, his wife won’t cooperate—she’s refusing to give birth to this baby without him.”

“She knows how having a baby works doesn’t she?” One of the older nurses sitting at the desk rolled her eyes. “That baby, no matter the circumstances, isn’t going to wait for anyone.”

“I’ll let the L&D ward know you’re here as a patient but that’s the best I can do at this stage Lieutenant, I can’t in good conscience let you leave this ward without having run through all the proper medical procedures to make sure you’re fit to return to work.” Doctor Austin wasn’t trying to be the bay guy, if anything he wanted nothing more than to send Bob on his way—but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing he didn’t do his job to the best of his ability. “My primary priority is you and Miss Trance here.”

“You don’t understand!” Bob ran his hands through his hair as his bottom lip quivered. He was holding back tears as he looked up to the ceiling—begging whatever God up there that saved him this morning to work just a little more magic. “She won’t have this baby without me, that was the deal—I needed to be there and now that I’m not—“

“She can’t not have the baby Robert.” Doctor Austin sighed, that was the moment Bob knew he needed out. He needed to get to you, he needed to be there by your side and whisper how beautiful and strong and amazing you are for being a whole person into this world. Because if there was one thing you were, it was strong willed, and you weren't going to have this baby without him. That was a promise. “I’ll go talk with L&D and I’ll be right back.”

“Tell my wife I’m here!” Bob shouted as Doctor Austin left the room, Bob felt like he couldn’t breathe. There was a pressure mounting inside his chest, like an elephant was perched upon his chest. “I’m—I’m here.” He broke. Tears streamed down his grazed cheeks as Phoenix hobbled over. She’d done a little damage to herself but nothing a little rest and recovery couldn’t fix.

They were lucky—oh so lucky.

“She's gonna be okay.” Natasha tried her best to comfort the Weapons System Officer she hardly knew, but Bob was long gone. He’d fallen deep into that hole, the one that the Greek God Chronos had created to separate this life from the next one. He was falling through a helpless paradox of anxiety and fear. You were about to give birth and he was going to miss it. As he crouched down as a whale of pain escaped his parted lips, Bob wished for nothing more than to reverse time.

Because if he could just simply reserve time then he wouldn’t have gone into work this morning. And none of this would be happening.

***~***~***~****~***~****~****~***

“Desmond, she’s not doing well, at all.” Lily, one of your delivery nurses, pleaded with Bob's doctor to just let him come to your aid. “She thinks he’s dead, something about an accident he was in this morning.”

“F-18 ejection, he hit the ground pretty hard.” Doctors Austin looked in at you on the bed, in the middle of active labour, fighting every urge you had to push. You weren’t having this baby, not without Bob, the love of your life, your best friend, your husband. “He’s fine, but he’s in for observation overnight and I’m still waiting for his result to come back from his MRI.”

“If she doesn’t see her husband soon she’s going to need an emergency c-section and I for one am not about to place a panicked mother to be under the knife unless it’s critical.” Lily was your voice of reason. You couldn’t plead with Doctor Austin to let your husband go yourself so she did it for you. “If your patient can walk, hold his wife’s hand while she delivers their child and can sign a waiver saying he waved all medical advice then send him down here before she loses this baby.”

“You L&D ladies think you know everything—“

“Just bring me her damn husband before it’s too late.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Bob felt like he’d been condemned to some eternal hell, time froze as the walls of the hospital room he sat in with Phoenix grew closer and closer. He felt claustrophobic for the first time in a long time.

“How did the two of you meet?” Phoenix tried to keep Bob's mind from going to places too dark to fathom. He needed a distraction from the fact he was here with her and you were delivering his child. All alone.

“I was never good at history, she was my partner for this assessment we had in ancient history class once, everyone was doing their research on Pompeii but not Peach.” Bob chuckled to himself at the memory. “No she wanted to do Herculaneum and it turned out to be the only project I ever got an A on for that class.” You were just it for Bob. There was something special about your aura. Your ability to draw him close like a moth entranced by a flame. You took his breath away every time you told him you loved him.

Your love sent Bob's heart clear out of this world.

“We kinda just never left each other's side since then.” Bob explained as he sat against the wall on the floor with his elbows on his knees. “She’s always been so supportive of what I do even though I know it scares her more than anything to see me walk out that door every morning and she worries endlessly whenever I’m deployed.”

“Becoming she loves you.” Phoenix wished she knew a love like Bobs, but her time hadn’t come yet. Bob nodded along as he twirled his wedding band around his finger as it hung from his dog tags.

“Because she loves me.”

“Floyd—“ Doctor Austin made his presence known as he chucked Bob a blue hospital gown and cap. “Put those on, sign this form that says you're going against my professional medical advice and follow me, you’re needed in labour and delivery.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Push! Y/n dear you need to push—!” Lily tried to persuade you to push when your next contraction hit but you were too far gone. You weren’t ready to be a mother, not without Bob there to be a father.

“No! No, I'm not having this baby!” It was the hardest thing to hear as Bob came racing down the hall, his entire body ached from bruises, his head felt heavy on his shoulders from his concussion. But he was okay, he was alive. “I’m not! I won’t! I can’t do this without him!” You cried out in pain as you fought the urge to push, you swore your teeth were about to crush under the force of you clenching. A scream so heartbreaking and primal ripped through you as your body began to betray you. You were fighting nature's course and it wasn’t going well.

“She needs to push—she’s losing too much blood.” One of the nurses stated as a matter of factly just as Bob made it to the door. He froze at the sight of you, how could you look so beautiful in so much pain? He thought he was going to pass out as he took steady, slow steps into the room.

“I’m here—“ Bob cooed as he came up to your beside. “I’m here Peach I’m here.”

“Bob?” You turned in a delirious state to where your husband's voice had come from. “No no I thought you—“

“I’m okay.” He smiled as he bent over to kiss your forehead and splay his hand on top of your head to push your hair away from your face. “I’m here, I told you I’d be here didn’t I?”

“I thought you died, I thought you were in an accident?” You could barely focus, you felt so light headed that the world felt like it was spinning. “I thought—“

“Hey, hey you need to push alright? You can push now baby because I’m here and I’m with you and I’m fine.” Bob reassured you as you sobbed and nodded as he kissed your lips softly and held your hand. “You’re so strong, you’re so brave, and I love you so much, please push mama.”

“This baby is coming whether you're ready or not Mrs Floyd so I’m gonna need you to focus so we can get this baby out.” Lily rounded the bed as she positioned herself between your legs. Bob felt you tighten your grip around his head and everything stopped. Time stood still, your screams were all but drowned out by the excitement and fear in Bob's heart.

“Yes, Y/n good job. I can see bubs head you’re doing so well! Oh your next contraction I need you to push until I tell you to stop.” Lily smiled as you let your head fall back against the bed.

“You’ve been telling me to push and now you don’t want me to push!?” You hissed. Bob couldn’t help but to chuckle. He was so amazed by your strength.

“Yep, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Lily chuckled. She knew you were close, barreling towards another contraction. She could see it. “Alright this is the one mama, big push for me and bubs will be here in no time.”

“Bob! It hurts! Make it stop!” You cried out, Bob wished he could take all your pain and experience it himself. He never wanted to see you in such a state, but your baby was coming, the baby you’d made together. You’d created together late one night or in the early hours of the morning he wasn’t too sure. But what he was sure of was that you could do this. “It hurts!!”

“Push Mrs Floyd!” Lily shouted.

“Come on peach push! push!” Bob willed you on as you did. You shouted and cried and squeezed your husband’s hand so hard he thought you were about to break his damn hand. But this was it. Your baby was coming.

“Okay okay the heads out stop!” Lily guided you as you let your head fall back against the bed in pure exhaustion. You were dehydrated, covered in sweat and ready to give up. “So I lied before, you’re gonna give me one smaller push to help bubs out Y/n and that it’s—you're done.”

“I can’t.”

“No peach you can.” Bob cooed. “You can because you’ve come this far.”

“I’m not even sure if you're here or not.” You sobbed as you reached out to caress Bob's cheek. “I’m not even sure if you're here with me or if I’m seeing things.”

“I’m here, I’m real.” Bob whispered in your ear. “And we’re having our baby Peach, just one more little push and it’s gonna be you and me and our little one against the world.” You nodded softly and you shut your eyes and groaned. “You can do it.”

“Alright let’s have this baby! One more small push!” Lily announced as another contraction tour through your exhausted body.

“Ahhhhhh!!” You shouted and Bob swore you bust his eardrum, but it was a small sacrifice as the cries of the world’s newest human echoed off the walls.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Floyd you have a little baby girl.” Lily handed you your daughter the second she was born. Placing her on your chest within seconds of her arrival.

“Oh Peach, she's so beautiful.” Bob cried as tears streamed down his cheeks. He swore he’d never be able to love someone more than he loved you. But as you held your newborn daughter on your chest he kinda thought he’d been wrong. He could love someone just as much as he loved you. Your daughter.

“She's perfect, hi b-baby.” Your voice was all but a whisper as your head lulled to the side. You felt dizzy, lightheaded as your daughters cried softened. “I love you.”

“Y/n? Sweetheart are you alright?” You didn’t reply but you looked up at your husband with a dazed expression, a tunnel had begun to form, edges of a dark black hole crept its way into your mind.

Chronos hole—the one between this world and the next.

“Peach?” Alarms rang out as Lily removed your crying newborn just minutes earth side from your chest as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “No no no no what’s wrong what’s happening to her?” Bob asked as he tapped your cheek softly. “Hey, Peach, no stay with me, stay with me.”

“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s haemorrhaging.” Lily explained as she and a bunch of other nurses worked around you. “We need to get her into surgery, Mr Floyd.”

“Sir, step back—“ An older nurse asked as she placed a hand on Bob's shoulder. He did as he watched Lily take a sample of your blood.

“I’ll head directly to the lab to drop off the sample.”

“Just make sure her surgeon has o-negative on the ready.” The only nurse replied as Bob stood there, watching as they wheeled you out on the same bed you'd just given birth in. He didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, he didn't get a chance to tell you how much he loved you.

“Uh, do I go with her or?” Bob didn’t know what to do, his whole world had been turned upside down and on its head already today, and again it had just flipped once more. There was one nurse left, he didn’t know her name, but she smiled politely at him.

“No, you should stay here with your daughter, she needs her daddy now.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

And through every grievance, every war, the land and the sky didn't give two shits about any of it. Bob Floyd knew that as he sat with his newborn daughter in the maternity room of the Miramar Base Hospital designed by man, for man to help other men with westernised medical procedures and treatments…

That it wouldn't give two shits about you either.

“Hey..” A gruff voice came from the doorway, it took Bob all his light and all his remaining energy to look up from his daughter. The light and life of you. “I uh, I just thought I’d come check in on you and Phoenix.” Mav crossed his arms over his chest as he moved into the room. “How’s your wife doing?”

“I don’t know.” Bob explained as he rocked his little girl, skin to skin was important so he’d stripped off what he could. “She’s still in surgery.” Pete could see the worry written in the lines of Bob's face. But the little girl who cried against his shoulder had him mesmerised. “Sorry darlin, I got you, daddy’s here.”

“She’s a little beauty isn’t she?” Mav sat down beside the WSO who’d had a longer day then most. “You get a chance to name her yet? Before—?” Mav didn’t have to say before you went into shock. Your body had been through a lot and the nurses believed if you hadn’t held on so long, held back against what your body was telling you it needed to do then there was a possibility that it could have been a rather smooth delivery. Bob took that personally, the only reason you were holding back was because he wasn't here for you when you needed him the most.

“No, but we’ll name her after, for now she’s baby Peach.”

“Your wife’s nickname.” Mav replied softly as he looked up. He knew then and there what was about to happen.

Bob knew there was a Doctor standing in the doorway. He didn’t dare look up. He knew if he looked up he’d be told the worst news of his life.

Bob remembered that had asked you once when you were wrapped up in his arms in the dead of the night, listening to the storm raging on outside if you knew anything at all about a Greek God called Chronos. He remembered that you had chuckled out a soft no as he trailed his lips up your neck. Bob told you that he carried a sickle, that he used it to cut a hole, a tear in the cosmos between heaven and earth. Chronos did that to separate this world from the next, to separate the known from the unknown.

And while a Doctor by the name of Henry Nardella told him that you didn’t make it through the surgery, that you'd left him and your daughter behind, in a world where nothing made sense without you in it.

Well—Robert Floyd felt as if he’d fallen straight into it.

“No, please don't leave me here.” Bob felt like he’d fallen into the cosmic existence between now and soon to come, plummeting into a realm where time didn’t exist and light didn’t reach. He felt like he had tumbled into a parallel dimension where nothing made sense, nothing seemed tangible or real. He’d descended into a world where you weren't around. “No Peach, no.”

But at the touch of his earlobe, a slight pressure formed at the lobe. So warm and comforting. Bob knew as your baby girl settled in against his chest at the lub dub of his heart beating for you–he knew you were safe on the other side.

Because you had tugged on his earlobe, just like you promised you would.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob top gun #bob floyd fic #bob x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd angst

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topguncortez · 11 months

Text

A Change of Plans | B. Floyd

Bob Floyd Masterlist | Main masterlist

synopsis: Bob has been trying to find the perfect way to propose to you.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, cursing, cute shit

If there was one thing about Bob Floyd, it was that he is a perfectionist.

It was your birthday, and Bob had set up the whole day for you to spend with Penny, Phoenix and Amelia. Bob had planned the whole thing for you. You were doing brunch at 10, manicures at noon, followed by massages, and then dinner with the whole dagger squad at the end of the day, with a very special gift at the end.

Bob had been planning on proposing to you for months, but could never find the right time. The dagger squad was growing tired of him waiting for the moment to be perfect. The first time he was going to do it, Javy caused a bar fight and he had to step in. The second time, Fanboy had accidentally elbowed you while playing darts and gave you a bloody nose. The third time, Bob forgot the ring at home. Now, tonight would be the fourth time, and he was going to do it come hell or high water.

Bob was wrapping up the ring box when he heard the front door open. He looked like a deer in the headlights as there was wrapping paper, scissors, tape and the black velvet ring box on the bed. Frantically he pushed everything on the floor away from the door and threw a blanket on top of it as you walked into the bedroom, your eyes bloodshot and red.

"Hey," Bob scrambled off the bed and over to you, "What's wrong?" He gently touched your face and you pushed him away, running straight for the ensuite bathroom. He followed you in, wincing as you crashed down to the floor and pushed the toilet lid up, and getting sick. Without hesitation he walked over to you and kneeled down behind you, holding your hair back and rubbing your back.

You took a couple deep breaths as you leaned over, "Got sick at brunch."

"Oh my god," Bob said and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, "You're not hot. Maybe it was something you ate, or did you drink too much?"

"I," You gagged again, and shook your head, "I hardly ate or drank. It all just. . . .taste weird. I just need to lay down, I feel like a trash can." You grimaced as you closed the toilet lid and flushed it. Bob sat down on the floor and guided you back to sit against him.

'Well. . . . looks like fourth time is not the charm,' Bob thought as he gently ran his hands up and down your arms, and rested his chin on top of his head. You couldn't help but close your eyes and start to doze off in his arms, Bob smiling softly at you.

"Let's get you to bed," Bob said to you softly. You sat up a bit, letting Bob move from behind you. You reached both your arms up towards him and he pulled you off the ground. He walked you to bed with a gentle hand on your back, and helped you get settled, "Do you want anything?" He asked running a hand over your hair.

"Yes but we don't have them," You said.

"What is it?" Bob shook his head.

"Dill pickle chips," You said with a smile on your face, "God, I have been craving pickles non-stop, and I hate pickles."

Bob chuckled, "I'll door dash 'em," He kissed your forehead. He closed the bedroom door softly, pulling his phone out from his pocket and texting the group chat, canceling the plans for the night.

'Badass on Board: plan D is a no go. Y/N is sick. Plan E is now in affect'

'Hangman: How many more plans do we let him try before we just take over?'

--- --- ---

Four days. That's currently how many days in a row you spent every single night with your head in the toilet. You weren't sure what was going on. You felt fine until about five clock on the dot and you were vomiting everything you had ate that day. Bob was growing extremely concerned by it.

"I think you should go to the doctor," Bob said as he placed a cool rag on your face. You were laying in his La-Z-boy recliner, with about five blankets on you and a puke bucket next to you.

"I'm fine," You said, "Now give me the remote, the Bachelor-"

"Y/N," Bob warned and snatched the remote away, "Only way I'll let you watch that awful show is if you promise me you'll go to the doctor tomorrow."

"It is not an awful show, Robert," You argued, missing the point.

Bob sighed, putting his hands on his hips, "Y/N M/N-"

"Did you just middle name me?" You gasped.

"Sweetheart!"

"Fine!" You rolled your eyes, "I'll go to urgent care tomorrow, now please, the Bachelor."

Bob smiled and kissed your forehead giving you the remote, "Turn it on. I wanna know if Melody got a rose or not."

--- --- ---

Bob made you text him a picture of yourself at Urgent Care, so he knew that you actually went (cause he knew you well enough that you wouldn't). He smiled at the dorky selfie you sent him of you pointing at an anatomy poster.

"So we are on plan E," Hangman said, walking into the Rec room and sitting down on the couch next to Bob, "How many more plans do we got there Bobby boy?"

"As many as I need," Bob answered and tucked his phone back into his flight suit, "Couldn't help that she got sick. Didn't feel like the right time to try and make her come to dinner and ask her when she didn't feel well."

"Why do you have to do it front of all of us at all?" Rooster asked, and Bob looked up at him, "Yeah, you wanna make it special have your friends and family there, but I mean, maybe it's just not in fate for it to happen like that."

Bob and Jake shared a look, never have they ever heard Rooster say the word "fate" in a sentence.

Rooster rolled his eyes, "I'm dating a girl who's into astrology alright."

Jake blinked a couple of times and shook his head, "Anyway, Birdbrain is right. Maybe it's just meant to be a thing between you two. We can celebrate after you pop the question."

Bob nodded, and stood up from the couch, and walked briskly to the door.

"Where are you going?!"

"Executing plan E: everyone stays away!"

Bob wasn't shocked to find your car in the driveway when he arrived home. He also wasn't shocked when he saw the light from the hall bathroom on. He walked over to the bookshelf in the hallway, pulling one of the books out. He had cut a whole into the pages to hide the ring in. Smiling, he grabbed the black box and walked down the hallway.

"Y/N," Bob said, as he walked in. You picked your head up and looked at him.

"Bob," You sighed.

"Marry me?" "I'm pregnant" the two of you said at the same time.

"What?!" "What?!"

"Marry you?!" "You're pregnant?!"

Bob shook his head, "Okay, you first."

"I went to urgent care like you instructed, and I guess the every day throwing up is actually delayed morning sickness, and I'm pregnant," You said, "Your turn."

Bob looked down at the ring box in his hand, and held it up shyly, "I've been trying to find the right time-"

"I know," You said, and Bob looked shocked, again.

"You know!? What do you mean, you know?"

You laughed, and pushed yourself up from the bathroom floor. You were a bit shaky and Bob reached his hands out to steady you. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them.

"Bob, honey, I love you a lot, but you are horrible at hiding things," You said, "Baby, I found the ring box the day you came home with it cause you left it sitting on the counter."

Bob's jaw dropped, "I wondered how it got in my sock drawer. . . But, what do you say? Will you marry me?" He opened the black box, showing the square cut diamond and gold band.

"Bob Floyd, I would've married you the first time you tried to ask me."

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @happypopcornprincess @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @genius2050 @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis

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#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #bob floyd #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #Robert bob floyd

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rassvetsky · 1 year

Text

Make It Proper

part one | part two

robert "bob" floyd x fem!reader

"I was raised to love, you know? Not just love— but to love well. And my ma always told me that I should make a lover feel special, treat her even better if she treats me right." One of your hands went up then, to cup his face as an offering of solace. "I don't know if I succeeded in makin' you feel that way yet, but you're special to me. And I intend to respect you as such."

[4.8k] | fluff fluff fluff, lovesick bob :(, dude's so in love it's insane, anyway unprotected sex lol, cunningulus, fingering, and more of bob being absolutely adorable he's literally the sun itself. dedicated to @hangmanapologist because robyn you need to marry me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread. also @alinasmcu i hope you like it loml

Robert showed his true nature in subtle ways.

With the way his hands laced with yours as he held them both against the gear shift while he drove, with the excuse of "warming them up" as if the weather could get any warmer. Like when a quiet 'aww' escaped his lips upon the sight of a squirrel by the trees on your way to the restaurant he told you all about, despite trying so hard to appear a bit more serious, at least. Or like all those times that you caught him stealing a glance and then smiling to himself, acting as if his attention was on the menu he held instead. He ended up exchanging fun facts about the squirrels with you however, and the genuine smile on your lips worked as a clear indicator— he didn't have to act as if he's someone else with you.

Needless to say, the date was wonderful. An absolutely delicious bottle of Rosé in your glasses, stories exchanged for hours and cheeks hurting from smiling a bit too much. It was perfect, he was perfect— a true gentleman by all means, with the way he never made you question his respect towards you, and listened so attentively that you found yourself skipping over your words whenever you saw that beautiful smile reach his eyes.

He was in the middle of a story about Phoenix not-so-accidentally kicking Hangman on the balls when you suddenly reached for his hand over the table, curling yours over his with a smile so beautiful that for a moment he forgot where he was, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a smile from breaking out. He reached in a bit closer to the table then, lifting your hand to press his lips against the pulse point on your wrist, eyes on yours all the way through. "Where was I?"

"Hangman trying to play it cool," you replied straight away, caressing his hand so delicately that he could feel his heart beating against his ribs forcefully. "God, I wish you had a video of that."

"Me too, but he's oddly against videos like that," he chuckled. "Something about 'em being forever, I don't know. I don't really listen when he talks."

A soft giggle left you. "Good for you, it's not often that he says anything useful outside of missions anyway." you sighed, free hand going forward to join the other. "I have a lot of Jake-induced traumas, unfortunately."

He didn't reply to that, but instead, lifted both of your hands this time, nuzzling his face against them with a tender smile on his lips, eyes closed momentarily. "I missed your touch," he sighed out. "I hope that's not weird."

"It's barely been a week, Floyd, keep it in your pants." you chuckled, brushing your fingers against his skin, watching the comfort in his expression carefully. Your fingertips slid over his lips, witnessing them part upon your gentle touch, and it took all sorts of self-constraint on your end to not just push a little further and feel his tongue against them. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, he hung his head a little; and you could feel the curl of his lips against your palm when he smiled right against your skin. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm just— surprised, I think."

"Why's that?"

"When we all first got together, I didn't think I could be friends with you." he spoke with his voice barely above a sigh, and you probably would've had problems hearing him if you could focus on anything else around you, other than him. But all of your senses were directed straight at Bob, as his gentle eyes trailed over the streaks of the oak table. "You're so— you're like, beaming. Whenever I look at you. I try to find you in the room and you're over there, laughing and having fun and you just look like… the beauty that you have inside and out, it makes you look like you could make a grown man cry."

His eyes met yours then, a questioning gaze directed at you as if he was waiting for your confirmation on whether that made sense or not. You bit back a smile, watching as Bob brought your hands back down to the table, covering them with both his palms. "Is that a bad thing?" you asked, smile giving away the lighthearted nature of your question.

"No! No." a chuckle left him. "Just kinda felt like you wouldn't be interested in me while— you know, you could hang out with someone else."

It squeezed at your heart how precious he was; with his carefully picked out words and eyes unafraid of being vulnerable; it was clear that he felt comfortable enough to not restrain anything about himself around you.

You promised yourself that you would never break his heart, right then and there. Unbeknownst to you, he was doing the same when you met his eyes, his shoulders light with the amenity your company brought.

Even after all those hours spent on that same table, Robert wasn't ready to let go. The date was amazing, probably the best he's ever been to— and just the thought of calling a halt made him uneasy. He wanted to hear more of your stories, anyway!

But the genuine happiness in your face whenever your eyes met told him that there'd be plenty of time to tell all the stories possible, to know one another in a level in which nobody else does, to carry that trust with your entire soul. He felt at ease, knowing that your attention belonged to him, and his to you.

Which is why he didn't regret anything when he pulled up by your door, engine of the car still rumbling through and a street light illuminating just enough of your smile. "Guess that's it, huh?"

The sweet sound of your laugh tugged at his lips to widen his grin. "Hey! That sounds like you're leaving forever."

"Nope, don't you worry about that. I'm not leavin' ya anytime soon." he spoke, hand reaching out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers, so gentle as if you'd break apart easily. "I had the most wonderful time. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you, Floyd." you shook your head, giggling to yourself before taking his hand in yours, pressing your lips right against his palm with a fond sigh leaving your lungs. "And perhaps I should thank you upstairs with some coffee?"

The embarrassment was evident in the way his cheeks flushed immediately, as he chuckled a bit to himself. "You were the one who told me to keep it in my pants."

"Pervert," you laughed, shaking your head to both sides before reaching in to press your lips right against the tip of his nose, pulling away with a grin. "Coffee and conversation. We don't have to do anything else, you're free to set the pace. Whatever makes you comfortable, Lieutenant."

A soft exhale burned through his lungs, pure appreciation in his eyes as he stared at you. In a way, be felt cared for— with how you let him know that you respected his boundaries and such, and God, he wanted to slap himself for being a coward and not talking to you anytime sooner. It had barely started, whatever it was between you two— and he already regretted not just jumping on you and bombarding you with love from the first moment he laid eyes on you, at the beach right by Hard Deck.

His entire body was still hot with the earlier flush when you led him through your living room and even told him which couch was the most comfortable —you even cared for his butt, he thought—, and he watched you beeline to the kitchen in order to prepare some coffee for the both of you.

Bob didn't sit down straight away, instead choosing to walk around the living room a bit— the whole area felt personal, with the photos on the walls and plants well-cared for. There was a photo of you— no, the child you right in front of a Fokker Dreidecker fighter aircraft with your arms crossed across your chest and a bright smile on your lips, another one with you and a bunch of other aviators, with your helmet snug between your arm and waist. And a lot more with what he supposed, family and friends.

He wondered if he'd ever get to have a photo of you and himself around here somewhere. Maybe taken during a trip to the Mediterranean coast, maybe with his arms around you, maybe with him in a suit reserved for the most important day in a person's life—

"Your coffee is ready, my lord!" you exclaimed happily, ignoring the fact that he visibly flinched when you suddenly appeared by him —or probably that grin on your lips was the indicator of a sinister plan, did you mean to scare him?— and he took one of the mugs from you with gratitude. "I see you've found my shrine."

"Is that you?" he asked, pointing to that picture of you in front of the old aircraft. A chuckle left you at that and you nodded, earning a soft laugh from him. "A Dreidecker? Somebody knew what they were doing before joining the academy."

"Every child has a fascination with something." you spoke, getting a hold of his free hand to lead him towards the couch, a content smile on your lips. "I just acted on it, I think. I was devastated to find out that they don't use those planes anymore, though."

He laughed and laughed, eventually laughed a bit more as hours passed through the both of you in a blur. He spoke to you about his childhood, that tiny park on the way back home from school in which he used up all of his daily allowance buying girls taffy apples, his neighbor's scary German Shepherd whom he eventually became best friends with, those specific cookies that his mama used to make once a year which he couldn't ever get the recipe for, his first kiss, first fight, first pet and eventually, although not exactly the topic, the first time he saw you. And how you managed to ignite a fire within his soul that he didn't think was possible.

Your mugs were long-empty, the beige foam of the coffee left behind to dry by the peak of the porcelain; but the conversation was far too enticing to break apart for a refill. You were close enough to see the tiny, rare freckles on top of the rosy glint he carried on, the pads of his eyeglass sitting snug on both sides of his upper nose, the oceans and seas and a thousand lakes he kept in his eyes, and the kindest smile anyone has ever offered your way.

Robert was beautiful. Beautiful in the way he put his feelings out to words, beautiful in the way his hand found yours on top of the couch, beautiful in the way he leaned in to press his lips against yours mid-story just because he thought the sight was too pretty to hold back from. You smiled up at him then, a bit awestruck, before your arms eventually found their way around his neck just so you could lay your head on his chest.

He still felt like his heart would burst whenever you moved so close.

"D'you wanna stay the night, Robby?" you asked, voice a bit muffled by the shirt he wore. He was taken aback for a split second before you decided to continue. "You could hug me all night."

"Ah, God— you have no idea how happy that would make me, sweetheart." he chuckled a bit to himself, thankful for the position of your head because he could feel his cheeks and neck burning up. "If, well… if you're okay with that, I don't see why not."

"Yeah," you sighed, peaceful. "I'm more than okay with that."

Bob genuinely didn't know what to do with himself when he opened his eyes in the morning, only to find himself buried against your skin and the soft, sleepy exhales you let out surrounding his entire being. With all your limbs tangled together, it was hard to pull the blanket up to cover your shoulders but he managed to do it, before pushing himself up on the bed a little to lean against the frame. He could see you better in this position.

But his innocent little plans of watching you sleep and going crazy all by himself were cut off short with the little yawn you let out; he noticed how your arms tried to tug him back on top of you, yet he persisted. He had a clear view of you being absolutely adorable and in your most vulnerable state —and you trusted him with it, the thought got him all fuzzy inside—, he wasn't going to give up the chance to engrave it into his mind.

You let out an incoherent mumble, causing his smile to get wider as he hummed back, hand gently reaching your face to push away the strands of hair on the way. "Gonna wake up?" he hummed, now opting to caress your cheek with the backs of his fingers. "C'mon, I missed you. Get up."

"You missed me?" you yawned again, sleep still evident in your voice and you hadn't even opened your eyes— yet a smile found itself home on your lips anyway. "We've been sleeping."

"Yeah, and I missed you in my sleep." matter of factly, he declared. "In fact, I might drop dead right here if you don't kiss me in the next ten seconds."

Your sleepy giggles mixed up with his, as you rubbed your eyes a bit before slowly pushing yourself up for your lips to meet his cheek. A dramatic exhale left him after that, as if his life truly depended on that kiss alone, and he finally gave in to your constant tugs. Now with your arms around him and with his face buried on your neck, the two of you could relax again.

"Thank you for lettin' me stay." he mumbled against your warm skin after a while of serenity, and your first response was carding your fingers through his hair to massage the nape of his neck.

"I was the one who offered you to stay."

"I'm blessed." he chuckled, before raising his head a little to plant kisses across your chin. "Truly blessed with you."

"Getting all sappy after a night together?" your teasing tone had him hiding his face on your neck again, and the gesture was so heartwarming that you had to bite back a wide smile from breaking out. "Wonder how you're gonna get after a different kind of night together. Although, you did say it's not proper, didn't you?"

"I said it wasn't proper in the car!" lifting himself up on his arms above you, he pouted down at you. "Without even taking you out on a date. I'm not raised that way."

"Care to elaborate on how you were raised?"

The momentary scrunch of his nose as he looked away to think was sacramental to you, to say the least, and when he looked at you again with that familiar shy smile, you knew that he was going to blurt out the sweetest words the humankind has ever heard.

"I was raised to love, you know?" he was down on his elbows now, too close, but not nearly close enough for you. "Not just love— but to love well. And my ma always told me that I should make a lover feel special, treat her even better if she treats me right."

One of your hands went up then, to cup his face as an offering of solace.

"I don't know if I succeeded in makin' you feel that way yet, but you're special to me. And I intend to respect you as such." the way he got a bit quieter towards the end in embarrassment was so endearing that you chuckled to yourself, fingers brushing against the flush on his cheeks as he not-so-snugly followed your touch.

Robert was so perfect to you. With his hopes, fears and everything that he believed in; he was so pristine. And now with his cerulean orbs staring right back at yours with a boyish expectancy and thrill, elbows holding his weight up just so he wouldn't make you uncomfortable with the pressure— you couldn't think of anything else but kissing him.

And that's what you did— a harsh tug to the back of his neck just so his lips could meet yours, feeling one of his arms snaking around your figure to hold you so delicately as if you'd break apart. Perhaps that was one of your favorite traits of his, the care— how he's so gentle, so careful with the way he picked out his words and held you, touched you. He never failed to make you feel like the only person in the whole wide world, like nothing else but you could ever matter to him.

The way he kissed you back was tentative, as if he wasn't sure where exactly that kiss would lead. But you couldn't help a quiet whimper leaving your lips when he experimentally grazed your lower lip with his teeth, the sound giving him enough courage to nibble on the soft flesh before finally letting a bit of his weight rest on yours, all close and warm. The arm which he was still using to keep himself up moved downwards with that, feeling your body through the thin layer of clothing that covered it and gently leading your thighs around his lower waist.

It made him feel like your bodies were made for one another. How electrifying, he thought.

Neither of you were in a rush, it seemed, when he pulled away with a radiant grin only to tug your t-shirt upwards. You moved in sync with him to get rid of the article of clothing, your upper body completely bare before his very eyes— but not even for a moment did you think of hiding yourself from his curious gaze. Bob's hand found yours, lacing your fingers together before he let his lips latch onto the skin of your neck, leaving short little pecks all the way to the valley of your breasts. A soft sigh left you, stomach churning with anticipation and the type of flutter that you missed so much.

"You'd tell me if you wanted me to stop, yeah?" his eyes were so bright when he looked at you again, chin millimeters away from your stomach and you nodded, giggling a little. "Good, that's good. 'Cause, um— you're so pretty and I jus' wanna kiss you all over, to be honest."

"My heart's gonna burst if you don't keep going, Floyd." you whispered back, earning a lovesick glare from him before he bit down on your skin, right by the side of your waist— pulling yet another giggle out of you before he could get rid of the rest of your clothes.

He made a quick work of it, letting your underwear fall to the ground with his hoodie —yours, actually, you never thought that your oversized comfy hoodies would come in handy like this— following suit. You traced the outline of his pecs with your fingertips, and the way he sucked in a deep breath only egged you on to continue.

You followed along the barely visible happy trail, hooking a finger on the waistband of the boxers he wore to sleep, teasingly pulling on it a bit before letting it snap back into place. "This won't be fair if you have a mind to play with me, sweets." he spoke, trying to sound all intimidating— yet he sounded like he was barely keeping it together, a smile tugging on his lips as he stared down at you. You smiled back at him, head tilting innocently.

"It's really not fair at all that you're still not touching me where I need it," you mumbled, the sweetest of all pouts on your lips which he desperately wanted to kiss away— but instead, he returned to his former position, face hovering over your hip bones only to plant kisses on the twin peaks. "Rob, please."

"Patience," he hummed, his lips now on your upper thighs, carefully letting one rest on his shoulder as if he was testing how it'd feel wrapped around him. He seemed to like the idea though, since before you knew it, a playful glint was evident in his eyes while he stared at you and softly blew on your bare core, taking mental notes on your reaction to the sudden cold. "You need my touch here, is that it?" you nodded rapidly.

"S'okay sweetheart," the way his breath hit against your core with each of the words he let out was about to drive you absolutely insane. "Gonna take care of you, don't worry."

And Bob was a man of his word.

Because the second his lips met your clit, he was grunting and panting against you and God, you wondered if he knew just how much he affected you. With soft whines leaving your lips, you tried to buck your hips up a bit to meet him a bit more forcefully, but he already had two arms wrapped around your upper thighs— he easily pinned you down again, only to let his tongue run through your folds with a drawn out hum. The taste of you taking over his senses drove him to the point of insanity.

"Fuck, Robby, keep going— please keep going." you whined out, continuous sounds leaving you at that point— and Robert absolutely basked in them, the pride of knowing just how good he was making you feel making all the blood rush to his cock, painfully hard against the mattress— just like that evening in the car with you on his lap, lips all swollen from the harsh nature of the kisses you two shared. "Why the fuck are you so good at this—"

His method of shutting you up was a bold flick of his tongue against your clit while he let go of one of your legs, only to push your folds apart with his fingers and spread your essence with his middle finger. It slipped in rather easily, allowing him to push in a second one— and you were really thankful at that moment that you never noticed just how big his fingers were, otherwise the thought would've made you a lunatic.

His fingers got caught on a slow yet steady pace, and he took your slightly distraught state as an opportunity to push his body up and to plant his lips against yours. His fingers did wonders inside of you, but magically, his lips felt even better— the amount of emotion he poured out into the gesture had your senses flooding with nothing but adoration towards him. Swallowing your moans and whimpers, he curled and uncurled his fingers, exploring you until hitting a spot that felt just right, and the way you shook against his hold left a grin on his lips, into the kiss.

You were surprised by how unphased he was, completely focused on his task of bringing you pleasure while he could very well get it all over with and call it a day— he didn't budge even when you clawed on his back, wrapped your arms around his shoulders just to pull him impossibly close. He didn't budge when you broke the kiss away just to tell him —in explicit detail— what you wanted him to do to you, and how much he was affecting you.

If only you could hear his internal screams, though.

His lips were by your neck by the time the constant twitching of your legs and the warmth taking over inch by inch started becoming the indicator of an upcoming orgasm, and he could feel it from the way your walls clenched around his digits so hard— the thought of you clamping down on his cock like that pulled a soft sigh out of his lips, drowned out by your constant drawled out moans. "Shh, that's it," he whispered, lips right below your ear now. "Gonna come on my fingers, yeah? That's a good girl, so loud and pretty for me."

And if the abuse of your sweet spot wasn't effective, his words definitely did it— lighting up the sparkler waiting to erupt, making an overwhelming mix of clarity and fogginess take over your entire mind for the minutes to come. He helped you ride it down as gently as he could, still whispering sweet nothings to your ear before pulling his fingers out. And to your absolute surprise, he pushed himself up a bit, putting on a show of how he licked his fingers clean— with eye contact all through.

Bob was going to be the death of you.

So you only gave yourself a minute or two to catch your breath before pushing him down on the bed, wet core sitting snugly right on top of his clothed length when you straddled him. He stared up at you, expression a bit surprised, maybe even starstruck with how a smile won over so quickly. "I was getting to it, you really lack patience—"

"Rob, sweetheart, you take too long," you huffed out, earning a chuckle from the other as he grabbed your thighs, squeezing the flesh under his palms. "Did you want my heart to burst or something?"

"A taste of your own medicine."

"Oh, shut up. Not funny." you spoke, still laughing a bit nonetheless. Getting up on your knees to pull his underwear down just enough to pull his length out, you gave him a couple of jerks, palm tight against his flushed pink tip moist with precum. "You have no idea how much I've been wanting this."

"Is that why you asked me to stay the night? How scandalous—"

"Robby!"

"Alright, alright," a breathless chuckle left him, eyes trained on the grip of your fingers around his length and the way you lined him up with your entrance. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head when he first felt your warm core on his most sensitive spot, the glide through your folds and the shaky breath you left out. He wasn't in a much better situation himself, afraid of letting go of the breath he held just in case his lungs would give out— but he decided to speak up again nonetheless, still a lot of things to say but never enough time. "For the record, me too. I thought about this a lot."

"Did you, now?" your voice was nearly shaking when you started sinking down on him, a slight hiss leaving your lips. "What'd you think about?"

"Thought of you exactly like this. On top of me, starin' at me like that— drove me crazy."

"Just the thought drove you crazy?"

"Yeah, you do that to me, baby."

"Aha! Oop— here we go. God damn it—" the sight of Robert, all soft with his hair all over the place and a spatula in his hand was incredibly endearing, but watching him try to balance blueberries on top of the stack of pancakes for five minutes now wasn't exactly your desired breakfast activity. You were drained and starving— the blueberries could fuck themselves.

"Bob, we're gonna eat 'em anyway," you whined, elbows against the kitchen table when he turned around to flash you a smile which quietly told you not to worry about it. You were too hungry to not worry about it. "I'm gonna die. Feed me or I'm calling the cops."

Taking your words for granted, he turned around again, this time with the plate which he worked so hard for —and you appreciated it! Just wanted to appreciate it faster, is all—, watching another blueberry roll down to the plate with a sigh before setting the plate down on top of the table. "I swear I'm better at this."

"Balancing blueberries is a shit skill, I wouldn't be disappointed if you weren't."

"Hey! Stop disrespecting my skills!" with a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes, he pushed his glasses up a bit on his nose, sitting down on a chair right next to yours as a soft grunt left him. You giggled, letting your head find its spot on his shoulder and feeling an arm wrapping around you securely— and a kiss to your hair, of course. "I'd walk through fire for you and you're out here judging me for trying to make the perfect breakfast."

"Any breakfast would be perfect with you!"

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #tagging this guy is so hard #bob top gun #top gun bob #like which one #anyway #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd smut #top gun maverick

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withahappyrefrain · 3 months

Text

Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd

Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.

Summary: 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.

Words: 4.8K

This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!

When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you.

“God, I wish that were me.”

It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it.

But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new.

It also brought up many questions.

Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you.

Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face.

All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp.

Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four.

Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner.

The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated.

“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”

“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.”

“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”

“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”

“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”

Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them.

At least that's what the other thought.

It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up.

“Been awhile?”

And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought.

“Try never.”

It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt.

“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest.

“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?”

You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied.

You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation.

“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you.

Darn those long limbs.

“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain.

“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.”

Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?”

College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people.

And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship.

Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else?

“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?”

Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different.

You rubbed your thighs together.

“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?”

Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee.

Have his hands always been so big and veiny?

Fuck, did you have a thing for hands?

“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?”

His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing.

Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point?

“You…like doing it?”

The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.”

It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work.

He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual.

“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.”

“You don't have to wait.”

The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking.

But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear.

You heard me.

“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational.

Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left.

“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body.

“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.”

All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo.

Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up.

The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching.

For what, you couldn't tell.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you want it to be different?”

What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?

“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.

“I asked you second, Robby.”

Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe.

“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained.

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special.

He was never that way with the other girls he dated.

“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter.

But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching.

Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut.

“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said.

Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were.

“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his.

It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild.

When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt.

“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.”

Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to.

It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable.

“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations.

“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips.

“God, you have terrible taste in men.”

You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were.

How could he do that so quickly?

He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight.

When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth.

Thank god your parents were on vacation.

His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off.

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch.

“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you.

“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet.

But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier.

“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.

He laughed. Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet.

Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it.

“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”

“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit.

His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out.

Good.

You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible.

God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled.

And he had just gotten started.

He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time.

But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away.

The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.

“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Robby.”

To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century.

Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving.

A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch.

Was he this thick elsewhere?

You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up.

Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible.

You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did.

But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it.

He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued. Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard.

Why did either of you wait this long?

You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth.

But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy.

When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out.

He really did enjoy it.

“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you.

Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.

Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release.

You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under.

His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time.

The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt.

“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours.

Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his.

Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.”

How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid?

Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick-

Jesus Christ, he was huge.

“Fuck, she was right.”

Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?”

“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once.

Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?”

“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform.

“I….we can unpack this later-”

You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?”

Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick.

Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful.

“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock.

Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.”

Darlin. You were his darlin.

He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears.

Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy.

Even he didn't know when he would return home.

It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship.

“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern.

His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes.

“I don't want you to go.”

“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them.

“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you.

“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.”

Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his.

“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards.

“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.”

Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory.

Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him.

He was going to need it for the next few months.

Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere.

“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension.

The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask.

“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things.

Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.

“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed.

Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.”

Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-”

“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock.

Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was.

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious.

His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars.

You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls.

It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.”

Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd.

Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group.

But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus.

His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria.

That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it.

But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock.

“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?”

Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release.

Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his.

The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body.

His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go.

You’d be a damn fool to.

The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob.

After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?”

Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.”

You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?”

He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?”

“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter.

“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?”

The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple.

The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?”

Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.

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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky

#my writing #Bob Floyd #Robert Floyd #Robert Bob Floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #Bob fucks #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #Bob Floyd smut #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction

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roosterbruiser · 9 months

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?”

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips.

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers.

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?”

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family.

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!”

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!”

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin.

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.”

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup.

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.”

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly.

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand.

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on.

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!”

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.”

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!”

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.”

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.”

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.”

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss.

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched.

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.”

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out.

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says.

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!”

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?”

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!”

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.”

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched.

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says.

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins.

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker.

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly.

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously.

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.”

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back.

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.”

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him.

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!”

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.”

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life.

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms.

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.”

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink.

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!”

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh.

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all.

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.”

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy.

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

1K notes · View notes

ereardon · 3 months

Text

Before I Knew [Masterlist] — Full Length Series

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Overview:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

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waklman · 11 months

Text

Chatterbox

prompt: bob helps his teacher assistant girlfriend get her mind off work.

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. fingering, oral (f receiving), slight size kink and dumbification if you squint.

a/n: dont ask me why im releasing one-shots before i even finish chapter one, because i dont know either okay. but anyway, here is a peak at bob and honeybee :).

word count: 2.3k

college au, frat boy au

the after party masterlist.

Bob never had a problem with how chatty you could get.

If there was one thing Bob was grateful for, it was his girlfriend's ability to fill in an awkward silence when needed. The blond was certain he could listen to you talk all day, running that pretty mouth of yours while he sat there nodding attentively. And it was just a plus that you looked so enamoring, eyes glittering in excitement and hands animatedly gesturing as you spoke.

However, Bob did have a problem with how chatty you got about your TA tasks—especially when you were supposed to be forgetting about them for now. The end of the semester always came with a bigger pile of work, but today was a Saturday. Yet, you're still thinking about school.

For once, the rowdy frat house was empty with everyone visiting home for spring break. It was a perfect opportunity for Bob to finally get you out of the grayed out dorm room you trapped yourself in, day in and day out. So, when he made the move to invite you over, he had every intention to ease your stress, hence the dress code of comfy attire only.

But this afternoon, it looks like Bob has to do more than just lay stomach down between the plush of your thighs, glasses set off to the side, letting you mindlessly braid his hair, and mindlessly run your mouth.

“Does he think I have no life?” Your pointed complaints are still ongoing, leaving you ignorant to the subtle movement below you.

While your brewing anger is very much directed at Professor Simpson, it’s currently being spewed towards Bob’s ceiling fan—which can do nothing to argue back—just how you like it. If looks could kill, the mean glare you’re giving the motionless object suspended over his bed would be on living its last day.

The remembrance of your professor’s threatening email to you about getting grades out, completely distracts you from the braid of blond hair in your hands, slowly losing its structure as your boyfriend shifts his weight under you.

Again, you let out an annoyed breath. “Five days of my spring break to grade some last minute assignment he just—conveniently forgot to mention to me?!”

You’re so lost in your story telling that you’re not even registering the hot breath dusting over your exposed tummy, and the gradual rise of your shirt as Bob uses his nose to drag the fabric upwards, ghosting his lips over your navel.

Bob shakes his head against you, mildly entertained by your cluelessness.

“Remind me to never work with the english department again,” you huff, hands now curling into fist at your sides, regretting your decision to assist with that course over the others available to you this semester.

“‘Cause now I have over eighty research papers to check ove–” With a light pull of his teeth, Bob loosens the drawstring of your sweatpants.

The sound of the thick cord coming undone from the knot is muted compared to your tangent, but your ears catch the noise, your stomach feels it, and your mouth clamps shut immediately.

Blinking at the ceiling dumbly, you open your mouth to say his name, but it just snaps shut again.

After a beat of silence, there’s two sets of fingers hooked into the loose band of your sweats next, giving your pants a suggestive tug.

Bob makes sure to keep his patience at bay, wanting to soak in your flustered state, just a bit more. Because, honestly, he would’ve ripped these sweats off you long ago if you weren’t so cute—already so meek and tiny under him.

With your eyes still refusing to meet his very own, you miss him running an intending gaze over the underside of your jaw, and making note of the bead of sweat running down your cheek. While you were the one mostly making him nervous in your relationship, it was a nice change of pace to inflict it back onto you once in a while. You were so obliging too.

Bob lowly hums, eyes dropping to the strappy pink lace sitting on your hip bone, revealed by his slight yank of your sweats. “Honeybee..” he commands your attention. “You gonna let me see these cute little panties you got on for me?”

Bashfully, you lift your butt off the mattress, letting him pull it off your waist. Because, yes, you will let him. Though, you’re sure they’re thoroughly soaked through at this point.

“There’s my good girl,” he sings, deep voice vibrating through his chest, pleased by your obedience.

If you weren’t very aware that his head was currently stationed between your legs, you would’ve clenched your thighs together at his raspy tone.

Finally, you suck in a nervous breath, redirecting your attention down to your boyfriend who’s starting to make his way down your legs—dragging down the thick fabric, leaving wet open mouthed kisses to the flesh of your thighs, to the side of your calves, and finally to your ankle.

Near the foot of the bed, he sits up momentarily to tear your pants off your feet. They go flying into his open closet. “B-Bobby,” your breath shallows at his sudden forwardness.

“What? Nothin’ to complain about anymore?” He quietly teases, a faint smirk playing on his lips, laying back between your ankles.

“Well…I—not really. No it’s just–,” you stammer, rubbing the wet pads of your fingers together.

“That’s what I thought,” he cuts you off.

Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Bob makes his way back up your naked legs. All you can do is blink at him, arousal sitting heavy at your pulsating core. He almost looks unrecognizable. The baby blue eyes you’re so used to seeing are casted over in a thick, dark, cloud of lust.

With him settled between your thighs, Bob’s eyes snap down to your slick, leaking through the flowery lace pattern in front of him. “So fuckin’ wet for me honey,” he marvels, licking a slow, flat stripe to your covered folds, with a slight pressure against you, coating his tastebuds in your arousal. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud, teasingly, as he moves off.

“Please,” you thoughtlessly whine, heat blooming through your chest.

Without so much of a warning, Bob roughly tears off your panties with one hand, pocketing it for himself.

You raise your voice. “No! That was—” Again, he cuts you off.

In an instant, his front is pressed to yours, pushing you into the mattress, meeting you in a desperate, sloppy kiss. Eyes fluttering close, you return the eagerness, letting him swallow every small noise that sears through your throat. Then, a fuzz takes over your brain, eyes scrunching in pleasure as his knee nudges your exposed clit. The scratchy fabric of his plaid pants drives you on, more than you expected it to.

You can’t help but to buck your hips, chasing the feeling. But the moment you start a steady grind against him, Bob stills you, pressing a firm hand on your hip, ripping his mouth from you at the realization that you’re starting to get yourself off.

At the loss of his knee, a small whine escapes your lips, and your glossy eyes blink open again.

There’s a light threat resting on his tongue, but it immediately dies at the sight of you, pupils shot, underneath him.

Even with the steady hold of your lower half, you’re shaking as you struggle to remain still for him. The pinch of his eyebrows loosen, eyes dropping down to the heave of your chest under his t-shirt. But what finally does it, is the way his hand fully swallows the side of your hip. Experimentally, he stretches his fingers against you, scanning the amount of skin he covers with the move.

Biting your lip nervously, you start to pathetically plead with him again. “I’m sorry. I–I’ll be good. I–Please. Will be so good for you.”

He knows he should’ve held out longer, but for some reason—he’s spurred on to get his hands on you again.

In a matter of seconds, he dips back down, placing bites on your sweaty neck. You’re so sure it’s punishment for trying to ride his knee, because he’s leaving them in spots he knew would be hard to hide.

The hand that was previously keeping you steady, extends down to your swollen folds, forcing a pitched whine from your throat as he toys your clit. “Oh–Ah–F-Fuck,” you moan, clamping one hand around the back of his neck, as the other scrunches the sheet below you.

Dipping his thumb down to your dripping entrance, he collects your slick, before coating your bundle of nerves with it. Then, Bob bites down harshly on your collarbone, continuing to draw tight, uniformed circles as you mewl from the precision.

It’s almost heartless, the way his pointer and middle finger curl into you next, roughly working against your walls that instinctively tighten around him. You're glad no one's home, because you couldn’t be bothered to stifle the shaky moans and mindless string of pleas that falls from your lips, begging him for more. Because it just feels too good. But, even if some of his house-mates were present, you're not too sure if you could stay quiet.

"That good, huh?" He licks over one of the marks he's been littering across your skin.

Bob’s mouth pulls into a pleased smirk against the side of your neck, letting you chase his hand, hips snapping off the mattress as you soak him down to his wrist. With his other hand, Bob’s palm travels up your bunched up shirt, giving your left breast a quick squeeze before rolling the hardened bud between two fingers.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs in your ear, putting more pressure on your swollen clit, working in unison with the unrelenting drag of his fingers inside you. All you can do is blabber, brows knitted in pleasure—too caught up in the building knot in your stomach. “I—I want—” You careen off the mattress again, rolling against his drenched hand.

“What is it?” He clicks his tongue at your incoherent response, fucking his fingers into you harder.

In response, another jumble of unintelligible sentences is pushed out of you. “Want my mouth on that pretty pussy? Is that it?”

The palm under your shirt slips downward, as he removes himself from the crook of your neck, trailing down to your sopping core—all while keeping the bruising pace of his hand against you, eyes glued to the glossy sheen coating his entire forearm. It’s quick, the way he swaps from his thumb to his tongue, suctioning it around your clit, giving it all of his attention.

You’re not even sure you’re breathing anymore. There’s a burn rippling through your lungs as your jaw hangs open in a silent moan, unable to grapple the feeling of him groaning loudly against you.

With your orgasm growing in the pit of your stomach Bob pushes you closer to it, adding a third finger, splitting you open and hitting you at the exact spot that gets your thighs to clench around his head, muffling his ears. With the confirmation that you’re close, his eyes snap shut—lapping at you with such vigor that the intensity finally sends you over the edge.

The orgasm hits like a strong wave, washing over your trembling body as it racks every part of you. You're so sure, you felt your bones shake inside you. Underneath you, Bob slowly removes himself from your sensitive core, sweetly pressing his lips to your inner thigh, murmuring praise with each soft kiss.

You suck in a much-needed breath of air, trying to focus your vision. At the moment, Bob has two ceiling fans overlapping over each other.

“I–I don’t even care about the essays anymore,” you confess. How could you when your boyfriend ate you out like his life depended on it?

Tucking your chin, you curiously look down at him. With your wetness completely coating half his face, leading down to his bobbing Adam’s apple—he lightly laughs. He looks that good, and he has the audacity to laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up—as if you aren’t half naked in front of him.

You’ve always had trouble hiding your fluster when he smiled at you like that—So you’re certain, he can see how it’s affecting you.

“That was my intention, Honeybee,” he rises to sit his knees, gently scooping you into a sitting position.

The oversized tee drops down your upper body as you sit up in front of him. You shouldn’t be—but you’re embarrassed to feel his sticky hand on the small of your back as he holds you up. “I love you, but you gotta give yourself a break. I can listen to you all day, swear it. I just—don’t like seeing you stress yourself out for no reason.”

He kisses your forehead, almost as if he's implanting the reminder there. Bob then gives your back an affectionate rub, prompting your lips to twitch, a tell-tale sign they’re about to wobble next.

Biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself, you lean forward, wrapping your weak arms around his neck. “I love you so much. Don’t deserve you,” you profess, brows knitted together—hit with the random urge to cry.

The only response you ever got from your incessant ranting were snappy remarks, telling you to shut up or go into another room if you were gonna talk to yourself. But here you are, in the arms of the first person to ever admit that they don’t mind it. On top of that, he even loves you—caring enough to voice his concerns about your habit of rambling, which only resulted in a build up of unwanted anxiety.

Bob softens, pulling you closer to him, petting the top of your head. “You deserve me,” he assures you. “And you deserve a bath too, with me,” he adds on.

You quietly sniffle. “And cuddles.”

“How could I forget,” he scolds himself jokingly, drawing a giggle from you. At that, his mouth breaks out in a smile. “Then you can catch me up on the stuff you were tellin’ me about last week. You haven’t told me what happened after Professor Benjamin was caught with Bradley’s uncle.”

“Oh! Right. So when I walked in on them…” Bob listens intently, coaxing you off his mattress, laughing at your—maybe too detailed—description of what you saw. Once you’re both inside the bathroom, you move onto your opinions and theories next. Bob leans in close to your seated figure on the bathtub ledge, letting you talk into his ear, tuning out the loud bath water shooting out the faucet.

His eyes widen, pulling back in surprise at your theory. “No way!”

“Yes, way!” You burst out in laughter, grabbing onto his shirt as he joins you. He makes sure to cradle your head so it doesn’t hit the sink by the tub. The sound of the running water can barely be heard over the obnoxious cries of laughter that come next.

After the bath, the rest of the day is spent with you playing with his hair as you stream through your gossip, updating your attentive boyfriend on what he missed out on. And he enjoys every second of it.

So, it just stamps it down further, that Bob never had a problem with how chatty you got.

note: thank you for reading, seeing that i'm struggling a bit to put something out for this series, i decided to put this out for now! :) as always, thank you for reading and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @blueoorchid @queen-of-elves @cherrylipgloss-baby @purplevortexx @goosterroose @floralfloyd @doggo-and-goosey @chicomonks @maplesyurp07 @grxcisxhy-wp @anna1523 @laylaskywalker

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fic #bob x reader #tgm smut #tgm fic #bob floyd au

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sebsxphia · 8 months

Text

three tender lovers.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader x jake ‘hangman’ seresin.

￫ description: bob proposes a solution to jake’s remarks to the marks on bob’s back. all three of you find resolution and something else. love.

￫ word count: 6.7K.

￫ c/w: threesome, sex, blowjobs, squirting, kissing, double creampie, nipple pinching, biting, scratching, praise, minor degradation, overstimulation, hints of mean dom bob and dom jake, use of the nickname “bunny”, crying kink if you squint, sub-space, aftercare, beginnings of a poly!relationship and our boys kissin’.

￫ a/n: this is for @sushiwriterhere threesomeissance 2023 writing event! thank you so much for tagging me my love, this was so much fun to write! <3 make sure you check out the other incredible pieces! <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob up-stretched his arms and shed his undershirt from his flight suit. It practically stuck to his skin with sweat and grime from a day of flying too close to the sun. He was about to hit the showers quickly in enough time to make it back home to you.

He was never one to hang about after training. The quicker he could get in and out, the quicker he could get home to his wife. That was before he heard a loud clang of a locker from behind him, followed by a whistle.

“Damn, Baby. You’ve been in a fight with a bear or somethin’?”

Jake’s voice from behind Bob caused his eye to twitch. He turned around to face the blonde pilot with an unphased expression on his face. Jake on the other hand was wearing his million-dollar, cock sure smile. He leaned against his locker with nothing on. All he was holding was his towel, bunched up in his hand and just about covering his cock.

Bob hated how overly confident Jake could be in the showers. He also hated how he found himself always trying to get a glance.

Jake had opted to now call Bob, Baby. It all stemmed from his years-old joke of what B.O.B. stood for. Baby on Board was too long for Jake, so he was just Baby.

“How’d you get those war marks on your back, Baby?” Jake jabbed again, licking at his bottom lip.

Bob’s eyes narrowed inwards towards Jake before cooling off. He chewed at the inside of his cheek as he remembered last night with you. He wanted to tell Jake to fuck off and that his sex with you is private, and he’d never utter a word to anyone about your shared, deepest darkest fantasies.

But then he remembered your shared discussion of bringing someone else in and how you both settled on Jake as a possible option. It was only talk, but at this point, Bob bit the hand that fed him.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “Why don’t y’ ask my wife?”

A chorus of hollers and cheers from the other pilots in the locker room could be heard and Jake bit back a laugh.

“As if, Baby. I don’t believe you fuck that good.”

“Y’ know, Bagman, if y’ want to see, how about you fuck my wife yourself?” He slammed his locker door and stared down at Jake.

Bob couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t. It had been playful, teasing jabs at one another for years and as it went on, they became far more flirtatious on both party's accounts. The locker room went into another uproar at Bob’s quick tongue and mouthful back at the cocky pilot, but he was still holding his intense gaze.

Jake’s smile had faltered an inch, only his eyes zoned in on Bob’s. He let his tongue run alongside his cheek and puffed out his chest. He wanted Bob to call bluff so badly, to call off whatever this was, to prove Jake wrong that he hadn’t been flirting with him all these years, but Bob didn’t move an inch. Not until he flung his towel over his shoulder and headed for the showers.

He briefly heard the laughter and other remarks from the pilots before the commotion died down. As he turned on the shower, the sound of water filtering through and splashing on the tiles drowned out the rest. That was until he heard the footsteps inch closer towards him.

Out of Bob’s peripheral vision, broad shoulders and sandy blonde hair came too. He continued to pay no mind to him and let the sound of the water continue to fill the room. It ran over the thick and heavy tension that was settling in the air. Neither of them spoke a word as they lathered themselves up with soap and let the duds fall to the tiles and down the drain. Unknown to either of them, they would occasionally steal glances at the other when getting the soap out of their eyes.

Bob would watch how the droplets of water dribbled down Jake’s toned torso and caught on the soft hairs of his pubic bone.

Jake would follow the trail of veins poking through Bob’s forearms and up his biceps, watching how they flexed in time with him washing the shampoo out of his hair.

Bob reached to the small shelf holding the soap to lather himself one last time. His fingers outstretched and met another set of hands reaching for the same. They met Jake’s and through the soaking water, he felt a jolt meet his fingertips and run through his veins. He was surprised at how soft they felt, yet he knew they could control a whole aircraft. It made a shiver start in his neck and run down his spine. The warm water did nothing to hide the goosebumps that were left in its wake.

Jake looked up and caught Bob’s eyes for the first time during the shower. He swallowed thickly before croaking out, “Baby, what I said back there, I didn’t mean—”

“This Saturday. I know you’re free. Come round to ours at seven.”

Before Jake could respond to Bob’s bold response, he slammed his water off, grabbed his towel and was out of the shower.

Jake was left with his lips parted in a breathless and wordless daze. His hand was still wrapped around the soap and squeezing so tight, he didn’t realize he had destroyed the bar completely.

He couldn’t believe he was here. He’d been round to Bob’s only once before and that was only to drop some paperwork off. He hadn’t even been in his hallway, let alone his bedroom, with his wife.

Everything had been agreed upon prior. Jake came round at seven on the Saturday as agreed and you answered the door with a warm and welcoming smile.

He could never deny that Bob’s wife was beautiful. You were radiant. He offered in return a kiss to your cheek and let his large hand fall to the small of your back, bringing you in. His hand was warm and firm. You felt your heart pound a little faster through your rib cage at his touch, letting your mind wonder what his hand would feel like against your bare skin.

Jake let himself inhale your perfume that rested under your jaw and the sweet smell of shampoo in your hair. It was intoxicating to him. You were beaming at him as you greeted him politely, took his jacket and hung it up on the coat hooks in the hallway.

It was such a simple gesture, but with the combined smell of something delicious cooking through the kitchen, Jake felt safe. He had entered a warm and loving home, and it settled his nerves to whatever was about to be offered.

You ate (with Jake complimenting Bob’s cooking more times than he could count), exchanged more polite conversation and then agreed on what was to happen. You slinked up to your bedroom to shed your sundress into something else before calling your husband and his co-worker upstairs. Bob took the lead up the stairs with Jake following behind.

As he came into your bedroom and saw the sight of you, a deep rumble of appreciation left Bob’s chest with a smirk resting on his lips. “My beautiful, beautiful, wife. You look gorgeous, darlin’.”

“Thank you.” You shyly replied, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks as Jake came through the doorway and his eyes fell on you.

It was the first time he had seen you like this. So exposed, so vulnerable. You were wearing a simple oversized white shirt, one that Bob would wear with his Navy whites. It was far too torn and tattered for him to wear anymore, but it became a piece of clothing Bob would become ravenous over, especially if you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

The open shirt lay over your stiff nipples but didn’t hide the swell of your breasts. With your legs crossed as you sat on the edge of your bed, you could just about catch the soft mound of your pubic bone, but your thighs were exposed. The drape of the shirt barely covered them.

Jake swallowed thickly again and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, feeling his mouth dry up ever more. He let his heavy gaze run up and over your body and your cheeks only turned a rosier shade of pink, flushed hot. His cock twitched in his pants and it prompted him, after not saying anything for what seemed like an eternity.

“You… You look, gorgeous. Bob’s a lucky husband.” Jake half-heartedly laughed.

He was nervous.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was nervous.

Bob had a natural-born instinct for reading people and he could tell in an instant what Jake was doing.

Truth be told, Jake had already had a couple of threesomes in his lifetime, but it had never been this intimate. It had never been with a co-worker's wife, never with someone who he had come to like, never in a safe and loving environment.

Bob let his hand fall to Jake’s back and gently ran his thumb in circles to soothe the nerves of the pilot. He smoothed his hand down his back further and gently linked his fingers with his to coax him closer to you and your bed.

Jake now stood in front of you with Bob to the side and his hand gently resting in your hair. You stayed sat and gazed up at the tall blonde with a look of lust clouding your eyes.

“Jake?” You called out his name sweetly. It was barely above a whisper but his ears turned hot at hearing you say his name so sweetly. “Can I touch you?”

Your question and now the clear sight of your breasts caused Jake’s cock to twitch again, and he breathed out a desperate, “Yes.”

You tentatively reached your hands out and let your fingers graze over his shirt, feeling the ripple of muscles underneath him. You moved over his large forearms and further up his biceps. As your hands rose higher, you eventually stood up from the bed, Bob’s hand never leaving your frame and now resting on the small of your back. It was a familiar touch that still grounded you to him, despite the situation.

Your hands ran around his shoulders and behind his neck. “You can touch me, Jake.” You quietly prompted him, now standing to his height. His hands reached out and fell to your hips. He squeezed you gently through the crisp fabric of the shirt and you let out a gasp. “Remember, you say the word and we stop this.”

He nodded, but Bob pressed his finger to Jake’s chin to turn him. “Words, baby.”

Baby.

Bob Floyd was calling Jake, baby and it ignited something so deep within him he could feel a flame lick at his stomach.

“Yes. We say the words and we stop this.” Jake corrected himself and you smiled at him with an electrified smile. He had tasted love and it tasted sweet. The flame that was licking in his stomach was burning bright and deep, and it encouraged him greatly. He felt a newfound swell of confidence burn over him and he hooked his finger under your chin and brought your lips to his.

His kiss was soft at first, letting his lips become accustomed to yours before you let out a needful whine and tugged at the soft blonde hairs at the base of his neck. You pulled him closer and he reciprocated with a harsher squeeze of your hips. They were flush against his crotch and you could feel his ever-growing bulge rub against you. The grind from you caused him to groan into the kiss and let his tongue dip between your lips and run alongside.

Both your cheeks were flush with a warm glow and Bob could feel the heat radiating off you both, as you continued to press yourself against Jake growing hotter with desire. You parted from his lips with a gasp, unable to hold back your ever-growing smile.

“Jake, Bobby,” You turned to your husband whose eyes were heavy and his pupils completely dilated black. “I need you both.”

“Of course,” Bob purred and slid his hand from your back to the base of your neck, pulling you to be millimetres from his lips. “Will you be a good girl and show our guest what your pretty little mouth can do?”

You quietly moaned and nodded, letting Bob pull at your neck and press his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Jake let out a curse of your name at seeing you bend to his touch. He was beginning to get a taste of just how dominant Bob could be and it intrigued him even further.

“Off for me and on your knees,” Bob instructed you again with a flick of his finger under your shirt. You willingly shed your shirt and let it fall to the bed. Now completely naked to Jake, he let out a wanton groan. You sank to your knees and gazed longingly upwards at the two pilots, their cocks both straining hard against their trousers and appearing prominently.

The sight was nothing like Jake had ever seen before. Your nipples were stiff and you sat obediently with your hands in your lap, awaiting your husband's next instruction. But it never came. Jake’s shoulders had rolled backwards and he was relaxed. He was adhering to the agreement that you were to do as they say. He let his fingers cradle your jaw and gently slipped his thumb between your lips. You took it into your mouth eagerly and sucked on it. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb had him longing to know what it felt like on his hard cock.

“Jesus, such a sweet thing, Bobby. So good, so obedient.” Jake purred and Bob chuckled.

“There’s the Jake I had imagined in the bedroom,” Bob said lowly with a smirk.

Jake couldn’t hold back the heat that rose to his cheeks as he thought of Bob imagining him in the bedroom, but he was brought back to the present by the needy moan of you below them.

Bob shushed you gently and reassured you. “I’m sorry, darlin’. We’ve been deprivin’ you, haven’t we?” You nodded again and this time, they both let out a low chuckle.

They made quick work of unbuckling their belts and pushing the waistband of their boxers down to let their aching cocks slap against their torsos. You had always thought Bob was big, but Jake was no different. Your mouth began to salivate and you moved towards Bob, but his hand was in your hair and pulling you back with a click from his tongue.

“Nu-uh, darlin’. Guests first.”

You swallowed and looked back at Jake who was gazing down at you with his pupils blown wide with desire. He gripped the base of his cock and let his tip move past your lips tentatively. The soft feeling of your mouth wrapping just around his tip had Jake groaning. You moved your mouth further down his shaft, with Bob’s hand not letting go of your hair to steady you, but it couldn’t stop you. You wanted to feel Jake rest heavily on your tongue completely. You felt his tip nudge at your throat and a gag rumbled through your throat. Jake stumbled and his hips stuttered forward.

“Shit. Oh God, sweets. So needy for me already, hm?”

You whined around him and it vibrated off his shaft, earning another deep groan from Jake. Your eyes flicked to the side and you caught a glimpse of Bob fisting his cock heavy in his hand, his jaw set solid and his eyes trained heavily on you both, watching how your mouth took every inch of him. You wanted to put on a show for your dear and loving husband. You wanted to show him you craved this just as badly as him.

You worked your mouth up and over Jake’s thick shaft with precise strokes. Every time his swollen tip hit the back of your throat he let out another rumbled groan, earning smaller groans from Bob. Your tongue was laying flat underneath his base and it allowed Bob to gently start rocking your head for himself, letting Jake fuck your throat, his hips rocking into you.

Another handful of movements from Bob came before he was getting antsy. “C’ere, sweetheart.” He purred and moved your head off Jake to place your swollen lips around his shaft. You sunk easily, knowing every inch and vein like the back of your hand. Your nose brushed against Bob’s brown curls at his base as he rocked into your mouth. You gazed up at your husband with tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes from your throat being fucked so consistently. Bob’s jaw was still set firm as he revelled in the familiar feeling of his wife’s mouth, letting out deep moans and hissing when his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

But Jake was beginning to get cocky.

“I thought we were doing this so I could fuck your wife stupid. Earn those bear marks of yours.” Jake drawled out with a smug tone before reaching for your hair and pulling you off Bob, leaving him snarling from the loss of contact so suddenly. A pitiful whine left your lips with a string of saliva still connecting to your husband's tip. As you swallowed back around Jake’s cock you began to bounce gently on your knees, your bare cunt trying to find friction from the air as desperation began to make you clench around nothing.

Bob let out a chuckle as he saw you hump the air pathetically. “I don’t think y’ need to wait much longer.” He pulled you off Jake once more and cradled your jaw to let you gaze upwards. “Do y’ want to be fucked now, Bunny? You’ve been so good for me and your guests.”

“Please, please, please. I’ve been so good.” You pouted slightly, your eyes pleading desperately with your husband. He hummed in pleasant agreement and reached down to pick you up gently, laying you on the bed as if you were fragile porcelain.

By this time Jake was already stripping himself off his clothes and Bob followed in tandem. Although your mouth was just full of heavy saliva, your throat dried up and your breathing quickened as you caught sight of the two naked pilots. Bob’s beauty was always intoxicating and dizzying to you and you found Jake giving you the same effect.

You counted your lucky stars of your current situation and your husband found himself doing the same. He had seen Jake naked too many times for him to count, but this was different. His eyes were heavy with desire, and his cheeks and chest were flushed with the most beautiful rosy pink. He had never noticed how blonde the soft curls were on his pubic bone, as his cock was pressed against his tone torso, although he’d caught sight of them constantly in the showers. They replicated how his hair was dusty and sun-kissed blonde, already becoming ruffled from Jake running his hand through his hair.

Bob thought he’d never looked so handsome.

“Jake?”

“Baby?”

The name made Bob shiver and his stomach crashed like thunderous waves against stone rocks.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Baby.” Jake gasped before wrapping his hand around the back of Bob’s head, his fingers tugging gently on his hair as he pressed his lips against his. They both let out a deep moan in unison. Years of tension and yearning rolled off their shoulders and bubbled up their throats as they tasted each other for the first time.

You watched keenly from the bed. It both made your heart bloom with a thousand flowers that your husband found solace within Jake and caused your abdomen to feel as though a thousand butterflies were coursing through you. Your thighs pressed and rubbed together to alleviate some of the growing arousal. You let out a whimper and they broke from the kiss to look at you, both with a lopsided smile on their faces.

As you pulled your thighs apart and felt the cool air run over your twitching cunt, Bob cooed. “Bunny, we’re so sorry. We’re comin’.”

Jake could feel his mouth salivate at the sight of Bob’s wife’s thighs spread apart and their pussy glistening with arousal, practically throbbing. “Look at that pretty pussy, sweets. Your thighs are slick already.” He groaned, kneeling between your thighs.

Bob took place up by your head, letting his hand soothe through your hair and his other holding the base of his cock, giving himself lazy, slow strokes.

Your hands came under your thighs to hold yourself open for him, squirming your hips closer to his cock as Jake took it in his hand and slapped it on your aching clit. It jolted sparks of pleasure through your abdomen at its first contact and you let out a loud whine. Your hips involuntarily bucked upwards to chase the feeling and Jake relished in the neediness of your touch. His free hand came to grip your hip as he ran his tip through your folds and collected your arousal, smearing it over your clit. It earned louder moans from yourself and more desperate bucking. He was smirking down at you with his signature cock sure smile.

“I want to remember the moment I slip my cock inside Bob’s wife’s tight pussy.”

He hissed as he slowly slid inside you and felt your slick walls take him, clenching tightly. He was thicker than Bob and you squirmed your hips, moaning as you adjusted to his size. He cursed to himself and threw his head back when your hips met his.

“Jesus, takin’ me so pretty, sweetheart. That’s it… Good fuckin’ girl.” He purred down to you as he momentarily slid out before feeling his tip run back over your sweet spot nestled deep inside you. At each slow and teasing stroke, you clenched tighter around him. You finally felt so full and you didn’t want the feeling to be taken away. You were desperately chasing it.

As he set a pace you glanced up at Bob with a couple of stray tears now leaving the corners of your eyes. “B—Bobby,” You whined. “He feels s’ g—good. It feels so good, fuck!”

Bob’s thumb gently wiped your tears away and smoothed over your hot cheeks, gently reassuring you. “Such a good girl for me. My pretty little wife looking s’ fuckin’ pretty takin’ another pilot's cock.”

As his thumb came down to his lips, you took it into your mouth to soothe yourself, but Bob removed it quickly. “No, no. C’ere,” He gripped the mid-length of his cock and let his tip fall between your parted lips. You eagerly sucked as much of his length as you could from this angle. “Good, Bunny.” He praised you.

You let your eyes flutter shut as the beginnings of complete pleasure roll over your body in waves. Over and over, you felt the powerful thrust of Jake’s hips with Bob rocking and resting heavily on your tongue. Two pairs of hands were gripping onto your flesh or soothing over your goosebumps, occasionally tugging on your stiff nipples to elicit louder, yet muffled, moans. You were stuffed full and you felt whole.

Jake’s thrusts picked up their pace and he was pistoning with such pressure you could feel the familiar warmth in your stomach grow. As his pubic bone met yours it grazed over your clit. It was small and frictionless contact, but the teasing alone had you nearly coming undone.

“They’re squeezin’ me so tight.” Jake gritted between his teeth, still cursing your name so pretty.

The corners of Bob’s lips quirked upwards and his eyes zoned in your expression. Your jaw was slack and although still stuffed full, you were drooling around his length with your eyes all but rolling back into your skull. He knew you were close.

“You want to earn those bear marks now?” Bob quipped. He grunted and nodded feverishly at him. Bob slipped from your mouth with drool still connecting to his tip. You mewled as he left you, but he was quick to reassure you he would be right here as he slid his hands into your hair.

With silent encouragement from Bob, Jake doubled down over your body and his large frame covered you whole. Your hands fell to his shoulders and gripped them tightly. One of his broad forearms rested by you to hold himself up enough that he could snake his hand between your slick sweaty bodies and find your aching clit. The soft pads of his fingers connected to you and you cried out his name loudly, finally feeling a firm pressure. He drew lazy circles around you with his thrusts now seemingly impossibly closer to you.

“Please, please, please… oh God!” Incoherent babbling left you as hot tears continued to streak down your cheeks. You never thought your husband’s, co-workers cock, could ever feel so fucking good.

“Bobby, Bobby!” You screamed instinctively. “Can I come?”

You heard him bark out a laugh behind you.

“Don’t ask me. It’s not my cock makin’ you cry, Bunny.”

Your brain was clouded with what felt like cotton and you scrambled to find the words quickly as your orgasm was building at a frighteningly quick pace.

“Jake! Can I come? Oh God, please can I come?” You babbled. Through his laboured breathing, you felt his warm breath tickle against your ear as he chuckled.

“Never gon’ want any other cock, sweets. I’ve ruined you for your husband, haven’t I?” Condensation was laced thick in his tone and it made you squeeze your eyes tightly shut, holding on so tight to stave off your orgasm.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” He barked out the order and your eyes peeled open with the most pleading expression you could muster, as he continued to rock deeply into you. Your nails by now were forming crescent shapes on his tanned skin. The beginnings of the bear marks. “Tell me, fuckin’ tell me and you can come.”

Everyone who was currently in the bedroom that was dowsed in the scent of sweat and sex, knew that this was not true. You would always love Bob and you would always want his cock. It was certainly still the most mouth-watering and appealing thing to you. You found yourself dreaming of having them both ruin you, forever.

But at this moment, Jake’s lusting and filthy words were clouding your senses and making Bob’s cock twitch heavy in his hand. For he too was incredibly aroused by Jake’s words and the sight below him.

“Y—you’ve, r—ruined me, Jake.” Your bottom lip began to tremble. “Please!” You begged with a hoarse cry. His fingertips pressed down firmer with precise motions and the last thing you saw before you snapped, was him grinning down at you like the Devil.

“Come for me, sweets.”

With a couple more swipes of his fingers over your abused clit, combined with the punishing pleasure from his thick cock, you were seeing stars. A white-hot feeling flooded from your abdomen outwards across your body. Your toes curled and you wailed. The crashing sensation of your orgasm wracked your body whole, cursing his name, Bob’s name.

You felt Bob’s hands soothe through your hair and you could faintly hear his sweet praise over Jake’s loud groans.

Jake didn’t let up with his thrusts. He pressed his sweaty frame closer to yours and snaked his hand away from your twitching clit. His face pressed into the crook of your neck and your nails raked over his back as he fucked you through your orgasm. With how close you were held against him, there was still enough friction rubbing mercilessly over your clit. His voice was hot in your ear and you heard him.

“Feel s’ fuckin’ good for me, I’m so lucky. You’re both so perfect, shit.” At his final curse, he groaned deep into your sweat-covered neck and you felt his teeth graze over your tender flesh and suck harshly. He was hissing and grunting with his thrusts becoming sloppier, but you could feel himself leak into you.

Everything was so deadly intoxicating. You never wanted to leave this room. You wanted to stay with them both forever.

His thrusts eventually slowed completely and he pulled off your burning frame. His own body was completely flushed pink with his sandy blonde hair mused and some strands of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. As his softening cock pulled out of you and you felt his spend trickle down your puffy lips, you let out a pitiful whine, suddenly feeling so empty.

He wore a satisfied grin as he gazed over the pretty sight of your pussy and then back up at Bob. You felt Bob’s large hands trail over your shoulders and squeeze against your breasts. You craned your neck to look at him with your eyelashes fluttering and a cock drunk smile plastered over your lips. Your body trembled with anticipation, knowing you still had Bob, and your clit was still aching for just one more.

A chorus of praises and strings of kisses to your warm flesh, left the two pilots' lips as they gently moved your trembling frame. Jake sat against the headboard with your back pressed against his chest. A pillow was slid under your hips to elevate them higher to allow Bob to make your eyes water from pleasure with the angle. Your hands were holding onto Jake’s forearms as you looked your husband in the eye, kneeling in front of you with a grin.

He held the base of his cock firmly and let his tip run through your folds and catch Jake’s spend mixing with your leaking arousal. He pushed it against your swollen clit and you let out a breathy moan, your eyes already faltering shut. Behind you, Jake watched the scene unfold with hooded eyes and soft groans. Bob teased you for a moment longer before easily bottoming out inside of you with a hiss and a groan.

“S’ warm for me, Bunny. Taken Jake’s cock and you’re still so tight for me, aren’t you?”

You mewled and dug your nails in tighter to Jake’s forearm, earning more scratches on his skin. Bob had patiently sat by and watched his friend fuck his wife. He was wasting no time and set a cruel pace instantly. The sudden feeling of feeling so full with his familiar size had you moaning and squirming your hips already, but he kept his hands firmly on your thighs to hold you open and take what he gave you. His swollen tip was rubbing mercilessly at your spongy sweet spot and the angle was enhancing your pleasure to a feeling so sweet, that you felt as though you could burst. One of Jake’s large hands snaked upwards to pinch and tweeze your nipples, heightening your sensitivity. You heard his groans low and hot in your ear as you responded with desperate whines.

Pleasure was licking at the flame in your abdomen, but with your heightened sensitivity it was producing something else. Something more.

“Oh, Bobby!” You practically wailed. He felt the way you clenched tightly around him and how your walls pushed down. He knew your body like the back of his hand.

He groaned at the tightening sensation and gave a final piercing thrust before pulling his cock out entirely. You pushed down and gasped out a breathy moan as you felt your arousal squirt out of you.

“That’s it, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” Bob groaned again with a knowing and smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He moved his fingers through your wetness and watched it splatter over your thighs.

“Jesus, Baby. Makin’ them feel so good.” Jake groaned louder from behind you, before directing his words back to you. “I’d love to see you squirt on my cock next.”

You could hear the cocky pilot's grin from behind you as he let his lips run over the shell of your ear and nibble gently.

There was a deadly concoction mixing in your abdomen as Bob bottomed out inside of you again and you took in Jake’s words. The notion of another night like this had your head spinning. Their sinful words and fiery touch on your skin had you feeling hot and dizzy. The pleasure was seeping through every vein of your body with every jolt caused by Bob’s cock pushing deep inside of you. You were gasping and moaning incoherently, only able to feel this ecstasy-inducing feeling. If it wasn’t for their grip on your body, you would’ve gone completely limp.

Suddenly you could feel Bob’s soft thumb on your now throbbing clit, rubbing precise circles. There was nothing lazy about Bob Floyd when he fucked.

Hot tears began to fall from the corners of your eyes and streak down your cheeks. You were babbling nonsense by now and you felt your impending orgasm grow closer with each swipe of his thumb. Your jaw was going slack and as you panted hungrily, tiny droplets of drool were pooling in the corners of your mouth.

“Are you gonna come again?” You whimpered his name in response and Bob snickered. “You are, aren’t you? So desperate for cock. It’s pathetic to watch. My sweet little Bunny practically drools as they take another man’s cock.”

Your stomach swirled at his words, in time with the swirl of his thumb. “Bobby!” It was a shriek of a plea, like nothing Jake had ever heard before. “Please can I come? Please, please, please…”

As you begged harder, your tears began to fall harder. Bob watched your body lovingly, with heavy hooded eyes. He saw every twitch, every shiver, every squirm, and he knew when your body couldn’t take anymore. He was still merciless with his strokes and thumb, but as you locked your pleading and tearing eyes with him once more, his firm set expression softened and his voice was coaxing you.

“Come. Come for me my baby Bunny.”

Your jaw went slack and a silent scream tore from your throat as you let the bubbling sensation of your orgasm burst through your abdomen, feeling the tendrils of pleasure wash over your body in crashing waves. Your hands shot up to wrap around the back of Jake’s head and pull tightly on the smaller hairs at the base of his neck. Your body withered and your chest was heaving, panting furiously as the sensation rolled over your body repeatedly. You faintly heard a string of praise from them both, Jake’s low voice still hot in your ear. Bob’s praise turned to grunts and with two more forceful thrusts, you could feel him leak his spend inside of you.

His ministrations slowed and as your head lolled to the side of Jake’s shoulder, you still let out a quiet and needy whine again, feeling so empty and feeling the now double mix of cum leaking from your abused cunt.

Your head felt full of cotton. You reached out with shaky hands to your lover. “Bobby…” You breathed out, barely above a whisper. He leaned down and took your shaking frame from Jake’s slick chest. He pressed you close to his own and with Jake’s help, he moved you to lay limp against him with his broad arms encasing you tightly. Jake stayed next to you both and let his fingers trail tenderly over your damp back.

All three of your chests were steadying out with calculated breaths, as you all came down from your highs. Tender and loving kisses were placed on your skin from them both, and more hushed words of love and praise were whispered close to your ears.

When your energy eventually came back, Bob cleaned you up gently with Jake’s help. The remainder of the leftovers from your prior dinner were fed to you and you gulped down more glasses of water than you could count. The duvet cover was changed and with your head still feeling full of soft cotton, and your body swimming with the afterglow, your two pilots lay down to sleep with you.

Before the peaceful waves of sleep pulled you under, you remember watching how lovingly Jake cradled Bob’s jaw and placed a kiss on his lips. The next thing you felt was his tender fingers bringing your jaw up to place his lips on yours. Your cheek then felt another pair of lips and you turned your face to find Bobby’s.

You kissed them both a handful more times. Each time your heart pounded a little faster and you felt the thousand butterflies flutter through your stomach.

Maybe this could work.

Maybe, this could be a forever thing.

Jake stayed on Sunday till around three in the afternoon. You all woke up late and lazily gathered yourselves to share a warm, yet deeply refreshing, shower.

You spent the rest of your time in the kitchen, just talking and eating. You spoke about everything and anything. You talked about the prior night, you talked about aircraft manoeuvres that had gone wrong, and you asked Jake about his home and where he grew up. Occasionally you found yourself pressed into Jake’s side with one of his broad arms incasing you close to his chest, as you both watched Bob cook up the food. Jake insisted that he would make you both a homemade recipe his Ma taught him some time.

All three of you exchanged fluttering touches and loving kisses with each other, and Jake found something blooming deep within his chest. He felt safe within this peaceful and domesticated home. He didn’t want to leave.

Come the evening on the Sunday, you were curled in between Bob’s thighs as you both read in peaceful silence.

“I really like him, you know.”

You spoke out into the silence. There was a beat before you felt Bob’s chest take a deep breath and then exhale. You glanced up at him and he wore a soft smile as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. Me too, Bunny. Me too.”

A chorus of loud cheers and hollers broke out and echoed across the locker room on Monday. Javy slapped Jake on his bare back, making note of the marks scratched down his flesh.

“Jake! Now who’s been fighting with a bear?”

Bob continued to look forward at his locker as he gathered up the remainder of his belongings, paying no note to the commotion he heard behind him.

Jake huffed out a laugh and flashed his signature smile to Javy, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Bob smiled to himself at hearing Jake’s words. The images of Saturday evening and his wife scratching their nails down his back were flashing evidently behind his eyes. Once he heard the others trail off to the showers, he turned around to face him. It was only them left in the locker room and he leaned back against his locker, watching Jake pull his jacket on and reach for his bag.

“We’re really lookin’ forward to having you round for dinner tomorrow night.”

Jake’s head perked up at Bob’s words, his signature smile still etched over his face.

“Yeah, me too, Floyd.”

Jake placed his hand on Bob’s shoulder to move past him and leave the locker room, but before he took another step further, he lingered for a moment longer. Jake’s lips brushed up against the shell of Bob’s ear and in a low and flirtatious drawl, he whispered, “Bye, Baby.”

And he left.

Jake didn’t look back and see how Bob was biting down frightfully hard on his bottom lip to hold back the beaming and lovesick smile he was currently adorning. He didn’t see how Bob’s cheeks flushed a rosy pink colour in seconds. All he saw ahead of him was a future of tender love with you and Bob.

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