#bob fluff
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Brighter Than a Supernova | Bob Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister
Summary: Bob planned to simply stop by Phoenix's Hanukkah party for a few minutes before heading back home. He'd hang out with the guys for a bit, even though he never quite felt like he fit in with them, and he'd meet the little sister Phoenix often referred to as annoying. But he had no idea how bright and magical one night could be compared to every other night that had come before.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, feeling insecure, loss of virginity, smut, drinking
Length: 9000 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Phoenix's Little Sister (OC)
This was written for the Winter RomCom Challenge hosted by @bellaireland1981! Check my masterlist for more. Beautiful banner made by @ryebecca
"Bob, you're coming over tomorrow night, right?"
When he turned to look at his friend, Bob couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that washed over him. "I think so."
Natasha sighed and reached for his hand and gave him a little squeeze. He hadn't been at Top Gun as long as everyone else, and he felt like he didn't really fit in with them. Even now, the other guys were all hooting and playing keep away with Reuben's phone while Bob stood off to the side on the tarmac.
"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just a Hanukkah party," she whispered with a smile. She always seemed to be able to tell when he got lost in his own thoughts, and he would be forever grateful that she was the pilot he got to fly with.
He shook his head and looked over at their Super Hornet. "I've never been to one before," he muttered. "And I'll probably just end up sitting quietly all night."
Now Natasha was squeezing both of his hands. "But we already drew names for our gift exchange. And you won't be the only one newer to the group. My obnoxious little sister, Nova, is coming in from New York, remember? She's graduating from college in the spring? She hasn't met any of the guys yet."
"But-"
"Bob, I really want you to come," she said firmly, looking up at him with her dark brown eyes. He trusted her in the air, he might as well trust her on the ground, too.
"Okay. I'll be there."
But when Bob parked his truck in front of Phoenix's tiny house on Saturday evening, his hands were shaking slightly as he held the wrapped gift. He absolutely hated that he got this way around the guys. They hadn't done anything to make him feel this way, really. He just generally didn't fit in anywhere, something he was very aware of at age twenty eight. But he would do this for Natasha.
He climbed out of his truck with the gift and a bottle of wine and walked up to the front door. Should he knock? Or just walk inside? It sounded noisy even out here, so after he tapped on the door a few times and nobody opened it, he just let himself in.
"Bob's here!" Jake called out from the couch, waving him over to where he was drinking a beer while Javy tried to spin two dreidels at the same time.
"Bob!" Natasha practically shouted as she ran his way. He had to juggle the bottle of wine so he didn't drop it. "Can you help me make latkes? Nova and I have been peeling potatoes for what feels like hours, and now we're heating up the oil."
"I don't know how to make latkes," he told her, but his eyes caught on the woman standing in the kitchen laughing at Bradley. He could only see her profile, but she had long, dark brown hair just like Natasha. Only she was a little taller and a bit curvier, and when she turned to look over her shoulder, he wanted to run and hide.
"It's easy, Bob. It's just a potato pancake. Nothing scary," Natasha whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "Come meet Nova, and you can help us cook."
He swallowed hard, realizing that the brunette goddess holding a potato peeler in one while she smiled directly at him was Natasha's little sister. The one she always referred to as obnoxious and annoying. This was... decidedly not what he had imagined.
Bob didn't know where to look. Every part of her was so pretty. She was wearing black leggings and a cropped long sleeve shirt that was purple and said NYU on the front. He could see some of the soft looking skin just above her leggings, and his eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment. She was barefoot with neon orange painted toenails that for some reason made Bob a little short of breath.
"Bob, this is my sister Nova," Nat told him, rubbing his back gently as his gaze wandered back up along her curves. His eyes landed on her face as Natasha said, "Nova, this is Bob. Please don't annoy him."
"Hi," she said with a little smirk on her face. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and reached her hand out to him. "I've heard a lot about you, Bob."
He was terrified that he would stutter or trip over his words, but he just said something stupid instead. "You don't look annoying."
She laughed as she shook his hand. "Oh, I can assure you, I am." Her eyes were the same color as her sister's, but they were looking at him playfully as she nibbled on her lip. It was easy to tell Nova and Natasha were sisters, but there were some differences, too. Bob had the fleeting thought that he wouldn't mind just looking at her all night until he identified them all.
"Feel free to ignore her," Nat told him as she went to stand in front of the stove. "I usually do."
"I don't see how that would be possible," Bob murmured, and Nova laughed again before he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks flush as he tried to look at anything besides her, but as soon as he did, Bradley dove for her attention.
"So tell me all about New York CIty," he said as if he'd never heard of it before. This was fine though. Better even. Nova and Bradley could just flirt all night, and Bob could help cook and then probably leave soon. That way everyone would win.
After a few minutes, he desperately wanted to ask Natasha if they could cook any faster so he could open his impersonal gift from one of the guys and get going. But he found that making latkes was actually pretty enjoyable.
"That's too much egg," she told him, laughing at his messy hands as his glasses slid down his nose. "You need more flour." But her hands were a mess, too, and Bob was trying to adjust his glasses on his shoulder.
When he turned to the side, he saw Bradley, Mickey and Jake all talking to Nova, but she was actually looking right at him as he very awkwardly shrugged his shoulder against his glasses. "I got you, Bob," she said, closing the distance to him and helping him out. She adjusted his frames on his face, and then she ran her fingers along his hair and behind his ears. "Better?"
He watched her pull her hands away and wished she wouldn't. "Yes," he whispered. "Thank you." Then he just stared at her as she made no move to back away.
"You're welcome. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?"
He swallowed hard as he washed his hands and shook his head. "This is my... first time."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Perfect! You can help me light the candles, and I can teach you the prayers."
"Might as well light the menorah now," Natasha told her as she flipped some of the squishy looking potato blobs over in the hot oil. The kitchen smelled like fried food, and there was a huge box of donuts that the other guys already got into. Javy brought the dreidels into the kitchen, and he was currently spinning five at one time. This holiday actually didn't seem so bad. Especially when Nova reached for his hand.
"Gather around," she announced with the kind of confidence Bob would never have, and all the guys followed her to the other side of the island. But she kept Bob right there with her and smiled up at him. "Here you go," she said, handing him the lighter. Then she stuck some candles in the menorah.
"Don't you light them from left to right?" Bradley asked as he sipped a beer and ate a jelly donut while glaring at Bob.
"Yes!" she replied as she put the last candle in for the eighth night.
"You want me to light them for you, Bob?" Bradley asked, and Bob was just about to hand the lighter over when Nova reached for his hand.
"I'm going to say a really pretty prayer in Hebrew about how Hanukkah is a time to celebrate miracles," she told him, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys as Jake started whining that he was hungry. But Bob was transfixed. He was suddenly dying to hear this prayer. He could see the light smattering of freckles on Nova's cheeks as he stood this close to her. He never noticed before if Nat had freckles.
It would be a Hanukkah miracle if Bob could get through the evening. When she told him to light the center candle and then pick it up, he did. And then her hand joined his as they lit the candles together, but Bob wasn't looking at the menorah. He was looking at her face and the way her lips moved as she almost sang the prayer. Then he kept his hand on hers as long as he could, the warm candlelight making her face glow.
When she dropped her hand to her side, Bob could feel her fingers kind of tangle with his, and he had no idea what to do about it. He was suddenly painfully aware that he'd never had a girlfriend before, and he almost wished she was paying this much attention to someone else.
"Latkes are done!" Natasha announced, and Bob took a step away from Nova. He cleared his throat and then turned to leave the kitchen as everyone else made a dash for the food. When he retreated for the relative quiet of the powder room, he could feel dark eyes on his back.
Bob realized he'd been in the bathroom for long enough that someone might think he was sick, but he couldn't stop splashing cool water on his face. He had been prepared for something else tonight, but not this. Maybe Nova was just an annoying little sister to Phoenix, but to him, she was exquisite. He needed to leave now before he could embarrass himself more.
After he dried his hands, he quietly opened the door, but then he paused. He could hear voices. Two female voices, and he could easily tell them apart as he stood there eavesdropping.
"Natasha, you lied to me," Nova whispered loudly. "You said Bob was kind of nerdy!"
Oh no. She must have thought Bob was extremely nerdy. Perhaps he could make a run for the front door, and maybe nobody would notice he'd gone.
"I mean, he is," Natasha replied softly.
"No, he's not!" Nova hissed. "He's hot! You know I have a thing for glasses and biceps, you rotten liar!"
Now Bob was frozen in place. He was pretty sure they were talking about him, but there was a chance he misheard.
"Nova," Natasha snapped a little louder this time. "Bob is one of my best friends, and he's very kind. Do not toy with him."
There was a pause, but then Bob heard her soft response. "I wouldn't. You can tell how sweet he is from a mile away."
He looked in the mirror one more time before leaving the powder room. It wasn't that he was bad looking, it was just that he was awkward. Compared to the other guys, he was a joke. Maybe Nova somehow hadn't noticed that yet. He forced himself out to the small hallway where the two sisters were standing close together near the kitchen, and the way Nova looked at him just didn't make sense.
"Grab some latkes," she said as he walked past. "I'll save you a spot on the couch for the gift exchange?"
Bob swallowed hard. "Sure. Thank you."
When he ducked into the kitchen, he heard her whisper to Nat, "He has nice manners, too."
Nat groaned. "I can't believe you have a crush on my WSO."
"Yeah, well, you shouldn't have kept this information from me."
Bob was anxiously piling a plate with more latkes than he could probably finish when Nova flounced into the room, picked up her half empty glass of wine along with an unused one and winked at him. "I'll be in the living room, and I have a glass for you," she said.
He looked down at the potato concoctions on his plate, and they looked good. He tried a bite, and it was delicious, but he'd lost his appetite. Nova Trace had a crush on him, and now he had to go sit with her and drink some wine without looking like a moron.
After a few more bites, he pushed his plate aside and headed to the living room where she was sitting right next to Bradley. He had his arm draped across the back of the couch a little possessively, and Bob froze, blinking at the scene before him. He had the undeniable urge to remove Bradley's arm and wrap her up with own.
"Bob," she called, scooting away from Bradley and patting the cushion. Once he squeezed in between her and Bradley, he realized he was touching her no matter what he did. And then she took his arm and draped it around her shoulders, leaning back against his chest a little bit. "It's a tight fit," she said, handing him a glass of wine.
"Seriously?" Bradley grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. Bob wasn't sure what to say as he had an armful of the cute girl who was in demand. This was all new to him. So he just drank all of his wine and pretended to watch everyone open their gifts.
When he set his empty glass down on the table, Nat handed him a small box wrapped in silver paper. He didn't recognize the pretty handwriting that said To: Bob.
"Oh," Nova whispered, reaching for it. "You don't have to open it."
"It's from you?" Bob asked, and she looked up at him over her shoulder, face just inches from his.
"Yeah, but it just seems kind of dumb now," she muttered, playing with the hem of her top. "Nat made it seem like you were super nerdy or something," she laughed. "And clearly that's not the case. You're hot."
Bob chuckled; this whole entire night was completely absurd. "I've never been called hot before."
Nova rolled her eyes. "You know what? Just go ahead and open your present," she said, shoving the small box closer to his chest while she blushed.
Bob started to carefully tear into the paper when Bradley leaned across Bob and asked, "I'm sorry, Nova, but did you just call Bob hot?"
"Yes," she replied immediately.
Bradley stood and grunted while he put on the hat that Javy just gave him that said 100% Certified Fuckboy. "She picked Bob. Nice work man," he said, patting Bob's shoulder. "Who needs a beer?"
"I do," Nat told him as she eyed Bob and Nova together on the couch with curiosity. Bob wasn't sure what he should even say to her. It wasn't like he was going to date her sister or something. She lived in New York.
"Open it," Nova whispered. "Just open it so I can get my embarrassment over with."
Bob couldn't believe she seemed more embarrassed about the gift than she did about announcing to the room at large that she found him attractive. When he took the lid off the box and looked inside, it was filled with a set of sky blue dice.
"I'm sorry," she said with a laugh. "Nat said you play Dungeons and Dragons, and I found the dice and thought they were pretty, and now I'm noticing that they're kind of the same shade as your eyes." She took the box from him, put the lid on and set it aside.
"Wait," he said, reaching across her to pick it up again. "I do play. And light blue is my favorite color. How did you know?"
"I didn't," she said, cheeks pink. "It's my favorite color, too."
He could see her freckles again as she grinned so close to him. Bob suddenly realized that the living room was getting loud as he held the box between his body and hers. "Thank you. I really like them. I was a little afraid to see what the guys were going to buy for me, so I'm glad it was from you."
"Nat dropped down on the couch on the other side of Bob as she spun the keychain around her finger that Bob got for her. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek as the airplane charm hit her palm. The guys were spinning as many dreidels on the coffee table as they could while fighting over the mound of chocolate candy coins. "You know, if it's a little too loud, you could always step outside for a minute," she told him, patting his thigh before joining the guys.
"Let's take a break," Nova said as she stood and pulled him to his feet. Bob felt like Nat had just given him some sort of permission. But for what? "I could use a break as well. It's hot in here."
She opened the front door and slipped out into the darkness on the small porch, and Bob joined her, closing the door and stifling the sounds inside. "Aren't your feet going to get cold?" he asked softly, looking down at her neon toenails.
"Good call," she replied before wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tops of his shoes. Bob's hands went to the soft curve of her waist immediately, startled by the sudden turn of events that had Nova's body pressed to his. "Is this okay?" she asked casually, looking up at him as she let her fingers trail down his neck.
His body was throbbing in delight as his brain cried out in terror. "Y-Yes. It's... very okay. You're very pretty." His eyes went wide as she laughed, and it sounded too intimate this close. He could feel her bare skin against his fingertips, and it was so soft. Softer than anything. He couldn't help the way he let his palms spread out on her back, as he blurted out, "I like you."
He noticed her soft smile first, and then her eyes closed. Bob was admiring how her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she said, "I like you, too." And then she kissed him. She just kissed him. It was suddenly time for kissing. And then it was over before Bob really got to enjoy it. Nova was looking up at him like she was trying to gauge his reaction, but he just stood there trying to figure out what to do next.
Her fingers stilled on his neck before she released him and tried to step away, her face falling into a much shyer look. But he kept his hands on her back. Her lips were softly parted, and Bob wanted them on his again. Even though he wasn't quite sure if he was doing any of it right, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers a little too hard at first.
She moaned softly as she brought her hands back up around his neck, and Bob eased himself back a little bit, making the kiss softer. This felt good. She had smooth skin and eager lips, and now her fingers were in his hair as her cheek bumped his glasses. He felt like he was getting the hang of things when she parted her lips and tasted his tongue.
Bob's hands slid down to grab at her hips through her leggings, and Nova laughed softly as she tasted him again. The soft vibrations against his lips had him more aware of his body than he ever had been before, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be making her feel excited as she wiggled her curvy hips back and forth slightly in his hands.
Nova broke the kiss and raked her fingers along his forehead and back through his tidy hair. "You smell good," she told him, leaning in close again and running her nose along his neck. "Like... something outdoorsy mixed with a fried potato."
He couldn't help but laugh as she kissed the spot next to his Adam's apple. "That sounds like it would smell bad."
"It doesn't," she reassured him with a giggle. "It just makes me want to taste you." Bob had to press his lips together and count to ten in his head as Nova ran her tongue in a slow and steady stripe up his neck to his ear. When her lips met his earlobe, his hands on her hips were pulling her body closer to his as she said, "I could eat you up."
She was still standing on the tops of his feet, but now Bob had her back pressed against the doorframe. They were making out, and it was all coming pretty naturally for him. She kissed his neck and told him something sweet, so he decided to go ahead and try the same thing. "I think I love kissing you," he said, his voice raspier than normal as she tipped her head back.
Nova was moaning his name as he kissed the front of her neck, and she pressed her thigh against him. And oh no... Bob had an erection. She didn't seem bothered, but he pulled himself a few inches away from her and looked down at her pretty face. "Do you want to go back inside?" she asked, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.
"Should we?" he asked softly, sliding his hands back up to her waist as she shrugged.
"Probably. But I'm sure they all know exactly what we're doing out here."
His eyes went wide. "They do?"
She smiled and ran her fingers along his cheek. "Yeah, I'd venture to guess they know we were making out, Bob."
How was he supposed to go back inside now? He thought about just leaving; his truck was parked right there on the street. But he didn't want to go without his new dice. Or Nova.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah... maybe we should go back in."
"Okay." But first she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips. "Just let me know if you want to take another break, because I'd be more than happy to tag along."
Then she opened the door, and the bright light and loud laughter coming from inside were enough to have him reaching for Nova's hand as she stepped down from his feet and onto the living room floor. She looked back at him with a coy smile as she laced her fingers with his. It was so obvious that they had been kissing. Bob knew he was blushing, and her lips looked a little puffy from the way he'd been enjoying them. When Jake fist bumped him as they walked past, Javy winked, and Bradley was on the couch with Nat pouting.
But Nat smiled and shook her head as Nova led Bob into the kitchen. "Want some more wine?" she asked, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator. There was something about the way she looked in the semi darkness as the candles from the menorah burned low. Her face was cast in warm light as well as shadows, and Bob found that leaning down to kiss her again was the most natural thing in the world.
The cold bottle was pressed to his arm, and she kissed him back. When Bob opened his eyes again, his glasses were crooked and two of the candles had burned out. The kitchen was even darker now as she pecked his cheek and then strolled out into the living room. He took a few seconds to consider that now he'd initiated more kisses than she had. The desire to follow her and kiss her again was so strong, he almost tripped when he thought about her going back to New York. Had he ever felt this way about a girl after a few hours? No. Absolutely not.
He knew he should have found another place to sit in Nat's tiny, loud living room, but when he saw the spot on the couch next to Nova was empty, he couldn't force his steps in any other direction. She tracked him with her eyes, clearly feeling no shame about what was happening here.
"How much have the rest of you had to drink?" she asked the guys. Jake was laying on the floor laughing while Javy tried to spin a dreidel on his nose. Bradley's cheeks were bright red, and he was half asleep at the other end of the couch. Mickey actually was asleep in the armchair. The only one who looked okay was Reuben.
"A lot," Javy said. "We turned dreidels into a drinking game, and clearly Nat is better than the rest of us." Nat winked at Nova who winked back. "And Mickey can't hold his liquor for shit."
Nova laughed at him in the armchair. "Is that a WSO thing, Bob? Or can you handle another glass of wine?" she teased.
"I can handle what you give me," he replied before he could consider how that might sound. She gasped softly and kind of nodded as she poured some more into his glass from earlier.
"I guess we'll find out."
She tapped her glass to his, and they joined in the game with the others. Bob had never played before, but he was a quick study. It certainly didn't hurt that Nova kept touching his hands as she taught him what to do. And two glasses of wine later, Bob felt lighter and more carefree. His right hand was resting on her lower back, and she leaned in to his side as the game progressed. And the best part was, Nat seemed more than okay with this.
In fact, as midnight was fast approaching, Nat stood and stretched. "I'm beat. I don't care who stays over, but Nova is in the extra bedroom, so the rest of you can fight over the couches."
Bradley and Mickey both snored in response while Reuben started to gather Jake and Javy off the floor. "I'll drop the two of you off," he said. "It was nice to meet you, Nova. Thanks, Nat."
"Thanks, Nat," Javy and Jake echoed as Nat waved. Nova blew them each a kiss.
Once they were gone, Nat started to gather up the empty wine bottles to take them into the kitchen, and Bob figured he should get ready to go as well. "Do you need help with anything?" he asked his friend, but she just waved him off. "No, I insist," he added.
He picked up some more of the trash the guys left, and as soon as he and Nova both stood, Bradley stretched out on the couch. "Just leave the rest of the mess. It's honestly fine. We can clean it up tomorrow," Nat said as she looked at her sister.
Nova nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you clean everything when we wake up."
They carried the trash they had already gathered in their arms to the kitchen, and then Nat hugged her sister before kissing Bob's cheek. "I'm assuming I'll see you again quite soon," she told him with an amused expression before she headed for the stairs.
Bob wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. Right now he had to figure out a way to say goodbye to the woman in front of him. He wondered if there was some way he could tell her that the few hours he spent with her somehow meant something to him. If she lived in San Diego, he thought he would very much like to take her to dinner. Maybe he could figure out a way to say so without completely ruining the moments they'd shared tonight.
"Nova, I-"
It was time for more kissing. She didn't hesitate at all, almost like she felt as comfortable with this as he did. Her hand found the bottom of Bob's tee shirt and eased the fabric up so her palm could rest flat on his abs. She nibbled gently on his lip before she let him taste her tongue. She was sweet like wine. Then his hands were back on her hips again as she eased his shirt up a little further.
"You had a lot to drink," she whispered with a wink, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. "Maybe you should come upstairs with me?" Bob wasn't drunk in the least, and he thought he knew what she meant. When his posture stiffened, she looked up at him. "It's just a twin bed, but we can both fit. If you want."
"You mean to... sleep?" he asked, embarrassed that he had to confirm instead of just knowing how to do things.
Her hand glided down to the top of his jeans, and she laughed softly. "We don't have to mess around," she said as she kissed his lips softly. "But I don't think I can keep my lips away from yours."
When Bob nodded in agreement, heart pounding rapidly, she took him by the hand. Mickey and Bradley were both sound asleep in the living room where Bob made sure to grab his box of dice. Then he let Nova lead him upstairs.
She looked back to smile at him a few times and tugged on his hand when he started to fall behind. Once they were in the extra bedroom with the soft lamplight and the door closed, Nova seemed a little more hesitant.
"Well, there's the twin bed," she said, gesturing toward it before putting her hands on her hips. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and laughed as she looked at the floor. "And I mean, obviously this was all a ploy to get to spend more time with you. But also, I don't think you should drive home after drinking so much wine." She paused before adding, "But mostly I just kind of thought maybe you and I could keep talking and making out."
Bob smiled when she looked up at him. "Yeah, I would like that."
She bit her lip, and Bob swore he had never in his life seen a woman who was so eager to be around him. He toed off his shoes before reaching for her hand again. And then he decided he was going to go for it. He was going to say what was on his mind as they both sat down on the edge of the bed together.
"Hey, Nova? I..." he paused as he looked at her pretty face, and he had to clear his throat before he kept going. "You're really... I like you a lot, and I just wanted you to know that if you lived in San Diego, I would ask you on a date."
She scooted a little closer and let her hand come to rest on his thigh. "Where would you take me?" she asked, pressing her lips to his jaw as he stuttered.
"I would... I'd take you to um, a restaurant that I like called Starlite. It's in the city. It's really pretty inside at night, and they have fairy lights and champagne. And I think you'd look beautiful sitting at one of the tables with me."
"Oh my god," she moaned against his jaw, and Bob had absolutely no control over how his body was reacting to her. "Tell me more."
He tried to keep talking as she moved her hand further up his thigh, but he wasn't sure he was making sense. "I'd get you whatever you wanted, of course. But the steak is really good, so I'd ask if you wanted that. And. And I'd be hoping the waiter was really slow, because you'd look so pretty with the soft lights all around you. I'd want to keep you there with me as long as I could."
"I want to go," Nova whispered, kissing his ear. "I can practically picture it."
Bob closed his eyes, willing his cock to stop having a mind of its own as her fingers went as high as the bottoms of his boxer briefs. If she kept this up, Bob would have to excuse himself, and he really didn't want to leave her right now. Then she straddled his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Bob's arms were full of her.
"I wish we could," he whispered, unsure what to do with his hands. "I'd take you there tomorrow, but Nat told me you're flying back east in the evening." He finally let his hands settle on her waist as she nodded sadly.
"I am," she said as her lips brushed his. "But just humor me. Would you kiss me at Starlite?"
"I'd have to," he replied immediately. "It would be mandatory. All the light and shadows on your face... you'd be ethereal. And if you were looking at me, I wouldn't be able to help myself."
"Bob," she moaned against his lips, nibbling on him softly as her fingers went to his hair. "And where would you take me for our second date?"
He laughed as she licked his tongue. "You'd go out with me a second time?"
"You're joking right?" Nova asked, pulling back a few inches as she played with his hair. "This is all hypothetical, and it's still the best date I've ever been on."
"Okay," Bob replied, and he couldn't help but smile as she nodded for him to go on. "For our second date, I'd take you to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater."
"What would we watch?" she asked, smiling as Bob let his hands drift up a little bit under her shirt.
He shrugged. "Probably a foreign film. You'd think it was cool, but I'd just be watching the way the colorful lights flickered across your face."
She squeaked softly. "Can we pretend we're at the theater now?"
"Sure," he whispered with a smile. "We're at the theater. You look beautiful, reading all the subtitles. But I lost track of the plot of the film already."
"Why's that?" she asked with a grin.
"Can't pay attention to anything except you."
She pushed on his chest until he was laying on his back, her long hair brushing the side of his face as she leaned down to kiss him. She was rubbing herself against his hard length through his jeans and making little sounds that he'd never heard before. His hands were stroking higher, and he could feel her bra with his fingertips. He didn't want any of this to stop.
"Now you seem like a respectable guy, Bob," she murmured. "Would you take me home with you after our second date or make me wait until our third?"
Oh no. Bob loosened his grip on her as he went silent. Nova was still kissing her way across his cheek to his ear when her movements slowed. She eyed him curiously before nudging the rim of his glasses with her nose.
"Bob?"
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I've never... taken a girl home before."
She looked down at him with a soft smile on her lips. "What?" she asked as she pushed her fingers back through his hair.
Bob was terrified that she would stop touching him as soon as he said the words. She was so lovely, gravitating right to him all night just the same way he subconsciously felt like he wanted to be near her. He already recognized that he could fall for his friend's little sister. Maybe he already had.
He took a deep breath as he adjusted his glasses. She was waiting for him to respond, and there was no point in lying about it now. "I'm a virgin."
Nova's brow creased, and her lips parted wordlessly. She examined his face, probably trying to see if he was lying, because there's no way someone his age shouldn't have lost his virginity by now. And it was a million times worse for a guy than for a girl. He knew that. It was all so very embarrassing.
She didn't laugh, rather she kissed the corner of his lips and simply asked, "How?"
Bob shrugged. "I'm awkward."
"No. You're hot," she replied, shaking her head. "That's not it."
He tried to turn his head and look away, but she followed his gaze until he returned her soft smile. "I'm not really sure," he whispered. "I got close a few times, but it just didn't seem right. That sounds dumb."
"No, it doesn't," she replied, surprising Bob as she kissed him again. "Are you picky?" she asked between each soft press of her lips to his.
"Yeah. Kind of," he told her honestly. "Always have been. Picky about who I spend time with.
She brushed her fingers back through his hair again, and Bob melted at her touch. "That makes sense. A guy like you should be picky."
Somehow Nova was making him feel a lot more normal about this as she wasn't shying away from him. "Picky," he confirmed. "And the timing was never right."
"That's important," she said with a smile. "You have to do what feels good to you."
Bob swallowed hard. He was picky, but he really liked Nova. And for some reason, tonight out of all nights kind of felt right. He could easily blame Nat's Hanukkah party and the soft glow of the menorah candles on Nova's face for getting him to this point. She was on top of him, still kissing him, and he didn't want this to end.
"This feels good to me," he blurted out, reaching up to push his fingers through her dark hair. "Tonight feels right."
She nodded, smiling as she crawled off of him, leaving Bob a little cold as he missed the feeling of her immediately. He sat up on the bed as she crawled up to the pillows and whispered, "Come here." She coaxed him along until she was laying on the pillows and he was on top of her, bracing himself with his arms so he didn't hurt her.
"Okay, so, we already went to Starlite for dinner and then to the Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. I'll give you until our third date to make your move," she whispered, grinning up at him as she ran he hands up his biceps. "Where are you taking me?"
He took a deep breath; now was not the time for this wave of confidence to falter. "Cliffs beach. I'm packing a picnic, and we can sit in the bed of my truck and watch the sunset while we eat."
Nova moaned again and hooked her leg around Bob's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. "Dinner was perfect. But now that the sun went down, I'm a little chilly."
"Well, I could keep you warm." He kissed her. "I'd hold you as I tried to work up the nerve to ask you if you wanted to come back to my place."
"I'm wrapped up in your arms, patiently waiting for you to ask," she replied with a smirk.
He nodded, and he knew he was blushing. This whole thing was kind of silly, but it just made sense. "I really like you. I could probably fall for you. If I let myself," he whispered, and she whimpered softly. "Do you want to come back to my place, Nova?"
"Absolutely."
Her hands were all over his face and in his hair, and eventually she took his glasses off and set them on the nightstand. She kissed him slowly as she rolled her hips up against his, and Bob blushed as he got hard again. When she carefully pulled his shirt off, she set it next to the pillow, and then she explored his body with her hands. But as soon as she pulled her own NYU shirt off and was laying beneath him, she arched her back.
Bob reached beneath her, and he fumbled for a few seconds before he unhooked her bra. As he pulled the black lace away from her body and looked down at her breasts and her confident face, he marked this as the furthest he'd ever gone with a woman. She seemed to sense he needed a moment as she ran her fingers through his hair as he stuttered, "You're gorgeous."
Nova looked up at him with her playful dark eyes, but right now they seemed a little more serious. "I could probably fall for you, too."
Then his lips were on hers, and his hands went to her breasts gently stroking each soft handful. He could fall for this, he was sure of it. He wanted to take her on all of those dates, and he would have if he could have. He was charmed by her, and she seemed equally interested in him.
"Bob," she moaned, breaking the kiss and tipping her head back as he pushed himself against her core. He brought his lips down to taste her breasts, and soon she was rolling her hips a little faster. "That feels good," she whispered as she looked up at him. "I like that."
Nova responded just like that to everything he did. When he kissed the side of her neck, she blushed a pretty shade of pink. She shivered for him when he ran his fingers down her side. When he paused with his hand just above the top of her leggings, she whispered, "Bob, you're making me kind of crazy."
She guided his hand down a few more inches with her own, but she didn't get annoyed when he took his time pulling her leggings and underwear off. His heart was pounding as he looked at her, completely naked. Maybe she could sense his hesitation, because she sat up, too, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'll tell you if I don't like something, okay? And you do the same?"
He nodded. "I like everything so far. I just don't want to mess this up."
"You won't," she promised, taking his face in both of her hands and kissing him softly at first. Then her lips became more demanding, and Bob wrapped one strong arm around her, pulling her on top of him. She giggled against his lips before swiping his tongue with her own.
Her fingers roamed his bare torso and found the light trail of hair below his belly button. "I'm going to take your jeans off," she whispered, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping them. Her hair was already kind of a mess, and he knew his must have been as well. But then all thoughts left his mind as she started to pull his pants down. Bob wasn't dumb; he knew he was at least average size from the amount of time he'd spent in naval locker rooms. But he was surprised by her soft gasp when she pulled his underwear down far enough that his erection sprang free. Then his jeans, socks and underwear were in a pile at the bottom of the small bed, and he was naked, too.
He grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. This was the best thing he ever felt. Until she kissed him there. "Oh god, Nova. Wait," he moaned, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't we need a condom?"
She responded by licking his length before crawling up his body to kiss his lips. "I can go ask my sister if she has any if you want to use one."
"No!" he gasped, nearly headbutting her as he sat up. "No, don't do that." Bob wasn't sure that Natasha would respond kindly to that question coming from her sister. "Please don't."
But Nova was all smiles as she straddled his waist. "Okay," she whispered as he braced himself with his hand behind him on the bed. "I won't alert Natasha to the fact that we're about to have sex."
Bob sighed in relief and reached out to push her hair behind her ear. "Actually, if you could not mention her again right now, that would be great."
Now she was laughing softly as she scooted up until Bob could feel her wet pussy rubbing his cock. "Promise," she confirmed as he looked up at her face. When he glanced down between them, all he could see was her perfect body and his cock jumping against her in excitement. "I'm on birth control anyway," she whispered, kissing along his jaw. "And I know you're a little nervous, but so am I."
"Why?" he asked, surprised by her words.
Nova hummed as she kissed her way back to his lips. "I want this to feel good for you." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she slowly rolled her hips against him and made the softest sounds. His heart rate picked up as she added, "I want you to think about our hypothetical dates after I'm gone."
He was sure he would be thinking about Nova for a very long time. She was all gentle fingers in his hair and confident smiles. She was beautiful, and Bob could easily get addicted to this.
She guided him to lay back on the pillows as she asked, "You ready?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded hoarse as he looked up at her and pushed her hair over one shoulder. When he let his hands trail over the soft skin of her shoulders, breasts and sides, she shivered as she kissed him. Bob could feel her hand around his length, and then his head tipped away from her as he moaned. "Does that feel good?"
Good. That didn't seem like the right word for it, but now his brain felt a little hazy. Nova's lips ghosted over his as he moaned again. She felt tight and inviting, and when she rolled her hips with him inside her like this, Bob gripped her hip a little tighter. His other hand ended up tangled in her hair as he traced her freckled cheek with his thumb. "Nova," he gasped against her lips before devouring her.
Her soft noises got a little louder, and each roll of her hips had Bob praying that this would never end. Every passing second was better than the last. Every time she whispered his name and tasted his tongue was too exciting. When she ended up on her back, looking up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he kissed her neck and pushed himself deep inside her.
"Oh," she moaned, and he had to slowly shake his head to keep his focus. Her leg was hooked up around his hip, and he was suddenly very aware that he didn't know how to make her orgasm.
"Nova?" he gasped as she reached for his hand. But he should have known she'd be willing to help him with this as she showed him where and how to rub her.
"Fuck," she whined, taking a few gasping breaths. "That feels so good." He kept moving his hips, too, and a few seconds later, as she was nibbling on his lip and whining, he felt her squeezing around him. "Bob. Bob. Bob!"
Her back was arched off the bed, and her breasts bounced with every wild breath she took, and then he had no idea it would all happen so fast for him. He tucked his face against her neck and shoulder as he bucked into her without finesse. He couldn't control it. He came so hard, his vision looked like a kaleidoscope of colors when he opened his eyes. But she was right there, and she was perfect.
He half collapsed against her chest as she played with his hair, and it felt like it might have been a long time before he moved. Bob wrapped his arms a little tighter around her, and even though he thought he should feel timid, he didn't. He felt so relaxed and almost loved as she touched him like this. When he tipped his face up to look at her, she was smiling.
He was picky, and the timing never felt right before now. But Nova was lovely, and tonight was the right night. "My Hanukkah wish is to go on all of those dates with you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes as she blushed. "And see how pretty you'd look with the sun setting and all the fairy lights."
She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips. "I wish we could."
As she laced her fingers with his, Bob whispered, "Maybe we can trade phone numbers? And talk until you get tired of me."
She nodded and asked, "And what if I don't ever get tired of you?"
Bob studied her face as she ran her fingers through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder. "Then we'll go on the dates for real."
Eventually they fell asleep around four in the morning after talking and having sex again. When Bob woke up at nine, it was to Nova's lips on his neck and her voice in his ear. "Morning, Bob."
He just held her a little tighter. When they went downstairs, nobody was surprised they'd spent the night together, not even Nat. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and he ended up staying all day, even after Bradley and Mickey both left. He just wanted to be around Nova for as long as possible, but eventually he had to leave so her sister could take her to the airport. So she could go back to New York.
"I'll miss you," she promised when she walked him out to his truck. She took his phone and saved her number for him.
"Should I text you now? So you have mine, too?"
She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "Fair warning, once you text me, I'll write back and probably never stop."
Bob laughed softly and quickly typed up a text to her while she kissed his neck.
I miss you already, and I didn't even leave yet.
Then he kissed her back until her sister started yelling out the front door about going to the airport. "Bye, Bob," Nova whispered before kissing his cheek and bounding back in the house. As he drove away, his phone lit up in the cup holder with a series of texts from her, and he hoped she was telling the truth when she said she wouldn't stop.
----------------------------
Five months later...
"Are you really this nervous to see her again?" Natasha asked him as they walked through JFK airport together. "You've talked to her everyday for months. Hell, you flew out to see her for a weekend in March."
Bob blushed as he thought about those three days when he'd been here during a late winter snowstorm that kept him and Nova inside her apartment for most of the weekend. She'd hardly let him out of her bed. And while they weren't dating, not exactly, Bob knew he wanted to be.
"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. She has no idea I'm here for her graduation. Do you know how hard it was to lie to her?"
Nat laughed as they walked outside in the May sunlight to get a cab to Nova's apartment. Bob was slightly afraid she'd be upset when they got there. Or maybe there would be evidence of another guy. It might break his heart, but he'd have to accept it. But he just couldn't get past that night they spent together during Hanukkah, and he'd been falling in love with her since then. Even over the phone.
"I'm sure she'll be happier to see you than me," Nat told him. It seemed like no time passed at all before they were pulling up to the building he'd only seen once when it was surrounded by a layer of snow.
He got out of the cab and stood awkwardly on the sidewalk as Natasha got her phone out. She looked up at him with a smile as she called her sister. "I'm here," she said before looking at the blank screen. "She screamed and then hung up."
Bob laughed nervously with his backpack on and Nat's hand rubbing his arm in a soothing circle. "If she's not excited to see me, I'll just get a hotel room or try to exchange my ticket for something earlier," he mumbled.
But the next thing he knew, Nova was throwing open the door to her building. She barely looked at her sister before she gasped, "Bob!" and launched herself down the stairs and into his arms.
"Hi," he whispered as she clung to the front of him and shamelessly kissed his lips and neck right in front of her sister. "I missed you."
She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him as she let her cheek rest on his chest. "You brought me Bob? Is he my graduation present?" she asked Natasha as Bob ran his fingers through her hair and chuckled.
"Something like that," she replied, reaching for the key that was still in Nova's hand. "I'll meet the two of you inside."
As Nat let herself in the building, Nova looked up at him. "You lied to me. You said you had to work this weekend."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll never do it again." She was melting into his touch as he cleared his throat and added, "I know you're still going on interviews and trying to decide on a job, but I took next week off just in case I could persuade you to come back to San Diego for a bit."
She smiled. "Now why would I want to do that?"
Bob shrugged. "I just really think we should go on those three dates before I ask you to be my girlfriend."
"Starlite. Mission Hills Rooftop Theater. Cliffs beach," she said softly.
"In that order," he confirmed. "But I'd be taking you home with me after each one."
"Then yes."
---------------------------
Happy Holidays! I'll be thinking about Bob and Nova through the New Year. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @ryebecca
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Hands to Yourself - Bob
Pairing: Bob / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.7k
This work, all my works, and my blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; Touchiness; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Physical Description, No Y/N
Summary: Bob can't keep his hands to himself after he finds out his wife is pregnant.
Master List
It was impossible to tell just looking at you, but you were just around eight weeks pregnant. And the only people on the planet who knew were you, your doctor, and your husband Bob. And frankly you wanted to keep it that way for now. It just felt that much more special to hold that news.
The only problem? Your husband.
Bob wasn’t huge on PDA, but ever since you found out that you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You would just be standing there and he would come up and rest his hands on your belly as he asked you about your day. If he stopped just a little too harshly while driving, he dropped his hand down to your belly just in case. If you were simply chatting with friends, he would slowly wrap his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your belly.
And you didn’t mind his sudden touchiness. You loved your husband and you might have had a slight personal obsession with his hands for most of your relationship. And you were more than thrilled that he was excited to be a dad and was very much there to support you.
But you didn’t want to give the secret away. Not yet.
Standing with the Dagger Squad and their significant others, you chatted with Phoenix as Bob returned with your ginger ale. You thanked him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to your conversation with Phoenix. And before you could even finish your sentence, you felt Bob’s hand snaking around to rest on your belly and pull you subtly back against his chest.
“Can’t let her get too far from you,” Phoenix joked to her backseater, who shrugged in response. “Afraid she might run off?”
“Just love my wife, Phoenix. That a crime?”
“Not at all,” Phoenix drawled, glancing between the two of you suspiciously as she sipped at her beer. “Just an observation.”
Phoenix walked off, being called in to referee some stupid argument between Hangman and Rooster, leaving you and Bob alone. Threading your fingers through his own, you turned and slowly slipped his hand off of your belly.
“You’re going to give it away, Bobby,” you whined playfully, causing Bob to grin at you.
“I’m sorry, darling. It’s just instinct.”
“Just a few more weeks, okay?” you promised, resting your hand on your husband’s chest. “And then you can scream it to the world as loud as you want.”
“I plan on it,” Bob assured you, causing you to smile and press a kiss to his lips.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. And you two,” Bob replied with a wink, causing you to shake your head playfully.
“Am I going to have to listen to terrible dad jokes for the rest of my life now?”
“Small price to pay,” Bob stated, pressing a kiss to your head.
The rest of the night wound down and you and Bob eventually moved to make your exit. Walking inside to the bar, you moved to pay your tab. While you chatted with Penny, Bob came up from behind you and wrapped his hand around, resting it directly on your non-existent bump. He pressed a kiss to your head and told you he had to grab something for Fanboy before walking off.
And when you turned back to Penny, you shrunk a bit at her knowing expression.
“Please don’t tell anyone. It’s still early,” you pleaded, causing her to smile a bit wider.
“Tell anyone what?”
“Thank you,” you breathed out, waving goodbye to Penny before moving to locate your husband. The two of you walked back to the car and within seconds, Bob’s hand was planted firmly on your belly once again, causing you to nudge him in the side. “Penny knows.”
“Knows what?” Bob asked innocently, causing you to shoot him a look. Placing your hand over his own, you motioned with your head down towards your belly, causing Bob to smile a bit sheepishly. “I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t help myself.”
“I know, Bobby. It’s okay.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Bob promised, pressing a kiss to your head.
“Yeah?” you replied, grinning up at your husband. “How?”
“I think the usual options will do,” Bob returned with a wink as the two of you reached the car. Pressing a kiss to your lips, Bob reached over and grabbed the door for you. “Take your pick.”
“Oh, I will,” you mused, slipping into the car.
A.N. Why did I pick Bob for the whole hands idea? No reason. None at all.
Okay maybe there was a reason.
#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun#tgm#tgm fanfiction#robert bob floyd#bob x you#bob x reader#bob floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fic#bob fluff
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More Than Enough [Bob Floyd x Reader]
A Single Dad Bob Fic
Summary: The first two times Bob Floyd ends up in your emergency room he’s a mess. You never expected him to return a third time. But when he does, it changes everything.
Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC
Warnings: Medical setting, blood and needles, cursing
Word count: 4.4K
Bob Floyd masterlist here
“We’ve got another one.”
You sighed, lifting the hair from the back of your neck and fanning it before clipping your hair up and straightening your scrubs. “Be there in a second, Liz.”
Your charge nurse nodded, waddling away from the desk and you pushed back from your chair, wandering down the hall, knocking lightly before walking through the door on the right.
“Hi,” you said, grabbing the chart from the folder on the wall and stepping further into the room. “I’m Y/N, I’ll be your nurse today.”
“Hi.” You looked up. His voice was deep and gravely and insanely sexy despite the fluorescent lights of the ER and the sterile aesthetics of the triage room. The patient on the bed had sandy blond hair that was combed back neatly and a pair of wire glasses that slid down his pert nose. His pink lips were curled up in a delicate, shy smile, large hands spread out on either side of his body. “How are you?”
You laughed, skimming the clipboard chart one more time before setting it down near the sink. “Better than you, Mr. Floyd, by the looks of it. Says here you have a hook in your foot.”
The man nodded, lifting his left leg and you saw it immediately: an old fishing hook sunken into the flesh toward his ankle. You grimaced while putting on a pair of gloves.
“And how did this happen?”
“Playing football on the beach,” he said as you poked at the skin around the hook. “Just stepped somewhere I shouldn’t have, apparently.”
You nodded. “Well, Mr. Floyd–”
“Bob,” he said.
You smiled. “Bob. I’m going to give you a shot for tetanus. We’re not sure where this hook has been, so better safe than sorry.”
Bob winced as he watched you dip the syringe into the glass vial of medicine.
You sat down on the rolling stool and reached out, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt from his upper arm, rubbing a circle spot with an alcohol swab. “So beach football. That sounds fun.”
“I, um, I play with my team.” Bob closed his eyes as you slid the needle into his skin, pressing the depressor slowly.
When you pulled it out, covering it with a fresh cotton ball, reaching for a band-aid, he kept his eyes closed. You patted his arm softly. “Mr. Floyd, you’re doing just fine.”
His eyes shot open and he smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m a major wuss when it comes to needles.”
“Most people are,” you said, examining his foot. “What kind of team? Like a rec league?”
“Oh, no,” Bob said as you cleaned around the entrance of the metal hook on his foot. “My squadron. I’m in the Navy.”
“Really?” You pressed down on the top of his foot, looking up at Bob. He caught your eye.
He nodded. “Aviator, ma’am.”
“What’s that like?” you asked. Just as Bob opened his mouth to reply, you yanked on the hook, eliciting a sharp grunt from him. You shook your head with a sad smile. “Sorry, better not to see it coming.”
“Think you’re right about that,” Bob said, his voice a little higher than before.
You smiled sweetly up at him, pressing against the wound with cotton to stop the bleeding. Bob laid back against the bed, looking a little more pale than before. “Mr. Floyd?”
“Bob,” he gasped.
“Bob,” you repeated. “Are you feeling dizzy?”
“Not a fan of blood, either,” he muttered and you looked down to see that blood had soaked through the cotton you were holding. You quickly switched it out.
“Lay back for me,” you said softly, “and close your eyes.” Bob did as he was told and you wrapped his foot gently once the blood had stopped flowing from the wound. You ran the sink with cold water, dampening a towel and folding it up, placing it gently on Bob’s forehead. He sighed audibly. “There. Just try to relax, OK?”
He chuckled. “Not a very good first impression, huh?”
You smiled even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ve had worse.”
Just as you were about to open your mouth and ask about his personal life, the door swung open and a beautiful brunette entered the room with a little girl on her hip. Your heart sank in your chest as she set the toddler down and watched as the toddler rushed to the bed. “Daddy!”
Bob’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled brightly. “Hi Sugar.”
“She insisted we follow you,” the brunette said. She was gloriously tan and chiseled, wearing just a black sports bra and a pair of small athletic shorts. She turned to you with a grin. “How’s our boy doing?”
“He’ll be just fine,” you said, trying your hardest not to be jealous of this perfectly kind stranger who just happened to be the wife of your patient. But you also wanted to claw her eyes out and claim him as your own.
“Daddy, you fainted.” The little girl had her hands on the sheets where she could reach and Bob leaned over, trying to scoop her up, but couldn’t quite reach her.
“Here.” You crouched down next to the little girl. “Want me to help you get on your daddy’s bed?”
She nodded enthusiastically and you smiled, lifting under her arms, plopping her against the sheets and Bob’s waiting arms. You watched as Bob enveloped her in his embrace, veins and muscles on his arms rippling as he held her tight.
The brunette cleared her throat. “Floyd, I can take Andie home, depending on how long you’ll be here?”
Bob turned to you. “Y/N?” he asked and you liked the way he said your name instead of nurse or hey you or even ma’am. “How long do you think?”
“I just want to keep you here another fifteen minutes or so, make sure you’re reacting OK to the vaccination and you’re no longer a fainting threat, and then we can get your discharge papers completed. Won’t be more than an hour.”
Bob nodded. “I’ll take her home, Nix, don’t worry about it.”
The brunette put one hand on her hip. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. You want to stay with me, Sugar? Or do you want Auntie Phoenix to take you home?”
Andie clung to Bob’s side. “I want to stay with you, daddy!”
You caught the auntie part of the conversation. As you swapped out his gauze for a bandage you looked quickly.
No wedding ring.
Things were looking up. You smiled as the brunette leaned over, kissing the top of Andie’s head. “OK sweetheart, you can stay with your daddy. Floyd, I’ll check on you later. Bradshaw will drive you home, OK? He’s in the waiting room.”
Bob nodded. “Thanks. Tell him we’ll be out soon.” Bob turned to you as Andie settled in his arms, her gaze already on the TV in the corner. “Sorry, that’s my pilot, Natasha.”
“She’s pretty.”
Bob flushed. “I, um, I was going to say the same thing about you.”
You loved that he was flustered. In his arms, Andie stirred. “Daddy? How much longer?”
“Just a little bit, honey,” he said. “Do you want to wait with Uncle Bradley?”
She shook her head. “No, daddy, want to be with you!”
“OK Sugar,” he said, looking up at you sheepishly. “Sorry, she’s three and a little antsy.”
You waved one hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. She’s adorable.” You finished your note on his chart. “Well, Mr. Floyd, you’re going to be just fine. In about fifteen minutes, the floor nurse will come in and get you the discharge papers and you two will be free to go.”
Just as you were about to turn on your heel, Bob’s voice caught you. “Y/N?”
You turned. “Yes?”
He looked down at Andie’s blonde head and then back up at you and sighed. “Um, thanks. For everything.”
You smiled but it was thin. “Of course, it’s my job.” You waved. “Bye sweetheart.”
“Bye!” Andie’s sugary voice rang out in the sterile room.
You turned on one heel, flattening yourself to the hallway after shutting the door, letting out a breath. For a moment, you had thought he was going to ask you out. But of course he wasn’t. Who were you kidding? A gorgeous pilot with a daughter? He was surely off the market, even if he wasn’t wearing a ring.
You opened your eyes just in time to see an incredibly beefy guy slide down the hallway, his brown eyes landing on yours. He grinned, white teeth, slightly crooked smile. Fuck, he was beautiful, too. What was going on?
“Hi,” he said, stopping in front of you. “I, uh, I’m looking for Bob Floyd’s room?”
You hooked a thumb to your left. “Right there,” you said.
He grinned. “Thanks.” He didn’t make a move to leave.
You pushed yourself off of the wall and nodded. “Anytime.”
The mustache man followed you with your eyes as you walked away from the room, as far as you could get from the tiny little corner of the hospital that was inhabited by the most beautiful people you had ever laid eyes on within a ten minute span.
Back at the nurse’s station, you collapsed into your chair.
“I know that look,” Liz said, eyebrow raised.
“What look?”
She shook her head, grabbing for her water bottle. “Watch out, sweetie. There’s only one reason you could possibly look like that?”
“And how do I look?”
“Fucked.”
***
You hadn’t been able to get Bob Floyd out of your head. That’s why, two weeks later, when he rushed into the ER in the middle of the night, you blinked rapidly, convinced that the night shift was melding with your subconscious somehow.
“Hello?” he called out into the hallway and you rushed forward, noticing that he had Andie in his arms, her face pink with anguish. “She won’t stop crying and throwing up and oh my God, I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Put her down here,” you said, leading them to a bed and drawing the drapes tightly. Andie rolled onto her side, clutching her abdomen. “Hi honey. I’m just going to take a look at your belly, OK?” She nodded, but continued to cry as you lifted up the hem of her pajama top, touching her distended belly gently as she cried out. You looked up at Bob. “It’s most likely appendicitis but we’ll need a CT scan to confirm.”
Bob ran a hand through his hair. He looked much more disheveled this time and you almost wanted to sling an arm around him, pull him into a hug. He looked like he needed it.
“Let me call down to radiology, we should be able to get her in immediately.”
You stepped toward the phone on the wall, speaking quickly, eyes on Bob as he hovered near Andie’s bed, whispering softly in her ear.
“Another nurse will come and take her down in a minute,” you said gently.
Bob looked up. “Can I go with?”
You shook your head and his face fell. “I’m sorry. But you’ll get to see her before she goes into surgery.”
“Is there anything you can give her for the pain?” he pleaded. “I just, I don't know what to do.”
You nodded. “We’ll give her some medicine before the procedure and after.”
A knock on the door stole both of your attention. “Mr. Floyd? I’m here to take Andie down to radiology.” A short nurse with her hair tied back smiled at the door. “Are we all set?”
“Yes.” You looked at Bob and Andie. “It’ll only be twenty minutes, I promise.”
He nodded, leaning over and kissing Andie’s head. “I’ll be right here, baby, I promise. Be good for me, Sugar.”
“Daddy!” she cried and you saw how it gutted him.
He swallowed the pain. “It’s OK, honey. You’ll feel better soon.”
And then they were wheeling Andie’s bed out of the room and Bob collapsed onto the chair near the wall, head in his hands. You waited a moment before walking over, squatting down and pressing one hand to his knee gently. “Hey. She’s going to be OK, I promise.”
Bob looked up and you saw tears in his blue eyes. He wiped at them. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing scarier as a parent than rushing your kid to the ER in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you said softly. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Do you have kids?”
You shook your head. “I don’t.”
Bob sighed. “I never thought I wanted kids,” he whispered, like a confession. “And then Andie came along and she changed everything.” He paused. “She’s my entire world. I can’t explain how helpless I feel watching her in pain knowing it’s out of my control.”
Your hand was still pressed against his knee. “She’s going to be alright,” you said. “I promise, nothing bad is going to happen.”
“Thank you.” The two of you hovered there for a moment, eyes locked on each other. And then the door swung open and you stood up quickly.
“It’s a ruptured appy,” the nurse said. “We’re taking her down to OR two.”
“You have to let him talk to her first,” you said and Bob looked at you, surprised. “He has to tell her it’s going to be OK. She’s scared.”
The nurse nodded hastily. “Fine, but do it quickly. Dr. Roberts is already scrubbing in.”
The three of you trailed down the hallway to where Andie laid in a bed near the elevator, another nurse speaking with her quietly. Her eyes flicked to Bob immediately, widening with recognition and comfort. He reached out, stroking her hair. “Hi Sugar,” he whispered and you could hear in the pits of his voice how much he was holding back. “Listen, the doctors are going to make you better and when you’re done with your nap, I’ll be waiting for you.”
“With a toy?” she asked, her voice light and soft.
Bob smiled. “Yeah, honey, with a toy.”
“Promise, daddy?”
Bob nodded. “I promise. Be right here when you’re done, OK?”
Andie smiled and Bob pressed a kiss to her forehead before she was wheeled down the corridor, through the double doors at the end of the hallway. He turned to you with sad, wide eyes. You were an ER nurse – technically, you needed to hand over Andie as your patient to the surgical team. You would go to the nurses station and finish the chart, have it signed off by the attendings who completed her surgery after it was done. But something about the frazzled way that Bob looked and how his leg had felt beneath your palm made you throw everything else to the side.
“Come on,” you said, putting one hand on his arm gently. “Let’s get a coffee. It’ll be an hour or two.”
He frowned. “You don’t need to see more patients?”
You shrugged. It was three in the morning on a Tuesday. Only one bed was filled. “It’s quiet. They’ll cover for me.”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded. You didn’t want him to be alone. “Besides, I know where the good coffee is.”
That’s how you and Bob ended up on the third floor doctor’s lounge sipping out of mismatched mugs, the sun still asleep beneath the blanket of the horizon.
“So a pilot, huh?” you asked. “That must be exciting.”
Bob smiled but it was quick. Tight. “Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee and looked up. “Actually, can I tell you the truth?”
“Of course.”
“People always say that and I always respond the same. Yeah, it’s exciting. Yeah, it’s cool. But the truth is, it’s fucking terrifying. Going up in jets every day not knowing if I’m going to be able to pick my daughter up from daycare later or not.”
“So why do you do it?”
“Only thing I’ve ever been good at,” he replied.
“That can’t be true.” Your eyes wandered over Bob’s strong hands, the way the coffee mug was engulfed by them. The wire glasses slipping down his nose. The way he carried himself. Like he was too much of a burden to compete for space in the room, even though there was no one in there besides the two of you.
“Being a dad,” he said softly. “I’m good at that. I think.”
“You are.” He lit up. “The way Andie looks at you? You’re her hero.”
Bob put his coffee cup down. “You’re just saying that.”
“You don’t know me,” you said, “but I don’t really make a habit of lying just to make people feel good about themselves.”
He laughed. “So that’s why you became a nurse, huh?”
“That and an oppressive need for academic validation. Plus I look cute in the uniform.”
Bob smiled at you. “True.”
You blushed. In the dim light of the lounge, you could see Bob’s profile and he was even more beautiful than you had made him to be in your head. “So, Andie’s mom?”
He shook his head. “She’s not in the picture.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I am, too,” he said quietly. “For Andie, not for me. We were never good together. Right now, I’m just trying to be enough. I’m doing everything I can, but I know that one day she’s going to grow up. And I am going to be useless when she comes home asking me to buy her a miniskirt or what dress to wear to prom or how to put her hair in French braids for some costume party.” He smiled at you sadly. “I just know that I won’t be enough.”
“The fact that you’re already thinking of that tells me you’re more than enough,” you replied. “She’s lucky. And I’m not just saying that.”
Bob chuckled lightly. His voice was deep and silky. “Do you give all your patient’s parents the VIP treatment?”
“Nope,” you said, setting down your coffee cup and turning to where he sat in the leather chair next to you. “You’re special.”
“Oh yeah?” Bob murmured, leaning forward over the arm of his chair, his face dangerously close to yours. “Why is that?”
“Because–” Just then, your pager beeped. You leaned back and pulled it off your waistband. “It’s Andie’s surgery. She’s in recovery.”
Bob jumped up, cheeks flushed. “And?”
You smiled. “No warnings. It must have gone perfectly.”
“Oh, thank God.” The relief coming from his voice could sooth a thousand wounds.
You grinned. “I’ll take you down to her room.”
As you turned to head out toward the hallway, Bob stopped you, his hand on your wrist, fingers circling yours. “Y/N, I–”
“I know,” you said softly, letting his hand slide into your own. “We should go, Andie’s waiting.”
You understood what people meant when they said their ovaries were going to explode the second you saw Andie and Bob reunite in the post-op room. Her tiny face lit up as she watched Bob walk through the door, her little arms reaching for him instinctively. The way he cradled her head to his chest, patting her back softly, kissing her temple. There was a warmth spilling out into the room, radiating off of the two of them like an aura. You stood in the doorway as the sun crawled over the horizon and watched father and daughter reunite.
After a while, you stepped up to the bed. “Hi sweetheart, heard you did great in there,” you said softly and Andie beamed. “I’m going to let you and your daddy get some rest, OK? Someone will be back in a bit to check on you.”
“Bye!” Her small voice was like a thousand little violins.
Bob turned to you, one hand still touching Andie, making sure she was there. She was safe. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said quietly. “Is this the end of your shift?”
You checked your watch. It was six thirty. You had been off for thirty minutes. “Yeah, it is.”
“I, um.” He looked down at Andie, her baby blue eyes tracking him. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow if we’re still here.”
You smiled. “You two will be released by then, I’m sure.”
“Oh.” There was something dejected about the way he said it. You shuffled from foot to foot. “It was nice seeing you again. Bob.” The way his name felt on your tongue. It was fuzzy and soft and you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could.
“You too, Y/N,” he said softly.
You turned, heading for the door, before spinning back around, digging in your pocket, pulling out a tiny stuffed penguin on a keychain. Your niece had given it to you a few months ago for your thirty-first birthday and you had almost forgotten it was still in your pocket from where you had scooped it up earlier after it fell out of your bag onto the locker room floor as you were rushing for a code. “Bob,” you said quietly and he turned, eyes bright. You slipped the toy into his hand quietly so Andie wouldn’t see. He looked down then back up in surprise. You grinned. “You promised her a toy, remember?”
His fingers lingered over yours before finally you pulled away, the heat of Bob’s stare warming you from your core like lava. “Thank you.”
You smiled. “Bye again.”
This time you did leave, your chest tight as you shut the door softly, turning down the hallway, putting as much space between you and Bob Floyd as you could. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you’d embarrass yourself. You’d run back into the room and beg him to take you out. To kiss you. To talk to you with a fraction of the love that he spoke to Andie with. That would be enough.
It would be more than enough.
***
It was the end of a long day. You sat down at the nurse’s station with a sigh, kicking your feet up on the desk, closing your eyes. Only a few seconds passed before someone was tapping your shoulder incessantly.
Your eyes snapped open and you groaned. “What?”
“You’re going to want to see this,” Kirsten said. She had one hand on her hip, head tipped toward the lobby area.
“Bloody?” you asked excitedly.
She shook her head. “You’re nasty. No, it’s better.”
“If it’s not a bloody accident I don’t want it.”
Kirsten rolled her eyes. “It’s better so just shut up, put a smile on that face and maybe puff out your boobs a little, you’re looking saggy.”
“What?”
She laughed as you stood up, fiddling with your scrub top, frowning as Kirsten pushed you around the corner toward the lobby doors. You stopped dead in your tracks.
Bob Floyd stood in the atrium of the hospital, still wearing his green flight suit, blond hair perfectly combed back, wire glasses slightly askew. He had a bouquet of pink roses in his hands and a brilliant white smile when he spotted you.
“Hi.” His voice wobbled a bit as you approached.
“Hi back,” you said quietly. “I hope those are for me,” you said, gesturing to the flowers, “because you really need to stop showing up with emergencies, Bob Floyd.”
He laughed, a throaty sound that eclipsed all other laughs in your memory. Now, anytime you ever thought of a laugh it would be like what Bob Floyd sounded like on a random Thursday evening. “Well it is the ER. Besides, how else would I be able to see you?”
“You'd see me if you ever asked me on a date.”
Bob flushed. “Well, that’s why I’m here.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded, thrusting the flowers out to you. “I, um, I wanted to ask you out the first time we met. But that didn’t really turn out like I planned. Practically fainting in front of you wasn’t what I had in mind.”
You smelled the flowers. They were clean and crisp and you couldn’t remember the last time a man bought you flowers, let alone went out of his way to see you. You stepped closer. “It was kind of charming,” you admitted.
Bob laughed again, that sweet chuckle that was quickly imprinting itself in your mind. “I’ll take it. So what do you say, will you go on a date with me?”
“I don’t know, what can beat stale coffee in a doctor’s break room?”
“What if I cook you dinner?” Bob offered and your eyebrows shot up. “What’s your favorite dish?”
“Eggplant parmesan,” you said automatically. It tumbled out of your mouth.
“Done.”
“So you can cook?”
“No,” he said and you laughed. “But I can Google it.”
“You’d go to all that trouble just for me?”
Bob stepped in closer, reaching out one hand, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear. His touch was warm and it practically electrocuted you with the fervor that started to course through your veins as his skin brushed against yours. Bob let his hand linger on the side of your neck, cupping you gently. “It’s no trouble,” he murmured. “Besides, Andie keeps asking about the pretty nurse who gave her the penguin doll.”
You grinned. “Did she like it?”
“She sleeps with it every night. But apparently, Mr. Penguin has requested that you come by the house to read him a bedtime story. So what do you say? Dinner and a book reading?” he asked.
You locked eyes with Bob, nodding. “Is it weird to say I’m glad you got a hook in your foot and ended up in my ER?”
Bob chuckled. “Is it weird to say I’d do it again every day if it meant I got to see you?”
“Honey,” you whispered. “No need to stab your foot again. I’ll be at dinner any night of the week. Just say the word.”
He held out one hand. You slipped your fingers into his. It was enough. It was more than enough.
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Springtime with Bob ♡
#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader#bob floyd x reader#bob x reader#bob x y/n#bob fluff#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob top gun#top gun moodboard#top gun x y/n#top gun x you#top gun maverick x you#top gun maverick moodboard
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Christmas Gift | Robert 'Bob' Floyd
Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Teacher!Wife!Reader
Summary: Bob gets the most special christmas gift ever.
Word count: 1215
Warnings: fluff. BOB. Bob should be a warning. BUT I'M SAYING BOB IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. baby on board
Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74 @smells-like-perfect-senses
(if you want to be in the 'All TGM' tag list, send me an ask!)
A/N: Is this an attempt to stop y'all from suing me? yes. Hope you like it!
“How is the wife doing, Bob?” Hangman asks while walking to the parking lot.
“I don’t know. She woke up sick this morning. Perhaps the sushi we had last night was spoiled,” Bob answers, checking his phone to see if there was any message from you, but you haven’t talked to him all day.
“Oh, damn. If you need us to raincheck the Secret Santa party, call me.” He says while patting Bob’s back.
“I’ll ask her when I get home and I’ll text you”
“Sure. Say hi to Bobette for me”
Bob nods, walking to the car and dialing his wife’s number.
“Robby?”
"Hey, Mrs. Floyd. How are you feeling?” He asks, opening the car door and sitting inside. “If you’re still sick I can take you to the doctor”
'Honey, I'm fine. I think it was the sushi,” you reply quickly, trying to stop his worry. “I was just about to jump in the shower and get ready for the party”
“And you were gonna shower without me? Miss, do I need to remind you that we need to save the planet and use water wisely?” He can almost hear your smile from the other end of the line.
“You have fifteen minutes to come home,” you challenge him, and Bob smirks.
“Make it ten”
One shower and a few hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd are walking hand in hand towards Hangman and Coyote’s house. A few weeks ago, both of them brought up the idea of celebrating Christmas with the squad. Of course, that included you as an honorary member of the squad through marriage. There were rumors of an upcoming mission that will happen during the holidays, so Coyote thought that they could celebrate some Secret Santa and exchange gifts two weeks before Christmas instead of doing it on Christmas Eve.
Today is the day.
You have been a bit worried about your gift for the past few weeks, not knowing what you should give them. But then, a few days ago, the answer came to you unexpectedly.
Coyote opens the door, smiling at the sight. “Look at you, my favorite married couple.” He hugs you tight. “If you two ever get a divorce I’ll stop believing in love”
“Javy, why are you talking about divorces?” Phoenix asks from behind him. She pushes the pilot away and pulls you close to hug you tightly. “Look at you, you’re beautiful! Are you using a new highlighter or something?"
You look at her with a puzzled expression. “Uh… no? Why?”
“You’re literally glowing.” she adds.
“I just got out of the shower, Nat. I’m not even wearing much makeup”
“Unbelievable” she grabs your hand and leads you inside.
You hug and say hi to all the aviators, not having seen them in a while. It’s been crazy with the final exams, the Christmas play at school, and tons of different things. You all sit down, Nat offering you some hot chocolate that you gladly accept.
“So, are we giving the presents now?” Fanboy says, almost jumping in his seat from the excitement.
“What are you, five?” laughs Rooster while stealing some Christmas cookies from the tray that Jake left on the coffee table.
“Look, I’ve been waiting two weeks for this. I need my gift now.” Fanboy states, and all of you chuckle a bit at his antics. Fanboy truly loves Christmas.
“Okay, go get the gifts, we’ll be here” Payback says, leaning back on the sofa.
“But there’s a lot?” the wizzo retorts.
“You wanted the gifts, go get them”
“BUT-”
“OH LORD I’LL GO WITH YOU” exclaims Phoenix getting up from her seat and going with him to Jake’s room where all the gifts have been carefully placed.
When they come back, you feel a bit nervous. It’s a very significant gift. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought that.
You watch as Rooster opens his gift first. Inside the box, there’s the most ugly Hawaiian shirt you’ve ever seen.
“Wait, are those actual roosters?” you point to the birds in the shirt, and Rooster laughs out loud when he sees that yes, those are actual roosters.
“Oh my god, I know who gave me this” he looks directly at Nat. “Was it you?”
“Look, I hate your shirts. But I know you love them, so I had to give you a very special one” she says, getting up to hug Bradley.
Nat is now opening her gift. It’s a helmet for her motorcycle, with the same stickers as her aviator helmet. Bob bought a helmet the other day. Yes! You were right! Bob had Phoenix.
“Oh. my. God. This is the best gift EVER” she tries it on, and immediately goes to hug Bob. “I don’t even have to ask. You know my helmet better than me”
“I was worried for a second that it wouldn’t fit you” he smiles and pats the helmet. "It looks good on you."
“Thank you so much, Bob. It's perfect," she says as she grabs a white box with red dots from the table. “I think this one’s yours, buddy.”
Bob grabs the box and sits next to you, opening it slowly. He has the most beautiful smile on his face. But it drops instantly when he sees what’s inside the box.
“Bob? It’s an iPad, bud. That’s awesome!” Coyote announces, not understanding the wizzo’s reaction.
“It’s mine. I bought it last year,” he explains, looking at you. “Y/n?”
“Just open it,” you simply reply.
When Bob unlocks the iPad, a video begins to play immediately. It’s an ultrasound.
"Oh, my god,” Nat says, covering her mouth in surprise.
Bob is still looking at the screen, looking at the 11-week-old baby that will soon keep the both of you awake during the night. “You’re pregnant?”
You nod, tears filling your eyes. Bob drops the iPad in the box and hugs you so tight that it almost hurts. “Babe, too tight”
He pulls away, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. It’s just… Oh my god. You’re gonna be a mom. I’m gonna be a dad! We’re gonna be parents,” he is rambling at this point, and it’s just so cute.
“And we’re gonna be uncles!” exclaims Hangman. “Oh my god, I have experience. I can change diapers. And babysit. You better name him Jake.”
“I don’t even know if they’re a girl or a boy,” you laugh.
Bob kneels down in front of you, carefully moving his hands toward your belly. “We showered together; how come I didn’t notice?”
“You can suck your belly in, even if you’re pregnant.”
His hands caress your belly, and he lowers his head to leave a soft kiss. “Hi, Bob”
“Did you just call them Bob?”
"Yeah, it's their call sign, Baby On Board," he says, and you can't stop yourself from kissing him.
“Hey! That’s what I call you! I should be the godfather.” Jake protests, ending in a heated debate between Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and himself, fighting for the godfather position.
“This is the most wonderful Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten, darling. Thank you so much,” he whispers, kissing you softly, his hands never leaving your belly.
#top gun#top gun maverick#tgm#top gun bob floyd#top gun bob#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob fluff#robert 'bob' floyd#top gun fanfiction#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#robert floyd x reader#bob top gun#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd x reader#top gun x reader#top gun maverick fanfic
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Dinner Plans
Requested: yes
Summary: You may have forgotten to mention to your husband that his friend’s were coming over for dinner. What could go wrong?
Word count: 1.0k
Warnings: allusions to smut.
Pairings: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Wife!reader
The smell of fresh biscuits was the first thing that Bob noticed when he stepped into his house. The delectable scent calmed him slightly. He allowed the stress from today’s training to roll off him in waves. With a sigh, his eyes slipped shut as he let his duffel bag thud as it slipped from his fingers. “I’m home Honey!” A few seconds later you rounded the corner with a towel in your hand. Bob relaxed even more as you flashed him a large, warm smile. His arms wound around your waist and he breathed in the comforting scent of your raspberry and vanilla perfume.
He softened like butter when you began to play with the short hairs at the back of his neck. Your husband released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding before he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a soft smile on your face as he peppered kisses across your skin. “How was your day, Baby?” You whispered, pecking his jaw afterwards.
Bob groaned lightly into your neck causing you to coo quietly. The feel of his arms tightening around your waist sent butterflies into your stomach. You loved that even after years of being together, he could still make you feel as if it were your first date all over again.
Kissing your neck one last time, your husband pulled back. He offered you a tired smile as he slipped his sweater off. “I think I’m going to head out to the garage for a little bit.” You nodded softly, patting his forearm with a gentle smile. He placed a chaste kiss to your cheek before heading off toward the garage.
You moved back into the kitchen, smiling when you heard the familiar sound of your husband's drums fill your home. Your phone chimed in your pocket causing you to jump slightly. Grinning at her text, you quickly sent Phoenix a thumbs up. She and the boys would be here in the next twenty minutes or so.
Your music filled the kitchen once more, drowning out the sound of your husband letting out his frustrations. There were only a few more things that you needed to do to finish off dinner. After checking on the large pot of stew on the stove, you switched off the burner. You moved to set the table, double-checking that there were enough plates for everyone. The last thing you had to do was take the biscuits out of the oven.
Humming quietly along with your music, you moved the stew to the pot holder in the center of the table. After that, you transferred the biscuits onto a larger plate and moved it to the table as well.
It was then that you heard the ringing of the doorbell. The fact that your husband may not have heard it slipped your mind as you headed toward the door. You grinned widely as you opened the door, accepting the hug from Phoenix as she threw her arms around you. Bradley, Jake, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback all offered you small smiles as they moved into your home. Jake closed the door behind him while you rushed forward with Phoenix, animatedly chatting about the recent gossip at your work.
Everyone gathered around the kitchen, the boys helping themselves to the beers in the fridge. A few seconds later everyone grew silent, focusing on the steady beating of the drums coming from the garage. You watched as the boy's jaws dropped. Phoenix just smirked. Of course she knew that her WSO was an expert at playing the drums.
Rooster turned to you with a shocked look, his eyes darting between you and where the noise was coming from. You could only grin as you lifted one of your shoulders in a shrug. Before you could stop them, every single one of the male aviators began rushing toward your garage causing you and Phoenix to sigh. She rolled her eyes at her friend's childish behaviour. The two of you followed after them, stopping at the door to your garage.
Your husband had a large blue covering his cheeks. When the boys had burst into the room, Bob had instantly stopped drumming. His sticks had clattered onto the ground as he froze in his spot. He wasn’t exactly trying to keep the fact that he could drum from the boys, he just didn’t want to deal with the teasing that he knew would come with them knowing. You offered him a shy smile, watching the blush rise further onto his cheeks as the boys started asking questions.
Bob sighed as he stood up. He answered a few of their questions as he made his way to you. When he reached you he smiled slightly, cocking an eyebrow as he glanced around at his friends. “Sorry honey,” You whispered with a sheepish smile. He only shook his head lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of your cheek. Phoenix nudged you gently when he pulled back. She shot you a teasing smile as you glared at her.
You rolled your eyes as she snickered quietly. Leading the group to the kitchen, you all sat down around the table and began dishing up. You sat down next to your husband after grabbing a glass of water. Bob set his hand on your thigh and squeezed softly.
The rest of the meal passed relatively easily. Conversation flowed smoothly, everyone seeming to have forgotten what happened in the garage. That was until Jake spoke up from the end of the table. “Why the drums, Baby on Board?” Sighing as the rest of the group laughed quietly, your husband took a bit of his biscuit before responding. His response left everyone gasping quietly before breaking out into laughter. Jake was left with a beet-red blush on his cheeks.
“Well,” He started before sipping on his water. “I figured it would be better to bang something other than my lovely wife to let my frustrations out. Maybe you’ll understand one day, but I don’t wanna break her, Bagman.” Your husband smirked when he was finished. You stared at him with a look of amusement and shock. That definitely was not what you were expecting him to say.
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20 Questions: In Three Parts
summary - You should have known to question when Bob suddenly appeared in your bakery and made his place in your life—but, in your defense, his smile was so charming! Five dates in and he’s already swept you off your feet completely with his thoughtful nature and kind heart. But the question still remains: what do you actually know about him? And why does he always come back to you covered in bruises?
warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, Bob is 6′5″ because I said so, no use of y/n, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you would like
this series is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.5k
sweeter than sugar masterlist
“Okay, 20 questions.”
Bob raises his brows slightly. “20 questions?”
“Yeah,” you grin at him from over the counter. “20 questions.”
You didn’t exactly know what your relationship with Bob was. After your impromptu lunch, he started stopping by Sugar Plum more regularly. Then that turned to him staying until closing. Then after closing—Eloise was there too at first, but when you both deemed Bob to be an, at least, normal guy, she started giving you privacy. She certainly doesn’t mind going home an hour early either. Now he chats with you until everything is cleaned and put away—he offered to help, but you have a system—and then walks you to your car.
Bob looks at you before he lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Yeah, alright. Are you starting or am I?”
“I can start.” You tell him over your shoulder. “And that counts as one of your questions, by the way.” You add.
“I don’t think that’s entirely fair,” Bob chuckles.
You ignore him coyly. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
“Probably New York, just to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.” Bob says after a moment.
“You like art?” You pause from wiping down the countertop.
Bob’s lip twitches into a small smile. “I do. And that counts as one of your questions. What made you know you wanted to be a baker?”
“I don’t know, it was something I did for fun growing up. I used to sit my family down and force them to eat whatever crime against chemistry I concocted. But when I got good at it, and realized I could make a career out of it, I just kinda did,” you shrug, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “What about you? What do you do for work?”
“Would you still like me if I told you I was unemployed?”
You laugh. “I know you’re not unemployed, Bob.”
“How do you know that?” Bob makes a slight face.
“Men who are unemployed don’t usually leave repeated 20% tips.”
The tips of Bob’s ears pinken. “Right well, I don’t know, I don’t really have a job. I… work at a gym, but I pick up odd jobs all over the place too.”
“That’s cool,” and you mean it, but you can also tell Bob is slightly embarrassed and he definitely shouldn’t be. “What do you do at the gym?”
He looks down and you think it’s rather sweet how shy he seems. “I’m a boxing instructor. Give lessons and all that.”
“Do you get a lot of boxers?” Your eyebrows raise. You’d heard rumors from Eloise when you first moved to San Diego. How there’s some elaborate underground boxing ring that connects all throughout the city. You’re not sure you believe it—it seems a little far fetched—but maybe there’s some validity to the fact that, at the very least, the sport is popular.
Bob lets out a hollow sounding chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”
“I’m sure I would be. The only thing I punch is, like, stubborn dough,” you wrinkle your nose after a moment, freezing behind the counter. “That was a terrible joke actually, I’m sorry.”
Bob lets out a genuine chuckle this time, his head dropping as he bites back a smile, looking up at you through his lashes. “You ever tried standup, sweet pea?”
“No,” you stick your tongue out at him. “And that’s question number three.”
Bob holds his hands up in mock surrender, and though it hardly graces his lips, there’s a smile in his eyes as he watches you finish up the last of your cleaning. You seem somewhat deep in thought as you reach behind yourself to tug on the ties of your apron. The canvas strings catch and Bob stands as you fiddle with them.
“Want help?”
You nod gratefully, moving out from behind the counter so he can reach you. It’s quiet as he untangles the ties and you keep your gaze trained on your shoes because you really don’t want Bob to see how the feeling of his breath on the back of your neck is affecting you.
“There.” His hands drop and the untied apron now opens around your body. “Think it’s your turn to ask a question, sweet pea.”
You take off your apron with a shaky breath, gathering all your courage before you turn to face Bob again. You like hanging out with him and the way he just goes along with whatever antics you put him through. What other grown man entertains the idea of playing 20 questions? You like hanging out with him and you want to do it more. “Do you think you could, um, teach me… boxing? That’s— That’s my question.”
“I don’t know if—”
“I was planning on starting it anyway!” That’s definitely a lie but there’s no way you’d ever tell Bob that. “It seemed like good exercise and one of my friends has been raving about it. But I’d feel better if I knew the instructor.”
Bob swallows, looking at you with an unreadable expression before he finally nods slowly. “I guess I could— Yeah sure, I’ll, um, I’ll teach you. Does Wednesday afternoon work?”
“Yeah, that works,” you nod excitedly, turning away to turn off the kitchen lights—as well as hide your giddy expression. “That was another question, by the way. Now we’re even.”
“Well, someone’s home late,” Mickey lets out a low whistle as Bob closes the door to his apartment, his legs kicked up on the coffee table as he lounges on the couch.
“You know you don’t live here, right?”
Mickey looks up in mock offense, powdered sugar sticking to the corner of his lips. “Is that anyway to treat your best friend? Since childhood?”
“How is reminding you that you have your own apartment—” Bob stops, looking at the open—and very empty—purple box with white cursive font on it. “Did you eat my donuts?”
Mickey’s eyes flick flatly down to the identical box in Bob’s hands before going back up to his face. Sheepishly, Bob looks away, not wanting his best friend to catch on to the pink blush that is dusting his cheeks.
“Clearly, I did you a favor. Don’t think your trainer’s gonna be too happy that you’re stuffing yourself full of sugar,” Mickey licks some of the powdered sugar off his lips, before making himself comfortable again.
Bob’s blush deepens. “It’s not that much.”
“Sure. Is she cute at least?” Mickey wipes his index finger on the sugar covered parchment paper in the box, popping it in his mouth with a satisfied hum.
“Who?”
“The girl you’re trying to impress by buying all this shit.” Bob opens his mouth to protest, but Mickey scoffs, “Don’t even try to act like you’re not. You did the same thing in middle school when you had a crush on Mindy Carverse.”
“No, I didn’t,” Bob calls over his shoulder, moving to the kitchen to put down the box of treats from Sugar Plum you insisted he take home with him—and to escape Mickey’s pestering.
“You forced me to join the mathletes with you because she was the captain. We were both in the lowest level math class, Bob!”
“Okay, well that— These are entirely different situations,” Bob argues back, peering through the wall cutout of his kitchen at the back of Mickey’s head. “She just makes really good desserts.”
Mickey jumps up, whirling around and pointing an accusing, powdered sugar covered finger at him. “Aha! So there is a girl, I knew it! Has Bobby boy found himself a girlfriend?”
“Would you stop it? You’re worse than my mom,” Bob groans, tossing an oven mitt at Mickey in retaliation.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with Sarah wanting her baby Bo to find a nice girl and settle down,” Mickey dodges the oven mitt easily and Bob huffs out a low scoff as it flops and then skids off the coffee table. “But you, sir, are avoiding the question. Who is she? When’d ya meet her? Does she like you? Have you kiss—”
This time he doesn’t dodge the second oven mitt that hits him in the face.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just— She’s just nice, alright?” Bob looks down at the swirly font of “Sugar Plum Bakery”, stark white against lilac purple, with a small smile. “She’s sweet.”
Mickey’s smile grows and he hurries around the couch to join Bob in the kitchen. “Oh, so you like like her then? You gonna ask her out?”
“No,” Bob deflates at the reminder, walking out of the kitchen to toss the empty box of treats Mickey finished before it starts attracting ants.
“What?” Mickey follows after him, brows furrowed. “Why?”
Bob sighs.
Guilt had been bubbling in his stomach since he’d agreed to see you again Wednesday, eating away at his stomach lining with every bitter reminder. He lied. He lied. He lied. Good people don’t lie, Bob knows that. He doesn’t need some children's book to tell him that, some rabbits or otters, he knows he shouldn’t lie.
But if Bob doesn’t lie, he admits he’s a bad person. If he doesn’t lie, he has to look you in the eyes—those same eyes that light up when you ramble about something you like, that hide behind your cheeks when you smile, that look at him so softly—and tell you that he beats the ever living shit out of people for a living. And good people don’t do that.
So he didn’t tell you that. He lied. He lied. He lied. And Bob told himself that he should leave you alone, that you don’t deserve to be with someone like him. That you don’t deserve to be with someone who covers his every mistake with reusable shopping bags and recycling bins—like cheap band-aids on a bullet hole.
Bob tells himself to leave you alone. But he can never seem to follow it. Instead he comes back, and keeps coming back, and asks you to share cupcakes with him, and agrees to teach you how to box. Because, even though he tells himself he doesn’t deserve you, it does nothing to outweigh the fact that he wants you anyway.
So Bob can’t ask you out—he can’t ask you to stay. Because, if he does, Bob knows he’ll do everything in his power to make sure you never leave. And you deserve more than reusable shopping bags and recycling bins. You deserve more than a liar.
Mickey’s lips suddenly part in understanding. “She doesn’t know.”
Bob swallows, looking down at the empty purple box with white cursive font in his hands.
“She doesn’t know,” he repeats.
You’re already waiting outside when Bob finally makes it to Maverick’s on Wednesday afternoon. The two of you had been texting back and forth in anticipation—which resulted in you sending him a very cute photo of you pretending to box pastry dough that he has since made your contact picture. But even with all of that, he feels slightly sick seeing you standing in front of white painted bricks of Maverick’s Gym and Boxing.
“Hi!” You wave excitedly as Bob gets closer, waiting until he’s standing in front of you to speak again. “You ready, coach?”
That puts a small smile on his face and he shakes his head as he opens the door for you both. “Coach?” He questions simply.
“Yeah, you’re coaching me, aren’t you? Like Rocky.”
Bob gives the girl at the front desk a small nod of acknowledgement. She knows him—most people at Maverick’s do—and only seems mildly surprised to see you walking in next to him. Bob doesn’t usually bring people here, even Mickey’s only seen the inside of Maverick’s a couple times.
“Is that the only boxing movie you know?” Bob teases lightly, your excitement making it marginally harder for him to feel uneasy about bringing you here.
“For your information, I saw the trailer for the new Creed movie, I just never got around to watching it. But there’s another franchise,” you put your hands on your hips as Bob turns around to grab some clean wraps and gloves for you. “And that definitely counts as another question for you.”
His eyebrows raise slightly and he cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at you. “We’re still playin’?”
“We haven’t gotten to 20 questions yet. We both only got to five— Well, now I’m at five. You’re at six.”
“Alright then, we’ll keep playing. Give me your hands please.” You hold your hands out for Bob to wrap them, watching with bated breath as his calloused fingers brush against your skin. “Gotta keep your hands protected, sweet pea. They got work to do decorating pretty cakes.”
You grin as Bob slides a glove onto one of your hands, before deciding it’s not the right size and taking it off. “They’re also very sick of decorating pretty cakes. I had to make, like, three wedding cakes in the past seven days.”
Bob finally finds a pair of gloves he’s happy with, sliding them on your hands and securing them with the velcro strap carefully.
“Decorating pretty cupcakes, then.” He gives you a small smile.
He pulls away once the gloves are secure, putting a step of space between you as he straightens to his full size. He’s not wearing his ball cap today and he runs a hand through his hair to keep it out of his face, soft looking strands peeking out under his ears. Bob crosses his arms, his biceps bulging enough to test the resilience of his t-shirt sleeves. You swallow thickly. Maybe Eloise had been on to something when she called him God’s gift to women.
“Alright then, let’s see your stance, sweet pea.”
You blink, pulling yourself from the trance of Bob’s biceps and meeting his eye. “My— My what?”
“Your stance,” Bob repeats. “Let’s say you’re trying to punch me, how would you start?”
“Like this?…” You trail off unsurely, attempting to keep your feet in line with your hips because that’s what most workout YouTube videos always said and you were hoping it would also be applicable here.
You feel a little silly, you realize, and not the least bit intimidating. Part of you wishes you’d just asked Bob out like you wanted to, instead of using his job as a pretense to hangout with him. When another tall, large man starts approaching from behind Bob, you drop the stance in mild embarrassment, like you’ve been caught trying something you shouldn’t, and Bob’s brows furrow.
“Hey Reaper, you lookin’ to—” When the man’s focus lands on you, having not been able to see you behind Bob’s towering frame, his eyes widen slightly. “Oh shit, my bad. Didn’t know you had a girl with ya, Reaper.”
Bob freezes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, um, maybe another time, Brigham.”
The man nods in understanding, throwing you a polite wave as he leaves. “For sure, man. Sorry for interrupting.”
You wait for him to walk away, nose scrunched in confusion. Bob seems to be acting like the whole event never happened, moving through his routine like it was never interrupted. It throws you a bit because, to you, that man seemed perfectly normal. But Bob’s almost putting up an act of normalcy. “Why does he call you that?”
“Why does he call me what?” Bob returns the question, not facing you as he grabs two strike pads.
“Reaper.”
He stills, a pad halfway on his hand and he keeps his gaze stubbornly trained on it. You almost feel like you’ve ventured into territory that you shouldn’t until he finally speaks.“I… I love spicy food. It’s Reaper like a Carolina Reaper.”
“Oh,” you nod and Bob finishes putting on the strike pads. “That’s cool! I guess that probably counts as my question too, huh?”
Bob swallows, not quite meeting your eye as he nods. “Yeah, um, you ready to start?” You grin at his question and it seems like Bob can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto his lips. “I’m never gonna learn anything about you if you keep counting these as questions, sweet pea.”
“That’s a shame. You’ll just have to get better at asking questions then,” you shrug and then look down in baffled surprise when the weight of your hands snapped your arms straight back to your sides. Boxing gloves are heavy.
Bob lets out a loud, honest laugh at your expression. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh, you realize. Maybe the first time anyone has heard him laugh if the startled reactions of people around you are anything to go by. But you look up and Bob’s eyes are squeezed shut, his face all crows feet and smile lines, and he laughs.
You want to make him laugh all the time.
“Sorry,” he quiets down to soft chuckles, looking at you endearingly as his mouth returns to its usual small smile. “Sorry, that was just— I’ve never seen anyone make that face before.”
“It’s okay. I like when you laugh.”
Like some kind of fucked up Freudian slip, your mouth doesn’t stop when it’s supposed to, instead choosing to spill out the thought that’s been orbiting your mind for the past minute or so. The words hang in the air—your mouth choosing now to finally close, your teeth hitting each other audibly—and you almost wish you could punch them instead of Bob’s strike pads.
Bob’s bright pink from cheeks, to ears, to neck and he looks down. “Thank you… I, um, I also like when you laugh.”
“Oh.” Most of your mortification washes away as Bob smiles at you bashfully and you can’t stop the butterflies that are fluttering in your stomach. “Thanks.”
It’s quiet and you look down at your boxing gloves as you try to beg the butterflies inside you to go back to their caterpillar state so that you can calm down. Bob doesn’t seem to be faring much better, turning his neck to peer out one of the many windows in Maverick’s—a blush still very evident on his face.
“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” You blurt.
Bob turns back to look at you quickly. “Sorry?”
“For 20 questions.” You elaborate. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Oh, right,” Bob looks up for a moment to think. “Probably cookie dough, I think.” He holds the strike pads up suddenly and you cringe internally at the reminder of what you’ve agreed to do just to spend time with this man. “Sorry, you came here for a lesson. We can—”
Your eyes widen slightly and you try to prolong the inevitable. “It’s your turn to ask a question,” you interrupt hastily.
Bob drops his hands, looking at you thoughtfully and not saying a word. You wonder if he’s finally caught on to how desperate you’re acting. You’d hyped yourself up this morning and everything! And yet you are still acting like an idiot.
Bob swallows, lets out a breath, and then meets your eye. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”
What Bob Floyd wants to do and what he knows he should do are two very different things, and it was in meeting you that Bob realized he is far more inclined to do what he wants. Because he told Mickey that he wouldn’t ask you out, that you’re too good for him, that he would leave you alone. And here he is waiting outside a restaurant you suggested, wearing a nice button up and slacks like he’s some sort of Mav clone after having spent a little over half an hour slicking back his hair and gathering his nerves.
Which is entirely the opposite of leaving you alone.
Briefly, he wonders if he should go. Act like a dick in that regard and make it so you don’t want him around you anymore. Leave you waiting for him at a restaurant wondering if Bob Floyd is really the good person you thought he was. But he can’t stomach the thought for more than a second. Because he doesn’t deserve you, he knows that, but you're both well past that now so there’s not much he can do about it. The least he could do is try.
“Oh gosh, sorry! I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
Bob turns around at the sound of your voice, mouth opening to assure you that he really hasn’t been waiting that long. But his eyes land on you and suddenly words escape him. You’re so pretty.
“Fuck, I should have brought flowers.” He takes in your dress, and then his words, and then cringes. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t curse on a date.”
You laugh, looking up at him with a smile Bob thinks is far too large for him to be on the receiving end of. “It’s okay. And, um, next time we can both get each other flowers.”
Bob moves to open the door for you, which he knows he should do, so he can distract himself from the sudden urge he has to kiss you, which he really wants to do. You follow after him, sliding off your jacket as you enter the dimly lit restaurant. Bob hasn’t been here before and it seems you haven’t either, as you look a little disoriented searching for the hostess.
“Sorry, I’ve never actually eaten here,” you explain after the hostess makes her way to the both of you and seats you at a table. “I’ve just always wanted to check it out and their reviews say they have really good spicy food, so I thought you might like it.”
Bob has never been more grateful that growing up with Mickey Garcia meant being force fed every pepper in existence under the pretense of double-dog dares and weekly allowances. Because of that, he’s built up a fairly high spice tolerance to match the lie he told you at Maverick’s. Again, Bob’s stomach twists at the reminder.
“But anyway,” you wave off, pulling Bob’s attention away from his inner turmoil and onto you. “I’ve been thinking about what questions to ask you and I think I got the most important ones.”
“Alright, hit me.” Bob nods, rubbing the tips of his fingers together nervously under the table.
You make a sour face suddenly. “Don’t even use that as an expression around me, my arms are still sore from Wednesday.”
Bob chuckles, ducking his head down to hide his smile as you rub out your arms with a slight pout. “I’ll let you borrow a massage gun.”
“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.” You narrow your eyes teasingly. “But you should know that I box now and my trainer is really good, so I know how to kick your ass.”
Bob smiles and he realizes he likes the sound of being your trainer—well, he likes the sound of being your anything. And he knows that isn’t a thought he should be having, not with how much he’s lied to you, but as the waitress takes your order and you tease him for the fact he ordered a soda, Bob doesn’t want to throw that thought away. He wants to keep doing this with you and listen to you laugh, and ask him questions, and tell him how you’ll kick his ass. He knows he shouldn’t, but he wants to.
“Okay,” you look at him seriously. “What’s the movie that means the most to you?”
Bob hums, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. “Probably The Notebook. It’s my mom’s favorite movie and we’d watch it all the time - movie nights, if I was home sick, it was just kind of our thing. So, yeah, The Notebook.”
When Bob looks up, you’re smiling at him, eyes twinkling under the orangey-yellow bulb that hangs from the long ceiling light above your table. Normally he would have picked a cooler movie, he doesn’t entirely know why he’s being so honest with you. Maybe it’s his brain’s way of combating the guilt that comes from when he’s lied to you. Maybe, if he’s honest enough, it’ll balance out.
“What about you though?” He asks. “Do you have a movie that means the most to you?”
Your mouth falls open. “Hey! You can’t just repeat my question, that’s cheating!”
Bob chuckles at your outcry—and the way you nudge his leg with your own under the table. “I don’t think you can cheat at 20 questions, sweet pea. Besides, maybe I really wanna know what movie means the most to you.”
“Fine, I’ll allow it. But you can cheat at 20 questions and you just did.” You nudge his knee again before thinking. “I’d say Ratatouille as mine.” Smiling softly, you recall a memory. “It’s what inspired me to care so much about food, I think. I’d watch it and dream of working in Paris just like Remy.”
“Do you still want to work in Paris?”
You purse your lips pensively. “No, I don’t think so. I love San Diego, I don’t think I could leave. Even for Paris. What about you? Do you see yourself staying a boxing instructor?”
“Yeah,” Bob swallows down a sip of his Coke, but it does nothing to push down the honesty erupting from his mouth. “It’s just one of those jobs that makes you feel like you couldn’t do anything else, I guess. But there are worse jobs to have.”
The waitress comes back with your food before you can respond—Bob’s somewhat grateful for that as he’s not entirely sure if he wants to hear what you’ll say to his answer. Your game of 20 questions is paused, conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and Bob finds himself smiling, and chuckling—and laughing—between mouthfuls. He likes you, he knew that already. But he wants you too. And he knows he shouldn’t, but right now, under orangey-yellow lights and with the taste of Coca-Cola on his tongue, he can’t bring himself to care.
It isn’t until you’re saying goodbye, as he helps you put your coat on and opens the door for you, that he even remembers you had yet to finish your game.
“Wait!” You stop at the sound of his voice, turning to look at him as you stand on the sidewalk and Bob takes a few strides to meet you. “It’s— It’s your turn. You have the last question.”
You bite back a smile and Bob’s glad it’s somewhat dark out so you can’t catch how pink you’ve made him—again. But you’re looking up at him so intently, he’s sure you’ve noticed anyway.
“I’m gonna save it,” you say.
“Save it?”
“Yeah.” And as you stand there, under the warm light of the restaurant's frosted windows grinning at him, Bob swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful. “So I guess we’ll just have to go on another date.”
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If you're still taking requests, how about a beach day with Bob and the squad finds out he has a matching tattoo with his partner
𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩
𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛
There's a reason that Bob usually wears a shirt on beach days. Even if everyone else on the squadron likes to tease that it's because he's not as toned as they are--which simply is not true--no one really knows why that is.
Until you accompany your boyfriend to the beach one hot and wet afternoon, a wicker picnic basket tucked under your arm and straw hat flopped on your head.
You're happy to be at the beach--you and Bob had agreed to take advantage of the nice weather in San Diego more than you had in the past, so when the squadron deemed that afternoon as a beach afternoon, the two of you had been all in.
"Floyd," Hangman greets, waving the two of you over to the parade of sweaty bodies in the sand. Hangman cheekily tips his cowboy hat at you. "Eventual Floyd," he greets with a wink.
Bob's blushing--a good sort of blush, one that makes his heart pulse with adoration. Yes, you will be a Floyd--eventually. And he's glad that everyone around knows it.
And you're all grins, tipping your straw hat at Hangman and gesturing to the picnic basket.
"I brought strawberry muffins," you tell him, which causes a chain-reaction of hollering from the group as everyone abandons their previous activities to gather around your picnic basket.
Bob just watches you for a moment, slipping his sunglasses on, smiling softly as his toes dig into the sand. You're grinning that pretty grin of yours, happily giving away all the strawberry muffins you made this morning so dutifully. You're such a giver--and so, so kind--and that's something he loves about you. Even right now, you're offering everyone bottles of water and extra tubes of sunscreen. You just can't seem to help yourself.
And you're just happy to be there--you really do love the squadron and reckon you've found somewhat of a family in their company. So after everyone's given you very wet hugs and thanked you profusely for the muffins and refreshments, they're begging you and Bob to join them for another game of Dog Fight Football.
"Shirts and skins," Coyote says, looking between you and Bob with a smile. "Who's who?"
"Good question," Payback adds with a playful eye roll.
"You can both be skins if you want," Fanboy finishes, bumping you with his elbow. "Don't think anyone here would complain."
Phoenix strikes him in the back of the head with a grumble before Bob can.
You're blushing, laughing.
Bob's shrugging his shirt off before you can even think about it--even if Coyote's only teasing the two of you, Bob never wants you to feel uncomfortable.
"Bob, man," Rooster calls with a smirk. "You've got a tattoo?"
It tickles you that the rest of the squadron has seemingly never seen him shirtless--because if they had, they would have seen it already. It's hard to miss: it's about the size of the middle of your palm, inked on his skin in black. It's a stamp of a honeybee, drawn in a classic illustrative style that Bob found himself drawn to the year he got it.
"Uh huh," Bob says, shyly raking his hand through his hair and resisting the urge to put his shirt back on. He feels like he's going to burn alive not even under the sun but under the gaze of his entire squadron as they come to get a better look at him. "So, football?"
"Uh-uh," Phoenix tuts, letting her sunglasses fall down on her nose as she looks closer at the tattoo. "Is that a honeybee?"
Bob nods, pretending like the red in his cheeks is from the sun and not from their prodding.
You know Bob well--arguably, you know Bob better than anyone else in the world. So as you stand beside the emptying picnic basket and watch him shrink underneath everyone's gaze, wringing his shirt in his hands nervously, stuttering out responses and trying to steer everyone away from him--you know you need to do something.
So you take your cover-up off, which you know will give everyone a view of the matching stamp on your outer shoulder. You move over to the group, holding a tube of sunscreen in your hand, pushing your sunglasses up your nose.
"Hey, Nix," you call, smiling when she turns to you with her eyebrows raised. "Can you get my tattoo? It's sensitive to the sun. Don't want it to fade."
That's got everyone's attention, much to Bob's immediate relief. You've always been much better at receiving attention than him. You're less shy by nature, which is something he's always admired about you, and you don't get so stuffy beneath everyone's gaze.
"You have one, too?!" Rooster asks, coming to take a closer look at your arm as you smile, pretending to be coy.
"Uh-oh," Payback sing-songs. "That's a flower, isn't it?"
It clicks for the group just before you give a proud nod, confirming that you and Bob indeed have matching tattoos. And they're thinking about chiding you, the lot of them cooing mockingly and pinching your sides. But you're too prideful for that, just tilting your chin towards the sky and smiling your pretty smile, giving all of them the same energy.
"I'm his petal," you say, intentionally inducing a grimace on their faces, "and he's my honeybee."
"And suddenly, I want to play football again," Hangman snorts, promptly nodding before turning back to the sand.
What you're saying is the truth; you do call each other petal and honeybee. But it's always been something the two of you have kept under wraps, indulging in the sweetness of it but all too aware of just how sickly-romantic it is.
Phoenix is rubbing suntan lotion on you through her remaining giggles and the rest of the squadron is starting to filter back over to the sand to pick back up where they left off, crumbling their muffin wrappers and tossing them into the trash bag.
Bob falls more and more in love with you every single day--he is just a man after all. How could he not when you're the most perfect person he's ever met? You outdo yourself everyday--outdoing the previous days sweetness, selflessness, kindness, wit, beauty. And right now is no exception; you're chatting with Phoenix about her date, something she mentioned last weekend off-handedly but something that you'd remembered to ask about because that's just how you are. You're so happy, gasping and oohing and awing along with her words, practically glowing under the sun.
Whenever Phoenix finishes and you glance over at Bob, your eyes partially hidden by sunglasses, your smile is as sweet as those muffins everyone loves. Bob can't help himself--he cups your cheeks, tipping your hat back just slightly, thumbing your cheeks gently.
"Too much?" You ask, searching his wanton face as your smile falters. "Didn't mean to give our pet-names out like that, but I could tell you weren't comfortable and--!"
"--You better get ready," Bob interrupts, smiling softly as your face softens and your brows come together.
You carefully stroke his tattoo before letting your hands rest on his shoulders, his skin warm beneath your palms.
"For what?" You ask, giggling when he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours sweetly.
"To become a Floyd," he mumbles against your lips with a grin. "Sooner rather than later, petal."
here is my tag list!!
#it is bob#bob floyd is the best friend in the world#bobfucks#bob you have my whole heart i love you#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#top gun bob#robert bob floyd#bob top gun#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert floyd#bob fluff#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#robert floyd x reader#bob floyd angst#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x oc#robert floyd x you#robert floyd fic#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x y/n#robert floyd fanfiction#bob x reader#bob floyd fluff#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd fluff#Robert floyd imagine
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Fix it.
Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader
Summary: Hangman offers to help Bob with a crush he has on the Hard Decks barmaid.
Warnings: Swearing, degradation of women, use of the term slut, mentions of sex, degradation during sex, mild mention of wanting to crash a plane, misogyny, inaccuracies about women and daddy issues, throwing a drink in someone's face, the term bumping uglies is used and I feel like that should be a warning.
Word Count: 4003
Author's note: So, this is the first time I have ever written for Top Gun, I know nothing about the military, so please forgive me. But, here it is, and I hope you all like it. Also, I obviously do not believe the nonsense about women and daddy issues or any of the other degrading things said about women, It is all to further the story. Please remember to be kind. And remember, do not tolerate, let alone fall for, anyone who degrades you!
____
“So, tell me little Bobby Boy”, the chair squeaked across the linoleum floor as Hangman turned it around, taking a seat across from Phoenix and Bob, who were clearly engaged in a private conversation, “were my eyes deceiving me or were you blushing when you were talking to Penny’s new pretty little barmaid?” Neither the scowl on Phoenix’s face nor the blush on Bob’s could be prevented, and these both deepened the smirk on Hangmans.
“What’s it to you Bagman?” There were very specific moments Bob was thankful for Phoenix, and intercepting hangman when they all knew he was about to get too much was one of them. The ever deepening crush on ‘Penny's new pretty little barmaid’ was something Bob was hoping to just, kind of, get through. He was well aware that this was something that was never going to happen and he needed it to blow over, now.
So Phoenix sitting here quietly trying to encourage him to ask for your number was not helping squash any and all hope he had that he MIGHT get the courage to ask, but now he also had Bagman asking questions on top of it? What happened to the days where no one noticed him?
“Well, you see, I myself had my eyes on her, but the second I saw Baby On Board over here looking redder than Rooster after a game of DogFight, I knew I had to do my good deed of the week and help my man out over here.” Phoenix felt her annoyance rise the longer she stared at that godforsaken toothpick hanging out of his mouth. Bobby didn’t need help, not from Hangman at least.
“I’ve got it, but thanks Bagman” Phoenix twisted in her chair, fully facing Bob’s side profile now, the man in question focusing on a spot on the table in front of him, hoping they’d forget he was even there at this point while he tried to get his own blushing under control.
“Ah! So he does have a crush on her!” Hangman's voice carried across the room causing the other Daggers to start paying more attention to what was happening in the once seemingly quiet corner of the room.
“Who has a crush on who now?” Rooster made his way over, mimicking Hangman as he took the chair next to him and spun it round, heaving himself into it as he waited for an explanation. Coyote, Fanboy and Payback all sauntered after him, the entire table now surrounded, Bob’s head dropping even lower, eyes scrunched shut, refusing to push his glasses further up his nose from where they had begun slipping down in fear of moving and drawing attention to himself.
“Bob has a crush on the new barmaid” Hangmans gaze hadn’t left Phoenix’s glaring eyes and that shit eating grin had yet to leave his face.
“Oh shit! No wonder he was so willing to get the drinks Friday night then.” a large hand came down on the table in front of them, the loud noise causing Bob to jump, a bewildered (and very red looking face) turning to Phoenix, a silent plea to get them out of this situation.
“Well, yes, but we don’t need-” Phoenix tried, she really did, but when these men got in on information like this, it was hard to get them out of it again.
“So, when are you making your move?” Fanboys' question was innocent enough, but considering he was one of the few pilots that knew Bob a little better than the rest, just after Phoenix, it was a fairly dumb question and the alarmed look on Bob's face was indication enough of that.
And if the look on Bob’s face wasn’t enough, the look of exasperation on Phoenix’s was.
“We were working on getting Bob to that point before Hangman over here,” an accusatory finger was thrown in the offender's direction, “interrupted me”.
“And here I was to extend a helping hand. It’s kind of seeming like you aren’t all that appreciative of that help here Bobby Boy” the entire table, other than Phoenix (again, thank you Phoenix), was now staring directly at Bob.
“That’s a little rude of you Bob” Cyotes voice could be heard behind him.
Roosters popping up next, “Yeah Bob, the man’s just trying to help.”
“Since when are you siding with Bagman of all people!” Phoenix couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How had all of these men, who seemingly couldn't stand Hangman, suddenly be siding with him.
“Since he knows how to work women. The least Bob could do would be to hear him out.” Payback tried to offer a voice of reason, knowing that when it came to Phoenix and Hangman though, it was probably falling on deaf ears.
“Work women! Are you hearing yourself?” She needed to get Bob out of here quickly.
“Listen, he has a point. Just, the goal is to get Bob and this girl together-” Rooster began before Phoenix interrupted him.
“No, the goal is to get him to have courage to ask for her number.”
“You’re thinking too small. Bobby’s a good looking guy, we can get him laid.” Bobs head shot up, wide eyes meeting Hangman’s own, more relaxed face, which was now looking directly at him, “So, what do you say? Want big ol’ Hangman's help to get you laid?”
“I don’t, it’s not really like that.” Bob muttered out weakly. I mean, yes, the thought of potentially bedding you was definitely something he didn’t want to discount, but it was more than that.
He wanted to date you. He wanted to ask for your number and talk to you for two weeks to a month over the phone and at the Hard Deck and then he wanted to ask you on a real date. And then he wanted to go on more dates and he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend and then well, if in any of that you thought he deserved it, yeah, he wanted to bed you. If he ever got the courage to do any of that, but that’s what he wanted. That was the game plan.
“Of course it’s like that. Do you or do you not want to bump uglies?” The round of ew’s did nothing to deter Hangman from the question.
“I, well, of course I want to bed her.” Bob couldn't help but beg for the ground beneath him to open up and so he could just fall into it, but Bob also knew that he rarely got so lucky.
“Bed her?”
“He means ‘fuck’ Bagman”
“Ah, thank you Rooster. But also, bed her? Seriously? Even bump uglies sounds better than that.” Hangman knew he was just getting a rise out of Bob at this point, the kick beneath the table directly into his shin from Phoenix a sharp warning to drop it, “Regardless, you’ve got our help there friend. Don’t you worry, I’ll have her eating out of your hand by the end of the night, that is a guaranteed promise.”
“Bob, listen, this is a bad idea. This is Hangman for gods sake, do you honestly think this is going to go well?” Phoenix was trying her best to dissuade him from agreeing to Hangmans help.
Bob swung his gaze between the two pilots, completely unsure of what to do. On one hand, Hangman did kind of know what he was doing when it came to women. He was frequently leaving the Hard Deck with them to get up to what Bob can only assume was some pretty disgusting activities, but on the other hand, Phoenix was completely right, this was Hangman they were talking about, one of the most cocky and degrading men any of them had ever known.
But he needed to make a call, and desperate times call for desperate measures, and Lord knows Bob was desperate for you to notice him.
“What do I need to do?” It was almost a whisper directed at Hangman followed by a groan from Phoenix and a round of cheers from the others.
“Bobby, you will not regret this, I promise you, and honestly, I’m willing to start your lessons on women right here, right now.” He swung towards Phoenix, his smile so wide Phoenix had to do everything physically possible not to wipe it off with her fist.
“The most important thing you need to remember when it comes to women,” Hangman was now looking back at Bob, who was leaning forward, attentive as always, praying this would be the lifeline he needed when it came to you, “they love what they think they can’t have and they LOVE it when you call them a slut.” The sound of Hangman and Coyotes hands meeting in a high-five was heard, shortly followed by a chair being shoved away from the desk they were currently sitting at as Phoenix rose to her feet.
“Jesus, Bob, don’t you dare come crawling to me when this goes balls up.” With one final scowl directed at hangman she was leaving the group of men, a last middle finger thrown up as a “Bye Phoenix” was shouted after her from the cockiest pilot known to man, deciding to leave whatever this mess was alone for good.
_____
“So you decided to come anyway?” Rooster asked as Phoenix settled next to him, watching the pool game happening between Fanboy and Payback, both pilots taking a sip of their individual beers.
“Came to see the shit show.” Her eyes landed on Bob and Hangman in the corner. The latter vividly talking as if he was instructing a boxer in the corner of the ring before their next round.
“I know you have your doubts, but Hangman can actually be a good man. He isn’t trying to hurt Bob, he’s just trying to help as best as he knows how.” Rooster just shrugged as Phoenix let out a sigh, both knowing what he had just said was completely true.
“I know, but God, saying women like to be called a slut?” she threw Rooster a disapproving look, concerned at the smile on her friends face.
“He explained it to Bob after you left. He meant it purely from a sex perspective. Like, you know when you’re going at it and you say ‘such a good little slut, just for me’ kind of vibe? None of us actually think women are sluts, especially not the ones willing to sleep with us. Honestly, we’re all just really thankful they are willing to even sleep with us.” Rooster tried to placate Phoenix.
“Even Hangman?” She wasn’t going to stop until he had been knocked down a peg or two.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but especially Bagman. He speaks like that to get a rise out of you, but honestly, he’s actually terrifyingly respectful. I'm pretty sure he even hates calling women anything degrading in bed. I think he’d prefer to be called something gross and degrading now that I think about it.” Rooster could only shrug at the alarmed look Phoenix had given him at the new i information he had casually dropped on her, “You know that bullshit that women with daddy issues like to be degraded? Well, I never met anyone with bigger daddy issues than Bagman over there, and that’s coming from me.” A knowing look following the statement.
Phoenix couldn't find a surface to place her beer fast enough before she was letting out a full belly laugh at what Rooster had just told her, her drink spilling all over her hand as she tried to picture Hangman of all people begging a woman to call him her pretty little slut. She hated that Rooster made sense, but yeah, it fit. Suddenly she felt like she understood Hangman just that much better.
Suddenly Coyote was rushing into the little section the dagger squad had carved out for themselves, “Shut up! She’s coming! Act natural!”
“We can shut up or we can act natural, you gotta choose here bud” Hangman was the first to address the confusion caused by their friend, “Bob, it’s your time to shine, here she comes”, a final clap on the back and Hangman was making his way over to Rooster and Phoenix to watch how well his own little protege did trying to pick up you up.
As Bob watched you walk over with their drinks all neatly lined up on a tray, he tried to calm himself down, replaying all the lessons Hangman had taught him in his mind, reminding himself he could actually do this.
This was all just to get your attention.
You just needed to know he existed.
Women like what they can't have.
Women liked being called a slut.
Yes, that was it. That's what Hangman had said.
Why was he so sweaty?
Women like what they can't have.
Women liked being called a slut.
“You look like a slut.”
A silence descended over the entire area. All eyes, wide, now focusing on Bob. Music was the only thing that could be heard between any of them. No one is willing to move out of fear alone.
Although to him, all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears, nerves fully taking over. But he did it and now he was just waiting for you to fall at his feet, at least, that's what Hangman told him would happen.
Although this, this felt wrong. He had messed up. He knew he had messed up somehow, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough for him to figure it out.
“Excuse me?” You were the first to speak up after Bob’s faux pas.
“Oh, I said, you look like a slut.” From there, the entire group watched events unfold in slow motion.
“No Bob! It’s -” Before Hangman could interject, you’d already thrown a drink over him. Bob covered head to toe in someone's beer, “rhetorical.”
“Get out Bobby Floyd!” Your look was icy, finger pointed towards the Hard Decks doors.
“Yes Ma’am.” Bob knew better than to argue with you. He immediately got up, head down, tail between his legs and made his way to the doors, praying he could get out of there as quickly as possible, making promises that he’d never step foot into the Hard Deck again, mentally figuring out how to crash his plane tomorrow.
Hangman could feel Phoenix seething next to him, against his better judgment he turned to look at her only to find her already staring holes into him, “You have 24 hours to fix it Hangman, before I shoot you out of the sky myself,” and with that she was gone, following Bob outside, but not before she was profusely apologizing to you, promising that this was not Bob.
_____
Bob isn’t sure how Phoenix had convinced him to come to the Hard Deck tonight, but here he was outside its doors, breathing deeply as he tried to convince himself to step inside.
And if he happened to see you, well, the written out three page apology was ready. He had no shame in groveling if it got you to forgive him.
One last deep breath and he made his way in, beelining for the pool table where he knew Phoenix was waiting for him. He couldn’t give a damn about anyone else there, actively making the choice to ignore every single one of them. He knew technically it wasn’t their fault, it was him, he was the one who had messed it up, but this felt right.
And if he had gotten an extra confidence boost from telling Bagman to fuck off the next day at work in front everyone, well, that was no one else’s business but his.
The air was awkward, everyone could feel it, everyone was being extra nice to him and despite him being polite, he was still avoiding actually entertaining conversation with anyone else except Phoenix, until “Hey Bob, you need a drink, go get one.” He glared at Hangman, the other pilot only shrugging his shoulders, nudging his head in the direction of the bar.
“Go, I know you don’t trust him, but trust me, go get your drink.” It was Phoenix, giving him a slight push off his stool. As he made his way to the bar, already getting his apology pages out of his pocket, he noticed the entire dagger squad quietly watching him make his way over. He felt bitter, but he knew that he had to do this. He was ready to beg.
“Bob,” it was Penny leaning over the bar, lemonade in hand, a smirk firmly plastered on her face as she handed it over to him, “I think you owe this bar a round of drinks considering last week's indiscretion.”
“Ma’am, a round of drinks for the bar is probably the least I could do considering what I did,” Bob ran a hand over his face as Penny cackled, making her way over to the bell, its humiliating ring sounding throughout the bar, all the patrons giving a loud cheer as the prospect of a free drink from a stranger who had somehow wronged the bar owner.
“Who fucked up this time Pen?” Your voice sounded out as you made your way back around the bar from the kitchen, clearly not having noticed Bob yet, but when you did, a smile a mile wide graced your face and Bob felt both humiliated and blessed all at once, “Ah, I assume this is penance for his sins of last week?” You and Penny shared a knowing look, and Bob wished he was in on the joke instead of the butt of it.
“And he will be paying for it.” Penny let out one more laugh as she slapped the top of her bar and gave a quick look around at how full her bar was this evening, knowing this was going to take a hefty chunk out of Bob's money, throwing Bob a wink as she left you two to talk.
“I’m sorry.” Bob wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He had felt awful all week and he needed to make amends and find out how he could fix this as soon as he could.
“Why on earth would you get Hangman to help you get a girl's number?” Bob froze, you knew. You knew he had needed someone else's help to try and flirt with you. He might not have crashed his plane last week, but tomorrow, it was definitely happening tomorrow.
“I will regret doing that until the day I die.” Bob groaned out as you watched him squirm in front of you, a laugh leaving you once again at his misery, “He is possibly the worst person I have ever met in my entire life.”
“Hey, he’s not that bad, considering the groveling he did this week and all.” You shrugged as you continued to wipe down the bar in front of you.
“What groveling?” Bob hadn’t heard anything about Hangman groveling, but when he threw a look towards his fellow aviators, the shy smile on all their faces, Hangmans in particular, showed that maybe they had been in his corner all along, even if he had messed up as badly as he did.
“Well, after you told me I looked like a slut,” Bob felt the humiliation flood him again, “Hangman profusely apologized and the lot of them had explained that you may have a crush on me and were just super nervous to ask for my number, so he had offered to coach you and that you may have gotten just a little nervous and duffed it a little bit.”
“That may have been exactly what happened.” Bob chanced a look at you, the soft smile you sported gave him hope that maybe you weren’t all that mad with him after Hangman had pulled his weight to remedy the situation, “And I think duffed it a little bit is the understatement of the century.”
“Oh Bobby Floyd, I was just trying to be polite, but you completely fucked it. Didn’t anyone tell you that you only call a girl a slut while you’re busy rawing her from behind?” If Bob didn’t already look like a loser in front of you, him choking on his spit and face going even redder than it already was at the thought of ‘rawing you’ did not do him any favors.
“Ma’am, I will never call a woman a slut, ever again, under any circumstances, I can promise you that.” Bob had made this promise the second he had said the word to you last week, but this just solidified it to him.
“Oh, well, that’s a bit of a pity, I was kind of hoping after our third date, you might be willing to while you bed me.” Bob was sure his heart stopped.
“Date?” It was all he could get out. If he didn’t want to make more of a fool of himself, this was all he was willing to get out.
“Yeah, the date Hangman offered to pay for, after that first one though, it’s on us.” You were enamored with the look of wonder on his face as you told him you’d be going on a date with him.
“You’re seriously willing to go on a date with me after everything?” In lieu of an answer, you instead just glanced down to the napkin Bob hadn’t even seen you place in front of him, your name and number scrawled on it, all nice and neat just for him, “I promise it will be the best and most expensive date you ever go on.” The look of absolute shock never leaving his fae=ce as he immediately pocketed your number, not willing to jinx anything more.
“Oh I bank on it being the most expensive date we ever go on, I mean, it’s the least we can do to thank Hangman for his lesson.” With that you swung your cloth over your shoulder, “I look forward to your call Bobby Floyd.” and with one last wink you were making your way to the other side of the bar to help Penny with the ever increasing amount of patrons swamping the bar for a free drink.
As Bob stood there with possibly the biggest smile on his face, he felt a nudge to his shoulder, seeing his Captain with a small smile of his own, “Mav”, he greeted with a nod of his head, receiving one in return, embarrassed that his superior had to hear all that.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop Bob, but did she just use the term ‘bed you’ when telling you she hoped you’d call her a slut while you sleep with her?” Mav didn’t really care what term she used, in truth, he was just sure Bob hadn’t even really registered she’d said it at all, and honestly, he was rooting for Bob, he wanted him to know that he hadn’t completely fumbled the bag when it came to you.
“Bed me?” Bob hadn’t even fully registered what Mav had said before he heard Rooster behind him.
“He means ‘fuck’ Bob”
And for the second time, Rooster had to watch Bob end up with a drink all over him at the Hard Deck, this time though it was infinitely funnier as he watched Bob spill his own lemonade all over himself in shock.
“Did she see that?” Bob’s eyes were closed, refusing to look at you.
“She definitely saw that” Rooster couldn’t lie, flashing a smile to you as he turned Bob away, “Go, run,” shoving Bob back in the direction of their friends, but Bob couldn’t even find himself to be embarrassed this time as he pulled your number out the closer he got, waving it like a flag as all his friends cheered him on, dripping, covered in lemonade and with your number clutched in his hand.
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I just missed you is all…
Robert “Bob” Floyd x f!reader
Just some domestic Bob fluff because he deserves it. Some angst
It’s been three days.
Granted he’s been away for longer periods it’s just this time feels like he’s been gone a lifetime.
Knowing there was a high possibility he or one of his colleagues turned friends may never return puts a lot of weight on anyone’s shoulders. He tried not to think of it before he left and he can’t think of it now. The fact that they almost lost Mav and Rooster is still too raw.
His Chevy Silverado pulls into the drive of the temporary on base housing you and he’d been staying in. It’s a nice house. Quaint. Smaller than you’re used to. Way smaller than what you had both been raised in. Barely any rooms to explore and definitely no land. Not like when you were children. Going out into the pastures and the fields. Getting lost in the tall corn stalks on purpose to steal kisses before hearing one of your mama’s shouting for supper and having to rush home blaming your huffing and puffing on the fact that you ran all the way back and not that you’d stolen the breath from each other.
As Bob gets out of his truck and grabs his bag he listens for any noises coming out of the house but all he can hear is a pot being moved from the stove and a voice yelling, “Dinner!” Guess Hangman must have been onto something the other day when he said Bob was a stealth pilot.
After shutting the truck door and trudging his way to the front door he goes to work quickly unlocking the door and stepping inside. He smiles when he hears the small gasp and the tiny yell of, “Daddy!” He knows he’ll never get tired of hearing that. He hears the little foot steps of his mini me coming towards him as fast as she can run and lets out a small, “Ooof” as her tiny body flings itself at his left leg. He smiles down at his daughter and takes another step inside the house pulling the front door closed behind him. He tosses his bag down next to the door. He’ll deal with it later. His daughter’s voice already going a mile a minute telling him everything that happened while he’s been gone. He chuckles to himself as he continues his venture, albeit a little harder with a tiny body clinging to him, towards the kitchen.
He sees you with a gorgeous smile on your face as you set the last bowl on the table for dinner.
“You know I carried her for 9 months just for her to come out looking exactly like you and all she’s talked about for the past three days has been when you were coming home. I’m not even sure she knows she has two parents.”
Bob grins and reaches down grabbing his daughter and lifting her up into his arms, “Now that can’t be right. Last I checked we thought mommy was the best!”
“Mommy IS the best mommy but you’re the best daddy,” Rory says very matter of factly.
You give him a pointed look and rest your hands under your growing stomach, “If this one comes out just the same I want a refund.”
Bob chuckles looking over at his wife with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m not sure it works like that but I’ll be sure to figure out a way to give you a refund if that’s what you want.”
You shake your head walking over to him putting your arms around both him and your daughter as best you can and kiss him quickly, “Smartass.”
Bob’s mouth drops open comically and uses one hand to cover Rory’s ear and pressing the other against his chest, “Well I never! I’m telling your mother about your swearing in front of her granddaughter. She is not going to be happy with you little missy!” He wiggles Rory in his arms making her giggle.
You laugh kissing him again, “Missed you.”
He smiles, “Not even close to how much I missed you.”
Rory starts to wiggle herself in his arms and Bob takes his hand off her ear and places her down onto her chair for dinner with a kiss to the top of her head, “And I missed you too, Ms. Rory Ann.”
Rory scrunches her face, “Daddy! I’m not in trouble! You don’t use my middle name!”
You roll your eyes. There’s no question where your daughter gets her sass. It’s where she got everything else from.
Later after bath and bedtime stories, that last way longer than normal, “Just one more daddy you were gone for so long!” Which turned into three more stories and laying in bed with her until she fell asleep he finally emerged from her room making sure her nightlight was on before turning off the lights. Yeah there was no question whether Bob was wrapped around her little finger or not. He would do anything for you or Rory. You and your children were his entire world. One he could have lost in an instant. He still couldn’t get that idea out of his head.
He heads into your shared bedroom seeing you sitting at the edge of the bed putting lotion on your stomach. He immediately goes to sit behind you before smacking your hands away from your stomach as he takes over rubbing in the lotion.
You chuckle glancing behind your shoulder, “I’m sorry was I not doing it right?”
Bob kisses your shoulder and then your cheek, “This is my job. You just rest. You had three days of running after a three year old and growing a baby.”
You sigh melting in his arms. Bob’s hold on you tightens after the lotion had been rubbed in and you can feel him taking deeper breaths.
He holds you while trying not to think about all he could have missed if he hadn’t come home. Leaving behind the wife he adored and a daughter that is his whole world and another child who he would never get to meet. You try to look back at him but he just holds you tighter and buries his face in your hair making it impossible to look at him.
“Baby what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Bob shakes his head, “No I just really missed you is all. I just… needed to get back to you and I just need this right now. Please.”
You nod in understanding and place your arms over top his holding on as tightly as you could. If this is what he needs then you’ll sit here forever.
#Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader#bob floyd x reader#Bob fluff#domestic Bob#Bob x reader#bob x female reader
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The Curveball Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: When Bob started coaching a tee ball team with Bradley, he was surprised to find how much he enjoyed it. But the last thing he expected was to fall in love with Molly, the beautiful and exciting aunt of one of the players on the team. Bob is hooked after one look at her, but he's afraid that he could never be enough.
Warnings: Fluff, eventually 18+
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)
Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!
The first time Bob saw Molly, he almost tripped over his own feet. She was laughing, the beautiful sound carrying across the field as she walked with her nephew, Everett. When she looked up and met Bob's eyes, her smile grew.
"Hi, Coach Bob!" Everett called out with a wave of his hand. He was a sweet kid, one of Bob's favorites from the Tiny Eagles tee ball team.
And then Bob's lips parted in awe as Molly raised her hand to wave as well. "Hey there, Coach Bob." And then she winked at him as her teasing voice filled his ears and made his heart thud.
The closer she got, the more stunning she looked, and her eyes remained on his. He was staring. He realized that much. But he supposed it didn't matter if he made a fool of himself, because there was no way she'd be looking at him for much longer anyway.
Molly looked a lot like her sister, and Bob started blushing profusely at that thought. Because Bradley definitely had a thing for Everett's mom. The "Team Mom". Bob liked Molly's sister plenty, but he never had a hard time looking away from her. He never once thought about how the shape of her body looked like it would fit nicely with his, snuggled up on the couch.
"Bob. Hey, Bob. Robert. Coach Bob!"
"What?!" Bob asked, suddenly broken free from the spell Molly managed to put him under from twenty feet away. Bradley was waving a hand in his direction and snapping his fingers.
"You okay? You're not listening to me."
"I'm fine," Bob mumbled, stealing another quick glance her way as she knelt in front of Everett and helped him change his shoes.
But Bob knew he was in trouble, because Bradley could tell exactly who he was looking at. And the smirk the other man gave him had Bob keeping his eyes to himself for the rest of tee ball practice.
-------------------------
The second time Bob saw Molly was much, much worse. She was wearing a little sundress. And this time he really did trip over his own feet. Bob watched as she bent to hug her nephew, and the way the fabric of the front of her dress met her body erased all normal thoughts from his mind. They were replaced with thoughts of Molly and her dress on Bob's bed. And on Bob's couch. And on Bob's bathroom floor. And in the bed of Bob's truck.
It was mortifying, feeling this attracted to a woman he'd seen twice and had never talked to. And likely never would talk to. But then she looked up at him as he adjusted his cap, and her smile was too much when it was aimed right at him like that. She probably had a boyfriend. She probably had ten boyfriends. Maybe a hundred. Ones that undoubtedly worshipped the ground she walked on.
Oh no. She was walking closer. Bob panicked. He blew his whistle to start practice, even though it was five minutes too early. The parents were looking at him, confused. Bradley turned to him and asked, "It's time? Already?"
"Yep," Bob said, walking briskly away from Molly and picking up one of the balls. "Let's get started."
But then it got even worse. After practice, Bradley offered to give Everett a piggyback ride up to Molly's car. And this time, when she looked at him, Bob just started walking toward her. Like he was in some sort of trance. And the closer he got to her, the more she smiled. Like she already knew he was thinking about her collection of boyfriends and wanting to become one of them.
"Hey, Coach Bob," she said, and he shivered.
"Hi," he managed a little awkwardly. "Are you Everett's aunt?"
"Molly," she replied without hesitation, holding out her hand. He took it in his bigger one, and then she was in his personal space. He had to let go before he started sweating.
"Nice to meet you," he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bradley pick Everett up, giving him and Molly plenty of space. But Bob was feeling like his only lifeline had been yanked away.
"So, how long have you been coaching tee ball?" Molly asked, and Bob fell into step next to her as she walked toward her car.
"Oh, this is my first season." That was an easy question. He wasn't so sure he'd be able to answer anything past a first grade comprehension level right now, and that was sad, because he had a master's degree in aeronautics.
"What got you into it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "You have kids of your own?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. Bob liked kids. He loved them. But he'd never been serious enough with anyone to even bring up the possibility of having his own. "My niece, Piper, is on the team, and she's autistic. She's more comfortable when she's around people who are familiar to her, so I'm kind of doing this for my sister."
Now she was looking at him like he had just saved a cat from a tree and helped an old lady cross the street at the same time. "That's so sweet," she gushed, and Bob stood a little taller. Sweet was in his wheelhouse. If Molly liked sweet, then maybe Bob stood a chance. "Everett talks about Piper all the time. I think my sister wants them to have a playdate."
Bob briefly wondered if he could sneak in and take Piper in place of his sister, just in the hope that maybe Molly would be there too.
"What do you do when you're not being Coach Bob?" she asked before he had to think of something intelligent to say. Bob could hear Bradley and Everett laughing somewhere behind him as he slowly walked with Molly.
"I'm a naval aviator," he said, always unsure about how to talk about work. "A weapons systems officer. I guess when I'm not Coach Bob, I'm Lieutenant Floyd."
Molly bit her lip and looked up at him, and now he could only think about her mouth. "So you have three names. Coach Bob, Uncle Bob, and Lieutenant Floyd. Which one do you prefer?"
His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow. The way she was looking at him like he was interesting and attractive made him blurt out what he was thinking. "I would answer to any of them if you were the one saying it." He would also like to answer to Molly's boyfriend, at least in his fantasies.
"Okay, Uncle Bob," she said with a bright laugh, and he laughed too. "This is my car." She unlocked a blue Honda, and Bob opened the driver's door for her.
When he noticed that Bradley and Everett were still messing around in the grass, Bob asked, "Do you like baseball?"
"I like men in baseball pants," Molly said matter-of-factly. And now Bob was definitely sweating, standing there in his white baseball pants while she looked up at him with the most innocent gaze.
He could tell he was blushing as he adjusted his glasses and looked at the ground. But Molly saved him from having to respond when she asked, "I take it you like baseball? Or do you only dig tee ball?"
"Oh, I love baseball. I play centerfield in a recreational league at work," he said, meeting her eyes again.
Molly's lips parted in slow motion, and Bob started to feel a little dizzy as she asked, "Does that mean you wear the pants all the time?"
He swallowed hard, unable to formulate a sensible sentence. "Uh..." He managed to pull it together as her eyes dipped down his body like she was impressed by what she saw. "All summer."
"God bless June, July and August," she muttered, and Bob just knew he was dreaming now. This wasn't real. "What are the main differences between tee ball and baseball?" she asked standing a little closer to him as Bradley finally made it up to the car with Everett.
"Well, the field is bigger," Bob said, fighting the urge to run his finger along her full lower lip. "And, my bat is bigger, too," he added, and a wide smile broke out on her face.
Bradley snorted, and then Bob realized what he had said. He started to panic. Molly's eyes dipped down to the front of Bob's snug, white pants, and he thought he was probably going to die.
But she grinned at him and said, "I'll bet it is, Bob."
Bradley finished buckling Everett in, closed the car door and casually said, "Bob's bat is actually the biggest size allowed, according to league regulations. Have a great night, Molly. See you later, Bob."
And then he was strolling toward his Bronco, leaving Bob with Molly. Bob was ready to have a panic attack, but she was just laughing like she was really enjoying this.
"I need to go into witness protection now," he said softly, shaking his head in mortification.
Molly laughed harder, and then Bob's whole body lit up as she placed her hand on his abs and patted him. "Oh, Lieutenant Floyd, you are adorable," she said, smiling up at him and letting her hand drop to her side. "I need to get Ev home, but thanks for walking us to the car. And thanks for the laugh and the baseball pants."
Her eyes glittered with amusement as she climbed into her car, and Bob mumbled some sort of goodbye as he gently closed the door for her. She and Everett both waved as they drove away, and Bob stared after the blue car until it was out of sight.
"Bob!" Bradley called from his open window. Bob sighed, really not wanting to go over there, but if he didn't, Bradley would just become unrelenting.
"What's up?" Bob asked, leaning against the side of the Bronco and trying to act natural. But he could tell he was blushing while Bradley smirked. "I noticed Molly when she came to practice last time, too. Are you going to make fun of me for having a crush on her?"
Bradley started laughing. "Not at all. She's really nice. And Everett said his Aunt Molly is single."
"Is she really?" Bob asked softly as a grin spread across his face. This information was absolutely shocking. He'd never have believed it. But he could trust Bradley and Everett on this one.
"Yep. The kid is a wealth of information."
"Wow," Bob mumbled, turning and heading toward his truck. Then it really dawned on him. Molly had flirted with him.
----------------------------
Bob's thoughts were consumed by Molly. Her sundress. Her laugh. Her blue car. Her hand on his body.
Once again, his crush on her was pretty ridiculous. One conversation. They'd had one conversation, and Bob was head over heels for her. Every game day and every evening at practice, he crossed his fingers that she would show up again. But it had been a bit since he had seen her, and he was feeling a little disheartened.
But Bob could see how Bradley lit up every time he was around Molly's sister, so he had a hard time begrudging his friend and co-coach that level of happiness.
After the game on Saturday, the team was still undefeated, and Bob was doing a little recap with Bradley.
"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."
Bob nodded, really proud of the two of them. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."
Bradley smiled at Everett and his mom. "I'm having fun."
Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"
"You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"
Bob sucked in an excited breath. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."
Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot."
"You're kidding me," Bob whispered. "You must be."
Bradley just shook his head. "Not kidding. Molly's a bit of a spitfire. You think you can handle that?"
Bob walked away without answering. Because he really, honestly wasn't sure.
-----------------------
"Any chance you'd want to get pizza after practice on Thursday night?" Bradley asked Bob in the locker room on Tuesday afternoon.
Bob shrugged. "Sure." He tried to watch what he ate, but a few slices of pizza would be okay.
"Great. Ev and Team Mom are going, too. So is Molly."
Bob dropped his deodorant onto the floor. "Molly's going?"
Bradley grunted as he got dressed. "Yeah. Don't tell me you're not into her anymore. I had to work some behind the scenes magic for this."
Bob almost laughed in his face. Not into her anymore? It would be impossible to lose interest in Molly. Bob had tried to stop thinking about her, because there was just no way he'd be able to keep her interest. Even if she liked the way he looked and somehow found him funny, she'd be done with him after about a week. Two at most.
"I...am still interested," Bob said, drawing in a shaky breath and picking up his deodorant.
"Great," Bradley said with a smile. "She can't wait to see you."
Those words echoed in Bob's head until Thursday. And by that point, he was so nervous, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to eat any pizza without getting sick. But then Molly was there. She came for tee ball practice, and she looked beautiful. Way out of his league.
Panic was setting in again as practice ended. Molly kept looking his way, and Bob could practically feel her gaze on him.
"Just relax," Bradley told him. "If she didn't want to see you, she wouldn't be here right now."
Bob took a steadying breath and acknowledged that Bradley was probably correct. His cheeks felt warm as he walked toward her, and he had to clear his throat twice, but he managed to get the words out. "Hi, Molly." Because once again, up close, she had him forgetting his own middle name.
"Hey, Coach Bob," Molly replied with a grin. "Wanna ride with me? I'll bring you back later to get your car." She was looking up at him expectantly. She asked him to ride to the restaurant with her.
He just nodded, and when she turned toward the parking lot, he followed her. "Nice pants," she said over her shoulder with a smirk. Bob had worn them on purpose. And now he was smiling.
"Thanks," he said, and when he opened the driver's side door for Molly, she looked up at him, stunned.
"Wow," she whispered. "You're really a gentleman."
And then she kissed his cheek before she sank down into the driver's seat. Bob closed the door and then floated around to the other side of the car. Soft lips. Soft, perfect lips. On his skin. On his cheek.
When he slipped in next to her, his long legs a little awkward in her small car, she was looking at his lips. Bob was either completely delusional, or Molly was attracted to him, too. She leaned in a little closer to him before pulling back and starting her car.
Loud music blared, making Bob jump as she reached for the volume knob. "Sorry," she muttered with an apologetic look. "I don't usually have any passengers."
Bob glanced at her backseat and saw a booster seat for Everett and several first aid kits. Then she wrapped her arm around the back of his seat while she backed out of the parking spot, leaning closer to him. Molly pulled out of the parking lot, and she was a truly terrible driver. If Bob hadn't been broken of motion sickness during flight training a decade ago, he'd probably be hanging out the window, begging for mercy.
When he glanced her way, she looked a little nervous. He wondered why as he tried to think of something to talk about.
"Why do you have so many first aid kits?"
Molly smiled as she said, "I'm an emergency room nurse. I'm very good at fixing up little injuries here and there. Comes in handy to have supplies with me."
Then it struck Bob that he knew next to nothing about Molly other than the fact that he was insanely attracted to her and that she loved her sister and nephew.
"Where do you work?" he asked.
"Regional," she replied. "I used to work at Midway, but um... I moved to Castle Park when my sister got divorced. Her ex fucking sucks, and I knew she was going to need a hand with Everett."
So she was smart, selfless, giving and caring. Bob was in trouble.
"Not that she would ever explicitly ask for help. Do you have any older siblings?"
"Two," he replied, mesmerized by the way she could talk so calmly while she drove so horribly.
"Then you get it. They're obnoxious. Headstrong. Control freaks. But I mean, she's also my favorite person in the world. Besides Everett. God, I love that kid. Oh no, I missed the turn," she muttered, looking to her left as she switched lanes again and cut someone off. "Oops. Anyway, yeah, so I live in Castle Park now, but I used to live near the beach. Closer to you Naval officer type guys. Oof, some of them are not as sweet as you, Uncle Bob. Met a few unmentionables near Coronado. Oh okay, there's the pizza place," she said, rambling on as she pulled into the restaurant parking lot and found somewhere to park. "So yeah. That's me in a nutshell," she told him as she put the car in park and turned the key. Molly turned to face him, and her smile was too much to handle up close. "I'm a twenty nine year old orphaned Sagittarius who can provide medical care on the go. I'm terrible at cooking, I like staying up way too late, I always google the endings of movies before I watch them, and up until recently, I've had terrible taste in men. Anything else you want to know, Coach Cute Glasses?"
Bob shook his head slightly. "You're amazing." He knew he was blushing, but he didn't really care anymore. Molly called him Coach Cute Glasses. No man in the world could listen to her talk, sit this close to her, have her call his glasses cute...and not blush. It was impossible.
Molly giggled. "It looks crowded. Let's go get a table."
Bob was instantly out of the car, and he made it to her side in time to close her door for her. She looked up at him with an expression Bob thought probably mirrored his own. "You need to stop being so sweet, Bob."
"I don't think I know how," he replied, and he could feel Molly lacing her fingers with his.
"Well, fuck around and find out. This is your last warning, Lieutenant Floyd," she told him, gently tugging on his arm and leading him toward the front doors. "Sweet guys get phone numbers and get kissed on the lips."
Bob's head was swimming. A kiss on the lips. He wanted to be sweet. He wanted to earn that kind of reward. He reached out and pulled the restaurant door open and held it for Molly.
"After you," he muttered, and he watched her shake her head.
"You're unbelievable," she whispered, wrapping one sure hand gently around the back of Bob's neck and guiding his lips closer to hers while she stood on her toes. "Unbelievably adorable."
Then her lips met Bob's as her body pressed against his. The kiss was too good. Perfect. He didn't touch her, but she touched him, letting her fingers slide into his hair while her other hand rested on his chest.
When Molly pulled her lips away, Bob chased them, practically begging for more. And with a smile and another soft brush of her lips against his, Bob was completely done for.
----------------------------
Bob was completely out of his depth. Molly had kissed him. Right outside of this hole in the wall pizza place which was packed with people. Now she was holding his hand again while she sweet talked the high school aged kid who was seating everyone into giving up the last table.
The kid was blushing the same color Bob probably was. "You have a party of five? That's a table for four," he muttered.
"We don't mind squeezing in," she said with a smile that would probably send that kid into heart palpitations.
But next thing Bob knew, he was pulling out a chair for her and sliding into the seat next to her. "That was pretty smooth," he said with a laugh as the kid left the menus and walked away still blushing.
"You liked that?" Molly asked, cocking her head to the side and looking at Bob. "I know a lot of moves, Coach Bob. All of them are smooth."
Bob's cock twitched at her words, and he had to grab a menu and pretend like he still knew how to read.
Flirting. Flirting. He was sure he'd never mastered this skill. He didn't even know how to fake it. But Molly wasn't looking at him with annoyance when it took him probably a full minute to respond. She was just smiling softly and glancing between him and the menu in front of her.
"You know," he said softly, "you're so pretty, you don't even need to be smooth. It's very overwhelming the way you put them together."
"Bob," she gasped softly, and he finally met her eyes. "Please, Bob. I can't with how fucking sweet you are."
Molly leaned in, so close to him, and Bob thought maybe he was going to be awarded another kiss. But her soft laughter filled his ears instead. "And the baseball pants? A girl can only handle so much."
She reached out and gently adjusted his glasses before letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder. And then Bob was thankfully saved from having to think of a response, because her sister showed up with Bradley and Everett.
"Over here!" Molly called, and she popped up out of her chair. When she sat down again, she let her hand trail down Bob's arm as she called for Everett to come sit on her lap. "Ev can take turns sitting on our laps, and I get him first!"
Bob could barely manage to make conversation with Molly sitting next to him, laughing with her nephew. He liked this too much, and he was still having a hard time thinking of something to say. Her leg was bumping his as Everett asked, "Hey, Coach Bob, do you like the Phillies, too?"
Molly turned to hear his answer, just as interested as Everett was. "I'm a Colorado Rockies fan," Bob replied, smiling at Everett.
"No offense, but I'm happy my mom likes Coach Bradley, because the Phillies are cooler than the Rockies."
Molly was silently holding in her laughter as Everett climbed off of her lap in favor of Bradley's. "Yeah, I'm happy about that, too," she whispered to Bob, eyes playful. "Wouldn't want to have to fight my own sister."
Bob sat in shock for a moment as the pizza was dropped off at the table. He let everyone else grab for slices, waiting to go last, but Molly dropped a piece onto his plate before grabbing one for herself.
"Thank you," Bob told her, once again distracted as she bit into her own slice. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and Bob decided it was more satisfying to watch Molly eat a slice of pizza than to eat one himself. She kept stealing glances at him while she ate, and Bob hastily bit into his dinner. At least he didn't have to talk right now.
But as the meal ended and the check was dropped off, Bob quickly pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He didn't mind paying for everyone as he rarely went out, but Bradley tossed his credit card across the table. "Split it," he told Bob while he returned to coloring with Everett.
"I can get it," Molly said, frantically digging around in her purse that looked like it was full of receipts, mints and pens.
"No," Bob said. "It's my pleasure." But Molly abandoned her purse and reached for his wallet instead.
"No, no, I can't let you pay," she groaned, leaning on his body while he kept his wallet out of her reach. "Bob!" she said, sounding scandalized. But Bob could feel her breasts pressing against his arm as she practically crawled onto his lap. She was bringing all of his feelings to the surface. She was just too exciting to be around.
He laughed as he said, "Why don't you want me to pay? I'm happy to do it."
She eased back into her own seat and crossed her arms. "I'm not used to guys being courteous. It's doing things to me, Uncle Bob."
It was only fair since she was doing things to him. She pouted playfully and glared at him out of the corner of his eye. Then the waitress took Bob's credit card as well as Bradley's and went to split the bill in half.
Bob pressed his lips together and turned to Molly, saying, "You know, you could at least say thank you." Then he draped his arm across the back of Molly's chair, just waiting to see what she would say.
Molly turned to face him again, her gaze lingering on his mouth. Bradley and Everett were suddenly heading for the door, and her sister was hustling along behind them.
Bob was basically alone with Molly now, and his cock twitched as she bit her lip and said, "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd."
When she immediately stood, Bob had the fleeting thought that he should probably remain seated for another minute, because Molly was really winding him up. But when she glanced back at him as she walked away, Bob was on his feet and holding the door for her and walking along next to her back to her car.
He wanted Molly to touch him again, but he really wasn't sure he knew how to touch her the way she would like. He was dying for another kiss, but if she expected him to do much more than that, he was going to be lost.
Molly leaned back against her car and looked up at him in the darkness of the parking lot. Bob was a few inches away, close enough to feel her warmth as the night cooled off.
Her voice was soft, somewhere between teasing and seductive. "Are you thinking about kissing me, Bob?"
He shivered, thinking about doing everything to her. "D-Do you want me to?"
"You didn't answer my question."
Bob figured he didn't have anything to lose by being honest right now. "Yes. I'm thinking about kissing you, Molly. How would you expect me to think about anything else?"
She moaned softly which had Bob stumbling toward her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her whole body was right there, and she wasn't being shy about touching him. So he let his hands rest gently on her waist, at just the right spot that was neither too high nor too low.
Her lips were soft on his, but when she tasted him with her tongue before nibbling his lower lip between hers, he squeezed her waist.
"Mmm." The soft hum at the back of her throat had him thinking the filthiest things, and Bob was scared she'd be able to feel him where she was snug up against him. When she nudged his glasses with her nose, she giggled against his lips. "I like your glasses."
Molly's body fit perfectly with his, and when Bob realized he had her pressed between his body and her car, he released her lips and took a step backwards. The rise and fall of her chest as she said, "I'll drive you back to your car," had him hypnotized. But Bob managed to open her door and gently close it after she was inside. He was able to make his way around to the passenger side and get in without too much effort.
"Let me see your phone," Molly said softly. Bob fumbled with it but managed to hand it to her. She entered her phone number and saved it, and Bob looked at her name there on his phone screen while she drove away from the restaurant.
He was never going to recover.
----------------------------
Omg!!! I love Bob and Molly so much! I hope you're all caught up with Batting Practice to best enjoy this fic as a dessert to round out your meal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone when bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!
PART 2
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#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#bob fluff#bob floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#robert floyd fic#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#the curveball#roosterforme#batting practice
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I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob
Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N
Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.
Master List
Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage.
For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier.
Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not.
Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.
“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call.
“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”
“Exhausted.”
“What time is it over there?”
“Pretty late.”
“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?”
“We’re all good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.
“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.”
“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.”
“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.”
“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”
“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit.
“Bobby.”
“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest.
“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”
“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”
“I will. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end.
“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”
“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”
“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”
“Bye, Bobby.”
Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked.
It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up.
~~~~~
Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier.
“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”
“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look.
“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back.
“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up.
“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now, come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”
~~~~~
“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?”
Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas.
“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”
You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen.
“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class.
“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out.
“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. ���Is that the cafeteria?”
“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile.
“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet.
Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on.
Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest.
“It’s Mr. Bob!”
“He came from the video!”
“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”
“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth.
“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”
“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”
“What are you . . .”
You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.
“Will you marry me, Honey?”
“Say ‘yes’!”
“You have to say ‘yes’!”
“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.
He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him.
As if that was even possible.
School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby.
“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you.
“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”
“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”
“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”
#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun#tgm#tgm fanfiction#bob x reader#bob fluff#bob floyd#bob#robert floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fic#robert bob floyd x you#bob x you#bob floyd x you
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AU — Christmas with Bob ♡
#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun x reader#bob floyd x reader#bob x reader#bob imagine#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob top gun#robert floyd#top gun maverick fluff#top gun moodboard#top gun imagine#top gun fluff#top gun fanfic#bob fluff
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Mrs. Floyd's class | Robert 'Bob' Floyd
Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Teacher!Wife!Reader
Summary: Bob helps his wife on Read Across America day.
Word count: 966 (it's short, sorry)
Warnings: nothing! just fluff.
Tag list: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all
(if you want to be in the 'All TGM' tag list, send me an ask!)
“Honey, it’s late already. You can finish this tomorrow” says Bob, trying to pry you away from your laptop.
“Let me just write one more email, maybe this time they will answer me”
“Alright, that’s it” he takes your laptop away from you.
“Robert! I need to get someone for the reading day. This author just bailed out on me" you say, feeling sad that you promised your students to bring someone to read a book for them. You had been talking to this local author for weeks now, and he just emailed you that he is not coming.
"It's too late. Nobody is going to answer today"
You let out a sigh of defeat, getting up from the sofa and opening your arms. "Hug me?"
Bob smiles softly and hugs you, his hand caressing your back. "Your kids will understand it, y/n. They love you and know you always do what you can for them. They'll understand it"
You hug him closer, and Bob kisses your hair. "I prepared a bath for you" he says, pulling away from you and kissing your forehead. "Go relax while I finish dinner, okay?"
You nod, walking away with heavy feet, your body fully envisioning defeatedness. He knows how important your 3rd graders are to you, and how you try to give them the opportunity to live different experiences in life if you can make them happen. He remembers last Valentine's day when you were adamant about making heart-shaped cookies for every student in your class. Bob knows how much you care, and he feels terrible to see you this way.
And then he realizes he has the solution right in front of him.
When he hears the soft click of the bathroom door closing, Bob pulls out his phone and immediately FaceTimes the whole Dagger Squad. He knows it's late, but he also knows that his aviator family wouldn't leave him behind.
"Bob, have you called us with your butt or something?" Asks Hangman, knowing very well that Bob wasn't usually the one initiating a FaceTime call.
"I honestly thought the same thing" agrees Coyote.
"Guys, can you let him speak? Maybe it's something important" Phoenix, always caring about her wizzo, makes the two men stop talking so Bob can tell them the reason for this call.
"Thanks, Nat. I know it's late. Like, really late. But I need your help"
"It's something wrong?" Rooster immediately asks, very concerned.
"Do you have anything to do on Read Across America day?"
"Isn't that in two days?" questions Fanboy, looking at his watch.
"Yeah, but Y/n had planned for a writer to read something for her students but…"
"Wait, is this for Bobette?" Bob nods at Hangman's question. "Alright, buddy. Tell us when and where"
He knew the Dagger squad would always have his back.
Two days later, you're explaining to your kids how you tried to bring someone to read for them, even though it had been impossible. The kids seem a bit upset about it, but they know you have tried your best. Mrs. Floyd always did her best.
You're looking for the book in your bag when a sudden knock on the door makes you turn.
"Excuse me, it's this Mrs. Floyd's class?" says Phoenix, smiling at you. She's wearing her uniform and has a Dr. Seuss book in her hands.
"Nat? What are you doing here?" you're completely shocked by her sudden appearance. "Come in, let me introduce you to my kids!"
And when she enters, Hangman, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy, and Rooster walk in behind her. You're about to cry. Your friends, the ones you consider a second family, have come to help you.
Bob, it's the last one to enter, a bright smile on his face. He is next to you in a heartbeat.
"Good morning, Mrs. Floyd"
"Did you call them?" You ask, wiping away a tear.
"Of course. Everyone was more than happy to help Bobette, you know" he chuckles a bit.
"I wish I could kiss you right now"
"Mrs. Floyd, care to introduce us?" says Rooster while waving to a few kids.
"Of course!"
You introduce all of them, and when it's Bob's turn, a few kids begin whispering and gossiping between them. One of the girls is the first one to speak.
"Mrs. Floyd, is Lieutenant Floyd your husband?"
These little kids love gossiping. More than their parents.
"Yes, he is. Now, I know you want to know about their jobs and how cool it is to fly aircrafts, but let's read Phoenix's book first, all right? Then I'm sure they will be very pleased to answer all the questions you may have"
It's funny seeing Payback and Fanboy reenacting a scene from the book as if they were the characters. You see the smiles on your students' faces and on your family's faces too. You can't say for sure who are the ones having more fun with this, aviators or students.
After the book, you decide to make small groups, 4 or 5 kids are sitting in a circle with one of the aviators, talking, asking, and learning something they won't learn in their books, hearing stories, and maybe, dreaming of their future.
"You know, I've always known you're a hell of a teacher but these kids look at you with devotion in their eyes. One of them even told me that he was to be like you when he grows up" confesses Bob, sitting next to you while watching the kids.
"Was it Josh?" you laugh. He wants to be a teacher and he tries to help other students when they don't understand something.
"Yep"
"Thank you, Bobby. Thank you so much. They will remember this in the future."
"Anything for you, darling"
#top gun#top gun maverick#tgm#top gun bob floyd#top gun bob#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob fluff#robert 'bob' floyd#top gun fanfiction#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#robert floyd x reader#bob top gun#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd x reader
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Surprise
Requested: Yes
Summary: The Dagger Squad learns about Bob’s engagement in an unusual way. For him, at least.
Word count: 0.7k
Note: Join the celebration!
Warnings: none
Pairings: Robert ‘Bob’Floyd x fem!reader
“As I live and breathe,” Jake murmured, staring at his phone in awe. The pilot was sitting in his living room, surrounded by Phoenix, Rooster, and Coyote. Javy raised his head at his friend's words, moving closer so he could see his screen. His jaw dropped when he saw the pictures. Phoenix and Bradley shared a look before moving behind Jake as well. In a matter of seconds, their expressions matched that of the two pilots in front of them. On the screen in front of them, all pilots could clearly see the new post that Bob had made. It was the first post that they had seen containing you, which would have been less of a shock had you not had a large ring on your finger. “Looks like Baby On Board got himself a fiancé.”
The four of them continued to stare at the screen for the next few minutes. “So do we ask him or not?” It was Bradley who asked the question. No one responded for a few minutes. Then, Phoenix nodded her head. She had only met you a few times and had no idea that her WSO was planning on proposing to you. After a brief discussion, they decided that they would question Bob tonight at the Hard Deck.
A few hours later the small group was sitting around the pool table. Jake tapped his foot against the ground impatiently. It seemed as if these days Bob was always showing up late, no longer scaring the hell out of them when he would randomly appear next to the group. Maybe that had something to do with his recent engagement. Phoenix was staring at the door intently. She was prepared to give Bob an earful about not telling her about his new relationship status. While she respected his privacy, she wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to show her WSO exactly what she thought of his secrecy.
Just as the group was starting to lose hope that Bob would even show up, the bell above the door chimed loudly. Four pairs of eyes snapped up to watch Bob walk through the door with you on his arm. They stared at you two as you walked toward them. Phoenix was trying to get a look at your left hand, wondering why she hadn’t seen you wear your ring before. That proved harder than she thought as you had your fingers tangled with your finacé’s, hiding any view of your new ring.
When the two of you finally reached the group Bob sat down on a bar stool before pulling you into his lap. You giggled quietly in response. At the feeling of four pairs of eyes on you you turned your eyes to face your fiancé’s friends. They all quickly averted their eyes, causing Bob to cock an eyebrow. Jake was the first person to look back. “So,” He started carefully, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. “We saw your post.” He left it at that, waiting for Bob to explain.
Neither of you said anything, causing Bradley to speak up. “Congratulations.” He murmured. You turned to face Bob, nuzzling your face into his neck as you tried to contain your giggles. You knew that your now fiancé wasn’t the oversharing type, which is why when you saw the post he made about your engagement, you couldn't wait to see the reactions of his friends. This is exactly what you thought would happen.
Bob did his best to hide his own grin, failing miserably when he felt you giggle against his skin. He could only shrug his shoulders in response to Jake’s statement. He knew that all of them were wondering why he did it. And the honest truth was only because he felt like it. So that was exactly what he said. “I don’t know, I just felt like it,” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Why? You got a problem with it, Bagman?” Suddenly all the attention was on Jake, the question causing him to turn as red as a tomato. The once cocky pilot only shook his head quickly, causing loud laughs from your group to float through the bar.
#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#top gun x reader#top gun fluff#top gun maverick#bob floyd#bob fluff#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd fic#bob x reader#bob floyd x reader#top gun bob#robert bob floyd#bob fanfic#robert bob floyd x reader#robert floyd#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#top gun phoenix#top gun fic#top gun fan fic#top gun fandom#top gun x y/n#top gun x you#Lewis pullman#maverick top gun
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Alice Down the Rabbit Hole
summary - You should have known to question when Bob suddenly appeared in your bakery and made his place in your life—but, in your defense, his smile was so charming! Five dates in and he's already swept you off your feet completely with his thoughtful nature and kind heart. But the question still remains: what do you actually know about him? And why does he always come back to you covered in bruises?
warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, boxing inaccuracies probably, smut - (p in v, protected sex, brief finger sucking, fingering, spitting, like two spanks, implied aftercare), no use of y/n, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you would like
this series is 18+, minors please do not interact
word count - 4.0k
sweeter than sugar masterlist
“Not quite, you gotta— Move your foot forward a bit—”
You let out a huff, dropping your stance as you turn to face Bob. “Can you please just show me?”
The tips of Bob’s ears turn pink at the request, but he nods and takes a step towards you, lining up behind you as you turn back to the punching bag. He moves his hands to your hips, angling them with a gentle knee pushing against the back of your own.
“Like this.” His breath is warm against your ear and his hands slide up your forearms, positioning them correctly. “Good.”
You’re thankful that Bob is holding you up because you’re pretty sure his raspy voice in your ear would have you melting into the floor if he wasn’t.
Even though you and Bob had been on three dates already—with your fourth in just a couple days—you are still too prideful to admit that your boxing inquiry was just an attempt to see him more and so he is still under the impression that you actually want to learn. Your arms are suffering because of it, but your heart doesn’t care. And Eloise can laugh at you all she wants, she’s not the one who has Bob breathing against the shell of her ear as he moves his hands all over her body.
“Always make sure your hands are blocking your face. If you’re not punching, you want them up as a defense,” Bob instructs, moving your arms to match his words.
You nod, swallowing as Bob’s fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding you through a slow punch. Once your glove has made contact with the bag he brings it back parallel with your ear. He repeats the cycle a few more times, alternating hands, before you feel his gaze on your temple.
“That make sense?”
You smile. “Yeah.”
Bob mirrors your smile and, unfortunately, he drops your arms and steps away from you. “Good. Why don’t we call it for today? Don’t want you so sore you can’t eat your popcorn,” he teases gently.
Just because you refuse to admit the real reason behind your sudden interest in boxing, doesn’t mean you haven’t been complaining about it.
“Why do you think you’re coming, muscle man?” You grin.
“Oh, I see,” Bob chuckles as he helps you out of your gloves. “You only takin’ me on dates so you have someone to feed you popcorn?”
At the second reminder of your upcoming movie date, you can’t help but stretch onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to Bob’s cheek. “And don’t you forget it.”
Again, Bob is pink in the face, but his mouth is a content, small smile anyway. You aren’t sure if Bob is your boyfriend—you think he’s pretty close to it, but you’ve only been on three dates. He kissed you on your second date, right when he walked you to your door. And he does thoughtful things like texting you random updates throughout the day—you always get good morning and goodnight texts—and dropping by the bakery with coffee whenever he can. Bob isn’t your boyfriend. But you wouldn’t hate it if he was.
“Alright, you’re gonna be late if I keep you any longer.” Bob glances at the clock behind you. “Let me grab your stuff and I’ll walk you to your car.”
His hand intertwines with yours—that’s another thing he’s started doing - holding your hand—and he slings your gym bag over his shoulder. You swing your interlocked hands as he leads you out of Mav’s, politely waving goodbye to the woman at the front desk.
Squeezing Bob’s hand lightly, you get his attention. “If you come by Sugar Plum’s later, I’ll save you a blondie.”
“You bribin’ me?” Bob looks down at you with a smile.
You bat your lashes at him innocently. “Only if it’s working.”
“You’re seeing me Friday, sweet pea, you sure you won’t get sick of me?” Bob jokes as you reach your car.
“Not possible.” You shake your head resolutely.
He looks at you for a moment, perhaps searching your face for something, and then he’s dropping down to give you a quick peck. “Yeah, I’ll come by.” He promises.
You give him another kiss before he’s putting your stuff in the backseat and you’re getting in the driver’s side. You pull out with a wave goodbye and Bob waits for you to exit the parking lot completely before he heads back inside Mav’s.
There’s still a gnawing of guilt in his stomach every time you leave, but it’s lessened significantly. Since he started seeing you, Bob has cut down on his fights—something he knows Maverick isn’t happy about—and it’s made him feel a bit better about everything. He hasn’t fought since your first date and you’ve lit a small hope in him that maybe one day his lies to you will finally turn into truths.
He just needs more time to figure it out.
“So, who’s the girl?” There’s a teasing lilt in Adler’s voice and Bob stiffens.
“What?”
Adler just chuckles. “Is that how you wanna play this? That’s cute.”
“I’m not playing anything,” Bob argues, probably a little harsher than he intended, and it gives away that he is, in fact, playing something.
“Alright, tough guy, I’ll drop it. Simmer down,” Adler holds his hands up in surrender with a chuckle. “Just think it’s nice to see you so sweet on someone.”
“I—” Bob can tell Adler is enjoying this far too much so he clears his throat. “Did you need something?” He changes the subject.
At that, Adler falters slightly, a small sigh leaving his lips. “Mav’s got a fight for you. It’s a big one too, I don’t think you’re getting out of it.”
Bob swallows. “When?”
“Friday.”
“But… I have a date…” Bob feels like a child again, always coming to the bitter realization that things don’t work out for guys like Bob Floyd.
Adler purses his lips, closing his eyes for a second before opening them. “Look, I’ll get Mav to push the fight back until after midnight— Lord knows they hardly fight during daylight hours anyway and I know Hangman’s been itching to fight since he got back so we can probably get him in the undercard. But then you have to be there, Cinderella. Got it?”
Bob nods hastily.
“Alright,” Adler pulls a white card from his pocket. “Here’s the address. You’re there or I’ll kick your ass personally, Reaper.”
“Ya know, I distinctly remember you sayin’ you weren’t gonna ask her out and now you’re on date number, what is it?” Mickey pretends to run through his fingers. “Four.” He grins, taking a happy bite of his doughnut.
“I don’t know,” Bob looks down bashfully. “She just— I don’t know. She’s way too good for me—”
“Then let her be. She clearly likes you too, Bo. Don’t you think she should be the one to decide what kind of guy she deserves?” Mickey gives him a stern, knowing look, though it loses some of its effect with the powdered sugar covering his mouth.
Bob takes a breath. In a little under half an hour, he’ll be picking you up and taking you to a movie. Somehow, without him even realizing it, you wormed your way into Bob’s life as a constant and Bob doesn’t mind in the slightest. Clearly he doesn’t, because even though everything in him tells him he doesn’t deserve you, he keeps seeing you. The white address card Adler gave him feels heavy in his pocket.
“But,” Mickey grabs Bob’s attention and gives him sympathetic eyes. “You do have to tell her the truth at some point.”
Bob nods slowly. “I know. I— I know. I will. Not tonight, but— If it goes any further, I will.”
“If it— Holy shit, you’re gonna ask her to be your girlfriend! Are you gonna do it like you did with Samantha in 9th grade, when you got so nervous, you tripped over your shoelace and—”
“You know, this isn’t making me want to introduce you to her,” Bob interrupts his best friend with a halfhearted glare.
“Please, the second you slip up and tell me her name, I’ll be marching my ass to Sugar Plum so fast,” Mickey scoffs. “But you’re still going out with her tonight right? Adler pushed your fight back?”
“Yeah, he did.” Bob confirms
“Do you know who you’re fighting?”
Bob shrugs lightly. “Razor, I think. He’s good, but he’s always been predictable. I should be fine, I’ve beaten him before.”
“I guess they don’t call you the Grim Reaper for nothing,” Mickey tries to joke.
Bob frowns slightly. Though he knows some of the other guys envy it, Bob doesn’t have the same appreciation for the nickname. It’s almost mocking in a way. A reminder that the very thing that makes him a bad person is what he’s good at, that he’s synonymous with all the pain he claims to hate. The first time he heard the word “Reaper” slip past your lips, it made him sick.
“Yeah.” Bob just agrees simply.
In that moment, he thinks of you. Your kind eyes and cute nose, the way you’re so sure you’ll never get sick of him. And maybe that’s why Bob likes you so much, you’re one of the few people in his life that makes him feel like Bob. Not Reaper or weak, naive Bo. You make him forget about all of that. And maybe he’s selfish, because he knows that, as soon as he tells you who he really is, that will change, but he likes being just Bob. He likes being your Bob.
“I should go.” Everything else fades away at the thought of seeing you and he bids Mickey goodbye. “I’ll see you later tonight.” He pauses at the front door. “And stop eating all my food.”
“I didn’t— I have no idea what we just watched.”
You laugh as you and Bob walk out of the theater. The temperature has dropped with the sun and your outfit isn’t the warmest, so you move a bit closer to him. He lets you, throwing his arm over your shoulder to shield you from the wind.
“Me neither,” you giggle.
Bob’s car comes into view and he opens the door for you, hurrying to turn the heat on. His car kick starts to life, the digital numbers of 10:05 blink back from his dashboard. You watch Bob’s profile as he pulls out of the movie theater parking lot, your bottom lip tucking into your teeth.
Though you had a fun time with Bob, you somewhat regret suggesting a movie. Because, aside from sharing popcorn and maneuvering over the large movie theater armrests to have a cliche movie date cuddle, you didn’t get a chance to do anything with him. And you really like doing things with Bob.
The two of you joke about the absurd movie you just watched as he drives you home and you do your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You don’t want this date to end. And, by date four, you’re sure of it - you really, really don’t want Bob to leave you alone tonight.
All too soon, Bob is pulling up in front of your house and putting his car in park. He moves to say goodbye, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and your resoluteness weakens. Trying to hide your dejection, you get out of his car and start to head to your front door. Then you stop. Bob can’t even fully open his car door before you’re turning around.
“I’m ready to use my last question.”
Bob freezes.
You look somewhat nervous, but you’re putting on a brave face, fiddling with your skirt as you hold his gaze. Your feet stay planted on the sidewalk outside your small home, your porch light causing a glow to emanate from behind you. Bob swallows thickly.
“What’s your question?”
You take a breath, and then strengthen your resolve, meeting his eye with a small smile. “Do you want to come inside?”
Bob turns off his ignition.
With every step he takes to follow you to your front door, Bob is at war with himself. He wants to be a gentleman—a good person—and he really doesn’t want to mess this up with you. He doesn’t deserve you, he knows that, but you’re intoxicating. A sugar high he never wants to end. Bob’s always had a sweet tooth and you’re sweeter than anything he’s ever known. He doesn’t want to mess up, but his need for you is only growing as the distance to your house shrinks.
He steps inside cautiously as you turn a light on. “This is a nice place—”
Bob has hardly closed your front door behind him before you’re pulling him down by his shoulders and smashing your lips onto his. It takes a second for his senses to catch up to him, but once they do, his hands find purchase on your hips, your legs hitting the arm of your couch as he responds to your kiss more feverishly.
You pull away with a smirk, watching as Bob swallows thickly with his eyes trained on your lips. “I didn’t really invite you in to talk, Bob.”
Bob feels his grip tighten on your hips. Just from one kiss and that look in your eye, he’s straining in his jeans and it certainly doesn’t help that he can feel the outline of your panties through the fabric of your skirt. In the mere moments he’s been inside your place, Bob really hasn’t been able to stop himself from imagining you bent over every piece of furniture in the room.
“Sweet pea…” He almost doesn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, restraint heavy in his tone. He doesn’t want to hurt you or take anything too far. He wants it to feel good for you. His eyes snap up to you when you grab his hand suddenly and trail it up to your chest. Unable to stop himself, Bob squeezes your breast lightly. “Are you sure?”
You nod, catching your lip between your teeth. “Please,” you whimper. “Want you to be rough with me.”
It’s like your words unlock something new inside Bob as a gasp leaves your lips as he gives your tit another, harder, squeeze.
“Oh, is that what you like?” Bob’s voice is rough—low—like a switch has been flipped and his eyes are almost black, a deep, oceanic blue that makes you feel like you’ve just changed the tide when you look into them. “Ask me for it then. Like a good girl.”
This Bob is a Bob you haven’t met yet. You recognize him, he’s still the man who shyly teaches you boxing and waits with you at the bakery, that hasn’t changed. But a domineering aura has overtaken him as he looks down at you. His thumb traces your bottom lip and, wordlessly, he slides it into your mouth. You blink up at him, hollowing your cheeks around the digit as he presses down on your tongue lightly.
When all you let out is a quiet moan, he clucks his tongue. “You don’t wanna talk, sweet pea? That's fine. I’m sure you make lots of other pretty noises.”
You squirm, the sound of his voice, his gentle hands, and his dizzying scent all making arousal pool in your panties, and you clench your thighs for some relief. Bob pulls his thumb from your mouth, coating your bottom lip with saliva.
“You gonna show me to the bedroom, sweet girl? Or am I fucking you here on the floor?” You never thought someone’s smile could make you feel like you’re about to climax, but when he grins at you wolfishly, you have to suppress a whimper. “Oh that’s right, you want it rough.”
Bob’s head dips to your ear and he traces the shell of it with his tongue. “I’m gonna bend you over this couch and fuck you until you cry.”
You want to tell him that you’d let him, but all that comes out is a shaky moan.
“You really gotta start using your words, sweet pea.” Bob shakes his head condescendingly and in one quick motion he has your stomach bent over the arm of your couch, the fabric of your skirt lifting with the bend. His hands flip the hem of it over your back, giving him a clear view of your ass and he kneads each cheek between his fingers.
One of his hands wraps around the back of your panties, pulling them tight against your folds. They drag against your clit and you gasp. You can’t see anything he’s doing, so the sound of tearing fabric catches you off guard, but Bob’s wetting his fingers with your slick before you can say anything, a low grumble coming from his chest.
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy.”
Your toes are only just touching the hardwood—most of your body slung over the couch—and they curl at his words. His index finger slides into you and he lazily drags it back and forth between your walls. His fingers are rough and calloused, textured from the amount of times he’s broken skin and it’s healed.
You try to roll your hips against your couch for added stimulation, but Bob catches you almost immediately, swatting your ass with a growl. “Bad girl. You want something, you ask for it. And you use your fuckin’ manners.”
Though his words are gruff, his finger still stays at its tantalizingly slow pace. You whine into the couch cushions.
“More,” you beg. “Please, more.”
Another finger joins his index one and they’re so thick and they fill you up so good. Your thighs tremble.
It’s almost alarming how well Bob knows your body, how he finds a spot inside you and harps on it until you're wailing. As your orgasm approaches, your legs try to find purchase on the ground, kicking and squirming. The crack of Bob’s hand has you choking on a moan.
“Last warning, sweet pea.” His voice is low and it sends shock waves to your core. “Misbehave again and I’ll leave you here and get myself off with your panties, got it?”
Though the thought has you clenching around his fingers, you do your best to stay still, whining when he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the back of your thigh.
Bob’s weight falls against your back suddenly, his mouth mere centimeters from your ear as he rubs soothing motions up and down your sides. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” His voice is warm and tender, reverting back to the way it always is with you. “Was that okay, sweet pea? Is this okay? We don’t have to—”
“Bob.” Given the circumstances, your voice isn’t that threatening but you’re able to muster up more than a breathless whimper. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Bob’s hands still against your hips, his weight lifting off of you. Your head is still buried in your couch cushion—even if you turn to one cheek, your vision is limited—so you hear Bob unzip his jeans more than you see him. And you hear him spit a wad of saliva onto your cunt. He rubs it into your folds lewdly with one hand, a groan escaping his lips as his spit glistens on your skin.
You cry out as he pushes into you, slowly dragging his cock along your walls. In your lustful haze, you must have missed him putting a condom on, but you feel the smooth latex as he inches into you. His hips press against your ass and he groans as he bottoms out.
“Fuck, you feel so good, sweet pea.” His hands explore the expanse of your back as he starts moving at a harder pace.
Though he’s fucking you—truly and thoroughly—against the arm of your couch, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s rough, but he’s still gentle. Every movement is meant to bring you closer to release. Bob fucks you like his only purpose is your pleasure.
“That’s a good girl,” he grunts when you clench around him and if this is what good girls get, you don’t want to be anything but. “Droolin’ all over yourself. But you just can’t help it, can you? Messy girl.”
There’s a wet spot darkening the couch from your opened mouth, drool covering your chin and cheeks, but you don’t even care. He’s too much and not enough all at the same time and tears prick your eyes as he pounds into you in repeated, well-timed thrusts.
“That’s right, cry those pretty tears, sweet pea. Who’s makin’ you feel this good?”
“You, Bob! Oh fuck!— You!” You’re crying into the couch now—fulfilling the final part of Bob’s promise—unable to do anything but moan his name and expletives.
You climax with a strangled cry, chest heaving as Bob follows soon after. He runs soothing hands up and down your back to ground you, slowly pulling out as he whispers praises. You can hear his heavy feet against your floors as he moves to discard his condom and then slide on his boxers. You think for the briefest of moments that he might just leave, but then his hand is on your back again and he’s gently lifting you off the couch.
His brows are cinched together with worry when you blink your eyes open. “Are you okay? Was that too much? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you breathe.
Bob chuckles lightly, relaxing. “Yeah, okay, sweet pea. Where’s your bedroom, sweet girl?”
You’re not sure how long you’d been sleeping—it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours—before somewhat frantic rustling wakes you from your slumber. You groan, lifting your tired head from your pillow. Your movements alert Bob you're awake, the man currently pulling his jeans back on, and he rushes over to you apologetically.
“I’m so sorry, sweet pea, this wasn’t how I wanted this to go at all. I swear I was gonna wake you up before I left.” He cups your cheeks with his hands as you blink at him blearily. “Something came up at work. I have to go.”
You rub at your eyes with a yawn, your voice small and tired. “You do?”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize—” He cuts himself off, eyes darting anywhere but your own before he finally looks back at you. “But I need you to know that I want to stay more than anything, I— I am so sorry, sweet pea.”
You hum sleepily as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs and Bob suddenly pulls you in for a hard kiss. “I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers against your lips. “Tomorrow, I promise.”
You only nod, still confused as Bob throws his shirt over his head and gives you one last kiss before dashing out the door. If it were anyone else, you’d be hurt. A small part of you is. But it’s Bob. And he seemed so genuinely remorseful. And you’re still exhausted and half asleep, so this all feels somewhat like a dream. Maybe you can give the man who gave you the best orgasm of your life a bit of a pass.
Something white and rectangular catches your eye before you can go back to bed, laying on the floor close to where Bob had been kneeling minutes prior. You lean over your mattress to pick it up, looking at it in confusion. You have to read over the words a couple times and your brows furrow.
Spiderhead Boxing
783 Ragnarok Road
join my Bob Floyd taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold
Bob taglist: @cottagecori @bobgasm @kmc1989 @berryjuicyy
#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd imagines#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd angst#bob floyd smut#bob floyd au#bob imagine#bob imagines#bob x reader#bob fluff#bob angst#bob smut#bob au#top gun maverick imagines#x reader#sweeter than sugar#under the hard deck#buggy's got a pen
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